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#if anything jumps out at you and you really want to write it please feel free!!
cutielando · 3 days
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can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?
a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!
♡♡♡♡♡
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You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 
Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.
Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.
You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.
It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.
He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.
Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”
It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.
Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.
He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.
It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.
And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.
But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.
“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.
But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.
You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.
Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 
“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.
You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.
He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 
When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.
“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.
“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.
Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.
You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 
As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.
I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.
♡♡♡♡♡
Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.
He went to you.
He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 
Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.
“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.
He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 
Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.
Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.
Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.
The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.
“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.
“Yes, we should have”
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i-yap · 1 day
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Hello how are you? I love everything you write and I'm obsessed with Dick Grayson. You could write Dick being obsessed with his pretty girlfriend (we readers) I like these stories where he is obsessed in a way that is not crazy and violent. Usually when they write Yanderes it ends in violence, I don't want anything crazy or violent. Can't a man be obsessed with his girlfriend without ending up like that? please
Heyy im doing well, thank you for asking. I love "pretty girlfriend (we readers)" lmao yes we are pretty readers
Obsessed Dick Grayson x reader
Once dick realizes that what he has with you, what he feels for you and what you mean to him is so much more than his past relationships. Like those relationships don't even come in sight to what this is. He loses it a little.
All of a sudden his easy charms, flirtatious nature and playboy game is just gone and that too when he needs it most.
He gets flustered easy and its really weird for him aka Mr most desirable man in dc.
But don't worry , he learns how to work around those palpitations and blushing-by throwing himself into acts of service. Bringing you water without you even saying by realizing you've been swallowing more than average. Making you dinner which comes out of the oven the second you walk into your home by timing your "I've left work" message and the time on google maps ( or maybe just a tracker on you with your permission)
On the same note..HE IS SO OBSERVANT!! like how did you know that y/n wanted chocolate muffin when she likes trying different flavours every day? oh you analyzed her taste pattern and since she had a fruit in the morning, she will want chocolate? oh okay not weird at all dick
That cringey ginny scene from harry potter of her tying his shoelaces? Yea he sort of does those type of things really often. YOU CANT BLAME HIM OKAY ITS YOUR FAULT MAN HAS LOST ALL HIS RIZZ.
He gets so much more jealous. Like in his past relationships, the girlfriends were jealous not him. He was the one being hit on by everyone. People don't even hit on him as much cause rather than him making charming talk he is just standing behind you, head on your shoulder talking sweet to your ear. In fact it has happened on multiple occasions where he just didn't hear someone because he was busy looking at you in the dress you were wearing. also if you guys ever had a fight in the beginning of your relationship about you being insecure ...he will make sure there is a 4 foot stick between him and any other girl who tries touching him. Will jump onto a chandelier rather than let another girl touch him and risk your relationship . you tell him that its okay and you know he isn't reciprocating their feelings and that he doesn't have to jerk away while loudly saying "no no where's y/n WHERE IS MY Y/N" but he doesn't care nothing comes between him and his baby.
He drops stuff too, forgets whatever line he was about to say and um he has giggled when you complimented him once( but you guys don't talk about that anymore)
He just sort of learns to live with it since this just shows how much he loves you and well..there's no fixing it. And he'll find new ways to fluster you.
i hope this was somewhat you were looking for, have a good day!
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gentil-minou · 8 months
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Xiantober Day 12 - Falling
CQL | Modern | Reincarnation AU
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Yanli-jie recommended bungee jumping as a romantic and exciting date. It was supposed to be thrilling, give them an adrenaline rush they'd carry all the way home.
It wasn't supposed to go like this…
The bungee cord that was meant to be pulled taut by the force of gravity from his descent is loose and dangling in a U shape as their guides whisper among themselves
"Did you see him run? Wasn't his boyfriend all the way on the other side?"
"How did he even grab hold of him?"
"You talked to them earlier right? Weren't they both excited and ready? They seemed so into it…"
"Yeah…they definitely weren't crying like this…"
Their voices sound far, far away. A part of Wei Ying registers them, knows where he is. Knows who he is. But the other part…
He's a million miles away…no that's not quite right.
He's hundreds of years away, the empty and safe ravine he and Lan Zhan had driven to is gone, though he can't tell because he can't look down. But he can feel the burning heat as it sears through his clothes, turns his bones to ashes and rips him apart.
The standard issue helmet they gave him earlier might as well not be there at all. In fact, impossibly, he swears he can feel a scorching wind whipping his long hair around him, despite the fact he'd had a haircut just last month.
But he can't look away to check or take note of anything, because his eyes are glued to Lan Zhan's above him, where he's hanging over the edge of the cliff, is hand gripping Wei Ying's wrist tight enough it's like its like they're welded to each other.
And Lan Zhan is crying.
The tears pour uninhibited from his eyes, normally a honey brown but somehow tuned pure gold in the sunlight. His tears fall and fall, though he doesn't say anything. Jaw clenched tight and his arms trembling, he's like a man possessed. Or Wei Ying would think that way if it wasn't for the look of deep anguish that spills from him, shaking Wei Ying to his very core.
Even as Wei Ying is dangling above an abyss, all he can think about is his worry for Lan Zhan, for his zhiji.
The word pops into his head from no where, feeling right. Describes them perfectly.
A cloud passes overhead, revealing a dazzling sub that blinds him, making him squint, and suddenly his boyfriend's short hair is ten times longer, falling over his shoulder as he purses his lips. He's bleeding from his arm, wearing white instead of the jumpsuit their guide gave them.
But that's not right… something isn't right. Wei Ying feels like he's in two places at once. They both feel real, but how can that be possible?
Is he the grad student on a once in a life time trip with the love of his life, crossing off a bucket list item?
Or is he a pariah, letting go of the hatred and pain in his heart to find salvation, being held back by someone who knows him as well as he does, inside and out.
Why can't he figure out where he is? Who he is?
The words spill unbidden past his lips.
"Lan Zhan, let me go."
Lan Zhan's squeezes his grip, digging into his skin even as blood drips from his injured arm down into Wei Ying's palm. The sound of swords clashing mixes with concerned whispers of their workers trying to get near, except Lan Zhan won't let them, afraid to let anyone near.
"Lan Zhan…"
Lan Zhan purses his lips, the furrow between his brows deeper than any canyon. He shakes his head, once slowly, before more vigorously. Water leaks from his eyes to drop on Wei Ying’s cheek as he hangs there.
"Wei Ying, no…"
"Lan Zhan, you can't save me."
His mouth keeps opening of its own accord, as if the words Wei Ying says aren't even really his to begin with. Like they're following a script that's been written long ago.
But Lan Zhan doesn't listen. Even as the voice above keep shifting from battle cries to frenzied workers trying to keep everyone safe, Lan Zhan hold on his wrist remains firm
"Wei Ying will not fall again."
Something bursts inside Wei Ying's chest. He'd think it was his heart, except he can still hear it, drumming against his skull as tears fall from his eyes to drop into the endless chasm below.
He feels like he's been waiting a long time to hear those words.
His voice chokes between sobs, and he has to take a moment to speak with a clear voice. "Will Lan Zhan save me, this time?"
Lan Zhan must have gained purchase on the ledge somewhere else, anchoring himself to it, because his other arms comes around to grab Wei Ying near his elbow in a secure grip. He's gritting his teeth and trying to heft him up, a vein in his forehead giving away his exertion.
"I will save Wei Ying, every time." he says, a fire burning his eyes scorching anyone or anything that dares to disagree.
He drags him up, and Wei Ying just barely gets a glimpse of a pair of guides holding Lan Zhan's legs to keep him stable, muttering about needing new rules.
When his feet land on the ground, it feels solid beneath him in a way it never has before. Like he's finally reached clarity and peace for something that's been gnawing at him for generations.
The long hair is gone, and Lan Zhan's arm isn't bloody or injured. They're both wearing their jumpsuits as the breathe heavily, just sitting on that ledge watch each other.
Wei Ying remembers where he is again, the fog gone from his mind. But something feels...different. Something has been changed irreversibly, though he can't quite put his finger on what.
Their guides are trying to give them a lecture, but all of Wei Ying's attention is on Lan Zhan. Where the tears no longer fall but glisten in his eyes and his mouth curves up in the sweetest, happiest smile.
"Wei Ying. I saved you."
Wei Ying huffs a laugh. The joy in his heart doesn't feel like his…but at the same it feels like all ever had. Like it flows through his veins and lights up his center.
"Yeah, Lan Zhan. You did. You caught me."
He leans forward, presses a steady hand on Lan Zhan’s tear-stained cheek, and kisses him, letting the light and love he feels pour into him, their souls entwined and at peace.
(threadfic here)
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l-cereta · 9 months
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in a bad mood for multiple unrelated reasons :thumbsup:
#dooooooo i vent in the tags#yk what why shouldnt i#ok so. for one my executives have been dysfunctioning since monday and i think rn is the event horizon of 'oh my god if u dont work now'#and you know what ive been doing instead of working? watching a 24hr stream of armored core 6#so thats like. whatever#its the whole too depressed to do anything so you kinda vegetate which lowers ur energy even further and worsens your mood#but then a friend wanted to get my advice on like. relationship troubles hes having#and i just . was not able to connect at all. and it's like man sometimes im not even sure if i have emotions lmao#like i pride myself on Being In A Better Place Than I Was In Highschool#(like. im not considering jumping out the window every other morning)#but like. sometimes it feels like i just dont like#like other people have these rich experiences and deep loves and all this stuff and im never gonna get it#it'd be nice to be loved or be in a relationship but really like#my biggest fear is just. im in a relationship and something bad happens to my partner#and i realize i dont care#idk theres like a lot swirling in my brain#i just want to be like...#i think writing this out has actually made it worse lmao#god forbid if someones reading this please dont reach out to me abt it i do not want to talk abt it#no matter how much other people say they care abt me it never seems real anyways so like cool#god i was doing so well before going back to college and im stupid enough to actually fucking like school#i just like.#whatever#like being alive really hurts right now#i cant really put a bow on that
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snifflyjoonie · 1 year
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Alrighty - request up for grabs post #1!
Going through these I noticed a pattern of people feeling the need to apologize to me for requesting :( you guys totally don’t have to do that! I am never upset about a receiving a request, even if it’s one I’m not interested in writing. I appreciate all of the love I get!
Again I want to reiterate that if one of these “up for grabs” requests is yours, please don’t be offended! I’m looking to start fresh and some of these just aren’t my forté ❤️ stay tuned for a 2nd post!
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jamespotterismydaddy · 5 months
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Capture the Flag
luke castellan x reader
pt 2
A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood
TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke
word count: 1,699 words
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You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.
It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.
“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.
“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.
He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.
“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.
“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.
“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”
  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.
“Who’s the idiot now?” 
He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.
What the fuck.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.
He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 
“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 
You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.
“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 
That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.
“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.
“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.
You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.
“Let me up.” 
“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.
“You’re delusional.”
“You’re wet.”
He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.
“S-Stop.” You stutter out.
“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.
As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.
“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.
“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.
“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.
“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.
“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”
 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 
 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.
He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.
His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”
“I’ll kill you.” You promise.
“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”
He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.
“This is fucked up.” You say.
“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.
He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”
You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 
Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.
“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.
“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.
All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.
“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 
That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.
“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 
“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.
“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.
“Next time?” 
That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.
He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.
taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
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reilemon · 1 month
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₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊Cool Off₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
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♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader
。°⚠︎°。MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)。°⚠︎°。
♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?
♡︎ word count: 3.4k
♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?
♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this
banner by @cafekitsune
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You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -
meet up with your friend
shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets
doctor’s appointment
You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.
But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.
Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.
The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.
You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.
Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list
get some dessert for Zayne
And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.
☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊
“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.
It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.
You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.
“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.
Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.
“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”
You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.
With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.
Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...
“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.
Busted!
For like a hundredth time.
You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”
He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”
You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.
You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!
In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.
Zayne's voice fades into focus.
"Is everything okay?"
“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"
"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.
You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.
You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”
It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.
When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”
Right, the heat.
You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.
Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?
You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’
Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.
You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.
Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”
He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.
Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.
He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’
You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.
“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.
Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.
Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”
You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.
He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.
“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”
The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.
He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.
He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."
You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.
His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.
"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.
Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."
Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.
Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.
"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.
The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.
Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"
He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.
Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.
Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.
Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’
You shrug ‘Just pull out.’
‘That’s not very respo – ‘
‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.
He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.
Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.
‘Yes… I need you.’
With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.
His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.
'Zaynee-' you whine.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.
But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.
His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.
As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.
He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.
“Zayne - I'm close”
“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.
'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'
You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.
You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.
You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.
‘I’m gonna come soon –‘
You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’
His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.
His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.
His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.
After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”
You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”
“I can show you later.”
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dante-mightdie · 1 month
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Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺
There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺
It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.
beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp
c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless
he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price
it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are
and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family
you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either
he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements
he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down
your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude
it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up
goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,
"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections
“appreciating what was gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did
you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love
somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope
perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.
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rafeysdoll · 1 month
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https://www.tumblr.com/rafeysdoll/748215216138059776/bsf-rafe-convincing-reader-that-its-normal-to
i’m literally FERAL
could you please do one where rafe somehow convinces reader and he FINALLY gets to be inside of her🫶🫶🫶
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"rafey," you mewl, tugging at his polo as he laid on the couch, writing emails and conducting business. "im.. needy, want help." you whisper, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side. "what was that?" he taunts, shit eating grin displayed on his face as he dismisses his phone, tossing it aside as he gets up anyway.
you eagerly head back into his room, quickly jumping to his bed as you wait for him to lay, ready to hump him as if he was your very own toy to get rid of all your overwhelming desires.
but yet he remains the same, standing still with his tongue nudging at the side of his cheek as he sighs rather dramatically, hand now over his hip. "you know, baby.. i.. uh," he pauses, tactifully letting silence fill the room for you to worry, wanting you get yourself worked up.
"i just dont know how to say it," he continues, turning around so he can only give you a show of the back of him. “what is it?” you question, voice bordering a whimper. “did i do something wrong?”
rafe smiles menacingly, taking a deep breath. it was time for the last stone to be set.
“here, come stand next to me alright?” he requests, turning back around to offer his hand. you quickly listen, right besides him in seconds as he caresses your hand in his own. “baby, i don’t know if i can do this.” he states, brows meeting together in a tight line, leaning in slightly as if he was offended.
you take a shaky breath and gulp, a strong queasy feeling in your stomach. “w-why?” you reply, bottom lip put out. “you.. you don’t like it?” you frown.
“no, no i do. that’s the problem, im a man.. and, well uh.. it’s hard, you know baby? got all these feelings and i can’t even act on them. i mean, it can’t be fair.” he confesses, pretty blue eyes staring at your own.
“oh,” you realize, looking down at your connected hands. “well.. well that can change, can’t it? we can just.. you know.” you whisper, heat and desperation tingling through your body. you didn’t want any of this to end, you were willing to do anything before he had to be ripped away from your hands. “oh.. oh i dunno baby, that’s a big step.” rafe pretends to deny, his cock already twitching and throbbing. he was so close to what he had been working towards for so so long.
“no, no really rafe. i.. i mean now we can both.. enjoy it.” you carry on, nodding. “please? don’t wanna go to anyone else,” you plead, small tears collecting in your lower lash line. “you.. you sure?” he smiles, his own heart thumping profusely in his chest. “i’m sure, ray.”
the rest was a fast blur, your best friend’s thick length bullying himself inside you, crying at every single ministration he gave you, hoping this could never end.
it was the first night rafe finally got through to your tiny hole, writing and squirming under his touch as he mumbled sweet nothings besides your ear — telling you he had been waiting for so long.. that the wait was worth it to finally do this. it was perfect in both of your minds.. rafe finally getting his best friend on his cock and you simply thinking you were only making both you and him happy.
you were always rafe’s girl, even before you ever realized it.
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infohazardouz · 1 year
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DEMON WALLY DESIGNS! im still working out his design but here’s a general vibe hehehahe as well as some thought provoking sketches... HUUUGE infodump about the design & demon wally au below!
below i explain my choice of representing hindu designs as opposed to christian ones! if you want to skip to the relevant information pertaining to the actual au, jump to the big bold JUMP HERE paragraph!
alright, to address the elephant in the room: no, this isn’t the typical demon/devil design you may be used to! i was originally going to keep within the red-horned pointed tail kind of mythos that generally stems from christianity/christianity aligned concepts, but then i realized i honestly don’t know much about that stuff and don’t really feel qualified to handle it in a narrative. i also know that, especially within the welcome home fandom itself, a lot of people have religious trauma that generally tends to be from various branches of christianity, so i thought this would be an interesting solution: seeing as i know a fair amount about hinduism, wally’s design is inspired by concepts about demons in hindusim in general! that way, it’s easy to write and hopefully refreshing/non-triggering to the audience! also it’s fun!
JUMP HERE: Wally’s design in the demon AU is inspired by Asura in hindu mythology! That’s why he’s got like a billion hands- I’m looking at adding jewellery/a tail/other stuff, but it’ll fall in that general theme. in terms of lore relevancy: asura in hindusim were not strictly evil, which you will find reflected in my story. wally isn’t evil per say; the neighbourhood is his turf, and he will protect it from outside threats. that being said- he is generally self-serving for now and may not always have the best intentions for his fellow neighbours. what his overarching goal is and who exactly his enemy is (as well as Home’s relevancy to the story) is being left to you to discover as the comic goes on! themes of puppetry, where wally darling ends and the asura begins, and stuff like that is left ambiguous for now! puppetry will also play a role in the story, as well as self-awareness and meta themes. hinduism and religion WILL NOT play a role in the story itself. anything i think might need contextualizing will be contextualized in the description of every update; honestly im just pulling the asura elements for Wally’s design and part of his character! this will still be a very accessible comic to people of all backgrounds. if you have any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to send them to my askbox or leave them in the comments!
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roosterr · 9 months
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Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol
the 141 when you have amnesia – p2
note: i have received your therapy bills :)
wc: 5.2k
warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise
ao3
[part one]
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price
✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.
✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.
✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.
✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.
✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.
✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.
✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.
✹ the base is dull without you.
✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.
✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.
✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.
✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.
✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.
✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.
✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.
✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.
✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.
✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"
✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.
✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.
✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.
✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.
✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.
✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.
✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.
✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.
✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.
✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.
✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,
✹ "i remember you now."
✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.
✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.
✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.
✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.
✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."
✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"
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gaz
✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.
✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.
✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.
✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.
✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.
✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.
✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.
✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.
✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?
✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.
✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.
✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.
✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.
✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 
✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.
✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.
✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.
✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.
✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.
✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.
✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.
✹ "i'm not really paying attention."
✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.
✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."
✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"
✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.
✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.
✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.
✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"
✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"
✹ "just piss off, you prick!"
✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.
✹ "what's wrong? are you–"
✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.
✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.
✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.
✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,
✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"
✹ "you read my mind."
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soap
✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.
✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.
✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.
✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.
✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.
✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.
✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.
✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.
✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.
✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.
✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"
✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"
✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"
✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"
✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.
✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.
✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.
✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.
✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.
✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.
✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.
✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.
✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."
✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"
✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"
✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."
✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.
✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.
✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.
✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.
✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.
✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.
✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.
✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.
✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."
✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."
✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.
✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.
✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"
✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.
✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.
✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.
✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.
✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.
✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"
✹ "i'll never forget you again."
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ghost
✹ he avoids you like the plague.
✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.
✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.
✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.
✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.
✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.
✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.
✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.
✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"
✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.
✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"
✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.
✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."
✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.
✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.
✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.
✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.
✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.
✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.
✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.
✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.
✹ "i remember, si."
✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.
✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.
✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.
✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"
✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."
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7ndipity · 3 months
Text
Shy
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: +18 mdni, smut, swearing, unprotected sex(don’t do this pls), soft dom-ish Yoongi, brief mentions of insecurities, not proofread
A/N: Thanks @theuselessdaydreamingidiot for requesting this! I had so much writing this one, I hope you like it!
Masterlist
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He had to be doing this on purpose.
Normally, Yoongi could read you like a book, whether that was knowing whether you’d had a particularly rough day or just what food you were craving, all you had to do was look at him and he would know what you wanted.
Which was why his current lack of response to your attempts to gain his attention was so frustrating.
The two of you hadn’t been able to see each other all week due to your work schedules, and to say you were starting to go a little crazy was an understatement. As soon as you got to his place, all you had been able to think about was jumping his bones. Normally, you didn’t consider yourself a particularly horny person, but being without your boyfriend for any extended amount of time definitely tended to make you extra needy.
It didn’t help that your boyfriend in question somehow managed to look so fucking hot all. the. time. Even the simple sweatpants and white tee combo he was wearing was enough to make you clench your thighs together with need in your current state.
You’d tried your best to ignore it through dinner, but once the two of you had cozied up together on the couch to watch an episode of a drama, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of his body, his arm looped loosely around your waist, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and drawing you closer, tucking your face against his neck as the ache in your core grew stronger.
Fuck you wanted him so bad.
Usually, all you needed to do was just give a little hint that you were in the mood to Yoongi and he would take the lead for you, asking in a low voice if you wanted to make each other feel good, an offer that you always readily agreed to.
But tonight, nothing seemed to catch his attention.
You let your fingers dance over his skin, tracing little patterns over his arm, up his bicep to his shoulder and back again, trying to elicit a response from him, but all he’d done was tighten his other arm around your waist ever so slightly.
Deciding to try being a bit more direct, you shifted around in his hold, pressing teasing little kisses along the underside of his jaw, knowing it was one of his weak spots, hoping he would finally catch on to hint at what you wanted.
Yoongi hummed appreciatively, but his attention was still fully locked on the screen in front of you, relaxing further into the couch.
You drew back slowly, frowning in frustration as you studied his side profile.
Maybe he was just really interested in the show, maybe he wasn’t in the mood, you weren’t sure, but you felt too shy and awkward to ask outright.
Giving up, you slipped out from under his arm and stood up.
“Where’re you going?” He asked, finally looking up at you with a small frown.
“I’m tired, I think I’m just gonna go on to bed.” You lied.
“Are you sure?” He asked with a slight pout. “You want me to come with you?”
Yes please! “No, you stay and finish the show.” You pecked his cheek. “G’night, Baby.”
You quickly made your way down the hall to his room, not bothering with a light as you climbed into bed, curling onto your side away from the door, staring at the wall in frustration.
You don’t know why you hadn’t just said yes when he’d offered to come with you, maybe then he would’ve caught on if you’d tried again? Or maybe he was intentionally ignoring you as a way to tease you for your shyness with him.
You don’t know why you always felt so shy to initiate anything sexual with Yoongi, it wasn’t like your relationship was particularly new or anything, but everytime you even thought about saying the same things that Yoongi said to you, they sounded so awkward and unsexy, not at all like when he said them. When he said them, you felt your stomach drop in the best way, your knees turning to jelly as your heart rate picked up. In just a few words, he could completely turn you to putty in his hands, a skill you desperately wished you possessed at times like this. Instead you were laying in bed alone and irritated.
No more than five minutes had passed before you heard the bedroom door behind you open,
Yoongi’s footsteps padding softly across the carpeted room to the bed.
You heard him chuckle softly to himself before the mattress dipped under his weight, quietly sliding under the covers and shifting over till he was pressed against your back, draping an arm over your waist.
“Babe? Are you asleep?” He asked softly.
“ ‘m trying to.” You grumbled, brushing his arm off of you. “I thought you were watching your show?”
“I missed you too much.” He said, nuzzling his face in your hair. “It’s no fun without you.”
You didn’t respond, but he could sense you soured mood
“I’m sorry baby. Was I not giving enough attention earlier?” He wound his arm around your waist again, pulling you close as his lips trailed along your neck and shoulder, mirroring your actions from earlier.
You squirmed slightly against him, not wanting to cave so easily, but his wandering hands and warm breath against your skin flooded your core with arousal, your breath hitching and coming out unsteady.
“Let me make it up to you.” He murmured against your skin, his hand making its way under your shirt, fingers brushing over where your skin disappeared under the material of your sleep shorts.
Fuck, you were so weak for him.
“Please.” You breathed, arching closer to him.
You made a soft noise, something between a whimper and his name as he continued to leave a trail of kisses against the flushed skin of your neck as his fingers slipped under the waistband, creeping lower till they brushed your pubic bone, just shy of where you needed him.
You squirmed in his gentle hold, bordering on desperation now.
“Yoongi,” You pleaded. “Please.” You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your sanity could hold out against his teasing touches.
“I got you, baby,” He assured you softly, retracting his hand. “I’ll take care of you.”
He gently rolled you over, caressing your face before bringing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
You sighed in relief, looping your arms around his neck to keep him close as he shifted to hover over you, settling between your legs that fell open to accommodate him.
His grip on your waist tightened in surprise as your tongue delved into his mouth, swallowing down the sweet, almost inaudible groan that left him as your wet muscle tangled with his own.
God, you were addicted to the taste of him, light and sweet with a faint bitterness of the wine you’d drank at dinner.
His fingers dug into your thighs, dimpling the flesh as he ground his hips against yours, pressing his growing erection against your clothed core, your arousal soaking through the material of your shorts and making them stick to you slightly.
You don’t know when he removed his sweats, all you were aware of was his fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down as you lifted your hips to help him remove them, leaving you both bare from the waist down.
“My sweet baby.” He hummed, leaving another trail of wet kisses down your throat as he brushed two fingers through your slick folds, making you hiss as he teased your throbbing clit.
“Fuck Yoongi, please!” You begged. You had lost all patience, shamelessly bucking against his hand to any sort of relief, and in turn breaking any resistance he held.
As weak as you might have been for Yoongi, he was even more so for you, willing to give you anything you wanted and more. You could ask him for the moon and he would find a way to technically give it to you.
Removing his fingers, he shifted position to align the tip of his cock with your entrance. You were so wet and needy already, he slipped into you easily without any prep, sinking in all the way to the hilt in one go, making your eyes roll back in pleasure at finally being filled.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Angel.” He groaned, watching the way your hungry cunt swallowed him so eagerly. He pulled back, rolling his hips into yours slowly, letting you feel every inch and vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls.
“Fuck Yoongi, faster, please.” You practically mewled, clinging to his shoulders.
It was almost embarrassing, how reactive you were, how fast you fell apart for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, all you wanted was for Yoongi to fuck you properly.
The desperation in your voice sent a shot of electricity straight through Yoongi, making his cock twitch inside you as he immediately picked up the pace, plunging back into you quickly and setting a pace that had your toes curling.
His arms were braced against the mattress on either side of you, caging you in while your own hands clutched feebly at his back, nails scraping against his skin, leaving bright red lines and crescent marks in their wake.
Yoongi buried his face in your neck, groaning out with nearly every thrust, not bothering to try and muffle them as he knew they only spurred you further on as well, making you clench and spasm around him.
“F-fuck, Yoongi! I-I‘m close!” You managed to whine out,
“I know, baby, it’s okay.” Yoongi panted, kissing your neck. “Let go, I’ve got you.”
A few more thrusts of Yoongi’s hips were all that it took to tip you over the edge, a sharp ringing filling your ears as your high crashed over you, flooding your senses and causing your muscles to contract and spasm in bliss.
Yoongi followed almost immediately after you, spilling deep inside you with a broken groan, body going stiff over yours as he shuddered through the aftershocks.
He half collapsed on top of you, rolling to the side to avoid crushing you as you both lay there, chests heaving as you tried to catch your breath.
“Feel better?” He asked breathlessly.
“Yeah,” You replied weakly. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He grinned, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “Though, you know, if you wanted sex, you could just ask. You don’t have to keep teasing me till I say something.”
“So you were paying attention earlier!” You exclaimed, sitting up to look at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was waiting to see if you would say something first,” He said, sitting up as well. “But then you went off to sulk instead.”
“I wasn’t sulking.” You pouted.
“Yes you were.” He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “What I want to know though is why? Why won’t you ever initiate sex with me directly? You always kinda dance around it till I make the first move.” He looked down at you curiously.
“I don’t know.” You looked down, feeling your face heat up. “I guess I just feel kinda shy.”
Yoongi let out a short burst of laughter.
“Babe, you are one of the least shy people I’ve ever met!” He laughed. “I’ve seen you make friends in the middle of the grocery store after having a full blown debate with someone over the validity of skim milk!”
“That’s different! This is you and me, it’s feels embarrassing!” You buried your face in his chest, earning another chuckle from him. “What am I supposed to do, just jump you as soon as you walk in the door and say 'I need you in me or I’ll die'?”
“I mean, that would be really hot,” He smirked, earning a weak smack from you. “But seriously, you don’t need to feel embarrassed with me. Anytime you’re in the mood, just tell me. Hell, we could even make up a codeword if that makes you feel better.” He offered.
“What, like ‘Pineapple’?” You asked, incredulously.
“Sure, if that’s what you want. As of now, Pineapple means sex.” He announced, making you burst into a fit of laughter of your own.
“You’re insane!” You giggled.
“Only for you.” He said with a grin. “I mean it though, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about stuff like this.”
You nodded, letting you head rest back against his chest.
“Thank you.” You said. “For not making fun of me.”
“I would never.” He said seriously, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
You drifted off to the sound of Yoongi’s heartbeat, completely and utterly content.
You did, however, wake up the next morning to several containers of fresh pineapple in the refridgerator.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I think I’m hillarious.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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roosterforme · 9 days
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.
He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 
It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?
Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"
You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."
Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"
Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."
This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.
...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...
...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...
...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...
...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...
After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.
On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 
You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.
"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 
This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."
You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.
Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."
"No way!" Henry promised.
"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."
You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 
"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 
When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."
You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.
"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"
"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"
"Does this mean his deployment is over?"
"Why does he have flowers?"
He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."
His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."
He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"
"I think they're in love!"
"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"
Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."
"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.
"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."
You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"
"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.
"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 
"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."
You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.
"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.
You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.
When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.
"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.
"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"
He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"
You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.
"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.
"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"
He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."
Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.
Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."
"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."
You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."
"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."
You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"
"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."
He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.
Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley
When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."
You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."
With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.
----------------------------
He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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moonlight1110 · 4 months
Text
Crawling back to you
ex-boyfriend!Ghost x Reader ; (Late) Valentines Special ;)
Your ex-boyfriend who comes banging at your door in the middle of the night. He desperately wants you back, and when he invites himself in, is there really nothing else you can do?
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Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, nsfw, vaginal sex, rough sex (kinda idk), mating press, pathetic!Simon, far from canon simon, i write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not propfread, proofread anyway BC I hate typos
Notes: planned on writing something for valentines but uni fucked me sideways so im posting today <3
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"What the hell..." You jump as three hard knocks come from your door, almost as if the person on the other side was just a second away from breaking it down.
You didn't need to go through your mental library to know who it was, you knew exactly who was at your door at this ungodly hour because who else in their right mind would show up uninvited except him.
With a grunt, you roll off of bed and trudge to your front door. A heavy feeling pressing down on your chest as you got closer and closer to the door, you contemplated if opening it was even a good option, but knowing who was on the other side, choosing to ignore him was going to be a poor decision on your part.
With an tired sigh, you grabbed the door knob, squeezing it as doubts ran through your mind, but you are snapped out of it when he knocks, even harder than before.
"What are you doing?!" You ask, trying not to scream at him to avoid receiving another noise complaint from your overbearing neighbors when you opened the door slightly to peek out the small crack of it. Standing on the other side was someone you knew all too well.
"Let me in" his voice was low as he looked down at you, dark eyes staring at you from the opening of his balaclava. "Please..." He took a step forward, placing a hand on your door, but you stayed firm. "Simon, you can't just come here in the middle of the night and expect me to let you in" you argued, hardening the hand that was holding your door.
"I miss you, baby, come on..." He pushed the door slightly, you knew you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried your hardest to shut the door. With how strong and large Simon was, trying to fight back against him was next to impossible.
"Simon, please..." You looked at him, brows furrowing. However, even at your attempts to stand by your decision, there was a part of you that wanted him to just push your door open... An unexplainable feeling, you thought.
"Take me back... I'll do anything" He sounded desperate, his voice sounded unlike the person you thought you knew, he sounded hurt, vulnerable, not like the usual stone cold and stoic Ghost you knew.
"You broke up with me remember... You can't just go back on that when you want to" your expression hardened in contrast to his which softened as he looked into your eyes. He regretted it, deeply.
"I did, I know that but I didn't know I would be making the biggest mistake of my life, love..." He steps closer, pushing your door open just a bit again. "Don't call me that... Just don't" you shake your head in disapproval but that small part of you just misses the way he called you that, how it rolled off his tongue like honey, you missed it.
"Just let me in, let's talk... I miss you" the last part comes out as a mumbled plea as he pushes your door open finally, stepping inside like he never left. Those three words just made you want to jump over the boundaries you so desperately tried to build up, but all you could do was step aside and let him in, there was no point in fighting him.
"What's there left to talk about, Simon?" You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as Simon removed his shoes, it looked so familiar next to yours...
"I want you back, I can't fuckin' live without you..." His brows knit together as he looks down at you, reaching out but you step back with a disapproving look. "Then why did you end it in the first place if you were just gonna come back to me anyway..." Your hands fall to your sides with a defeated sigh leaving your lips.
"I told you, it was the distance, my work... I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice for the both f'us..." Ignoring your attempts at creating space between you, he steps closer, caging you between his arms as he leaned against the wall, effectively trapping you under him.
"I was wrong, baby... So fuckin' wrong..." he whispered, his eyes silently pleading for your to just listen. He leaned forward so close you could feel his hot breath even through the fabric of his balaclava.
"I didn't even want to leave you..." You started, your face scrunching as you remembered the events that happened the day he cut things off between the two of you. "You made up so many reasons, so many excuses... You put words in my mouth..." You looked away, feeling your chest tighten again at the recollection of your memories together. It hurt to bring up and remember but with seeing Simon standing in front of you again, it was impossible to push those thoughts away.
"I know, I know..." He took your chin inbetween his index and thumb, willing you to look back at him. His expression was one of guilt and desperation, that much was clear with the way he was looking at you.
"But I can't stand another day without you, been regretting that decision every fuckin' day, love..." He leans in, snaking a hand around your waist. You want to pull away, to push him off and tell him to fuck off from you forever but you don't, you just cant find it in you to push him away when all you wanted was to be with him.
"Those months away from you felt like an eternity, don't wanna feel that anymore..." He pulls you closer, holding you tightly against his chest with his nose now inhaling the scent of your hair from the crook of your neck.
"We can't... This is the type of shit that complicates things, Simon..." you place your hands on his chest as if you even wanna push him off you. "I don't care..." He groans and pulls his balaclava off, breathing against your neck. It makes you squirm the way his hands are travelling down now, you missed it more than you were willingly to openly admit to him anyway, but that's no issue for how your body is responding.
"Fuck if it means we'll get complicated, I need you back..." He kisses at your neck, still familiar with all the spots that just made you melt. "Can't be away from you for another fuckin' day, baby..." He groans, pinning you against the wall by your hips, grinding a knee to your clothed cunt.
"Just say the word and I'll leave..." He groans, giving your throat a good lick all the way to your collarbone as his hands found your ass, kneading like he owned it. "I'll leave and I'll never come back, I won't bother you... But y'need to tell me..." His lips drag along your shoulder as he pulls you closer on his thigh, "Tell me... Tell me y'never wanna see me again, push me away..." He mumbles against the side of your neck.
Your breath hitches in your throat with the way he was talking to you, you knew Simon was a man who was true to his word and once you'd tell him to leave, he would.
"C'mon..." he retracts from your neck and pulls back to look you in the eyes, his brows are furrowed and his eyes are blown out as his eyes flicker over your features like he's trying to memorize every single detail before you told him to leave.
"I..." you scramble to find the words, you wanna tell him to leave but you also want him to stay, you two didn't even end on that much of a bad note, it was a misunderstanding, a poor decision which was made in the heat of the moment...
"Don't leave..." You give in to your emotions, just seeing Simon again after your breakup hurt like hell, but god would you curse yourself if you allowed him to leave again... You couldn't take that, seeing him walk out again, leaving you for the second time.
"Fuck..." He groans as he connects your lips, his hands are pulling at you and pinning you against the wall. It's a passionate and desperate kiss from him, which you return with your own, full of want and the same desperation you craved would be quenched for such a long time. No one did it like him, no one ever loved you like Simon Riley ever did.
Your arms find his neck as your head tilts, allowing Simon to push his tongue past your lips. He doesn't let up, doesn't get up for air, he just fucking wants you, wants to take you right then and there with how much he misses you.
His hands cup your ass as he lifts you up against the all and you wrap your legs around his torso as he finally pulls away from the kiss. "I need you, baby... Fuckin' missed you too much..." he practically growled as he sucked on your neck, walking to your bedroom.
"Simon, calm down..." You mumbled as he set you down on the bed, you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating but that only made him chuckle. "Can't calm down when I have you in my arms again, love" He stared down at you as he leaned back up, removing his shirt quickly.
"Missed you so much..." He whispered against your ear when he dove back down, making space for himself between your legs as he hovered on top of you with his arms on either side of your head. "Missed the way you feel around me..." He hummed while his hands trailed down your waist, to your hips, then just above the hem of your flimsy sleeping shorts.
"Did y'think 'bout me too? hm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw as his hand travelled under your shorts, his middle finger now circling on your wet clit through your panties. You didn't notice how you ruined your underwear until you felt how slick and uncomfortable it was when Simon pressed harder against your clit.
"Yeah... I did..." you whispered breathily, back arching at the feeling of Simon's thick fingers pleasuring you. He smirks, taking the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck. "Mmm... Yeah?" He chuckles against your throat, parting your slick covered panties to the side to finally tease at your wet pussy.
"Fuck baby... She missed me didn't she?" he laughs, looking down at the way his hand moved from under your shorts. "Fuckin' pussy missed me too, huh?" He chuckles, as he pushes his thick finger inside you, making you gasp and grip at his arm.
"Simon!" you shut your eyes, back arching as he pressed gentle kisses against your throat. "Relax baby... need to prepare you again, been too long since I've fucked this pretty little pussy..." He coos, adding another finger to stretch you out, curling them so deliciously inside you.
"Fuck... I-" you whimper, sucking in a breath as he finds that spot inside you that just makes you break, he still knows of course, knows every single spot and every single way to make you crumble and submit to him. "I'm gonna cum, Si..." You whisper breathlessly, hands shaking around Simon's arm weakly.
Simon doesn't say anything except give you a cruel chuckle when he waits for the perfect time, just when you're about to cum to take his fingers out and it makes you shoot him a nasty glare. "Why did you do that?!" You whined, but your voice weakens at the sight of the hard bulge under his pants.
"Don't want you cummin' on anything but my cock tonight, love..." he chuckles dangerously, sitting on his knees to unbuckle his pants. He looks down at you with a hunger in his eyes, licking his lips as he finally rolls the zipper down. "C'mon, don't just stare" He smirks, snapping you out of your trance. "Right..." you blink, moving closer to him.
"Good..." he praises as he watches you tug his pants and boxers down together and tossing it down the side of the bed. "Fuck..." He hisses when he's finally free, his dick rock hard and heavy, twitching as beads of precum roll down from the tip. Your breathing quickens when you see it, it's bigger than you remember, thick and running with veins you wish you could memorize.
"On your back..." Simon commands, his voice low as he wraps a hand around his shaft to stroke his dick slowly. "But..." you look into his eyes but he shakes his head with a mean smirk when he looks at you. "As much as I wanna fuck that pretty mouth of yours, that's gonna have to wait another time" He chuckles, pushing you down on your back by your shoulder.
"I need t'fuck you, baby... Need t'feel you 'round my dick again..." he growls, watching the way your face is flushed and your legs are spread out on either side of his torso. He strokes his dick in his hands as he hums, using his free hand to slide your shorts and panties over your legs, throwing it with his pants.
"Fuckin' hell..." he groans when his eyes finally see your bare pussy, your clit twitching and your entrance clenching around nothing. It makes him fist his cock harder as he runs his free hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and rolling it down in little circles.
"Stop teasing..." you say through gritted teeth as one of your hands grip the sheets under you and the other pressed against Simon's chest. "M'not teasing" He chuckles, tapping his dick on your clit a few times. "Just shut up and fuck me already, Simon..." You whine, slapping his chest pathetically.
"Gettin' feisty now, eh?" he laughs lowly as a low satisfied rumble comes from deep in his throat when he grinds his cock against your pussy, letting it catch your slick. "Need to take it slow, love... I don't wanna hurt you" Simon groans, aligning his tip with your entrance.
"Oh... god-" you breathe out matched with a long moan from Simon as pushes the tip in. It makes a lewd, sort of wet sound when he enters you. It makes your head spin in the way it makes Simon throw his head back as he pushes deeper until he's completely inside you with a hard thrust.
He rolls his thumb over your clit, waiting for your breath to steady. "Doin' so good, baby... Taking me so well..." He coos, pressing on your clit as his eyes narrow on the sight of your body, all hot just for him. "M-move, Si..." You whimper out, closing your eyes tightly and adjusting to the feel of Simon inside you again after so long.
Simon hums while he rolled his hips, slowly thrusting his cock in and out. It's slow so he can let you adjust, help you remember how good he stretches you out that it makes you all dumb and pliable for him. "Mmm, yeah... Feels so good, love" he grunts, his hips moving just a tad bit faster.
He thrusts all the way to the hilt every single time, and it feels like he goes deeper and deeper with every thrust he gives you. He squeezes at your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he parts your legs even more, putting you in a mating press.
It makes you whimper the way you're starting to feel the slight pain of Simon's body pressed right into you. He's like an animal now, fucking you in such a primal way when he growls in your ear, encouraged by the delicious moans you give him and how you squirm and say his name in your breathy, fucked out voice.
"That's it, taking me like such a good fuckin' girl" He chuckles, driving his hips harder, the sound of his skin slapping against your cunt almost drives you crazy. He leans up, letting your legs rest as he massages them gently, a sharp juxtaposition from how hard he's fucking your weeping cunt.
"Needed this so bad, baby..." He groans, pulling your legs around his torso as he leans down to kiss at your neck. You can hear him mumbling sweet little nothings in your ear as his hands grip at your thighs and the soft skin of your waist.
"Tell me y'missed me... I wanna hear it" He mumbles against your neck, moaning lowly. He sounded so calm and so gentle yet the way his cock was filling you up and stretching you out so good was far from gentle. "Tell me y'missed this dick, baby, c'mon..." He hums, his hand travelling up to play with your tits.
"I-I mis-" You started, but the way Simon was fucking you so good made your head spin you couldn't even string a proper sentence together. He laughed, grazing his teeth over the skin of your shoulder, "Awe can't even speak anymore?" He teases, slowing his hips down and it makes you groan in disapproval.
"Why'd you slow down..." you whine, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. "Wanna hear you say you missed me first" He chuckled. It was bad enough that he slowed down, but it's even worse when he pulls out and looks down at you with a cruel smirk, stroking the cock that was supposed to be making you cum.
"Tell me how bad you missed me, baby, you can do it" He laughs lowly and he doesn't look away from you as he fists his cock to the look of pleasure on your face.
"I-I missed you Simon, so much-" you moaned out desperately as your pussy clenched on nothing. You were ready to beg for his cock again if he needed you to but you didn't have to worry for long when he turned you around, stuffing your pussy with his fat cock from behind.
"Good girl... Such a good fuckin' girl, aren't ya?" His words are so dirty it makes you tighten around him with a stifled moan as he fucks you fast and deep, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle he's pounding you in.
You can't respond and all you can even do is moan and take Simon's hard dick stuffing you over and over again. It doesn't take long for you to feel that tight knot forming in your stomach and Simon can feel it too from the way you're starting to tighten around him.
"Gonna cum, baby?" He asks you with a drawn out hum as he kneads your ass, watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.
You nod, moaning into your pillows as you clawed at the sheets. "Cum for me then... Cum on my dick..." He coos, pushing your hips down to give himself a better view of your ass. Your arms give out and you're practically being fucked into the bed.
Simon chuckles, taking your wrists and pulling them towards him suddenly. It makes you gasp when you feel the pressure building in your shoulders when Simon tightens his grip on your wrists.
"Si... M'close..." Your voice comes out choked out and broken, spiking up every time he bullies his cock harshly inside you and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"Don't need to tell me baby, just cum f'me..." He mutters breathlessly, now holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as the other lands a harsh slap to your ass, making you whimper.
You gasp as tears rolled down your cheeks from how overwhelmed you were. "Simon... Simon..." your voice shakes as you struggle against his grip on your wrists. "Do it baby, cum for me..." He hums, giving your ass a loving squeeze.
You dig your nails into the sheets when you finally feel that knot in your stomach unravel, you feel tingly all over as you cum on Simon's cock with a loud moan of his name. It makes you whine when he doesn't stop, chasing his orgasm now when he feels your pussy tighten around him so good.
"Fuck baby... That's it, that's it..." His groan turns into a drawn out moan as he throws his head back. With the way you were clenching down on him, it made him sloppy.
Simon was sounding whiny now while he chased his high. His hands were squeezing your hips as he held you down and fucked you harder into the bed. He was babbling now, about how good you felt and how you were such a good girl. All for him.
"Feel's so good, lovie... Let me cum inside, please?" He whined through gritted teeth, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "Please let me cum inside? Please, baby... Please..." He moans into your skin desperately, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
"Yes... Yes, inside..." You nod desperately, feeling overstimulated after just coming down from your high and now being used by Simon to chase his own climax.
"Oh fuck..." His voice shakes as he cums inside you, painting your walls white with his cum as he gives you a few more hard thrusts to make sure you take all of it.
"Thank you, love... Thank you" he whispers after some time had passed, giving your hips an appreciative squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you. You whined when he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless as you felt his hot cum drip from your pussy to your clit.
"So beautiful..." Simon whispers as he lays beside you, pulling you close to him in a warm hug with your back against his chest. He wraps his arms around his waist and means his head down on your shoulder to give you gentle kisses.
"I love you..." He whispered close to your ear as his hands caressed your body soothingly. You hummed in content as you relaxed in his arms and allowed yourself to move a bit closer.
"I love you too..." You say quietly, rubbing his arms which were wrapped around you. Simon hums and kisses your hair, lingering there to take in your scent. "I won't leave again... I promise" he mumbles against your hair, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly.
You nod, looking over your shoulder to give him a warm smile, you were too tired and spent to talk but you knew Simon would be able to know what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes.
He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips briefly. "And you know what's funny?" He laughed softly, raising a hand to caress your cheek, "It's Valentine's day" he looked over to the window and you followed his eyes.
The sun was starting to rise and it made you scoff that Simon really came back to you at the perfect timing.
"We're staying in, that's for sure" you laughed quietly, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as sleep slowly overtook you, but you didn't feel lonely anymore. Simon was back, and he knew he would never leave again.
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loaksky · 5 months
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I don't know if you've done this yet but can we have mean ellie is FWB with the reader but she's jealous when the reader is into someone else 👀
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i have not + you know what anon i could kiss your brain rn ! i definitely view this pairing as separate from this fwb!ellie x reader, but this could also technically fit in their early timeline since nothing else has really been established about them...
content warnings: language, ellie being an asshole (very on brand for me to write ig lmao), reader actually sticks up for herself in this one, but eventually folds (i would too for ellie ngl) 18+ content that includes; brief mentions of strap-on sex, fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving).
author’s note: i’ve been so unmotivated to write, but this request awoke something in me idk...also, if you’ve sent in a tlou request (yes even from june), i’m still cooking i promise! (and not in the way that ellie keeps promises in this fic lmfaoo).
main masterlist | tlou masterlist
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You didn’t want to say anything at first, couldn’t be too sure under the lowlights of the party with bass-y music that makes both the house and your chest throb with every beat, but you see it clear as day on the drive home and a passing streetpost illuminates the purpling flesh on Ellie’s carotid.
She nearly jumps out of her skin when your fingertips brush over the blooming bruise, obviously fresh and warm to the touch.
“What the fuck?” she huffs, pulling the drawstrings on her hoodie to scrunch to fabric around her neck.
“Who gave you that?” you ask softly, expression on your face enough to devastate, but Ellie’s always been different, an anomaly of sorts when it came to the matters of her stony heart.
“Why does it matter?” she scoffs.
“Ellie,” you sigh. “You know why it matters.”
She’s swinging a right at the intersection, nearing the residential you live in.
“It doesn’t,” she grunts. “Because at the end of the night, it’s you I’m fucking, isn’t it?”
And you don’t know why the way she puts it stings so much this time around when she frequently reminds you both directly and indirectly that while you may be her most recurrent hookup, you’re definitely not her only one, but it does. Does so much that you’re turning your face towards the window to hide the tears that are pooling.
Because all you wanted was Ellie. Wanted her in ways she wasn’t willing to give you. Wanted to learn and grow with her, but she wasn’t budging and lately, you’ve been feeling stupid.
When she turns into your neighborhood, you speak.
“Just drop me off, please.”
Ellie’s slowing down, palm finding purchase on your thigh.
“Babe, c’mon,” she practically whines, kneading the skin there. “Don’t be like that.”
You shift away from her, gather your purse from your feet as she continues through the different apartment buildings.
“Babe,” she calls again when you barely wait for her to stop and you’re pushing the car door open.
And maybe it’s childish, but you’re wounded and quite frankly done with the back and forth.
“She’s probably waiting for you,” you add petulantly.
“Babe, seriously. You’re being annoying,” she warns.
“And you’re being a dick,” you bite back. “First, you drag me out to a shitty party where I don’t know a single soul even though you promised we could just chill and smoke while watching that stupid fucking space exploration documentary, then when we get there, you’re leaving me with a bunch of sleazy assholes while you do god knows what with the same girl you’ve been telling me not to worry about for the last five weeks.”
And of things Ellie’s looks horrified at, it’s the fact that you’d been observant enough to recognize the girl she’d thought she whisked away before your prying eyes could catch on.
“I’m not fucking stupid, Ellie,” you say with resignation. “I tried to turn the other cheek because I really fucking like you, but you treat me like shit and I deserve better than that.”
Of course you don’t know it, but those fucking words bite. They’re an automatic trigger because unbeknownst to you, both of your friend groups think the same thing. Aren’t afraid to let her know otherwise. And she’s obviously well aware that, Christ, yes, you absolutely deserve better. Is actually really insecure on the low because she doesn’t know why you stick around with a piece of shit like her when you could have so much better.
So she does what she does best when she feels like a kicked puppy and lashes out.
“Of course Little Miss Princess deserves better,” she mocks. “What fucking ever. I don’t know why I flaked on a ten for such a stuck up bitch.”
And you see right through her, know that she’s all bark and no bite, but it hurts regardless, when you step off to the side and she’s leaning over the center console to shut the passenger side door herself.
She’s revving off without another word, and to add insult to injury, your phone’s pinging obnoxiously once you get out of your well-needed shower.
els <3 sent a video.
It’s the blonde from the party. Of course those dumb LEDs pulse red in the background, making Ellie and her flavor of the night look a thousand times more seductive. Ellie’s kissing her sloppily, whispering things against her mouth that you can’t quite pick out.
els <3 sent a video.
The next video’s grainy, but you can hear the tell-tale squelch, the girl’s shaky moans and Ellie egging her on. Your cheeks are on fire and you feel like you’re about to throw up.
els <3 sent a photo.
You wonder if the girl knows, that Ellie’s sending you the most compromising footage of her. If she knows how grimy the green-eyed girl truly is, sending someone else pictures of her stuffed hilt-deep with the same strap Ellie’d used on you.
els <3: still think u deserve better ?
You delete the thread and her phone number.
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Ellie expects you to crack first, you always do. Because even if she isn’t shit, she’s your biggest weakness and she knows it. Can say so with confidence, because maybe the same can be said about her.
She hasn’t fucked you in nearly two weeks and not a single body she touches can elicit the same feeling that you do. And in the back of her brain, she knows why, but Ellie’s prideful. Won’t dare admit it out loud.
So she cracks first. Texts you between classes.
me: i have a few joints + a coupon to tino’s if you’ll let me come over… :(
my #1 girl: Who’s this?
Ellie throws her head back and groans.
me: cmon baby, dont b like that. im srry i was mean, ill make it up to u
my #1 girl: I think you have the wrong number…
me: babe stopppp
Her text bubbles turn green after that message.
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You forget that Ellie has a copy of your key because she’s never used it in the five months that the two of you have been in this precarious situation, and your heart falls square to your ass when you emerge from the shower to find her setting up a box of pizza on your coffee table.
“Ellie, what in the fuck?”
She feigns nonchalance, pulls a few joints from her jacket pocket. But the aroma of weed or the grease of the pizza isn’t what makes you wrinkle your nose.
It’s the smell of flowers that waft from a pretty vase sitting on the cut away of the kitchen counter.
Your gaze fixes on the girl who settles on your couch.
“You need to leave,” you say stonily.
“But I just got here,” Ellie says. “And I brought you pizza…and flowers.”
“I’m sorry, did you think that a five dollar pizza and a bouquet of flowers from Saver’s was going to fix the fact that you’ve been so fucking awful to me for the past half year?”
Ellie shrinks.
“Well, no…but—”
“You practically sent me a homemade porno of you and some other girl you fucked to get back at me for setting a boundary, Ellie,” you say sharply. “What, did it not work out? Did you—”
“I’m trying to be the bigger person here,” Ellie sighs. “I am sorry. I just—”
“You what?”
“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Ellie snips. “God, you’re talking down to me like you’re a fucking therapist or my fucking mom and—”
You’re shaking your head, crossing the room and picking up the pizza from the coffee table to shove in her arms.
“I don’t have time for this,” you mutter. “Kenzie’s going to be here any minute now—”
“Who the fuck is Kenzie?” Ellie balks, caught like a deer in the headlights.
“Ellie, don’t,” you warn.
“Don’t what?” she practically seethes. “You think I’m just gonna be okay that you’re spending time with some other stupid bitch? Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you’re mine.”
And she shouldn’t have glanced down at your cleavage as you cross your arms over your chest, but Ellie’s weak and you look too fucking pretty for your own good.
“Yours?” you ask incredulously. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Yes, mine,” Ellie affirms. “All fucking mine and no one else’s.”
“God, you’re so full of shit, Ellie,” you scoff. “I’m supposed to be loyal to you and be okay with you having a roster, but I can’t go on a date with someone I genuinely like because it fucks with your brain to have a legitimate interest in somebody?”
“You like her?” Ellie asks in disbelief. “Like, like her, like her?”
“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.
And that makes Ellie’s jaw set, makes her narrow her eyes at you.
“You like her more than me?” she taunts.
And maybe she has you there, but you refuse to give her the upper hand.
“I could learn to,” you answer honestly. “Because Kenzie is kind to me. She doesn’t treat me like an option, doesn’t act like she’s God’s gift to the fucking world and that I should kiss her feet for giving me the time of day. And I get it, you don’t like me the way I like you—”
“You think I don’t like you?” Ellie asks like the thought is unfathomable.
“I don’t think, Ellie, I know. We went into this without any strings attached, we established that it’d just be fucking, but I was honest in telling you that I caught feelings and you used that to your advantage. You lied to me on multiple occasions, you make me look stupid, like I’m fucking crazy.”
And you wish you’d gotten through your spiel without choking up, but Ellie’s the first girl you’d liked in a while even if she was bad news. And when you thought that maybe you could shake her, she’d come barreling back.
“Baby,” she murmurs, face softening as she’s crossing the space between you two to cup your face in her hands.
“Don’t call me that,” you hiccup, trying to push her touch away.
“Babe, stop,” she says firmly. “I’m serious. You think I don’t like you?”
“Well, you don’t fucking act like it,” you mutter. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways because whatever this was is done. You’re free to do what you want, who you want, whether you like me or not.”
God, do you unwittingly light a fire under Ellie’s ass when she thinks of what this Kenzie girl could do to you if she lets you walk out the door. Absolutely loathes the thought of anyone else knowing what you look like in any state of indecency, that you fucking cry watching children’s movies, that you snore like a freight train if you’re tired enough and have a weird ass penchant for pickle chips when you’re high.
“You’re not going on that fucking date,” Ellie says with finality, palms sliding from your shoulders to skim down the length of your arms and situate over the swell of your hips.
“Who says?”
“Me,” she huffs. “Because I’m going to make it up to you and we’re going to smoke these blunts and eat this fucking pizza and I’m going to make you cum so fucking hard, you won’t even remember that you were thinking of leaving me for someone else.”
“You’re not my girlfriend, Ellie,” you reiterate. “You can’t just–”
“Maybe not then, and maybe not in this moment, but I will be,” she says, and the words catch you completely off guard.
She’s catching your bottom lip between hers to further disorient you, kissing you like this could very well be her last.
“Just give me some time,” she whispers, walking you back towards your bedroom. “I’ll get my shit together for you. Promise.”
And you know deep down that you shouldn’t believe her. She’s just feeling territorial and grasping at straws to keep you leashed, but Ellie’s always been such a good kisser and she’s devouring you like she really is sorry.
She’s tossing your against your unmade bed, caging you between lithe limbs as she leans back on her haunches to take you in. Your blouse rides up to reveal the flimsy bands of your lacy little thong and Ellie’s lacking decency as she flips your skirt up to reveal a growing patch of wetness.
“Were you planning on getting fucked or do you always go out like this?” Ellie ponders, fingers rough as she pulls the tiny scrap of fabric down your legs and nearly salivates when a string of your arousal leaves with it.
Your lips part to answer, but her thumb’s dipping between your folds, pad collecting some of your slick from your drooling slit to smear over your achey little bud.
“I asked you a question,” Ellie says gently. “You just gotta be honest with me, baby.”
“S’hot out,” you whimper, fingers closing around her wrist when your body jerks against a particularly delicious stroke of her thumb.
“Yeah?” she clarifies. “You wouldn’t let any else touch you, would you? Not when I take good care of you like this?”
Her other hand comes to toy with your entrance, doesn’t give you any warning before her middle and ring finger are sinking inside slowly.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine.
“You’re my girl, you hear me?” Ellie murmurs, leaning down to catch your clit between her lips. “You’ll be my number one, always.”
She’s teasing at first, tongue languid against your fluttering pussy, but you’re quiet, back of your wrist caught between your teeth to muffle your moans.
One of her hands reach up to yank it away.
“Say it,” she barks, pulling away from your needy heat.
“Ellie,” you whimper.
“Say it,” she repeats firmly.
“M’your girl,” you moan shakily, thighs quivering as she smoothes her palms over the underside of your thighs to push them up to your chest.
“Yeah, you are,” she whispers, spitting harshly on your heat. “My favorite fucking pussy.”
She’s eating you out like she’s missed you, like she’ll only be satisfied when you finally cum. And maybe it’s true.
Maybe not.
Especially when she draws nearly three orgasms from you and practically knocks you out.
You don’t know how long you doze off for, but when you finally wake up, the sun has almost completely set, bathing your room in a burnt orange glow that leaves your dewy skin warm and sticky. And perhaps it’s wishful thinking when you call Ellie’s name, met only with the echo of your raspy voice. After all, you’re tucked on the wrong side of bed, elusive girl nowhere to be found.
As you dress and search for your phone, you can’t even find it in yourself to be surprised.
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neng ©️2023
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Text
the things you do for love ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.
word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3
a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress
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”— no.”
the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.
but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.
”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”
”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”
”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”
”not happening.”
”but —”
”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”
and it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 
but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 
under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.
(his happiness is your priority, after all.)
but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.
he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.
”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”
a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 
he can’t be serious. 
you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.
— it’s so frilly. 
you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 
it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 
every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.
from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.
(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 
i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)
a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 
buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 
(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)
which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 
to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.
— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 
the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —
you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 
if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 
but no — he wanted you to wear it. 
and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.
”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”
”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.
”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 
sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.
the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.
a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 
”— because you love me?” 
satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.
and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 
valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”
”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 
(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)
”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”
satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 
until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.
”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.
”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.
and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 
but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.
satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.
and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 
”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 
attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 
it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 
”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”
”an hour? no way!” you scoff.
and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.
”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”
”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”
”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”
oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 
not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 
another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”
satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”
a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”
”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”
another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”
satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”
a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.
”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”
”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”
the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.
”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”
he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.
(even if you don’t.)
and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 
and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.
— a sigh. 
you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 
… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 
and if it’s just for a short while…
silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.
”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”
”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 
and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.
”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 
he looks so earnestly giddy.
eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.
(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)
”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.
”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.
a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…
”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.
”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 
”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”
satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.
you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”
”— i’m taking pictures.”
the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.
”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”
”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”
stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.
”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”
you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”
”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.
(what have you gotten yourself into?)
with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”
”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”
”yeah, yeah…”
the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.
(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)
and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 
it’s a perfect fit. 
a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.
after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 
and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.
it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 
and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 
still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.
(what the hell are you even doing?)
a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?
(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 
”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.
”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”
satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.
(all he can think of is you, you, you.)
curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.
you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.
when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.
 ”… i don’t want to.”
satoru pauses. 
he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.
”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”
you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”
a moment passes.
”… do i have to?”
the corners of his lips curl up.
ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”
a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.
until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.
it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.
(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)
there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 
and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.
after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”
— but satoru doesn’t answer. 
he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.
the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 
(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 
still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 
”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 
the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 
he’s completely stunned. 
no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 
and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.
crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.
”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 
upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.
— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.
it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.
god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.
crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 
even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.
and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 
yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.
he’s so cute.
(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)
so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.
and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.
”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”
satoru stiffens. 
(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)
slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 
with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 
satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.
a moment passes. then two.
then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.
”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”
a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 
a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.
all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.
evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 
”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 
squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 
a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”
”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.
”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”
a huff, lighthearted. 
suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.
your heart flutters. 
satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 
”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”
a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”
”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”
before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.
”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”
a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”
satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.
(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)
”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 
it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.
”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 
”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 
then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.
his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 
(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)
then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.
his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 
”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.
he’s so annoying. 
(but you’re far too in love to say no.)
so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.
satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.
when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.
”cutie.”
you blink. 
averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.
”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”
suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”
”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”
”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.
”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 
”and then we’re burning it.”
”noooo!” 
”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.
”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”
”that’s kinda the point, toru.”
”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”
he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.
”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”
a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”
”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”
”at lil’ old me? really?”
”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”
satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”
a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”
a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.
”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”
”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”
”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”
and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 
satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.
in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 
eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.
satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 
and yours, wholly and thoroughly.
(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…
what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)
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