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#going back to what i was talking about in the post. if my first impression with Dra had been with the full translated game
yamujiburo · 14 hours
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Do you think you could info dump all that you know about Madame Boss and Mayomoto with drawings? I would love to know more about their dynamic and about young Giovanni with baby Jessie. Maybe Delia could ask Jessie about it in a comic? Would it be sad or nostalgic? Maybe both? Like a flashback or something would be cool! Anyway, love your art and everything that you do!! ❤️
I'm not sure I can get it out in just drawings (just because it's a lot) but I have quite a few I've already done if you wanna look through my tags~ I'll also explain a bit here with some of my old comics. Long post under the cut~
Canonically, Madame Boss is the founder of Team Rocket and Giovnanni's mother. Miyamoto was one of her elite agents and Jessie's mother. They're REALLY close as evidenced by how they talk to one another (ex. Madame Boss calling Miyamoto "Miyamoto chan", Miyamoto's informal way of speaking to Madame Boss despite her being her superior, their friendly banter, etc.). Madame Boss sends Miyamoto and two other Team Rocket members on a mission to find Mew, but she and the other members never return. Miyamoto's implied to still be alive, endlessly chasing Mew with Jessie as her north star and reason to keep going. Madame Boss passes away sometime between the radio drama and before the events of the first Pokémon Movie. You can listen to the whole drama here! Madame Boss and Miyamoto are primarily in the first part, but Miyamoto pops up at the end of each of the other parts at different periods of time.
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This is more where my headcanons begin! Miyamoto, whose dub name I hc being (Calamity) Jane, joined Team Rocket mostly because of her not great circumstances. She works her way up the ladder quickly and impresses Madame Boss. They become close but at the time, Miyamoto was dating a charismatic performer/con man that MB, not so subtly, doesn't approve of. She was right to not approve as this man got Miyamoto pregnant but left her before he'd known.
Madame Boss, despite her penny pinching behavior (Team Rocket wasn't that big yet), does what she can to help out Miyamoto. They had to tread carefully though, they didn't want anyone thinking there was any sort of favoritism happening.
Jessie is born, and for a little while Miyamoto keeps her and raises her the best she can. On more short term missions she'd leave her with Madame Boss, who's not super fond of children, and would have her own son Giovanni watch her (or have another grunt in Team Rocket watch her). This wasn't sustainable, so Miyamoto quickly puts Jessie in foster care (the foster care part is canon). Miyamoto would still visit her daughter whenever she could.
Ultimately, Miyamoto was a very driven, one track minded woman. She would constantly go on missions and after discovering Mew, became obsessed. It was around this time Madame Boss was starting to catch feelings for Miyamoto. Miyamoto would play along but was not nearly as invested in their relationship is Madame Boss was. Not in a malicious or leading on sort of way, she just had a job she wanted to get done
When it was time for Miyamoto to go on the mission to actually find Mew, Madame Boss, while excited at the prospect of getting her hands on a legendary Pokémon and the money that came with that, began to worry in the days leading up to the mission and tried to get Miyamoto to stay. She offered to send a different team out. To her they were disposable, but Miyamoto wasn't. Miyamoto didn't take the offer, wanting the glory and money of finding Mew for herself (but also had a daughter she wanted to get back to and be able to provide for). She leaves and goes MIA
Madame Boss is brokenhearted and after several years of Miyamoto going missing, is not able to run Team Rocket, troubled by the immense amount of guilt and heartache, and Giovanni takes over. She remains in the organization, more so operating in the background. It was rare for agents to see her out and about. But years later she sees Jessie's joined Team Rocket as a trainee. She requests Viper and Giovanni keep an eye out for her. Viper doesn't know why but does as he's told. Giovanni understands, remembering Jessie as the little toddler he'd have to take care of many years ago as well as her mother Miyamoto, who he knew was very close to his mother.
Not too long after, Madame Boss passes away but Giovanni keeps his promise and continues to keep Jessie employed.
I don't think Jessie remembers much of her mom or anything from around this time. I don't think she even remembers her mom being in Team Rocket or Giovanni babysitting her. She just remembers her mother leaving and never coming back and holds some resentment, not knowing the context of why Miyamoto disappeared.
I've thought about doing a story where Miyamoto returns in my hanamusa au but I still gotta think it out more. It starts with Miyamoto stopping by Delia's restaurant and she and Delia talk, not knowing the little connection they have via Jessie.
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assortedgoods123 · 2 days
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Severus Snape x chatty!reader Soulmate AU
Writers block with stardew valley stuff so im trying something totally different to shake the cobwebs loose
do ppl still need to say they dont fuck with jkr or is it a given at this point? (genuine question)
*meet-cute!!!*
*this reader has titties and gender neutral pronouns*
Walking quickly, your eyes are glued to your phone as you round the corner of a street in London. You are already running late for a meeting but you absolutely refuse to deal with your coworker's bullshit without something caffeinated in your hands.
Just as you are about to look up and find the entrance to the cafe you frequent, you slam into something. You squeak out a nervous gasp when you realize it wasn't a lamp post, but a person.
"Ohmygosh I am so so so sorry!" You say, frantically digging in your bag for your horde of cocktail napkins. Your eyes flit nervously over the stranger, realizing you're both covered in his drink order. Dabbing at his torso with your little napkins, his silence makes you about a thousand times more anxious.
"I really am so so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it's totally my fault." You stammer out, glancing at up at his face while you pat pat pat his chest with your napkins.
Your poor little heart, already beating like a hummingbird in your chest, leaps into your throat at the sight of the hottest fucking guy you've ever seen in your life. The kind of hottie you would chase down the street to throw yourself at. You've done very embarrassing things to get a chance to know people who are far less good-looking than this man in front of you now. And because you were too preoccupied with your phone, you're almost certain you won't be walking away with his number.
And he's frozen, staring at you with a weird look on his face. Definitely the worst first impression you could have possibly made.
Never one for fits of grace, you frown and say, "People as attractive as you should come with an escape lever." You throw the soggy napkins in the trash nearby and add, "I hate embarrassing myself in front of hot people."
Still not getting a response, you turn and look up at him. "You gonna say anything handsome?"
-
Severus Snape has never been rendered this speechless in his entire life.
The day the courts ruled him not guilty enough for Azkaban was certainly shocking, but even that paled in comparison to what he was experiencing now.
He was leaving his favorite coffee shop when he bumped into a muggle. People are clumsy, it happens. But then, instead of apologizing and running away from the tall scary man, they started talking to him. The sweetest, softest voice Severus had ever heard, telling him he's... hot. Attractive. Handsome.
Every single time anyone has ever shown interest in him in public, Severus has immediately and viciously shut them down. Far better to come across as an asshole upfront than to be humiliated and heartbroken later.
But now, he had this sweet little muggle running their warm hands all over his chest in a matter of seconds. Before he could snarl at them to back off, he looked down and, well.
What was already a very low-cut top was now soaked with tea, becoming slightly translucent. Half of Severus was now laser-focused on the stretch of the damp fabric over your tits, while the other half was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.
You asked him a question, he realizes. Jerking his head around to face you properly, he blurts out, "Huh?"
Oh he's doomed, he thinks.
-
You gasp and grab his arm, "Oh no I'm already so late I need to go right now but listen, here's a bit of money to buy yourself a new drink it's the least I can do I'm so so sorry for running into you and dashing away but I really am late it was nice to meet you bye!"
Hustling away, you sigh and hope you run into him again. Such a shame you couldn't stay and flirt longer. Checking your watch, you growl and break into a jog. Fuck this day, you think.
-
"Fuck this day" Severus mutters, before heading down an alley to dissipate home. Just like him to meet someone who actually thinks he's attractive only for them to be so late they have to literally run.
It was only a fraction of a moment, but Severus knows it'll be the thing keeping him from falling down a pit of despair some nights.
Hating himself as he does it, he sniffs the money you handed him. It smells like your perfume. He sets it aside on his dresser.
Pathetic virgin, he thinks.
Later that night, however, he wakes with a gasp. "Idiot idiot idiot!" He snarls, yanking the covers away from himself. "You were so focused on them you forgot to check your soul mark" He glowers at himself in the mirror before lifting his tongue. There, on the underside, is a swirl unique to him and his soulmate.
His heart skips a beat when he sees it glitter in the dingy bathroom lighting. It's activated. And the only people he spoke to yesterday were you and the exhausted-looking barista.
He thinks of the look on your face when you saw him, how you pouted so cutely when you threw the napkins away. The way your clothes stretched over your body.
I've gone mad, he thinks, as he throws on some clothes and dissipates to an alley in London.
-
I am literally insane, you think.
You've been sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop you almost went in yesterday for about half an hour now. It's too early for anyone else to be up and about yet, it's about 3 in the morning. You woke up last night realizing you didn't check your soul mark after meeting that stupidly hot guy. Sure enough, it was activated.
You twist your fingers anxiously, hoping and hoping that he will show up eventually. You'll be so sad if it's not him.
Suddenly, you hear an odd noise in a nearby alley. Nervously, you run your hands along your pepper spray.
Turning your head to look, you see him. Disheveled and breathing heavy, he locks eyes with you and storms over.
Feeling slightly lightheaded, you rush towards him and lift your tongue up so he can see. Tears of happiness and overwhelm run down your face when he nods and shows you his activated mark.
"Can I...?" You open your arms, asking for a hug.
Hesitating, he steps into your embrace, standing like a stiff board while you sniffle into his shirt and squeeze him tight.
You have a good feeling about this.
(not sure how to end it so ill call it here 🤗)
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laugtherhyena · 4 months
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Sometimes i remember how long it took for Dra to get a full translation and think, wow, if it had a more speedy english translation back in the day (sorta like the one Sdra2 had) and i had my first experience with the game be as intended i don't think i would be writing -2+2 today
#putting this in tags because idk. my self-conscious bitchass tells me that this may ruin the fic for some people#but.#-2+2 started as a hatamori oneshot#the idea i mean#and then i started going “hey wouldn't it be cool if” and the ideas kept piling and piling#and i was like you know what i should make this a bigger thing#and it became a story focused narrative rather than a ship fic#but in it's core it's still the story i started writing out of thinking about my weird little rarepair and going#I NEED TO SHOW THEM MY VISION‼️‼️#and I get to write them living and being nice to eachother#going back to what i was talking about in the post. if my first impression with Dra had been with the full translated game#rather than learning about it from random Wikipedia pages. biased posts and massive spoilers#i am 99% sure i would be an ayakane shipper#cuz like. c'mon#they have so many moments in canon it's crazy#but nooooooo your girl here had to do a fucking 180 and become attached to hatamori instead#and i MEAN attached because when i got back into the another series last year i lost interest in all the ships i liked back in the day#EXCEPT FOR THEM#THEY'RE STILL MY FAVORITE PAIRING IN THE ANOTHER SERIES#and it's wild to me because at this point i don't even remember why i started shipping them to begin with#anyway. if you went through all these tags and feel disapointed don't worry#-2+2 is never gonna get to a point where they're gonna have a love confession and kiss in the mouth#because i want the focus to be the story and the characters rather than the ship itself#but it's still me writing it at the end of the day#so yeah.#hyena ramblings#dra#dra -2+2#danganronpa another
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tofixtheshadows · 15 days
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You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.
The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.
For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.
I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.
Like, this
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is funny.
But this?
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Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.
The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.
I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:
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Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.
And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.
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teaboot · 2 months
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As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD
It's the first time I've seen/heard it.
Could you share another one you like using?
Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!
Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')
Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')
Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')
Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)
I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)
Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)
Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)
I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)
Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)
Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)
Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)
Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)
Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)
Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)
Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)
Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)
The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)
Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)
What on God's green earth (What the fuck)
I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)
He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)
Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)
You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)
Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)
Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)
Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)
Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)
Gone belly-up. (Has died.)
We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)
Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)
I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)
Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)
Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)
Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)
He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)
They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)
He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)
Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)
I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)
Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)
I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)
He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)
He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)
Plant your ass. (Sit.)
Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)
He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)
He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)
One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)
I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)
I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)
Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)
Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now
EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite
52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)
Plus some more I forgot:
53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)
54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)
55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)
56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)
57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)
58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)
59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)
60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)
61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)
62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)
63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)
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falling-endlessly · 4 months
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Try Me
Vox x Female!Reader
Summary: You still have a few lessons to learn when it comes to teasing your boss.
Warnings: NSFW (18+), dub-con (kind of) INSPIRED BY THIS POST
Vox deserved a pat on the back for his patience. Truly.
You were relentless, hovering in his periphery, making him tense in anticipation for the next bullshit you were about to pull. First it was lingering touches on his hand when you brought him his coffee. Then it was bending over right in front of him in the conference room, enough for him to glimpse the pretty red and blue thong you were wearing underneath. But really, the cherry on top was the way you "accidentally" tripped on your heels, conveniently falling into him. One manicured hand dragged down his chest, the other down his thigh, right beside his straining cock as profuse, insincere apologies spilled from your lips.
Suffice to say, he was at his fucking limit. His self restraint was impressive, but not infinite.
"Mister Vox, where are we going?" You frowned questioningly as you scurried to keep up with his fast paces.
"A new office just opened up on the next floor," he hummed. "I figured you'd like to take a look at it before deciding if you want it."
"Oh, really? That's great!" You grinned, before it faded into a puzzled look. "But, why didn't you just tell me the room number? Not to pry, but you seem busy today, and I'd hate to distract you from your work."
Vox's smile strained, a low electric buzz emanating from his speakers. "Not to worry, my dear. I'd really rather show you myself."
You blinked innocently. "Well, if you insist."
He sent you a promising grin, but otherwise remained silent.
The walk to the "empty office" dragged on excruciatingly. Even if the whole floor was actually empty, he wanted to keep up with the facade you both were playing at, and not shove you into the first room with a door that he saw (even if he really, really wanted to) .
"Here we are," he announced cheerfully. The room was actually the most expansive one on the floor, completely furnished with a modern work station, a built in gas fireplace, and plush velvet couches. You barely took a step inside, eyes wide with awe, before he grabbed your neck, slamming you against the wall as he kicked the door closed with his foot. It locked automatically.
"Tell me, did you have fun?" He sneered, tightening his grip when you didn't respond immediately.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't—" you winced when he pressed closer, before choking out. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really?" He smirked dangerously, eyes wide and unhinged, before a clawed hand travelled down your waist. The tearing sound of your clothes made you gasp, your torn skirt falling uselessly to the ground as he greedily inspected your underwear. A slender finger hooked under the waistband, before letting it snap back against your skin.
"Red and blue stripes," he snorted. "A coincidence?"
"Fuck you," you spat, but there was an excited glint in your eyes.
"Oh, you will," he chuckled darkly, before grabbing you and roughly forcing you to kneel beside the desk. He took a seat on the office chair, grinning wickedly as he spread his legs leisurely. "But you're going to have to earn it first, doll."
Your mouth watered, hands grasping greedily at his knees, before sliding up to his crotch. Vox groaned when you slid your fingers over the edges of his cock, just barely missing where he really wanted them. You repeated this action a few more times, watching with satisfaction as his brow twitched in mounting frustration, before he finally snapped, grabbing your chin harshly and forcing you to look up at him.
"Fuckin' tease," he growled, baring his teeth. "You're going to regret that." His voice took on a deeper, more electronic tone at the end of his sentence.
"Will I?" You smiled coyly, making his grin widen. Challenge accepted.
In one smooth motion, he unzipped his pants and dragged down his underwear, making his pulsing cock spring up from its confines. Vox grit his teeth when the open air hit it, overly sensitive from your constant teasing.
You stared at it with wide eyes, mouth open as you took in the electric blue lines running up his shaft in a technological design, all leading to the weeping blue tip. Your warm breath puffed on the feverish skin, making him close his eyes in concentration, regulating his breathing.
"Something wrong, sir?" You asked innocently, and he almost busted on the spot from just that title alone. Here you were on your knees for him, and yet he was the one under your control. Oh, the irony.
"Not at all," he growled, fisting a handful of your hair at the back of your head, before shoving you forward onto his cock.
And holy fuck, the way you opened your mouth so obligingly, like you were waiting for this moment—like you'd practiced for it. He had to stab his own leg with his claws to control himself. Coppery blood ran down his skin in small rivulets.
You moaned deeply around his cock, the vibrations making him throw his head back with a gasp. "F-Fuck."
You glanced up at him knowingly, your pretty eyes batting at him as your lips slid up and down his dick. Then you swirled your tongue under his shaft, and wasn't that something. Vox let out a guttural sound that he didn't even know he was capable of, barely able to keep eye contact with you as he guided your head on his cock.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he panted, legs trembling with the effort not to cum. He needed to teach you a lesson, after all, and he couldn't do that with a limp dick.
Then, you did something that made his vision fucking white out. You started to swallow—and good god, he couldn't keep this up anymore.
He shoved you harshly off of his dick, your mouth leaving with a loud pop.
"Brat," he bared his teeth, before clawing violently at your shirt. The thin material didn't stand a chance, fluttering off in shredded ribbons. Then he ripped apart your bra, making your round tits bounce out. His jaw dropped a little as he stared at them, his cock twitching in longing. Fuck, was any part of you not perfect?
"Hey," you protested, glaring at him indignantly. "Those were expensive."
"I'll buy you ten more," he said distractedly, before pulling you up to stand. Your hands gripped the edges of his backrest, tits hovering inches from his face.
"I think it's time we give these," his hands came up to grip them, squeezing them playfully. "A little love, hm?"
To your amazement, a glowing blue tongue poked out of his mouth, curling around a pebbled bud. Your jaw dropped in ecstasy, unable to take your eyes off of the surreal view of Vox licking at your tits, red eyes flickering up to meet your half-lidded ones. You pushed closer in a silent plea for more.
"Ah, ah," Vox retracted his tongue, making you whimper from the loss. "Behave, or this stops now."
You nodded quickly, staring down at him pleadingly.
He let go of your tits, unsatisfied. "What was that? I couldn't hear you."
"Yes, I'll behave," you whispered desperately.
"Yes, what?" He sneered.
"Yes sir," you cried, moaning loudly when he grabbed a hold of your tits again, tugging you closer.
"Good girl," he grinned wickedly, before his tongue was generously laving over your tits, swirling attentively over your nipples.
"A-Ahhh," you sobbed, struggling to stay still as his hand squeezed and massaged your mounds.
"Thought you could tease me and get away with it? You fucking slut," he growled, harshly sucking a nipple into his mouth. He released it after a few moments, digging his claws into your flesh. "Or maybe, you wanted this to happen," he grinned knowingly, making you shiver. "Oh you did, didn't you?"
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you down so he could whisper in your ear, "Sweetheart, if you wanted me to split you open on my cock, all you had to do was ask."
Your breath hitched as he grabbed your hips, turning you around and shoving you onto the desk. "Hands above your head." He ordered firmly.
You obediently laid your palms flat on the surface, above your head. Your breath quickened in excitement as you felt his hands grab your ass, squeezing tightly and spreading your cheeks.
"Fuck," you heard him curse, before slender fingers crept between your thighs, rubbing gently. Your legs trembled as he easily slipped in a finger, pumping it a few times before slipping it out again.
Unable to hold back your curiosity, you turned back to look at him, only for your breath to stutter at the sight.
Vox had his eyes closed, long tongue swirling around his middle and index fingers like a lollipop. Your unmistakable slick dripped onto his tongue, and he greedily swallowed it with a contented sigh.
"Fucking delicious," he grinned, leering at your trembling form. "What, too much for you to handle?"
"Try me," you gasped, making his eye widen, electricity sparking from it.
"I'll make you beg for my cock," he laughed dangerously, before disappearing between your legs.
You barely had the chance to process what just happened, before a strangled scream left your lips, your hips shoving further into his mouth.
"Shhh babygirl," he pulled back, squeezing your ass gently. "Wouldn't want someone to hear, now would you?"
"No sir," you bit your lip, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
"See? This is why you're my favorite," he chuckled, giving your pussy a rough pat. Then he replaced it with his warm tongue, and your eyes rolled back in your head.
He flicked it gently over your clit, pulling back to lather over your dripping hole, before circling back teasingly. You shuddered, tears freely streaming down your face as you moaned softly. A tight pressure was building in your stomach, growing closer and closer to snapping the more attention he showered you in.
"V-Vox," you gasped out. "I—I'm gonna—"
He pulled away abruptly, making you whimper pitifully. Your hips canted towards him desperately, trying to chase your high, but he only moved back.
"What, did you think I was going to let you cum on my face?" He laughed mockingly, digging his claws into your ass. "After what you did today? Not a��chance."
He pressed you further into the desk, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Nah, a bitch like you needs to be taught a lesson."
Your mouth fell open as he pushed into you in one smooth motion, the ridges of his cock stretching you out painfully as he settled in deep.
"You're going to learn what happens when you misbehave," he punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust, making you choke. "You should be happy I have so much patience, or I would have fucked you right there on the conference table in front of everyone."
The mental image of him fucking you shamelessly in public made you moan, your hips wiggling further onto his cock. He growled, hands sliding up to hold your wrists down.
And then he started pounding into you. And you screamed.
"What's wrong? That pretty little mouth got nothing to say now?" He panted, gritting his teeth as he closed his eyes. "Where did all of that fight go, hm?"
"F-Fu—ahn—you!"
"Sweetheart, I'm balls deep inside of you right now," he rolled his hips to prove his statement.  "Try again."
"V-Vox, please!" You sobbed, cheek pressing into the surface of the desk.
"Tell me what you need, babygirl," he grinned.
"I-I want to cum," you hiccuped, vision blurring from pleasure.
"Aw, do you? I don't know about that," his grin widened, claws tightening on your wrists. "Do you really deserve it?"
"Please sir," you begged, turning around to look at him tearfully. "Please let me cum on your cock."
His grin faltered at the pleading look in your eyes, his screen tinting red as his teeth clenched. "Fucking brat," he gritted out, before his pace sped up, a clawed hand reaching down to rub tight circles over your clit.
Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes crossed, his dick splitting you open just like he promised. The coil in your stomach built up once more, stretching tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, your vision going white as you shook uncontrollably.
"Vox!" You cried, waves of pleasure cresting in your stomach, intensified by the fact that he was still harshly pounding into you.
Vox's breath hitched at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, screen glitching in euphoria. His thrusts lost their steady rhythm, instead hammering into you erratically as he chased his own orgasm.
Vox's claws dug gouges into the desk as he groaned your name, hips stuttering as he spilled deep inside of you. You shivered weakly at the feeling of his thick, warm cum filling you up.
When he'd finally spent everything he had, Vox pulled out of you gently, making you both gasp at the feeling. You heard the sound of a nearby drawer opening, before a wad of Kleenex gently wiped you dry. When both of you were adequately cleaned, warm arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a comforting chest. He sat you both down in the office chair, pressing a loving kiss to the top of your head.
"So? Mister Vox," you glanced up at him teasingly. "How was that?"
"Pretty fucking hot, babe," he laughed, squeezing you tightly. "Seriously, great idea. But I'm picking the next one."
"Yeah, yeah," you snuggled deeper into his chest, yawning tiredly. "Do you want to watch a movie when we get back home? I saw this really cool thriller trailer yesterday and I think you'll like it."
Vox smiled gently at you, closing his eyes as he pulled you closer. "Sure doll, anything you want."
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
part one | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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pierregazly · 3 months
Text
always the prize, always the winner ꨄ logan sargeant smau
logan sargeant x pop star!reader
in which logan is actually pretty okay with being known as the biggest pop star in the world's arm candy. who would complain about that, really?
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yourusername
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yourusername back doing what i do best!! (watching this handsome man get asked solely about me in interviews and then singing songs about it) (ps i love you) (pps yes that is a song)
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logansargeant why are you so obsessed with me?
logansargeant im not complaining btw cause like... never stop?
logansargeant but also pps cant wait to hear it 🤍
yourusername just for this attitude you're the LAST to hear it now (handsome)
username still never gonna understand how LOGAN SARGEANT bagged ms ma'am but okay! 🤭
username a couple mutually obsessed with each other? (gag) (obsessed)
oscarpiastri i get asked questions about you too?
yourusername yes and your one word answers are SO riveting.
username why is no one talking about the SONG??? PS I LOVE YOU???? im going to throw up
username it's going to be the most disgustingly loving obsessive song ever and it's all about this american MAN
username never seen a man luckier than logan sargeant
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logansargeant has posted a story
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yourusername nothing makes me happier than running into you in the most random of places. always there when i need you most 🫶🏻
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logansargeant i would meet you in the middle of a croc swamp if i had to
logansargeant not a snake pit though, you're on your own for that one kid
yourusername you're on your own kid... what a song title 🤭
alex_albon we have a race next week??? in australia??? why are you in america
logansargeant 🤫
username god these two make me sick!!! (affectionate)
username if they ever break up... imagine the album ugh. i need it
username maybe let's not wish a breakup on anyone??? especially these two?? wtf
lilymhe begging u to release the songs even if they're about logan
yourusername they're actually about you?? 🫶🏻
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ynupdates during an interview before the melbourne gp this weekend, logan gushed about finally getting to see yn after a few weeks apart, and when asked if she'd be attending any of the upcoming gp's all he did was smile and say 'she could be here right now, but i'm not going to be the one to expose her?' - so, if anyone is at the melbourne gp be sure to keep your eyes out!
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username oh he SO flew to san fran so she wouldn't have to fly to australia alone.. king energy??
username i know he always says he's the winner but that man would walk through hell for her so idk
username omg omg im gonna be at the gp this weekend!!! i'll keep an extra eye on everything and anything william's
username imagine going to a FORMULA 1 RACE and running into THEE pop star yn
username logan it's your weekend to get some points!!! impress your gf, be the prize and the winner for once!! (at least get points)
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replies
logansargeant not you posting my garage but not even coming to see me??? hell is a place on earth and it's where i am right now
yourusername literally my words every time im away from you??? go win points love u my handsome lil eagle man <333
logansargeant gross <3
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logansargeant LFGGGGG!! first points of the year, and a 5th place finish at the melbourne gp!! let's go up from here!! honoured to have had my best friend here, always gonna be a winner when you're involved angel 💗
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yourusername literally wreck my plans, THAT'S my man
yourusername so fricken proud of you handsome!!! knew calling you my lil eagle man would win you some points
yourusername love you so much pls
logansargeant love you more pretty <3
williamsracing that's OUR shared comfort american man. it's all up from here!
username LFGGGG
username RAH RAH WTF IS A KM 🦅
username 🦅🦅🦅
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yourusername in honour of my boyfriend, my new album 'lover' will be out 24.03.14 - an ode to the man who has shown me how you can be a prize and a winner all in one. logan, i love you more than anything. always.
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logansargeant and to think i always said it was a joke when i asked you to write an album for me.
logansargeant i love you to the moon and back, i know i've heard every song but i can't wait to hear it again. you're the best ever
yourusername god. i'm so lucky to be known as yours lo 💗
oscarpiastri if anyone asks me about this. one word answers only. riveting.
yourusername riveting?
oscarpiastri riveting.
username I KNEW IT
username THERE WAS WAY TOO MANY REFS TO NEW SONGS
username god this is gonna make me feel so single. i literally can't wait.
ynnation love songs for the ages, we know it. an icon, and congrats to logan for getting his first points of the year!!
username this is SO for all the logan haters, ain't none of y'all ever gonna make our girl feel the way he does!!!
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authors notes
this was so self-indulgent bc i haven't written in forever but im going through a logan phase. i hope you all love it 💗 i also lost my tag list so pls enjoy regardless ily
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satoruhour · 10 months
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ur gonna get sick of seeing me in ur inbox lol but t i’ve been thinking a whole lot about sugar daddies and i need to know what the jjk men would be like as sugar daddies and what type of sugar baby they’d go for and and and their favourite things to do with you, both inside and outside the bedroom 💖 and how likely they are to fall in love and make u their wifey
a/n: i am so normal about jjk men. this shit is so long i got carried away. it’s too long that i’ll need to seperate and post nanami’s and toji’s part in a second post TT pt. 2 here
warnings: long piece, sugar daddy!au, discussions of kinks including daddy kink, creampies / breeding, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, facials, cumshots, praise, degradation, dp, threesome, voyeurism, orgasm denial, overstimulation, lingerie, brat-taming, let me know if i missed anything. n*sfw under the cut
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✶ GOJO
most annoying sugar daddy eva but he’s one of the fun ones where he feels like your best friend and sponsor all in one
i honestly see gojo not having a preference for specific sugar babies, but he doesn’t like babies who are ashamed of their relationship. like it’s one thing to be private of your relationship but another to introduce satoru as just your trust fund without alluding to your relationship
“he’s helping me with my university fees” like yeah any rich FRIEND could do that but it’s different from hooking an arm around his to introduce you two as a couple
sure maybe he may have blurred the lines at first when touches became more personal and whatnot but at this point he’s basically your boyfriend — even if you don’t want to explain the sugar daddy part, he still wants to be know as your partner and equal
you two “met” at an event where you were paid minimum wage for a waitress job, serving drinks to rich ppl and he’s so entranced with how you move. it’s not until later when he goes outside to accompany geto for a smoke that he sees you and your friends who worked the job together just talking and laughing in the parking lot while you rested your feet 
it was cute and refreshing seeing your laughter after experiencing your stoic expression in the stuffy event even he didnt want to go to. since it was once of the first few events he started attending as a new CEO
made an impression by approaching you when your friends went in and your back was turned but you took him as a creep and screamed and punched him and he’s groaning while you just apologise profusely
it’s his fault, he knows, approaching in such a dark area but he doesnt mind the dark bruise forming on his nose bridge even when his best friend was laughing from a distance and youre helping him off the ground. your hands are so soft and your voice so sweet he swears he wants to protect you from the get go
after that whole hooha, he finds out youre still a uni student trying to pay off fees and randomly asks if you want to be his sugar baby and realises he wants you to be his gf when you’re playing some digimon video game at his house, enjoying your winter break. youre triumphant in the round and he grabs your wrist mid celebratory pose and pulls you to him
are you going to punch me for payback? gojo pfts and laughs, and just says just wanted to tell you i like you and LEAVES dude is so afraid of your answer until youre wrapping your arms arnd him from behind muttering out a finally and hearing the vibration of his chuckle
gojo wants his baby to ask for help when you needs it, and doesn’t mind being spoiled
LOVES to buy you flashy stuff. glittery, bright coloured things (that somehow still look classy) that scream expensive. gojo is very good at persuasion. he listens you dont like it however
i feel like the more he gets to know you, he understands your style more so while some of the things he buys are still fairly gaudy, you’re surprised every time he manages to purchase something that fits your preference. he’s gotten very good at it
gojo wires you money when he feels like it, whenever. he calls what he has a “sugar baby radar” and it’s just him thinking youre panicking over not having money for a textbook or something and just types in a random amount to transfer to you lol
he’s just a chill guy though, who wants to be a good boyfriend as he is a sugar daddy. like yeah he’s had sugar babies before and he enjoys giving but you’ve always hooked him in from day one and he realises he doesn’t just want to give you money but love too
gojo wants a bit of balance in the relationship as well — so he accompanies you to fashion stores to try on clothes but he would also love it if you followed him to tailor stores or watch stores for normal CEO stuff 
you roll your eyes but actually you love every suit he changes into, and you always think of taking him right there
he LOVES his sunglasses that’s one thing he’s always dragging you to look at
and then there is interests that involve the both of you: lingerie shopping lol, jewellery, etc
he gets you a little G.S. initial necklace for your second anni and it looks so cute on you
clingy and so annoying bout it. you love it tho, seeing such a rich guy babble out five more minutes with hair sticking out everywhere.
he surrenders to you easily in the way he lets you crash his place whenever you’re cramming for an exam, or just needs some comfort. his things becomes yours very easily and he smiles when he finds himself wanting to learn how to cook properly when you’re sleeping in
likes to buy lingerie that matches his eyes, but ofc also picking your preferred colour. but seeing the fabric that matches the blue of his eyes drives him crazy, but also he gets to say “my eyes are always on you” and it’s just a reference to how there’s baby blue lingerie on you
HES SO LAME . i swear to god.
also a little bit of a boomer when it comes to younger slang and whatnot and it’s endearing to see when he’s supposed to be a CEO but you can’t help but laugh when he asks you for help on what fomo meant
very open on topics that touchy subjects or sensitive things. he may appear loud and annoying but he’s got depth to him due to his hardships since he was young. like yeah sure a guy who already was in line to take over his father couldn’t have hardships when he was young but he’s always despised this line of work. satoru is still finding a way to break off from his toxic family business to create his own, something that wont come without blackmail and scandals
the first time you heard this you were surprised because you had never seen gojo so serious before. he mentions it’s not obligatory for you to open up as well, but you mumble along about always struggling with money and working jobs to make ends meet. it’s not detrimental, but sometimes you wish there was someone treating you to a small meal or drink
this vulnerable state was early on in your relationship as well, and as you two go along, gojo is so grateful to be able to take care of you. it strengthens your relationship as well, because while you have your funny, hysterical moments, being vulnerable with your sugar daddy turned boyfriend is everything you could ask for
gojo realises the first time he might put a ring on you was when you guys had sex that was intense and broke the headboard LMFAO you two laughed about it during it, but during aftercare you’re patting his chest, telling him how you’ll end work early to meet him at IKEA to get a new one tomorrow — that simple act of going with someone to find furniture like ohhhh my god he was so whipped
like it’s one thing to buy clothes and material things but when you said that, flashes of your possible married life flashed before his eyes and he wants to say i love you but finds you’re already asleep. he can’t wait to actually move out of his family sponsored home into an apartment with you. gojo doesn’t care if it’s smaller than mansions and penthouses. if you’re happy, he is.
n*sfw hc’s below
gojo is open to a lot of things regarding your sex life. he didn’t want to scare you when you first started out but when he found out you’re just as much of a freak as he is he’s going to pound town baby!
not big on the daddy kink ngl (and he also because he’s too pathetic to be called a daddy), but loves using it in the context of cumming in you and breeding you and the prospect of you being pregnant with his child. 
even if it’s not on his checklist right now, he just loves the filthiness and saying things like that
loves to fuck in bathrooms of important events, the cold marble against your skin making you freeze up as your eyes can hardly focus on your reflection. you’re just thankful you were able to find the ‘cleaning’ sign to prevent anyone from entering
loves to tease you and threaten to take away his black card and youre whining. hes annoying, asking you to use your words and youre begging to cum on his fingers.
very playful in the bedroom but he’s always calling you his dumb baby who loves getting fucked stupid by him until theres only money and him on your mind
loves it when you wear the extensions to the G.S. initial necklace, buying four more initials: two for your wrist, two for your ankles so he can hear it jingle when you stroke his cock while your flick your tongue at his tip
r hear it next to his ear when your legs are on his shoulder as he rails into you
on a funnier note he would totally fuck you on a bed of money. just for shits and giggles
loves to film you especially in his office, whether you’re playing with yourself or sucking him off or getting fucked he loves it so much bc of the fact he’s so unprofessional in a professional setting
gojo likes it when you initiate sex, especially in places that are risky and pretty public. his office is a starter, coming in dressed in a tight pencil skirt to mirror his insufferable PA who kept making advances on him. she was demoted the very next day LMFAO
but yeah you wore the skirt to provoke him, pulling his tie over the table while a stocking clad knee rests on his wooden desk. there’s a confidence in you he’s never seen before and he just cant resist flicking his eyes down to the suffocating button up shirt you’ve got on
satoru doesn’t care that his whole office can hear you moan out his name or the slaps of his balls on your ass. or doesn’t really care about the construction workers looking at you two go at it like rabbits from the opposite building
the heat of the glass paired with your body that feels on fire is enough to make you lightheaded but the eyes and ears peeking in on your intercourse is so thrilling to you bc you know gojo can just pay them off to shut the fuck up
loves you on your knees giving him head when he’s in an important meeting, the swirl of your tongue feeling so good on his length
but what’s more he loves giving you head even more. doesnt matter where. office table, washing machine, bed, he’s so in love with your cum and cunt and has to eat you out at least once a day
gojo loves to cum in you but also on your face, especially if you wear glasses. seeing his white hot cum splattered on your lenses and your face while your tongue darts out to lick some of it off he swear there’s a few more blobs of cum that seeps out from his tip
warnings for drabble: reader has glasses, pet names, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, face-fucking, praise, facial, cum eating, semi-public sex 
“baby— sweetness, oh my g-god…” gojo whines out, once the board members are out of the meeting room, rolling his chair back slowly while you follow on your knees, cock still in your mouth. he’s glancing down at you with such need you’d think you’re the one leading the relationship, the hands in your hair tightening when you lick down his shaft before taking one of his balls in his mouth, sucking at the sack while pumping him.
the long acrylic nails that he paid for are on display along with your G.S. bracelet as you pump his dick, slick, wet noises fill the spacious meeting room. gojo almost wants to say something but your head descends on his large cock again, taking him right to the back of your mouth when his tip hits your throat and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you breathe through your nose.
“fuuckk… that’s it. take me s’well,” satoru moans at the tears forming at your waterline, pulling your head off for a moment for you to catch your breath and you know what he wants to do, because his hips cannot resist one bit whenever you’ve got his dick in your mouth. slowly, he starts to move his body off the office chair, thrusting up into your waiting, obedient mouth and he moans so loud he isn‘t surprised someone hasn’t come in already.
“so wet and warm, princess— s-shit, can’t wait to fuck your cute little pussy,” he has a foul mouth, and you moan around his length at the words, hands tensing around his thighs as he continued to fuck your face. gojo is so rough that your glasses are messed up, tilting to one side but you continue to feel up his body. you would get fired like this, sucking the cock of someone who has their pants pulled down halfway while wet, gurgling noises fill the space. but you knew the CEO, the man who’s now whining out your name as his hips start to stutter, eyes scrunched up in pure pleasure before forcing you off his cock, hands stroking his leaking cock in quick movements. you adjust your glasses like a good girl, sticking out your tongue as you admire the sight before you. want my cum all over your face, angelface?
satoru whimpers out that he’s gonna cum! with his heavy, beautiful cock out, pumping harshly before he shoots his load all over you, spilling his white, viscous liquid all over your face and glasses and you swallow whatever that’s close to your mouth and tongue, darting out to lick up the heavy ball of cum still leaking from his sensitive tip, and he jolts on your tongue.
you giggle, hand closing around his length once more and gojo just groans at its warmth. he loves it, he loves everything ’bout you and he can’t wait to turn over the tables later when he hears you say, “again.”
✶GETO
doting sugar daddy!!! out of sex life he’s the most ‘giving’, but he has his moments of depriving you of things because you being a brat but yes he’s the softest in the normal context of a relationship
similarly, not much preference for sugar babies but he wouldn’t like babies who ask for too much? idk if that makes sense but it’s more of being given so many options of a type of clothing or bag but still whining to want something more expensive
like the money doesn’t bother him but it’s more of your attitude regarding material things. can’t stand babies who are rotten to the core and are actually spoiled that it ruins the act of him giving you things and of you asking for things because no matter what he buys you’re not satisfied
it also pisses him off if it carries into your way of treating people, dragging him away from his co-workers to only want him for yourself, that sort of thing
yea… that. unfortunately he’s had his fair share of babies like that, bc he’s so generous they end up so spoiled and terrible that even now he’s still getting texts from them. poor guy
he likes if you’re able to bite back with your own sort of fire, he doesnt expect you to if you dont like to but it turns him on seeing you shout at a co-worker for gossiping about your relationship perhaps
he met you through your intern position at his company, and it’s been a few weeks before you’re confused at why the CEO wanted to see you 
hes not one to rush into relationships but he was so interested in seeing you react to being asked to be his sugar baby that he blurts it out and slaps his hand on his mouth. “wrong thing. my bad”
when you’ve been under his care for a few months, he sees how hard you work while completing other assignments at lunch, he wants you to surrender to him when you need the comfort. lets you sleep in his office and reluctantly stroked your hair, shaking when you lean into the affection. ends up sleeping on the floor watching you and gets massive back pain and suffocates when you fall onto your boss at 7am in the morning
unfortunately the two of you were not exactly on the same page that day. you thought it was a one off thing. geto thinks youre already dating. this goes on for a few weeks ;;;
geto NEEVERR asked you out so you were surprised to find that geto wanted to be like, an actual boyfriend and an actual date when he showed you a piece of paper and it was like a new pottery studio that opened down the road
and he just says “i thought we already were dating?????”
yeah like he wasnt giving you more things than usual and being more touchy with you. you didnt want to read into it too much okay!!!!
but it’s fine, because geto was one of the best boyfriend you ever had. youre convinced he would be a great bf even if you werent in this sugar daddy / baby arrangement
geto likes to show you off quietly, a hand on your back and your thigh, or a whisper to your ears that it has the other workers talking, but you don’t mind when the things he says are sometimes the sweetest things. they’re also filthy.
it isnt bc he doesn’t want to show you off, but he likes the attention and gossip when you enter his office for the nth time that day and the eyes on him like he’s committing a crime. he likes the eyes that follow you knowing they can't have you. but he pays them, so they can’t say much
suguru loves to buy things that are for his eyes, going back to the ‘showing you off quietly’ part, like paying for a tattoo on your lower back, an anklet that’s sometimes hidden in your shoe, a belly button piercing, lingerie, he loves it
ofc he loves buying you clothes and dresses too, but he sometimes gets a bit jealous of everyone’s eyes on you so they’re sometimes a little less revealing than you would like
ok i should clarify too: he LIKES everyone’s eyes on you only when he knows he can show and tell them that youre his. but how tf is he supposed to do that with a mere dress??? u get what i mean
he’s not going to be an asshole and not let you wear a revealing piece of apparel that you like tho! but just know what you’ll be getting later at night lol
geto is very on trend as an older person, sometimes sending you tiktok trends you can do or updating you on conventions or events that you are interested in
he likes routine, so everyday he’ll be transferring a set amount of money to you for your daily allowance but sometimes you dont even use it all so it just piles up in your account lol
and he is observant, always wiring you more money than usual if you’re going out with your friends or meeting a friend for a bday, sacrificing his time to learn about your major so he can help you in whatever way he can !!! he’s that sort of bf
gives you handmade gifts sometimes!! it’s soooo endearing when he makes time for it and gives you something that isnt bought w/ money. likes to do those photo ones bc theyre ones that mean more to him, but he also rlly likes writing letters under them and giving you like a seven page letter talking bout why youre a blessing to him
is pretty stylish when he’s not in his suits. likes to wear baggy clothes like he’s nineteen again and he looks young enough to pull it off so you two always look cool when you two go out
weirdly his personality at work and on dates is vastly different from each other. you think that maybe he wants to keep work, work. but later on in the relationship you both realise it’s how you’re so easy-going to be around that he doesn’t have to be dominating with you??? like he’s so okay with you putting bunny ears on him or having his arm hooked around yours instead. basically he’s very comfortable in his masculinity and he wishes he could be like that at work too, but the finance bros would be questioning why this guy was even their CEO
geto listens to you easily. and like i said hes observant, bringing you a glass of water when you’re coughing or opening the blinds of his office when you’re reading. the smile you give him after every favour he does is enough reward for him, and he really doesn’t mind doing all those things for you either.
basically worships you, so when you’re suggesting that his company start having courses for men to learn how to be proper human beings (following your question of why he’s so diff at work vs with you), he’s immediately setting up a meeting to achieve that. the guys who are borderline misogynists obviously leave immediately and hes just like. why didnt i think of that b4????
is always always thinking of you. he’s become so distracted in meetings and conversations sometimes and your spell on him is hypnotising.
the first time he realises he properly loves you (and also wants to marry you) is when you two make love. like yes you’ve fucked and shit but it happens inside a shower where you offered to wash his hair. it’s cute seeing you stand on a small stool to reach his height, but the feel of your fingers massaging the shampoo into his scalp is soooo good. and from there he lets you wash his body with the loofah too, scrubbing down every inch until ofc one thing leads to another
he thinks it was your hands that held so much love, washing his body that the sex was slow and had a lot of feelings laced with it.
he also didn’t want to fall, though. but you slipped a little after coming the first time and geto was able to catch you in time. you shared giggles and a little kiss and he thinks that maybe this life forever with you would be one of the best things to happen to him
his resolve solidifies later when he’s calling his usual tiler to retile the showering part of the bathroom and when he ends the call he just goes would i do this for anyone else?
yeah probably not — and so geto buys a ring the very next day
n*sfw hc’s below
very comfortable with letting you take the lead if you want to, but usually likes to be the one running the show
like gojo he is very open to things but only if you’re okay with it. like you have to be the one to bring it up or he’s afraid he’ll scare you lol
gets turned on easily, but he’s very good at hiding it. like the day you wore a revealing dress to his office. it was so difficult not to moan out when he sees you walk through the door. he wanted to stand up and kiss you SO bad but he was in a zoom meeting with potential clients lmfao
but he made sure you knew you wouldnt be teasing him and getting off so easily that day after he asks you to stay where you were and he ended up making up some lame excuse of having another meeting anyway before he leaves the call and locks the door and slams you against it and he hikes up your dress as he places a leg on his shoulder
geto eats you out right then and there
also rmb how i said he gets jealous of ppl staring at you? well suguru loves it if it were to happen in a sexual context and he gets to fuck you in front of everybody. he just cant show them you belong to him at a normal event in a dress he bought, but he’s totally fine with pounding you from behind and letting them watch as you get ruined with tears and mascara running down your face
can be really mean behind doors if he’s not sweet with you. you like to tease him!!!! Sometimes you’re punished for it!!!! geto loves both ends of the spectrum: denying you your high and overstimulating you. he only ever denies you if youre being a brat but usually he likes to make you cum on his tongue multiple times before he’s fucking you
he enjoys your face of want and need, either grinding against him to cum (denial) or pushing him away despite your body wanting it (overstim)
sometimes makes you work for your allowance and tells you to tell him who’s fucking you so good just for some money in your pocket. your pussy is too good so he was going to give it to you anyway 
is not opposed to voyeurism. usually he brings his best friend over to fuck you and bc he’s a whiny bitch, geto gets off to both of you fucking like dogs in heat with a slow pace to his hand. often initiates threesomes with gojo and makes him the middle man, fucking him while gojo fucks you and he loves it every time. sometimes he makes gojo watch the two of you too
but he also loves it when you take two cocks in you, him up your pussy bc youre his, first and foremost, while satoru takes your ass. 
regarding sex, suguru likes it when you take the reins to pleasure yourself. he gets off seeing you use him as ive mentioned in the previous drabble, and just like the denial / overstim part, loves to see your mouth contort into an ‘o’ along with your rolled back eyes. bounce on his dick, ride his face, slobber over his cock while you rub your clit, he fuckin loves it
not big on the daddy thing either, but it depends on his mood tbh. im not sure how that works but he likes when you use it when youre deep in subspace and just going limp as he fucks you and all can manage is moaning out small “daddy’s” helplessly
warnings for drabble: gojo watches, sub!gojo, voyeurism, insinuation of stsg, exhibitionism, m! masturbation, overstimulation, semi-public sex, oral (f and slight m receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, pet names, praise, cum eating, implied threesome + 2nd round
“suguru— no, f-fuck, they’re gonna hear!” you muffle your moans with your mouth, hand clasped tight onto your lips while you’re pressed up against the door. you’ve been like this for three orgasms already, legs shaking while you struggle to keep your knees from buckling under you. it’s like geto doesn’t even care how the office door is so thin, occasional thumps occurring from how geto pushes you against the wood. the workers outside obviously know what’s going on, but they don’t dare say a word.
“let me enjoy this, princess,” he manages to say quickly before going back to slurping up your juices, but while you think your situation is bad, you’re glancing over to gojo in geto’s office chair, hand stroking his cock languidly, but every so often you can see how satoru thrusts his hips into the air, needing anything but his own hand right now. “and keep eye contact with satoru.”
geto purrs out his best friend’s name, pulling your hips towards his relentless mouth as your arousal drips down your inner thighs and legs. across you, there’s gojo who looks like he wants to touch the both of you so terribly, but is only subjected to tearful eyes and his warm hand that doesn’t compare to suguru’s or your mouth, little pants leaving his mouth. he watches as you grind your hips into his best friend’s mouth, the obscene noises of your sopping wet cunt makes him twitch in his hand.
“babygirl… suguru…” he whines out, sweat dripping down his body at the stuffiness of the office while the slick noises of him stroking his length reverberates throughout the room. geto hums at his begging voice, but only sucks on your clit harder and it makes you moan out, hands getting lost in his long black hair while your eyes are threatening to roll to the back of your head. the only ground you have now is satoru’s bright blue ones, a shiver going through you when he whimpers out your name
“you’re doing so well, s-satoru… shit,” you’re calling out to the white-haired male who locks eyes with you, both turned on at such a sight: the sweaty hair stuck to your face and your beautiful sounds, the flush on gojo’s cheeks and his angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum. “suguruu… oh my god—”
“yeah?” he speaks in between slobbering all over your pussy, “so fuckin’ wet for me, baby,” flicking and playing with your puffy, sensitive clit with his tongue until you hunch over him on a particular lick, the leg over his shoulder squeezing him so much that it cramps and you’re cumming suddenly and you’re forgetting about satoru and everyone outside. your head slams so hard against the door that you get a little lightheaded, but the crashing of your fourth orgasm is all you can fixate on as your body shudders and incessant whines escape your mouth.
“my favourite meal of the day,” geto smiles from below you and grins when you mumble out how it’s more of his fourth meal of the day, taking a hand from his hair before he places a kiss on the back of it and spares a glance towards gojo who’s close to crying.
with a nod from suguru, you’re walking on shaky legs before kneeling before satoru, wrapping your lips ’round his tip and that’s all it takes for him to cum, shooting ropes upon ropes of hot semen down your throat as you stroke his base. the other is bucking his hips into your mouth at the sensitivity, moaning out both your name and suguru’s.
“attagirl.” you slyly smile at the praise that befalls on your ears before showing both of them the cum that’s left on your tongue, already excited for the next round.
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4K notes · View notes
aemondsbabe · 4 months
Text
Stick it Out to the End
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summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance
pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 12.7k
a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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Michael
Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 
Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 
The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 
Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 
Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 
He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 
Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 
He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 
“What the –”
Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –
Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 
His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 
Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 
“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”
Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 
Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 
“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”
Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 
“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”
The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”
“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.
The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”
Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 
“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”
“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.
“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.
“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”
A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 
“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 
“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 
After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 
The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.
Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 
“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”
The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”
“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”
Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.
“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”
“Look, I’m –” 
Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.
“Problem over here, lads?”
“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 
Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.
“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 
Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.
“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.
As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 
His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.
“Oi!”
“W-What?” 
“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.
He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”
The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.
“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”
“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.
“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 
The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.
“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”
“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”
Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 
Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 
Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?
This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 
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You
A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 
“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 
You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 
The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 
You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 
Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 
Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.
“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 
She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”
Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 
“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 
“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”
You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 
Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 
Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 
“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.
“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.
Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 
“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”
His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.
“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.
“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”
“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 
“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 
You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”
“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”
Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”
“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”
“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”
He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”
You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 
“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 
“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 
Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”
“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 
“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.
“W-What?”
“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”
He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”
“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 
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True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 
The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 
“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  
Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 
“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 
“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 
“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 
His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 
“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 
“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 
You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 
“A normal amount?” 
“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”
“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”
You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”
His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”
Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.
“I –” 
“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 
“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.
“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”
He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”
His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 
“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”
“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.
“How do –”
“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.
“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”
“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.
“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”
“N-No, I really don’t think –”
“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.
Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.
“Oh, really?”
“I… I have to fuck you –”
“Mhm?”
“And prove I did somehow.”
“How interesting!”
He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.
“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 
He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”
Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”
He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”
“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”
“Well, I –”
“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”
“I… I suppose.”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”
“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 
You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”
He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”
You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”
He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”
You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 
“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.
You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 
You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.
Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 
“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 
“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 
You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.
He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 
Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 
You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 
He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”
“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 
“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 
“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.
He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 
You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”
He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 
“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 
“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 
“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 
Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 
“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 
“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 
His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 
“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.
Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 
You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 
He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 
He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 
“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 
Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 
“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 
“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 
Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don��t stop!” 
Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 
“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 
Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 
“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 
“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 
He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 
“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 
“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 
You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.
You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 
He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 
Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 
Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 
You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 
“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 
“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 
He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 
You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 
Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”
“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 
“W-What?” 
“You have a phone, yeah?” 
“…Yeah?”
“One that can, like, take video?” 
“Yes?” 
“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 
“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 
“Film me.” 
“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 
“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 
“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“
“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 
He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 
“Yeah? You wanna?” 
“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 
Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 
He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 
“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 
“You don’t want to anymore?” 
“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 
“‘N what would that be?” 
“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 
He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 
Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 
He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 
“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 
“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 
He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 
As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 
You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 
“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.
“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 
“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 
The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 
The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 
That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 
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The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 
Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 
“Something funny?” 
“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 
“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 
“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 
He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 
Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 
“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 
Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 
“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 
You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 
“W-Well, yeah, but —“
“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 
“What does that mean?” 
“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 
His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 
He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 
He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 
“You’re sure?” 
“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 
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Michael
Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 
He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 
11:47 AM. 
He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 
“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 
“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 
“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 
Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 
He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 
He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 
Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 
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It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 
Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 
The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 
Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.
Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 
He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 
“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 
The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 
“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 
The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 
The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 
“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 
The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 
“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 
Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 
The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 
“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”
“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 
“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”
“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”
“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”
Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 
The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 
The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 
The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 
Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.
After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 
“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”
He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
“Welcome to Bullingdon.”
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Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 
He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 
Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 
Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.
“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.
“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”
Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”
“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”
“Can you blame me?”
“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”
“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 
“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 
Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 
Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 
He has the real thing now.
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soapybutt17 · 17 days
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The Ex and Why's
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Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago.. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Word Count: 9,787 Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!) AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
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After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
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It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
“Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
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To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
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One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
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It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
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It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
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eustasskidagenda · 7 months
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anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?
Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡
☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex
CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000
You can read the part two here & the part three here
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Kid
Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 
Seriously, Kid, ugh. 
So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.
Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 
Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 
So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 
"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.
Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 
He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"
He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.
"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.
He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 
"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 
And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.
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Zoro
Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?
He's trying his best.
Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 
He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 
Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 
"Now open your legs for me" 
Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 
He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 
Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 
If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.
"Such a brave girl"
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Law
As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 
He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 
"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 
As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 
He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 
And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.
"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 
He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.
Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 
"You're ready?" 
He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"
Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.
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Sanji
Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.
Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 
Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 
Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 
Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.
As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)
You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.
Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 
Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 
Sanji is so sweet please, help.
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moonit3 · 7 months
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THE PERFECT LOVER!
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere, violence, obsession, codependency, blood, murder, gender neutral reader but you are into guys only, axel is a little sh*t at first but then becomes a yandere, reader’s ingenuity, implied depression, slow burn, stalking, obsession.
➥ yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x gn! reader
➥ synopsis: desperate to be loved after rejections and being stand up numerous times, you hire a rent-a-boyfriend to delude yourself that someone actually loves you.
➥ a/n: with the poll done, here the post choose by you guys! for the story, i think i got this idea from the rent-a-girlfriend manga? but the story is pretty boring and don’t lead to anywhere as every character dumb ^ ^ , so i have decided to write something based on this plot with yandere, blood and some violence. this piece won’t have any smut on it, sorry. this work is longer than my others, aware.
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➥ like every start of the weekend, you are left to be alone at a friday night that you believed to be the day that you were going to meet your soulmate, but that was wrong. turns out the guy isn’t coming up for this second date as he texted, sorry. but you aren’t as attractive as I thought you would be!, resulting in you paying the drink you ordered was you were waiting for him to show up and walking back home.
➥ arriving home, you just throw yourself into the bed, ignoring the cute clothes and makeup you put on to impress that idiot, that doesn’t matter with the tears already flowing down to your chest. why this keep happening to you? all people you know or see in the streets are happily living their lives with someone at their side, even having children after years of being together. but you, you didn’t even got to the second phase of dating nor a boyfriend, all guys would just ghost you after the first date (if they even bother to show up).
➥ could it be that you are destined to be alone? your heart is breaking piece by piece with every failure that lead you to a final attempt in order to make you feel less lonely, a rent-a-partner dating site. it’s really bad that you are hiring someone to pretend to be your love, your are paying them to make up for your loneliness. you are quite pathetic, right?
➥ scrolling at the numerous pages full of candidates, you came across one that easily called your attention. axel, auburn hair with freckles all over his face and of course, a cute smile! the picture itself made you blush and already imagine the millions scenarios with him. a picnic at the park, maybe a shopping date where he buys you the jewelry you always wanted or even holding your hands! stay chill, [name]. he is a rent-a-boyfriend, not a real one, he is getting paid for it.
➥ and you did hire him for a completely service next day, your heart start beating faster and you couldn’t help but spend some hours preparing the perfect set of clothes to impress axel. something that is both casual, yet classy to give him the impression that you aren’t desperate for this nor that you never had a properly relationship before, nah, you are just trying to forget about your exe (at least that what you’ve told in your bio).
➥ once the day finally arrives, you put the best clothes from your wardrobe and waits for axel to show up at the cafe where the date will be set. sitting next to the glass window, taking a sip your favorite drink, he arrives. the redhead boy sit in front of you with that smile on the face, already acting and analyzing you from head and toes, oh god. he is even handsome in person!
➥ the date start so good! he is truly a gentleman with his manner and his acting is amazing, the way he holds your hand at every moment and how he pays attention in whatever you are talking is more than enough to make you blush. you feel lucky to have hired a guy like him, he truly makes the experience feels to real that you ended paying him more just to stay a little longer than you planned at first, and of course, he made it worth it.
➥ when his job was done, axel walked you back home despite not having do it, but he did and even hold your hand in the way. he said it’s to protect you from any possible danger or guy that might try to flirt with you, making you blush more and more (his plan is working!). once you got home, he kissed your forehead and waited until you got inside to leave with that smile of his, happy that everything is working out perfectly.
➥ to you, he is the perfect boyfriend that you always wish to have since the very moment you learn about romance, that’s why you are going to hire him more. and to axel, you are more than willingly to pay more than usual just to him pretending to be your boyfriend, aren’t you a little silly? you must be really lonely to have hired him from that stupid site, but he isn’t complaining, after all, you are the one paying him.
➥ then more and more dates happen, axel pretending to be your boyfriend while you began to truly falling in love with him, completely forgetting that he is just with you for the money and ranks of the enterprise he is part of, yet it’s easy to notice that you believe that axel is in love with you, that he will stop being a rent-a-boyfriend to become your real boyfriend. so you propose it to him after many dates, only to be rejected.
➥ his laughs are tormenting your mind and his words are unforgettable. you really thought that i loved you? you are so funny, [name] and quite pathetic too. do you really thought that i would stay with you if wasn’t the amount of money you spend on me? you are delusional for thinking that you are worth of my love. with that, you ended the contract with axel and leaves him immediately with tears ruining your makeup and clothes. he expected that you would apologize to him, but no, you blocked him from your social medias and deleted the photos that you posted with him. despite being his highest paying client, axel moved on to others clients and you moved on to find someone else.
➥ a couple of weeks passed and he couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. the expression you gave him whatever he would surprise you, the small gifts you gave him that he always wanted and the kisses you two share when it was his time to leave. why is thinking about it? you were just a client like everyone else, but why you are in his mind? he needs to stop thinking about you. so he began taking even more to job in an attempt to forget you.
➥ it was working until he catch a glimpse of you during one his job, you are serving tables at a expensive restaurant that his date asked to come and there are visible marks of dark undertones beneath your eyes. did something happened to you? he wants to ask it, but that would ruin the date and he won’t get his payment, so he keeps to himself and tries to pay attention on the woman that hired him.
➥ at some point of the date, he excused himself to go the bathroom, where he got hear some faint sounds coming from the kitchen and of course, he wanted to check it. there, he saw you hugging another coworker of yours in tears and your voice broken him, the way you spoke to your friend about being stupid enough to think that you are worth of love and how you are never going to fall in love again. axel knew that he did hurt you, but never expected it to hurt you so much to make you feel horrible…he needed to apologize.
➥ after his date, axel wait for you at the back doors and as expected, you were there, but weren’t alone. there is another guy standing next to you, someone he recall to be another waiter of the restaurant, someone who is too close of you with a arm around your waist. you replaced him? no, you can’t do it. axel began to talk, at least try, about his mistake and how he will repay for all the things you did for him, he even knee on the ground to ask for your forgiveness for his acts.
➥ it’s embarrassing that he is asking forgiveness from someone he treated like trash, but axel has to do it to beg for your forgiveness and to get back together with him, this time to become a real couple til their last breath on earth. i know that i was an idiot, a fucking horrible person and that y-you deserve someone better than me, but i promise that i have changed to be someone better just for you! let me become your boyfriend, a real one this time and then we get married one day , have a family if you want and grown old together. and he spoken even more til he loses his voice.
➥ you didn’t speak, not able to talk for hearing so much of axel’s rambling, but you did slap him harder. he is acting like he is the victim in this situation and that made you yell at him for a couple of minutes til you were done. the emotion you put in your voice made axel cry of guilt and once you left him along your friend, the redhead began rethinking about the ‘relationship’ you two shared weeks ago. it was so perfect and he ruined that.
➥ after that, axel began stalking you in his free time and leaving gifts for you in your doorsteps, hoping that you would accept his handwriting notes full of apologies and money, only to be left devastated when you didn’t even bother open the letter and throw it away in the trash. but he didn’t give up, no, he still has hope to change your heart and accept him once again.
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@moonit3 writings
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its-your-mind · 4 months
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ORV as textposts 36/???
[Photo ID - ten images from the ORV manhwa with text pasted upon them.
The first image shows Kim Dokja with his white cloak flying behind him. The text post is by Tumblr user gayarsonist and reads, "hey sorry i'm late i wandered into a liminal space". The reblog reads, "what do you mean i've been missing for 10 years"
The second image shows the back of Kim Dokja as he watches Yoo Joonghyuk walk up the stairs in front of him. The text post is by Twitter user nicola @/bbynic33 and reads, "'I could fix him" good for you. I joined him in his insanity"
The third image shows Han Sooyoung looking at the Dokkaebi Shop interface to the viewer's left and Kim Dokja looking away from her on the viewer's right. Two blue texts are pasted to the top of the image with the tail pointing toward Kim Dokja. The first one reads, "dumnass 😊.” The second text reads, "dumbass 😊😊😊😊😊😊.” Two gray texts are pasted to the bottom of the image with the tail pointed toward Han Sooyoung. The first text reads, "Lmao nace typo." The second one reads, "Fuck."
The fourth image shows the backs of Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk. A text timestamped Today at 10:11 am is next to Kim Dokja's head with the tail pointing toward him. It reads, "Guess what I'm about to get." Another text is pasted below it with the tail pointing toward Yoo Joonghyuk's head. It reads, "on my nerves."
The fifth image shows Bihyung the dokkaebi floating before Kim Dokja with lightning around him. A comment by user .shinobu is pasted upon him. It reads, "your little joke was quite amusing, i must admit. who knew a vile creature like you would be able to get a laugh out of me. well done."
The sixth image shows Kim Dokja with his eyes closed and his left hand held in front of him in prayer. Lee Hyungsung, Lee Gilyoung, Yoo Sangah, and Jung Heewon are looking at him in disbelief. The text post is by Tumblr user heavensghost and placed next to Kim Dokja's head. It reads, "talking about your feelings is SO important I won't do it but u guys definitely should". A Star Stream notification is at the bottom of the image in all caps. It reads, "[A few constellations are impressed by your shamelessness.]"
The seventh image shows Nirvana on the viewer's right with their arms outstretched. They are looking toward Yoo Joonghyuk, who is on the viewer's left and facing Nirvana with a sword. Kim Dokja is behind Yoo Joonghyuk and also looking toward Nirvana. A Tumblr ask is pasted above Nirvana and reads, "i think i'm in love with you, have a nice day" The response by Tumblr user 13fingers is pasted over Yoo Joonghyuk and reads, "You are nothing to me. I won't"
The eighth image shows a less realistic version of Kim Dokja rolling his eyes and a displeased look on his face. Text is pasted above him that reads, "(through gritted teeth) Great."
The ninth image shows Kim Dokja smiling toward the viewer with his eye closed and his arms crossed. The textpost is by Tumblr user firefox-official and reads, "that character is problematic" i am sick and twisted. next"
The last image shows Kim Dokja in the foreground with Yoo Joonghyuk behind him. The tail of the original speech bubble is pointed toward Kim Dokja, and the bubble reads, "Let's go." The text post is pasted between Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk. It's by Tumblr user aridante and reads, "get in loser we're living past the end of our myth". /End ID]
Image ID by @incorrect-web-novels who is an icon and a gem
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matryosika · 5 months
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Never Have I Ever
Pairing — Chan, Changbin x fem!reader Wordcount — 8,913 words Genre — 18+ Includes — Mentions of body insecurities and past romantic relationships. Struggles with sex and sexuality. Consumption of alcohol (but no sex under the influence). Explicit sexual content, smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — It's been a while since I've post something this lengthy... I have to be honest, I started writing this last year (July 2022) but I felt so unsatisfied with it that I never got to post it. I made some corrections, added some more details and now I'm ready to share it with you! Hope you like it. Please remember to leave a comment, reblog or ask if you liked this. And! This is the yearly reminder that I own a ko-fi. If you wish to support my work further, you can leave me a tip there! The link is on my pinned post. Thank you for reading me.
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Smut warnings — Use of pet names (baby and princess). Dirty talk, threesome activities, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration, first time anal, description of pain and crying during sex. Multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pulling out and facial.
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"Never have I ever..." Chan hummed, his right hand swirling the green bottle he had been drinking from for the past minutes, "had sex in a public place".
He looked at you and then at Changbin, his curious gaze wondering how he missed an opportunity to make either of you drink from your alcoholic beverage.
"I haven't had sex in a public place," Changbin mumbled, "but I have done other things".
"You have to drink either way," Chan insisted.
"You said sex," the black-haired complained, "next time try to be more specific".
You sat there in silence with a look of amusement as you witnessed the silly discussion your two best friends were holding.
"There will not be a next time," Chan sighed, leaving his bottle on top of the small coffee table next the shared couch, "at this rate, we are going to be wasted and she will remain sober".
You smiled with victory imprinted on your face, imitating Chan's action and leaving your beverage on top of the table, "we should've betted money on who was the most innocent one among the three of us, I could've ended the night with more bucks than the ones I have on my wallet".
"I can't believe you dated that asshole for 3 years and yet you didn't do anything with him," Changbin murmured with disbelief.
"Do you think I am lying?" You questioned him, tilting your head slightly backwards and resting it on the wall behind.
"I know for a fact you are not," Changbin replied, "that's why I’m impressed".
"Well," you took the bowl of chips that was placed between you and Chan, "sex isn't everything in a relationship."
"You say so because you haven't fucked," Chan scoffed, his characteristic dimples showing as soon as the sound of his laughter escaped his lips.
"We did fuck though".
"You say so because you haven't fucked properly," Changbin corrected his best friend's statement, the choice of words making your skin burn in embarrassment.
"Just because I am not into the kinky stuff you guys like doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the sex with him," you whined, throwing a cushion at Changbin, "plus, why are we making my sexual life a topic of conversation? that's something private".
"It's just amusing," Chan mumbled, taking a sip from the bottle, "you didn't drink from your soju the whole time".
"You guys asked such odd questions," you admitted, "threesomes, sex in public places... how was I supposed to drink when I have no interest in those sorts of things?"
"Alright, alright," Changbin interrupted, both of his arms doing signals for you and chan to be quiet, "we will start small".
You looked at Changbin and then at Chan, unsure of what the twisted game your dark-haired friend was thinking about. Nonetheless, your hand reached out for the bottle of soju and you returned back to your previous position, back against the wall and head tilted slightly backwards.
"Never have I ever given my partner oral sex," Changbin mumbled, both pairs of dark eyes fixed on you as they waited for your final answer.
Placing the tip of the bottle in between your lips, you made sure to drink just a small sip from it. Not being too fond of the taste of alcohol nor the feeling of being drunk, you tried your best to limit your consumption during the evening. Of course, playing this kind of game was rather easy for someone as inexperienced as you were.
"Never have I ever received oral sex," Chan continued the attack, expecting you to hold the bottle again and drink from it.
But, after a few seconds of awkward looks and odd grimaces, he understood that you were not going to take another sip of alcohol.
"Never have I ever tried anal sex," Changbin queried and, again, no response from you. "Well, that one was a bit obvious".
You darted him a killer gaze and he scoffed, looking absolutely unimpressed by your sexual inexperience.
"Never have I ever tried more than 2 different sexual positions with my partner," Chan questioned with a teasing smirk and, for the first time that night, you felt a bit shy at your lack of experience.
It was true that your sexual life wasn't the best, not even with your ex-boyfriend of 3 years, but you wouldn't dare to admit it out loud. For some reason, the thought of having to talk about how much he sucked at those things embarrassed you and, knowing your best friends, they wouldn't be able to forget such a confession.
"No wonder why you broke up with him," Changbin whispered, diverting your attention from Chan's image all the way to his. "Let me guess, missionary and doggy?"
You were not the type to get your cheeks blushed but still, the skin on your face was burning in shame.
"Never have I ever faked an orgasm with my partner," Chan added, capturing your whole attention once again.
You knew Chan and, if you were to take a wild guess, you would say that his countenance changed from amusement to concern. In his face, you could catch a glimpse of almost the same reaction he had when you told him all about your break up and how your boyfriend cheated on you several times before you found out. 
Even though his reaction was rather odd to you, you still took a sip of your bottle, "shit".
"This is way worse than I thought," Changbin sighed, stretching his body and placing both of his hands behind his neck.
"Just one more question and I will let this go," Chan hummed, trying to satisfy his curiosity without making you uncomfortable, "alright?"
You nodded with resignation, "shoot".
"Never have I ever had an orgasm with a partner," and, as soon as you heard those words, you couldn't help but fix your gaze at your shoelaces that were a hundred times more interesting than whatever was going on inside the tiny living room of your apartment.
"Damn," Changbin's harsh voice interrupted, breaking the awkward silence that was starting to fall down upon the three of you, "are you serious?"
"Why would I lie to you about these things?" you asked with a high-pitched voice, your mind bringing back the memories of the few times you got to spend with your ex.
To be completely honest with yourself, you couldn't deny how hideous the sex with him was. It was rushed, fast, boring. He was focused on his pleasure rather than yours, lasting for not more than 5 minutes and calling it a day. "I'm exhausted", "I came so hard", "I'm so sleepy" were just a few of the things he used to mumble right after overcoming his high and, as much as you loved him at the time, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed after each session. He made you feel like an object who was only meant to give him pleasure without receiving any and, for the longest time, you thought it was completely normal.
"You never talked to him about these things?" Changbin questioned you, making your heart sink at the realization that he was just as worried as Chan was about the whole situation.
"It is not a big deal guys," you tried to convince them, even when you knew that it was, in fact, a big deal, "luckily we are not together anymore so I can leave those boring experiences in the past".
"Still," Chan's words felt like he was scolding you, "you went down on him several times and he couldn't even do that for you".
"Yeah, well-" you sighed, standing up from your seat and stretching your whole body, "I will make sure to get a better and trustworthy fuck buddy next time, I have learned my lesson".
Chan and Changbin remained silent as you started to pick up the mess from the living room, gathering the empty bottles of soju and the wrappings of the snacks you had been eating that night.
"Why don't you help me clean up?" you queried, looking down on them while they spared complicit glances at each other, "the living room is a mess and I don't have plans on doing chores tomorrow morning".
"Hey," Changbin hummed, still sitting on the floor with both of his palms against the rug, "we uh-"
The way your dark-haired roommate stumbled upon his words made you curious about what he was going to say next.
"We would like to help you out with your other issue," Chan spitted, bluntly. Still sitting on the couch with his legs spread, he lifted up his gaze to meet yours.
"What other-" you started the sentence with a smile on your face but, as soon as you realized what they meant, the smile and fondness was transformed into nervousness and curiosity, "oh".
"Oh," Changbin repeated almost with the same intonation you did.
"Listen, you don't have to agree to this," Chan rushed to say, standing up from the couch almost as the same time his friend did from the floor, "me and Changbin, we have discussed this for a while now but we just- we never knew how to approach you about it".
You looked at the two men standing in front of you, suddenly feeling your knees and legs ten times weaker than before. For a while, how long is a while?
"When you say a while, what do you mean?" you asked him, slowly placing the empty bottles on top of the table again.
"We both thought you were attractive the first time you moved in with us," Changbin explained, clearing up his throat as he watched you take a seat on the couch again, now they were the ones looking down on you. "Of course, at the time you had a boyfriend and everything, it was never really a plan, just a thought".
"A thought?"
Changbin looked at Chan and then diverted his gaze to something else, trying hard to avoid giving more information than he needed to.
"One night we were just talking about how much we both liked you," Chan spoke slowly, trying to find just the right words to portray their twisted and perverted fantasies with you, "how much we wanted to be with you, like that"..
"And you have decided to tell me that right now because…"
"We just saw an opportunity to bring the topic and we took it," Changbin continued without even daring to make eye-contact with you, "we don't really lose anything by asking".
"A threesome, then?" you queried with your pair of eyes fixed on them. It was new how nervous they looked right then and there in front of you, clenching their jaws and avoiding eye contact at all costs.
Both of them nodded.
"I... will think about it," you concluded shyly, expecting them to say something else rather than nodding and continuing on picking up the trash that you had placed on top of the table after hearing such revelation.
Other than agreeing and whispering a series of "okay, yeah's", your roommates didn't say anything else. The tension in the environment changed but, at the same time, it didn't feel awkward or overwhelming. If you had to describe it, you would dare to say it was almost pensive.
"You have work tomorrow?" Chan asked, interrupting the silence that was quick to build up after your last words.
"No, I am taking this weekend off," you replied, carrying the green bottles all the way to your kitchen counter.
"I'll get those," Changbin mumbled, picking up the bottles that you had left behind because you could only carry that much.
You didn't want to give them the wrong impression, one where you felt awkwardly uncomfortable at their proposal to the point of not wanting to interact with them in any way, but it was almost impossible to talk when your mind was filled with thoughts.
"Everything alright?" Changbin queried, closing the trash bag and leaving it on the floor right next to the trash can.
"Yeah I just- I'm feeling very tired," you replied, blinking several times before fixing your gaze on him, "it has been a while since I drank".
Liar.
You drank less than half a bottle of soju and all three people in that room knew that. 
"You should go to sleep, " the black-haired murmured, not daring to look at you. "We will clean the rest of the living room and continue on working for a bit before going to bed, it's still early".
You unlocked your phone, without having any notion of time, and realized that he was right. You thought it was already midnight but the clock was barely at 10 p.m.
"Thanks," you politely replied, brushing your hands against your denim jeans and standing there for a while before excusing yourself, "goodnight".
As you walked from the kitchen and back to the living room, Changbin's gaze burned on your skin like a fresh cut. He wasn't nervous or uncomfortable, no. He was probably regretful, thinking that the two of them had screwed up an adorable friendship with their best friend just for the sake of wanting to get their dicks wet.
"Goodnight Chan," you mumbled while walking across the living room, Chan's eyes lifting up to meet yours without hesitation.
"Hey," he said, clearing his throat and turning his whole body around to face you, "me and Changbin, we wouldn't want things to get awkward".
"Me neither," you faintly smiled, trying to give him the reassurance he needed in order to understand that you weren't uncomfortable nor scared after their proposal. "I'm alright, don't worry too much about it".
And after he offered you a smile back, you closed your bedroom door right behind you.
Saying you were alright was a lie, especially when your whole body stopped being numb and regained its consciousness. The wetness between your thighs betrayed you once again, just like every other time you were around those two.
"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes and swallowing hard.
Only then, you started to mentally curse yourself. You knew how bad you wanted them, how many nights you spent touching yourself wishing it was one of them making you feel good. You, who even while being in a committed relationship, spent hours and hours daydreaming about any of them bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you until you couldn't do anything but take them completely.
I will think about it.
There was absolutely nothing to think about and you knew it. What was stopping you then? Trying to act all collected and insightful when, in reality, there was not a single day where you could go without pleasuring yourself to the thought of them.
What is stopping me?
You stood there in silence for a few more minutes until you heard their room's door closing, rushing to grab a towel and a pair of clean clothes before running into the shared bathroom of the apartment. It was safe to say that it had been a long day.
Letting the hot water run and taking every single article of clothing before stepping right into the shower, you asked the same question one more time: what is stopping me?
And, as your eyes found your reflection in the foggy mirror, you understood the answer.
You could dream about them as much as you would like, but the nervousness of being not one but with two new partners scared you to death. 
They proposed to you. 
The idea was appealing, but the anguish that it represented was too strong to be fought in such a small period of time. You trusted them with your life, you really did, but you also knew them more than anyone else in the whole world. You knew what kind of girls they dated and what kind of things they did. You were nowhere near those qualifications and the fact that they even brought that idea was as flattering as it was confusing. 
Either way, the mere thought of knowing they desired you like that made you wonder what kind of perverted ideas they thought about whenever they saw you around. What did they see in you that you failed to appreciate?
*
Standing in front of their bedroom's door, you breathed three times before finding the courage to knock on it. The clock would strike 12 a.m. and you knew for sure they were still awake. That excited you as much as it scared you.
The door opened before you could knock again, unsure if they had heard the first pair of faint knocks. Just as you had predicted, both of them were still working on some of their projects.
"Everything alright, princess?" Changbin queried, his dark eyes scanning your figure with discretion. 
Princess. Changbin called you like that sometimes for as long as you could remember and it never failed to have the desired effect on you.
Wearing a black oversized shirt with nothing underneath but a pair of pink panties, it struck you only then that maybe you had executed your idea wrong. In your mind, you completely missed the part of the small chat before telling them your verdict about the proposal.
"Can I come in?" you asked, his body walking just a few steps back as he opened the door for you.
Chan turned around on his chair, welcoming himself with the sight of your body.
"I thought about it," you murmured shyly, sitting on the edge of Chan's bed before daring to look at the hungry gazes of your best friends, "and I want it".
"Hey," Chan rushed to call out your name, his parted lips inhaling more air than usual, "don't feel pressured to do it, if you decide not to I promise things are still going to be the same".
"I mean it," you assured him, "I just- I have a condition".
The three of you looked at each other for a couple of seconds in silence.
"Go on," Chan spoke, his whole body leaning forward.
“You said you often thought about me in that way".
"We do, yeah," one of them voiced but the two of them nodded, eager to hear the rest of your demand.
"I-" for a short moment, your breath got caught up in your throat and you wondered if the sudden courage and bravery were sponsored by the cheap alcohol or your undeniable arousal, "I want to know what you think about me".
Changbin looked at Chan and then at you, his body language changing drastically from relaxed to tense in a matter of seconds.
"Is that what you really want?" He queried. His voice was as seductive as it was intimidating, his question seeming more like a warning than an invitation. 
You simply nodded.
"I know nothing about this," you murmured, the warmth on your skin spreading throughout your body as Chan's and Changbin's gaze fixed on your eyes, "and you two are the most trustworthy men I know".
"So you want us to teach you?" Chan asked with a soft scoff, the lowness of his voice taking you by surprise.
"I just want to understand what is so appealing about sex to other people," you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head, "I just want to know how much I have missed".
Chan couldn't help but smile with fondness at your words, the warmth in his chest mixing up with the warmth between his legs. It wasn't just the fact that you trusted them enough to give your body to the two of them —it was the knowledge that, now that you had accepted their plea, they had the opportunity to make you feel like no one before.
Changbin walked up to your figure, the mattress slightly sinking as he took a seat right next to you. Whether it was out of nervousness or pure excitement, you couldn't help but shudder once the fabric of his black shorts brushed against the naked skin of your thighs.
"Don't be afraid," he cooed, his right hand moving upwards to find the left side of your face and turning it towards him, "you trust us, right?”
Your eyes met the curvature of his lips and, while his face approached you softly, you melted into his hands. The way his breath was stupidly close to be felt and his hand burned deliciously against your skin had you letting out a soft sigh before making the desired contact with him.
And it felt just like you had imagined it. Even better, you would dare to say.
Alcohol, a pinch of cherries and faint cigarette smoke were how you would describe his taste. He was gentle, maybe more gentle than you had expected him to be. His tongue dragged across your lips without going any further, teasing you and almost making you beg for more. He wasn't running out of breath but you were, letting out small whines while you tugged at the neck of his black t-shirt.
Only then, he interrupted the kiss by sinking his teeth on your lower lip and softly pulling at them, earning a sweet hiss from you.
"Should I go next?" Chan softly joked as he stood up from his seat, walking towards the available space of bed right next to you and sliding his hand up your naked thigh. Your parted lips found him immediately, but he remained in his position without going in for a kiss. "But first, you have to promise us something."
"Anything," you whispered out of breath, both men smiling proudly at how eager you were to have your way with them. 
"If you don't feel comfortable with something, you have to tell us," Chan warned, his eyes glued to the way your lips were inviting him to devour them.
Easy task. You nodded almost automatically, knowing that the odds of wanting them to stop were minimum to zero.
"Contrary to that, if there's something that you want, you will have to beg for it", he cooed, a faint smirk appearing on the corner of his lips as he saw the nervousness in your face, "promise?"
You let out a jittery laugh, feeling your accelerated heartbeats in the deepest parts of your throat, "it's embarrassing".
"It is not," Changbin intervened, his breath caressing the crook of your neck and making your eyes close for a quick second, "we will do anything you ask us to”.
"What do you get from it?" you questioned softly, your mind dizzy from both confusion and arousal.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" Chan asked, tilting his head and brushing your lips with his, completely ignoring your question. 
"Yes," you whispered, your heartbeats going at a mile per hour. Chan smiled against your lips without going any further, trying to give you the clue that you were not following one of his rules, "please Chan, kiss me".
Only then you felt his hand wrapping around your wrist, guiding it towards his lap. He soon placed it on top of his hardened bulge without a warning, his hips moving ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. "Do you see what you can cause if you beg nicely for us?" his hoarse voice inquired and you nodded almost automatically, both of your eyes probably opened like plates at his grittiness, “good”. 
He then gave you what you were wishing for so long, his plump lips moving against yours at a much slower pace than you had expected from him. It was almost as if he wanted to taste every inch of your lips that were mixed with your own taste and Changbin's. 
Unexpectedly, Changbin's hand caressed the skin on your thighs making you tremble against their bodies, Chan's lips drowning one of many pathetic whines that were urging to leave your mouth. Changbin dragged his touch further, lifting the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and finding the pleasant surprise of your pink, laced panties.
"You wore this for us?" he asked against your ear, the sound of his voice and breathing sending shivers down your spine, "you should've thought about it twice because i'm going to rip it off of you”. 
Another chill traveled throughout your body and your skin got covered in goosebumps, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the black-haired one. "You get turned on by words easily," he hummed, nibbling at the skin of your neck, "I'll remember that".
Chan broke the kiss to grasp for some air, the eyes that once looked at you with fondness were now completely clouded by nothing but lust. 
Changbin continued on kissing and biting your neck, that only contributed to the wet patch between your legs becoming way noticeable as Chan's fingertips threatened to make contact with your underwear, the fear of being exposed making you dwell in embarrassment.
"Now, tell us," Chan requested while his fingers reached for the skin of your inner thighs, "why did you change your mind?"
"I-" you tried to give an answer but Changbin's lips attached to your neck and Chan's touch lingering in between your legs were making the simple task feel ten times harder, "I was curious".
"That’s it?" Changbin asked, dragging his tongue along your skin and making you squirm under him, "I know there's something you are not telling us, princess".
And he was right. 
But how were you supposed to tell them that, even long before knowing that they were sexually attracted to you, you fantasized about them every single night?
Even when you were in a relationship.
"I like you two too," you mumbled in between sighs, fearing that Chan's playful smirk meant that he knew exactly what was going on in your perverted mind, "I thought about you as well".
"And what is it that you thought?" Chan questioned, his digits making the desired contact against your clothed core making you part your legs ever so slightly for them, "you can tell us, we know how to keep secrets". Even though the sentence was rather sweet, the hidden meaning behind it increased the tension on your lower abdomen, "after all, we are your best friends, right?".
"I thought about how good you two could make me feel," you whispered, Changbin's figure withdrawing from your neck and fixing your gaze on the masterpieces he had created on it, your skin now decorated with red bruises along it, "I thought about your fingers, often".
Changbin let out a soft laugh, the tip of his digits dragging along your t-shirt and clothed breasts only to end up brushing his thumb against your mouth, "show me how much you have thought about them, then".
With a curious look, you wrapped your lips around his digits without breaking eye contact. You sucked on them slowly, unsure if that was the action he was expecting from you. But, when he let out a soft groan, you understood that you were on the right path.
"Is this what you dreamt about, princess?" he questioned, pushing his fingers deep inside you as you nodded eagerly.
While you were too focused on Changbin's task, you didn't notice how Chan was lifting up your t-shirt to expose more of your thighs and underwear, the wet patch now becoming completely visible for him. He gently caressed your lower abdomen and made its way to your clothed slit, dragging one finger in circular motions and earning a sudden sigh out of you that was repressed by Changbin's digits.
"What was that, baby?" Chan scoffed, impressed by how sensitive you were.
Changbin took his fingers out of your mouth as Chan slid your panties to the side, licking his lips at the sight of how wet you were.
For a moment, you felt shy. Exposed. 
You wanted to close your legs and tell them that you didn't think the whole thing through but Chan's voice was what took you out of those intrusive thoughts.
"You are beautiful," he hummed, his heavy breathing ringing into your ears, "so fucking pretty".
You swallowed hard at his compliments, the skin on your whole body heating up in shyness as you got used to your best friends praising you in that way. 
Changbin's digits turned your chin to face him, placing his index and middle fingers in front of your lips as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.
"Tell Chan how bad you need him to touch you," he ordered, his eyes fixed on the way your lips parted almost instinctively as he brushed them against your lips.
"Chan-" you tried to speak, but your breath got caught up in your throat too soon, "please-".
"Tell him exactly what you want," the dark-haired spoke again. 
Your gaze turned to Chan who was sitting on the opposite side as Changbin, his fingers swirling around the skin of your thighs without actually making contact where you needed him the most.
"Will you touch me, Chan?" you queried, the way your eyes looked at him sending a pinch of electricity to his already hardened erection, "please".
He smiled at your words and, almost immediately, followed your request. Your whole body trembled against them due to the unfamiliar feeling of having someone else other than you touching you like that.
"What else does our princess need?" Changbin cooed, forcing you to face him once again.
"Your fingers," you sighed, trying hard to maintain eye contact as Chan rubbed your clit painfully slowly, "can I please suck on them?".
It was the way you politely asked and not really begged that had them over the edge. It sounded filthier, more humiliating, they would say.
Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside your mouth and, as he pounded them deeper, a loud moan from you that was caught around his digits sent waves of pleasure throughout the whole body.
"Suck them properly," he commanded, admiring how your head acquired a pace of its own as you gag on them, "I’m fucking your pretty pussy with them".
Chan's digits kept on teasing your clit, your hips instinctively moving against them while you tried to intensify the feeling.
"Right there, princess," he cooed, smiling at how your body was more than ready to be fucked, "you are behaving so well".
Changbin's fingers went in deeper, making you gag and drool all over them. Judged by the way he was watching you, you would dare to say that he loved it. He loved how messy you looked, with your innocent gaze fixed on him and your chin completely covered with your own saliva.
"Baby," Chan hummed, leaving kisses on your shoulders and clavicles while he made your way to your ear, "do you think you are ready to take our fingers?"
Pulling away from Changbin's digits you nodded eagerly, the sinful scene of your teary eyes and drooling mouth was enough for the both of them to cum right then and there, completely in love by the ruined image of their beautiful best friend.
"I need them inside me," you whispered, "please fuck them inside me".
Changbin lost no time into guiding his hand all over your wet cunt, the digits that were previously fucking your mouth now grazing against your hole and threatening to force themselves into it.
"Are you always this wet when you think of us?" Chan queried, looking at how his bedsheets were now stained with your own juices.
"I am," you admitted, placing your head on his chest while he held you tight against him, "I am always so wet".
Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside you knowing that, with how wet you were and how good you had lubricated his fingers, the feeling was going to be everything but painful.
"Fuck-" you hissed, moving your hips unexpectedly and feeling that foreign tension on your lower back, "God-".
"Do you want to know a secret?" Chan asked, admiring your face of pure bliss as Changbin's fingers fucked your cunt and his palm rubbed against your swollen clit. You weakly nodded. "We often talked about you, me and him," he sighed, "we wondered how many times you had been walking around the apartment with your underwear drenched or how many times you had touched yourself in your room while we were sleeping".
"She is dripping wet," Changbin hummed, his lips approaching one of your ears, "I bet it would be so easy to just bend her over any surface of the apartment and put our cocks inside her pretty pussy, don't you think so?"
"Fuck yes," you whined, your vision getting clouded with each of Changbin's movements, “it would be so easy for you two to have me whenever you please".
"Only for us?" Chan scoffed, your words having the desired effect on him as his bulge grew harder and harder, "you are adorable".
Both of your hands traveled to their laps, your right one on Changbin's and your left one on Chan's. Shyly, you started palming them through their clothes, earning a faint laugh from Changbin who was still working on your cunt.
"Tell us what you want, princess," he cooed, "we might give you permission if you use your words." 
As soon as you were about to speak, Chan's digits replaced Changbin's palm and continued on rubbing your clit while the dark-haired fucked you at a rougher pace, the soft moans becoming louder and louder as the seconds passed by.
"Please, let me touch you," you whined, moving frantically against their hands, "I want to touch you too".
"Go on," he allowed, his voice becoming lower as your timid hands palmed him through the thin fabric of his shorts.
And without losing any more time, you snuck your hands under their clothes, being welcomed by the warmth of their skins as your hands wrapped around their lengths.
However, you were rather impressed by what you found underneath those clothes.
"Don't be scared," Chan murmured as he noticed your countenance, "we will make them fit”. 
You cursed again at his words, the tension on your lower back increasing as well as the frantic movements of your hands around them.
They couldn't help themselves but let out small grunts and sighs as you jerked them off, pulling down their clothes to give you even more access to their cocks.
Moving your hands up and down, the movements soon started to become sloppier and messier, your eyes started to roll to the back of your head and incoherent words and mumbles were escaping your lips as an unfamiliar feeling took control over you.
"You are clenching so fucking hard around me," Changbin groaned, increasing the pace of his digits, "does that feel good, princess?"
"Fuck yes," you sighed, the overwhelming feeling causing tears to prick into the corner of your eyes, "don't stop, don't stop, don't stop".
"You look so pretty like this," Chan praised, his hot breath tickling against your cheek, "all desperate and needy".
"Faster," you cried, moving your hips in circular motions against them, "please touch me faster".
And as good, compassionate best friends they were, the two of them followed your pleas. You knew that it wasn't going to take you long to reach your climax and, with all honesty, you could say that this was something you had never experienced before.
Maybe because of it you looked too desperate and eager in front of them, moving your hips frantically and trembling between their bodies as you reached your high.
The sight was something they would never forget, feeling the way your hand squeezed their cocks with roughnes as you cried and rode your orgasm. 
"Aren't you such a dirty princess?" Changbin groaned, still fucking you at the same pace just when you were reaching the highest point of your climax and forcing both of your legs open, "coming for the first time in no other than your best friend's bed".
"Oh, God," you cried, biting your lower lip while your body was still shaking.
"Don't close them just yet, baby" Chan mumbled, his digits collecting all of your juices while he held you in place, "don't you want to taste yourself?"
You whined at the faint overstimulation from Chan's digits dragging along your slit, getting completely coated by your arousal. They made their way to your lips and you were quick to clean them up completely, bopping your head and drooling all over them.
Soon, the weight on the bed from your right side shifted as Changbin's figure stood up from his seat. Lowering his shorts and underwear completely, his cock was now at full disposal to you.
And God, was he big.
"Come here," he demanded, signaling for you to kneel right in front of him, "show me what you've thought about me”. 
You had given blowjobs before, countless times, but your ex boyfriend was nowhere near to what you had in front of you. Your mind drifted away as it thought about his thick girth filling you up, making you cry both in pain and pleasure but, soon, those trails of thoughts were interrupted when Chan's figure came into the picture.
"We will be gentle," Chan hissed, placing his hand on the back of your head and guiding you all the way to his hardened length, 
Starting off with kitty licks, you dragged your tongue along the tip of Chan's cock. He let out a soft moan that only encouraged you to explore further, taking the head inside of your warm mouth as your hand reached out for Changbin's length.
"Jerk him off while I fuck your mouth, do you think you can do that?" you nodded against his cock, "if I get too rough, squeeze my thigh and I will stop".
You nodded once again, feeling how his hands pushed you deeper into his length. You were not really trained to take him, but you were determined to prove to them that you deserved to be fucked.
"All the way in," he hissed, hearing how you struggled to prevent yourself from gagging, "don't hold back, baby, let me hear you choking on my cock".
Relaxing your throat for a bit, you were able to take more of him. Squeezing Changbin's cock everytime Chan's length reached a deeper spot inside your mouth, he couldn't stop himself from letting out grunts and groans each time.
"My turn," Changbin hissed, one of his hands gripping your hair in a ponytail and guiding your face towards his length. With drool all over your chin, and letting out small coughs, you took Changbin's cock inside as if you were an expert on it. Now, your opposite hand reached out for Chan's length as you stroked himself with your own saliva.
"You are doing a great job," Changbin praised, closing his eyes and slamming his hips slowly against your mouth, "taking two cocks at the same time".
From then on, you started acquiring a pace of your own while sucking them off. Having one of their cocks inside of your mouth while stroking the other one, you spent all the time you were able to before your knees started to hurt and bruise due to the material of the rug.
And even then, you didn't want to stop.
The sound of their groans and moans were turning you on more than you would've thought, your available hand always rubbing against your clit as much as you could, driving you to the edge and tightening the now familiar knot on your lower abdomen.
"You have no idea how many times we fantasized about having you like this," Chan groaned, caressing your hair as he slammed his cock inside your mouth, "kneeling down in front of us with your mouth drooling and wanting to take our cocks completely". 
"She is so pretty," Changbin praised, biting his lower lip as he witnessed the scene of your teary eyes and ruined face alternating between his cock and Chan's, "I wonder how much prettier she will look with all of her holes filled".
A sudden moan escaped your lips as you heard those words. Of course you knew that having sex with more than one partner was a whole different world than what you were used to, but you never got to think about the implications of it.
"Is that what you want?" Chan questioned, his eyes fixed on the way Changbin's cock disappeared in your mouth, "do you want me to fuck your pussy while he fucks your ass?"
You would be lying if you said that the idea of doing so didn't turn you on.
"It is too soon to try anal," Changbin grunted, letting out a desperate sigh as soon as you withdrew from him to take Chan's cock, "she is not ready for it".
"You think so?" the brown-haired queried, burying himself inside your warm mouth, "I am sure she can take it".
Changbin gave him a worried look, but he wasn't going to deny the fact that he was dying to fuck you from behind. He knew how tight your cunt was from earlier, when he was fucking his fingers inside of you, and he could only imagine how much tighter your ass was.
Luckily for the both of you, he always kept a bottle of lube around for those kinds of rendezvous. 
Walking towards the small nightstand right next to his bed, he took out a black, small bottle that caught your whole attention as you awaited on your knees for him.
"I am going to ask you this once," he softly mumbled, caressing your hair and putting a strand of it behind your ear. "Do you really want to try this?"
You knew it was going to be painful but knowing it was them who were causing you pain only turned you even more.
"If you decide that you suddenly don't want it anymore, we will stop," Chan warned.
You stood up from the floor and walked towards the bed, removing your black t-shirt that was now ruined with drool, tears and even precum.
Chan laid down on his own bed with his hardened length inviting you to straddle over him, softly guiding your movements on the bed as he held your hand. You sat down on his lap and allowed him to continue with the task, one of his hands reaching down for the base of his cock to align it with your entrance.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked you with his jaw clenched, dragging the tip of his cock along your slit and earning a few sighs from the both of you. You simply nodded. "It's going to hurt, but I know you can take him".
You stared at Chan for what it felt like hours, and only regained consciousness of the place and position you were in once you felt the weight of the bed shifting as Changbin positioned himself right behind you, resting one of his hands on your hip while the other one held the bottle of lube.
"I think she is ready," Changbin announced and Chan lost no time in entering you, lifting his hips ever so slightly while burying the tip of his cock inside your tight cunt.
"Oh, Go-d," you breathed, leaning down on his figure while you placed both of your arms on each side of his head.
"Take me all the way in," Chan mumbled, pressing your figure down so that his cock could reach the deepest spots in you.
And even though you weren't a virgin, you had never felt such an overwhelming sentiment like this. He was bigger than what you were used to and he tried to do it delicately but awfully failed as he surrendered to his instincts, pounding himself inside you rather harshly for a beginner but just as pleasant. 
They both gave you a few minutes to get used to Chan's girth, squeezing it and clenching around it every time Changbin caressed your back and neck in an attempt to soothe you before the pain.
"She is so fucking tight around me," Chan hissed with gritted teeth, completely losing his mind over how wet and warm your pussy felt around him.
Just like he imagined it.
"How does it feel to have Chan stretching you open?" Changbin asks softly, placing a couple of wet pecks on your shoulders and neck while he lazily stroked himself with a fair amount of lube.
"It feels good," you admitted with shortness of breath, feeling dizzy on top of Chan. "I've never felt something like this before".
There was something so filthy about hearing you speak in such a manner that Changbin couldn't resist you anymore. You soon felt the palm of his hand on your lower back, pushing your body, forcing it to lean over Chan's and —once he caught the signal— wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly in place.
"Take a deep breath for me," Changbin ordered, getting even harder at the cold sensation of the lube as he poured more on him and your tightest hole. "We are going to count to three, yeah?"
Changbin always appeared to be someone tough but, it was at times like these, where you truly could appreciate such a soft side from him.
"One," he breathed and you felt Chan's arms tightening around you, his face buried on your neck and chest while he felt your body shuddering on top of his.
"Two," Changbin continued and your back unconsciously arched a bit more for him. "And three".
After the last number, you felt a numbing sensation throughout your body. Your toes curled up in pain and you tried hard to muffle the pathetic cries and whimpers but failed almost immediately.
"It hurts so much," you cried and Chan started to caress your back, feeling his heart pounding at a thousand miles per hour as he witnessed your vulnerable body on top of his.
"We know you can take us," Changbin hissed, softly pushing himself even deeper inside you. "All you have to do is get used to our cocks".
You whined and Chan hugged you even tighter, allowing you to cry over him as Changbin stretched your ass carefully. There was something so twisted about feeling your painful tears landing on his neck and chest that, for an unknown reason, riled him up even more.
"Don't move," Changbin ordered and you did as you were told, your hands gripping the bed sheets harshly while you tried your best to overcome the painful –but pleasant– feeling of having them both inside you. "I want to feel you".
Chan's hands traveled from your waist to your back, caressing it while trying to soothe the pain. You spent a good minute or two with your eyes closed, the only audible thing in the room were your cries and their heavy breathing.
"You think you are ready?" Chan asks you softly, leaving soft kisses on your breasts while still having his arms wrapped around your body.
"I think I am," you finally whispered after a few silent seconds, feeling your arms trembling in fear while still being able to hold your whole weight on top of Chan.
Changbin was the first one to move, slowly withdrawing himself from you only to thrust his cock again, making you cry in pain.
"You are doing such a good job," Chan praised, one of his hands reaching out to try the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "It's just a little bit of pain, I am sure you can take it".
Changbin continued training you, softly pushing his cock inside you while trying to get you used to his girth. The pain never really went away, but the sudden sentiment of pleasure was quick to appear in the equation and, with that, it was ten times more bearable.
"Go on," Changbin hissed, trying his best to control himself. "She can take you now".
Chan lifted his hips slightly and almost came when he saw your grimaces of pleasure and pain, his cock throbbing at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes getting completely lost.
"Am I hurting you?" Chan asked you and you weakly shook your head, unable to focus on him —or anything, for that matter— because of the overwhelming sensations.
And as soon as they were sure you were alright, they started to acquire a pace of their own. They were going slow, much more slower than they would prefer, but it was still pleasant nonetheless.
Chan's lips captured your hardened nipples and, if anything, that single action made everything way more enjoyable. The cries and whines were soon replaced with moans and whimpers, and the gentle movements lost their softness once they both felt you were ready for a bit more.
"I don't think I am going to last long," Chan admitted between sighs, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.
Changbin was on the same page, but they both wanted to give you one more orgasm before their own. One of his hands traveled to your swollen clit and, while they both fucked your holes, he tried to mantain a steady pace while rubbing it.
"Oh my f- God," you moaned, both of your eyes opening like plates once you felt your body jolting at Changbin's touch. "It feels-".
You couldn't describe it, but they both knew what you meant by the way your holes clenched around them.
"You are dripping wet," Changbin whispered, coating his digits with your fluids while trying his best to get you to the promising orgasm. "You think you can come one more time for us?"
You didn't have time to reply when your eyes were already rolling at the back of your head and your arms started to tremble, threatening to lose any strength that was still left in them.
"God," you whispered again, parting your lips and looking like a complete mess for the both of them. "There, right there-".
Changbin increased his pace and it was only a matter of seconds before Chan started to feel your walls tightening around him almost aggressively. He closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, trying his best not to come just yet.
He wasn't wearing a condom and coming inside was definitely not an option —but God, how he wished it was.
"Just like that," Changbin praised while admiring your body shaking instinctively, his hips slamming against yours softly while you were still trying to overcome your high.
"You are making me lose my mind," Chan whispered as he saw your face, feeling completely vulnerable at the sight of your glossy eyes and parted lips. "It isn't fair to have you around and not be able to do this as much as I want".
Your arms lost all their strength and you inevitably fell on top of Chan's body, crying as you felt the overstimulation washing up on you.
"I'm not going to last long either," Changbin hissed and, with a swift movement, pulled out of you. You whined at the sentiment of emptiness, but it was also a relief.
Chan lifted your hips too and followed his best friend's actions, leaving you completely empty and a sobbing mess.
"Where do you want us?" Chan asked, caressing your cheek and pushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"Wherever you both want to," you replied with shortness of breath and feeling a bit dizzy.
Of course they both wanted to finish inside you, but it was definitely not a good idea.
At least not tonight.
So Chan looked at Changbin and he did the same, almost as if they didn't need words to communicate with each other.
"Get on your knees," Changbin ordered and Chan smiled, recalling one of those times where they talked about how pretty you were and how much each fantasized about coming on your face.
She would look even prettier, Chan had said.
You followed their instructions and kneeled in front of Chan's bed, patiently waiting for them to approach your figure.
They both stood in front of you, stroking their cocks with their gazes fixed on your face. Changbin's hand even gripped your hair a bit harshly, setting you closer to them and in place so they could finish on your face.
"Stick your tongue out, baby," Chan panted, increasing the movement of his wrist on his cock.
You soon felt his arousal landing on your cheek, tongue and chin while a series of curses and groans left his lips. Changbin, once he saw the filthy image of you covered in his friend's semen, came next. With him, it was way more messier: tongue, chin, lips, cheek and forehead.
You swallowed their cum proudly, feeling as if it was some sort of reward for being able to take all the things they had chosen to give you that night. And they both admired the scene in awe, feeling their softening cocks twitching at the sight.
"You both taste good," you murmured, still kneeling in front of them. "I never thought I would like it".
Chan caressed your hair softly while Changbin's digits lifted your chin just so they could both catch a better glimpse of your face covered in cum —one of their biggest fantasies.
"Perhaps we should play the game again," Changbin mumbled, collecting some of their semen with his thumb only to push it inside your parted lips. "And see if your bottle of soju is still full after we are done". 
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slasher-male-wife · 11 months
Text
Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'
I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.
Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section
Doomhead
He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".
When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.
"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.
He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.
The Grabber
Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.
He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.
He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.
Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.
Mark Hoffman
You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.
When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."
He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.
He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.
Peter Strahm
You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.
He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.
Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.
He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.
Hannibal Lecter
You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.
You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."
He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.
The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.
Bo Sinclair
You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.
When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.
"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.
You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.
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