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#and also like. he is often pushy i know
odysseys-blood · 2 months
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concerning the fact that devils in whb traditionally cant lie (or rather lying being something that had to be learned from an outside influence, like with leviathan an orias after being kidnapped and tortured in the heaven lab) i do like that its often shown that they still circumvent this however they can, ESPECIALLY beelzebub. it makes him seem very wishy-washy but in most of his conversations that veer towards the personal he just will not answer or will give a non answer. because it doesnt feel wrong to him like lying would. he can just refuse to speak. it honestly makes me want to know how much personal information we do know about him because its seeming like....not a lot at all.
on another note i wonder if its something that we've also seen mammon do. he seems the most open and truthful out of them all (all in reference to the kings anyways), and it doesnt seem like he ever worries about keeping his thoughts to himself but i wonder all the time if he evaded so hard on breaking his contract because of how it would affect his health. like he gave a straightforward answer about not needing to break his contract because his strength was overwhelming even with it, which is true he didnt lie about that! but i do think often that its possible that the contract has kept him more stable for the time he's been under it (looking at the conversation about the clone lab in tartaros that was shut down). if his life is constantly under threat by the fact that his body can't physically handle all of his power then it would make sense that he wouldn't give up his contract, especially when there are no other stable options available to him right now
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yeyinde · 12 days
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The 141 finding out you've never had sex.
Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.
body electric: the virgin edition
Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.
Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.
Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.
Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.
despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.
and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.
suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.
Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.
Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.
"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.
Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—
"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"
Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."
"n-no, i—"
"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."
the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.
Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."
your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight
until something pops.
"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.
when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.
it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.
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heliosundercover · 14 days
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Special customer
Redhood
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Special customer Redhood who gains the title by beating up some shady guys attempting to break into your bakery and apartment above it, and after the job was done, you begged him to stay around until you got a new security system installed. But even with it installed, he seems to be in the area. One night, you offered him a coffee, and now every night on patrol, he comes for his coffee.
 
Special customer Redhood, got a pretty sweet drink, not something a vigilante would drink. It was a black coffee with 5 pumps of caramel and a dash of cinnamon sugar. Something about the unlikely order was cute in a way.
 
Special customer Redhood, doesn't know that you have an alarm set, so you can wake up late enough to catch him and give him his coffee. One day he catches you, though. You come downstairs to check to see if he was there yet, and he sees you in pajamas, your hair up so you can sleep comfortably, 
 "Wait, were you sleeping?" He looks you up and down. 
"Nice pajamas" 
Only then does he look up the hours of the bakery, seeing that it closes at 10 p.m., whereas he's coming in between 1 a.m. and 3 a.m. That was when he first realized how considerate you were.
 
Special customer Redhood finally asks you about your day after two weeks of him coming in for a cup of coffee and a weirdly comfortable silence while he drinks and unwinds from his long patrol.
"How was your day... You look exhausted." He took a long pause, realizing he didn't know your name, but to his surprise, you laughed, and after that one small gesture, he knew he wanted to hear it again. 
You and him talked for a few hours until his headset pinged that there was something suspicious going on in the area he was supposed to be patrolling, but here he was flirting with a baker.
He never got your name.
 
 
Special customer Redhood, gets the same thing every time, so eventually you give his order a special name. His own secret menu item. special customer, Redhood, who asks
"Did you name this drink after me?" When you say 
"One red cup coming up." The name was Corny, and it slipped up before you could stop yourself, and now you cringed as you could hear the smirk in his heavily distorted voice. His question was immediately met with denial. 
 
Special customer Redhood enjoyed talking with you and learning about you. He also liked how you weren't pushy, not asking anything that could put his identity at risk. Here's a list of things he told you.
He liked classic literature.
He had never tried matcha before you made him try your new matcha white chocolate cookies. 
He loved animals and always wanted a big dog.
His favorite color was green, which was surprising considering his choice of name.
He never went to college. 
 
New customer Jason Todd, who made you raise an eyebrow when he ordered a "red cup," had a barely noticeable smirk like he was thinking of an inside joke.  Your eyebrow raised a bit more when a younger-looking guy asked
"Jason, why this bakery? It's not even a real coffee shop; they just happen to sell three types of coffee and a special lemonade. And its super put of the way."
His words were met with a flick to the back of his head by Jason.
"Because I like it here."
 
New-ish customer Jason, who came in mornings ordering the same thing every couple of days every so often, had a person or two with him. But while Jason wasn't consistent, but you like him any.
 
Special customer Redhood, who had been planning on asking you out as Jason for months. It was now winter, and the snow on the ground made him think of you. He knew winter was your favorite season, and it was the first snow of the season today. He knew it had to be today. 
 
Innocent bystanders Dick, Damian, and Tim watched their brother go mad over a baker. A mix of happiness and impending doom lingered amongst the group they had started taking bets on when he would finally ask her out a while ago. And so far, Alfred is the closest to winning. 
 
Regular customer Jason Todd, who had run into the bakery with flowers in hand right before closing, Slightly out of breath, he asked 
"Will you go out to dinner with me? Saturday night at 8 p.m.?"
"Sure." You smile happily, accepting his offer  and you watch as his eyes light up and he hands you the bouquet of flowers. 
 
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who is surprised when you, after a year of dating, reveal that you've been suspicious since day one, All because of a stupid drink with a corny name. 
 
Boyfriend Jason Todd, who can't help but tease you,.
 "So it was named after me?"
 
Boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancée Jason Todd, who proposes to you on the roof of your apartment and bakery the whole roof was decked out with a vine covered arch and fairy lights. 
"So, will you marry me?"
 
He gets on one knee, opening a gorgeous engagement ring with your favorite precious stone inside. It was your dream ring, and he was your dream guy, and of course you said yes.
 
Fiancée Jason Todd, who pulls you into a passionate kiss when he hears the words leave your lips, couldn't be more excited to spend the rest of his life with you.
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andypantsx3 · 4 months
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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters
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It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.
Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.
“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”
You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.
“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”
Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”
You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.
You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.
You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.
You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.
You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.
You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”
One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”
You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.
“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”
Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”
A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”
Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”
That wrung a smile out of you.
Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.
As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”
Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”
You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.
“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.
You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”
A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”
A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.
Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?
“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.
Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”
Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”
“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”
You hated her.
“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.
Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”
“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”
Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.
You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.
Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.
Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.
He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.
“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.
“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.
A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.
He looked like he’d smell delicious.
A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.
“Uh… good morning,” you managed.
The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.
“I hope you are well,” he murmured.
You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.
Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.
Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.
And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.
You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.
“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”
Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.
“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”
Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.
“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”
He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”
Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.
“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.
You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.
Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.
“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.
“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”
Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.
“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.
You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.
Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.
Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.
You found yourself smiling faintly.
“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”
Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”
Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”
Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”
Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.
“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.
Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.
Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.
That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.
“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.
He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.
You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.
When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.
But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.
After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.
Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.
“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.
Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.
A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”
“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”
His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.
“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”
Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”
You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”
That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”
A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”
“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.
You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”
Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”
You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.
As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.
But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.
But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.
The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.
“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.
You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.
Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.
When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.
“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”
You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”
Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.
“Shouto, really, I—-”
“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.
You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”
You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.
But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.
You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.
Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.
“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.
He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.
“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”
Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”
It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”
“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.
You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”
“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.
Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.
“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”
Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”
A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.
A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.
Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.
“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”
Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?
“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.
Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”
Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.
“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.
“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.
You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”
Shouto nodded seriously.
A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”
“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.
You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.
You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.
“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.
You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.
Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.
You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.
You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.
“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.
Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.
Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.
You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.
You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.
As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months
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Hi! I know you just wrote a cockwarming fic with Alastor, but I was just wondering if you would be able to do one with Lucifer? I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thank you!
absolutely i don’t mind doing the same shtick but with other characters! i took a similar approach kinkwise but obviously it’s still different, hope you enjoy <3
warnings: cockwarming, lucifer is kinda a sub but not entirely, exhibitionism, not caught this time, creampie, gn reader i think in terms of body, lucifer calls you birdy, kinky reader and kinky luci, also not proofread, swearing and some dirty talk lmk if i missed any!!
word count: 1.4K
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You sat on Lucifers lap, toying with his hair that peeked out of his hat. Lucifer insisted he had company to one of his all important long of hell meetings, however things went left when Mammon urged the king to come to one of his performances, that was definitely for the kings benefit and not just so Mammon could leech off his fame. So there you two sat, up in your own custom web which Lucifer was very much against but Mammon was pushy persuasive. So far things had been a bore, you sat on Lucifers lap paying more attention to the intricacies on his suit rather than the clowns on stage. Lucifer also seemed pretty bored, huffing and puffing occasionally, while muttering into your ear about how this was a scam or how he’d done this act a thousand times, needless to say you both be better off back at his home.
Eyeing up his bored face you casually traced your fingers along his jaw. “Hey Luce,” You whispered to him softly, his eyes casting down to you. “Wanna have a lil fun?” You grinned cheekily wiggling your hips against his, immediately he sucked in a breath, eyes closing. Lucifer wasn’t really good at hiding the need he had for you, often he would crumble under your hands, rarely he decided to be big and domineering, he much preferred when you had the power over him. Felt nice giving up power to someone after all the rest of his eternal life in hell there was no other choice but to stay in power.
“Whatever you want, birdy.” He cooed, eyes casted toward the stage acting as though he was indifferent to you. You unzipped the zipper on his white slacks, and reached your hand inside to palm his soft member. He wasn’t really insecure about being soft around you he was quite prideful in his body no matter the state, occasionally he’d feel not good enough but that typically had nothing to do with his looks, which you admit to being quite jealous of. You palmed him through his briefs, head rested on his shoulder you were annoyed at how the collar of his coat got in the way of his neck, prohibiting you from leaving pretty bruise marks on him. The king twitched, and coughed out fakely to cover the groans he wanted to make, he couldn’t help how sensitive he was when it came to you, it was like you had this spell on him.
Wiggling yourself closer to him you whispered to him, lips dragging sinfully across his ear. “What if somebody sees you like this Luci?” You purr mockingly, you knew he probably wouldn’t give a fuck, he’s been through too much as a king and a fallen angel to care about such things, nonetheless, hearing your scrutinizing tone furthered his arousal. He wasn’t, however, proud of the noise he made when your hand came up to tug at his hair at the base of his neck. “Ohhh golly,” Lucifer groaned beginning in a moan, he quickly fixed his mouth to act as though he was reacting to the show. “You want them to see us, don’t you?” You urged, feeling him grown and stiffen beneath you, it made your thighs clench with need, and suddenly you were onto more devious ideas. Lifting your garments, you pulled your underwear to the side as discreetly as you could. Lucifers eyes fixed on you, brown raised in confusion. “Cmon, let’s relax hm?” You asked, pulling his semi from the restraints of his briefs, pecking his lips as you did so. His eyes closed immediately, mouth chasing your lips as you pulled away, and who were you to deny such a good boy?
Leaning back in you hummed into him, his lips warm and soft, you could feel his lashes flutter against your face as your faces tilted, allowing eachother better access. You sneakily slipped onto him, wincing at the pain that you felt, however Lucifers arms came around to your thighs, helping you slow your pace. You felt every inch of him against your walls, it was hard to not whimper at the feeling of him slotted in you.
As your tongues sloppily danced together, the clown music played in the background, Glitz and Glam came up to perform, and the crowd cheered on. Beside your web was the greed king himself Mammon, who was too observed in the show to notice the fact you and Lucifer were swallowing each other whole. While the two of you sloppily kissed, saliva smearing across each others lips, your body naturally relaxed into his effectively sinking yourself down and bottoming out on his full erect cock.
Sighing against him in revelled in the feeling of him fully inside you, while also enjoying the way he trembled beneath you, not feeling the need to hide any of his desire from you. You pulled away abruptly leaving Lucifer whining, and starry eyed. Jerking up into you Lucifer smiled smuggly at the way you gasped, air entirely escaping your lungs. “How mean Luci,” You chide playfully lovelingly cupping his cheek. Leaning into your warmth the devil melted against your touch practically purring at you. “What can i say birdy, i’m eager to hear you. My favourite sound.” You could tell by the dreamy way he spoke he was already fucked out, and you’ve not even fucked yet.
Pecking his cheek you swatted his chest when he tried once again to grind into you. “No moving, whoever cums first has to call and talk on the phone while the other fucks em silly.” You grin wildly gripping his shoulders, you loved a good frisky game of fun, especially with Lucifer, you found it easy to participate in these types of games. Groaning lowly the devil rolled his neck, hands wrapping around your waist tightly. “Alright, but i'm totally gonna win.” Lucifer stated confidently, his red eyes flipping between you and the show. Glitz and Glam gone, there was some unnamed clown you’d never seen now entertaining the crowd, they seemed to like him.
You wiggled your hips subtly, trying to turn your body around a bit more toward the stage. Part of you wanted the distraction, part of you wanted to tease, either way it was purposeful. “Ohhohoo- you are- really playing dirty,” The king stressed, his tone jumping around anxiously as his claws tug into your thighs, undoubtedly drawing some blood. You hummed out an ‘mhm’ swirling hips round in a manner that could appear as innocent shifting to the outside eye looked casual. Lucifer moaned, curling into the back of your shoulder to bite down. You could feel him twitching almost like a throb, you weren’t helping with your involuntary contractions around his cock. “Alright sweetie calm down!” The king urged his voice breathy and panicked as he tried to stall your movements by clenching his arms around you. Unfortunately all that did was drag you nearer, feeling the entire length of him inside you grazing the delicate areas that made you tick.
You choked on your spit surprised by the abrupt sensation, your back arching away from him as you attempted to gain a little friction. “Lucifer please don’t,” You whined clutching his forarms that were flexed tightly around your torso. You could feel him nuzzling into your back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, then suddenly without any word, he was cumming. He moaned into your shoulder blades, bucking what he could up into you, rocking both your bodies, anything to get you to milk him. He continued to wiggle around recklessly, you clenched and whimpered at the feeling of him filling you, he always had so much in him. Finally after a moment his movement ceased, and like the devil he is, he snaked his hands around to play with you. You moaned as he whispered dirty things in your ear, “Who’s all needy now huh?,” “Cmon i need you raining off this web before we go,” things like that as he brought you to your orgasm.
You saw stars as you came, his dick still snuggly inside you as you clenched and came undone around him, head thrown back in bliss. After a moment of catching your breath you peered around, humility coming back into you, you spun around speedily, burying your face in Lucifers neck, who looked just as fucked out as you were. “Guess we gotta do this again over the phone?” Lucifer asked breathlessly, you huffed out a laugh at that. “Yep, loser.” You teased already thinking up all the naughty things you could put him through while he’s on call.
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milla-frenchy · 9 days
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Morning waves
3k7 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Frankie Morales | ao3
Summary: you meet two men who are on a road trip. You like the same things: the ocean, surfing, dancing and having fun
Warnings: 18+ mdni. threesome MFM, praise kink, fingering, public sex, oral (m/f), piv, dp, anal play, rimming, anal, spit as lube, creampies
No age specified
a/n: this is a contribution to Jamie’s ocean challenge @mermaidgirl30 thank you for this great idea 👌🙏
I've wanted to write Frankie for a while, and even more so after reading “Down the hall” @frannyzooey 😍😍 and this challenge was perfect to introduce him as my new Pedro boy. 
Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏
@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing, for the ideas, and for holding my hand with this one, as always 💕 🫶
Masterlist
*********
The first rays of sunshine were already warming you through the windows of your car. You were driving towards the ocean, ready to enjoy its waves. Every morning, very early, you were going to your favorite surf spot. This morning like the others, a few other surfers were also present. Between each set, you were all waiting on your boards, straddling them, letting yourself be carried away by their calm movement.
“You’re impressive”, you heard behind you.
You turned around, and met the most beautiful, sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen.
“Frankie, another set is coming.” You didn't look at the man who had spoken, immediately turning your gaze towards the horizon and new waves that were forming. You surfed that set and a few more. 
When you were returning to the beach, you saw the man called Frankie taking off his wetsuit. The man next to him was doing the same. They smiled at you, when you approached them.
“Hi! I’m Joel, and this is Frankie.”
“Hi, guys!”
“Nice waves!” Frankie’s smile was really sweet. And cute.
“Yeah! Where are you from? I’ve never seen you before. And with that drawl…Texas, I guess?”
Joel laughed and replied “yeah, Austin. We’re on a road trip. Coming from northern California, heading to the south. Are you from here?”
“Yeah, I live here. I’m on holidays, enjoying the ocean.”
“That’s great! Seems like heaven here. Do you know any cool bars? We’ve just arrived, and we’re gonna stay for some time in this place,” Frankie asked. 
“Yeah, there’s ‘The lagoon’. I'm gonna be there around 6 p.m., if you wanna join me?
“Sure! We’ll see you there.”
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You spent the evening with them at the bar. Frankie and Joel had been friends for a long time, they told you about their trip, their lives in Texas. Joel worked as a contractor and Frankie was an ex-military, doing jobs with Joel from time to time. They were nice, cool, and made you laugh a lot. They were not flirty nor pushy, and you felt good and safe in their company.
Joel had a certain self-confidence, and was more direct than Frankie. His brown hair was shorter. His smile was devastating. Every evening, when the three of you met again, he wore jeans and a blue or black T-shirt which accentuated his torso and biceps.
Frankie was a little shyer. His slightly longer hair called for your fingers with its brown curls. His eyes and smile were incredibly soft. He often wore lighter pants, gray or brown t-shirts. A cap that he only took off to surf. Both men were beautiful.
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You spent the next evenings with them, dancing and drinking shots at The lagoon. Every day you looked forward to seeing them at the beach, then at the bar. They were doing pretty well at surfing, asking for some advice from time to time, and making great progress. 
One night, the three of you were on the beach, hoping to catch some Northern Lights. And you weren't disappointed. The sky was colored with pink, purple and blue lights, while you were lying next to each other on the sand, a little closer than usual. And when Frankie kissed your forehead and Joel your cheek as you were lying on the blanket between them, you felt heat in your core. You saw them differently for the first time.
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The Lagoon was crowded. You sat on a stool at the counter, sipping your cocktail until you saw Joel enter the bar. He smiled at you and you wondered how many hearts he had broken. He was so hot. He joined you, hugged you and said “hey, sweetheart” with his Texan drawl.
“Isn’t Frankie here?” you asked him.
“He should be soon. He went to get a tattoo.”
“What, now?”
“Yeah”, he laughed.
You two danced, his hands settled on your hips. Slightly more intimate than usual. He smelled good. He smelled like the sun and the beach. He ran his hand over your back, which your summer dress barely covered. And when your eyes met, something was different.
You walked back to the counter, and he was smiling as he was drinking his beer. His eyes were fixed on you.
“What?” You asked him, smiling too.
“You’re damn pretty, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widened slightly, hearing him. It was the first time he told you something like that. So directly. Even though last night, on the beach, the atmosphere was different between the three of you. Even though two minutes ago, when you were dancing, you felt the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and your hair stood up from the desire for him.
He waited for a few seconds, checking on your reaction. Took another sip. When he saw you smile at him again, he leaned towards you, his nose brushing against your cheek, his hand resting on your waist. You felt goosebumps again. Some electricity between you. And you saw in his eyes that he was feeling the same thing.
“Wanna have some fun tonight?”
You felt heat reach your cheeks but you nodded and murmured, “yeah.”
“Yeah?”
He got up, stood between your knees while you were still sitting on the stool, and leaned forward to kiss you. You felt your heart rate speed up. He placed his hands on your bare thighs and caressed them, slightly pushing the fabric up, as you ran your fingers over his biceps. Then he slipped one hand between your legs. Slowly. Stroking your inner thigh. You whimpered when his fingers brushed against your pussy through your panties.
“You want more, darlin’?”
“Yes, Joel...”
“You gonna let me finger you in here?” he asked, his cheek against yours. His soft beard against your skin.
“Yeah…”
He slid your panties to the side, and his fingers brushed against your folds, making you moan into his neck. He looked up and said, “hey, Frankie.”
You felt shy and tightened your thighs against his legs. He kissed your cheek then said in your ear, on the side where Frankie was standing to make sure he would hear “I’m sure he’d love to touch you too,” before looking back at you. His fingers were still brushing against your delicate skin, and you really wanted to feel him more. To calm the fire, burning you from the inside.
You looked at him, then turned your head towards Frankie. His stare was still soft, but not only. You saw the desire for you in his eyes. 
“Do it Frankie”, you told him. At that moment you didn't care about anything else anymore. The crowded bar. The people who could see you, and wonder what the three of you were doing. Or knowing too well what you were doing.
“Are you wet, baby?” Frankie asked.
You nodded and whined, the second Joel pushed a finger in your core.
“She’s soaked”, Joel said, nuzzling your neck, and you bit your lip. 
“Damn, baby,” Frankie moved closer, the two men now standing in front of you. When one of Frankie's fingers joined Joel's in your pussy, your fists clenched their shirts. One of them stroked your clit with his thumb, but you didn’t know who. It turned you on even more. Their fingers slid into your wetness, pumping your pussy at the same rhythm, and you tried to hold back your moans even if it was getting more and more difficult.
“You're gonna come for us?” You shook your head “I…I can’t. Not here. Too many people.”
“Forget about them. Soak our fingers, baby. And then we’ll have some time together in our van if you want.”
“Yeah…Yes. Fuck.” You felt their eyes fixed on you. They were close to you, so close, protecting you from the eyes of others. Your pussy tightened around their fingers and you were trembling more and more. You felt another thumb near your clit that soon replaced the other one, and whimpered. Your pussy was trickling, and they could have pushed more fingers in easily.
“Come for us, sweetheart. Right here, in this bar. God, you’re fucking hot.”
You bit your lip as you came on their fingers, your pussy clenching desperately on them. They kept fingering you through it, until one of them put your panties back in place, then your dress. You watched Joel lick his finger with a look full of desire, and your arousal increased even more. 
“Take me to your van, please. I need…I need more”, you breathed.
Frankie kissed your cheek, and Joel placed his hand on the small of your back as you got off the stool. Your legs were shaky and he held your elbow until you reached the parking lot then the van. Frankie offered to come to the back with him, on the mattress that they had already set up for the night, without knowing how it would end. You both lay there as Joel started driving. You didn't know where and right now you didn't care. Frankie was already leaning towards you, kissing your cheek then your neck. Your fingers ran through his soft curls. His hand rested against your face at first, then he brought it to his mouth. Licking the finger you had come on, just as Joel had done a few minutes before.
“Damn baby, you taste so good. Can I go down on you?”
“What, now?”
“Yeah. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”
“Fuck…Ok.”
The van was swaying on a bumpy road when Frankie knelt between your thighs, and took off your dress, then your panties. He brought them to his nose and breathed them slowly, keeping his eyes on you, and the vision was intoxicating. The way they wanted you was driving you crazy. He turned the front of his cap backwards, and lay down between your thighs. He growled as he licked a long stripe between your folds.
“Jesus Christ, Frankie…you lucky bastard”, Joel said.
Frankie was already lapping at your pussy, and he was good at it. So good that you already felt a new orgasm building, while he was drinking all your wetness, his thumb twirling on your clit.
“Frankie…oh my god”, you whimpered. 
You heard Joel unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. “You’re so hot that Joel can’t help fisting his cock while driving, baby” he said, before licking your folds again.
“Fuck, of course I do. All these moans are killing me. How does she taste? Tell me.”
“The sweetest taste, man...” He grabbed your thighs to pull you closer to him. As if he wanted more, always more, and you couldn’t stop moaning.
“Jesus...” Joel growled, as you heard the sound of his wrist fucking his cock.
Your fingers were lost in Frankie’s brown curls, while his nose rubbed perfectly against your clit and his tongue roamed your pussy.
“Frankie…”
“Yeah baby, tell me.”
“Your fingers, please, need your fingers.”
“Like this, mmm?” he asked, pushing two fingers in you.
“Yeah…your tongue too, please.”
His lips surrounded your clit, sucking gently, before giving way to his tongue. His wrist gently pumped your pussy and you felt your wetness running down your folds to the sheets.
“Fuck, baby…I can hear the pretty little noises of your pussy from here, you’re so fucking wet.”
“I know, I know, oh my god, Frankie!” You squeezed his head between your thighs when you came, letting him lick your folds until you stopped shaking. The van's engine was off, but you didn't realize you had stopped. You heard the sound of the waves as Joel opened his door to join you in the back.
“Fuck sweetheart, look at that… he ate you good, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah…fuck”, you breathed out.
Frankie shifted aside slightly and Joel lay down, his shoulders between your knees. He caressed your folded thighs, and delicately licked your wetness, being careful not to stimulate your overly sensitive clit.
“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’. Lemme eat ya just a little, ok? “ he said, moving his hand up your sweaty stomach, to a breast that he grabbed. Frankie kissed your thigh, while he caressed your other breast. You moaned again, your stomach rising rapidly with your heavy breathing. Joel’s beard rubbed against your inner thighs. He ran his tongue flat through your folds, sometimes down to your tight ring. Before going back up again, tirelessly. You imagined their hard cocks and you couldn’t wait to feel them in you. 
“You want us to fuck you, baby?”
You nodded, “yeah, need your cocks.”
“Damn, could do this for hours. How do you want us?”
“I huh… I don’t know, I’ve never done that…with two men.”
They looked at each other then Frankie said “we’re gonna undress and we’ll see how it goes, ok?”
“Yeah, seems good.”
“If you’re not comfortable with something, you tell us right away, ok? We’re all here to have fun. Ok, darlin’?”
You nodded and smiled. They were so considerate and careful with you. You helped Frankie unzip his pants and take them off, then his boxers, and held your breath when you saw his cock. “We’ll go slow,  baby”. “We?” You widened your eyes and turned to Joel, already in his underwear, taking off his t-shirt. “Oh fuck”, you said when you saw his bulge. You brushed his crotch and he spread his thighs wider. He was so hard, and so big too. You whispered “fuck...” again, before getting on all fours, facing him. You took his cock out of his boxers, the precum glistening on his red tip. You spread it with your thumb and jerked his cock, while Frankie was caressing the roundness of your buttocks, kneeling behind you. You licked the tip, letting Joel’s taste run down your mouth and then your throat.
“You’re ready for me, baby?”
“Yes, Frankie.”
He nestled his cock at your entrance, pushing in. You whined when he thrust deeper, gripping your hips as leverage. And for a minute you didn’t move, Joel’s cock in your hand, catching your breath. Frankie kept thrusting until he bottomed out. Pushing on your walls.  And you started to suck Joel’s cock, his hands on your head, but letting you lead the pace.
You moved your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on Frankie’s cock. He wasn’t moving, letting you lead too. Your mouth on Joel’s shaft followed the movement of your hips at the same pace as you impaled yourself on the cock, piercing you.
“Fuck, fuck. Sucking me so good.”
“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. So good for my cock.” You loved how they were praising you. Frankie’s hands roamed your body. Your back, your waist, your hips, as your thumbs caressed Joel’s balls, your head still bobbing on his shaft, your lips gradually getting used to his size.
You pulled him out of your mouth and licked his tip, looking at him you asked, “Frankie, will you let Joel fuck me?”
“Of course, anything you want.”
You lay on your back, inviting Joel to come between your thighs. He lay there, his cock in his hand, and pushed in. Frankie lay against you, and turned your face towards him. Kissing you as Joel thrust in.
“Damn, sweetheart…Frankie was right, you’re so tight. Squeezing me so hard, fuck…”
You whined in Frankie’s mouth while Joel was kissing your neck. He thrust in slowly before pulling back. Repeating the movement endlessly, while your legs spread wide gave him full access. Frankie leaned down and took one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on the nipple, his lips wrapped around it. Joel gave you a forehead kiss, his thick cock buried in you. Sometimes Frankie would slide his hand up to your clit, rubbing it lightly, and your pussy would contract on Joel's cock, making him groan. Their mouths and hands were brushing your skin constantly. 
They took turns between your legs, drawing two new orgasms out of you. Seeing them, feeling them fucking you, one then the other, was turning you on desperately and your pussy was weeping. When one of them was kissing you, searching for your tongue with his, the other was kissing your neck, your cheek, sucking a nipple. You loved feeling their mouths on you at the same time.
They fucked you, one then the other, and they never seemed to get tired, filling your pussy perfectly each in their own way. Until you wanted more, and needed more.
“More? Tell us what you want, sweetheart.”
“I want you both…at the same time.”
“Oh, baby. You want our two cocks filling your two holes?” said Frankie, his cock buried in your cunt.
“Yeah, I’d like to try…”
“It’s ok, baby. We’ll go slow.”
“Yeah. Frankie?”
Frankie nodded, pulling out of you. 
“Get on me, sweetheart.”
Joel lay on his back and you straddled him, grabbing his cock and sinking on it. You brushed his cheek and kissed him, before pressing your chest against his, giving free access to Frankie.
He spread your buttocks, your ring was glistening by the wetness that had been flowing there continuously. He passed his thumb slowly, lingering very lightly over it, as you rolled your pelvis slowly towards Joel. Then Frankie leaned down and started to lick it, pointing his tongue against your tight muscle. His hands now gripping your ass, he softened it under the tip of his tongue. Sometimes dropping his saliva on it, and lightly pushing his thumb in. Then a little deeper. He did it patiently, taking his time to prepare you. He was feeling his cock twitching. Your head resting on Joel's shoulder, you were moaning continuously, overwhelmed by the cock in your pussy, and the tongue opening you little by little. They were so hot, they took care of you so well since the start of the evening at the Lagoon. Attentive to your desires, to your reactions. Slightly changing the pace or position depending on your respiration, the pressure of your hands.
Eventually, Frankie pulled away. “You still want it, baby?”
“Yes, yes. Just…go slow, please, Frankie.”
“Of course. Lemme wet my cock in her pussy a little, Joel”, he asked. You pulled away from Joel slightly and he pulled out, his cock rubbing against your clit. Frankie pushed his cock easily in your dripping pussy, fucking it with one hand on your hip, and his thumb on your ass. Joel placed his hand on your neck, his forehead against yours, and murmured “you gonna take us both, sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yeah…Yeah, I’m gonna take you both, oh my god I can’t believe it’s happening…”
Franck grabbed his cock in his hand, and positioned it against your ring.
“Kiss me, sweetheart”, Joel muttured, stroking your hair. You looked up at him, his hands cupping your cheeks before coming to press his lips to yours. Quickly, his tongue sought yours, just as Frankie pushed in. You felt the muscle resisting at first, then gradually giving up. You whined in Joel’s mouth, his tongue never stopping brushing yours. You knew he wanted to make you forget the pain. Then he nibbled one of your lips, before licking it. Kissing you again. Until Frankie bottomed out, his balls against Joel's cock. He didn't stay buried and pulled back as slowly, before thrusting in again.
“Oh, fuck. Baby…it’s so good, fuck…”
“I can feel your cock Frankie, damn…are you ok, sweetheart?”
You nodded, unable to speak. Overwhelmed by all these emotions you were feeling. Your body was in the middle of theirs, and you felt fulfilled. Their hands were all over your upper body. Frankie’s mouth placed a thousand kisses on your shoulder blades and the back of your neck. Joel's hands caressed your breasts, your ass, your thighs. You heard them grunt and moan, in turn or together. You felt a new orgasm building, from rubbing your clit against Joel's lower abdomen.
“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, you whined.
“Come on baby, come again. Fuck, your ass is so good, baby.”
“Come on our cocks, sweetheart. Then we’ll fill you up. We’ll fill that pussy and that ass.”
“Oh fuck”, you whimpered, coming on their cocks, clenching them. You wondered if you hadn’t fainted, for a moment. 
You heard Frankie growling, and Joel calling you a “good girl”, just before he pulsed as deep as possible in you, followed by Frankie. 
You all froze, panting. Catching your breath. Then Frankie pulled back, placing one last kiss on your back. You pulled away from Joel after kissing him, and you lay against him. Frankie lay against you on the other side, spooning you, his hand on your hip. Their cum flowing from both of your sore holes.
You slept there, sometimes waking up during the night, feeling their bodies against yours or their arms around you. Snuggling against one of them then the other. 
When the rays of the sun woke the three of you and Frankie opened the van door, you had a direct view of the ocean. Its color was perfect. The most beautiful blue. And also these pastel, pink colors of the sky, at dawn. 
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You spent the day with them. You surfed, took photos. Frankie’s freshly tattooed forearm with the word “adventure.” You looked at them so many times during that day. And every time your eyes met, you all blushed and giggled, thinking about the night you had spent.
You returned to the Lagoon, and didn't leave them until they finally gave up on the idea of going all the way to Southern California. They called you “our girl”. Their hands, tongues and cocks roaming every inch of your body, just as yours on theirs. They stayed with you until they had to return to Texas.
The day before, Frankie went to get another tattoo. Joel told you Frankie always got one at every place they visit, a tattoo of the best thing there. He showed it to you when he came back: a surfboard with your name on it. You hugged him so tight that he could barely breathe and couldn’t stop laughing, squeezed by your arms.
At the airport, they held you until the last minute. And your heart sank when they left.
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A few months later, you were sitting at the same airport. Ready to board for Austin. So that they, in turn, could introduce you to their lives.
You looked at the sun through the large windows of the airport, and smiled. Life offers good surprises sometimes. Yours was Joel and Frankie.
***************
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
Text
A Long Time Coming
Summary: Going back to the place that started it all as a pair different than before.
Word Count: 5.2k
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Fluff, humor, slight angst, slight dubcon, exhibitionism? kinda? porn with plot, slight yandere alhaitham, mentions of marriage, marriage pressures, pushy family.
Authors Note: This is a small continuation of this basically you take alhaitham back to your parents’ house. I wrote this in a rush to finish it in time for his birthday. Enjoy
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Officially becoming a couple with Alhaitham was as if your world had been flipped upside down, yet not a piece of furniture had been knocked over in the event. That is to say, everything and nothing has changed. Your apartment still housed one, the same workplace banters, the same comfortable silence. Yet, on weekends in your bed lays another body. Under the covers, curious hands roam, and in the air lingered the scent of passion. 
However, once the work week started, the two bodies untwine, becoming you and Alhaitham. No one at the office suspected the fresh development between the two of you, not even your new drinking colleagues. Although, Kaveh has noted to you:
“That guy has been walking around much smugger than usual. Like he just completed all the trials of life. Do you think he got a pay increase again?”
The morning after that fateful night while across the kitchen table, there was a firm handshake agreeing to the boundaries of your budding union. Particularly, that under no circumstances shall a certain blond be the first to discover the true nature of this relationship. Once Kaveh knows, then all of Sumeru and Teyvat will know too. Plus, the absolute hysterics he’ll devolve into when he’s the last to know that the two of you were an item will be the show of a lifetime. Great minds think alike after all. 
Right now you and Alhaitham were in his rented car on the way to the first big challenge of your relationship: Meeting your parents. Well, that is a bit misleading, your parents already know Alhaitham, they practically were his secondary guardians, often looking after him when his grandmother was busy. Their eyes watched the pair of you grow up as their wrinkles grew. 
But things have changed, Alhaitham is no longer just the neighbor's grandson and your childhood friend. He was now going to be introduced as the man you are dating. That fact made you jittery the whole drive, nerves bouncing off the corners of your skull, as you held the basket of fruits Alhaitham had bought as a gift to them. 
“The fruits will get bruised if you keep tossing the basket with your legs.” He remarked, never taking his eyes off the road. 
“I can’t help it. I’m nervous, Haitham. I don’t know how you’re so calm.” You consciously made the effort to still your leg.
You glanced over at him, taking a moment to admire his side profile, his face and demeanor stoic as ever. Alhaitham, who usually spent the weekends in his comfortable t-shirts and sweatpants, made the effort to wear a crisp black button-down and tailored slacks. You also observed the extra effort he had put into his hair today. 
“Simple. I am a familiar face to your parents, and they often commend me for my accomplishments, not to mention my physique.” Large hands firmly grasped the steering wheel as he made the turn down the well-known road.
“Oh? Then why are you all dressed up mmm?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.
“It will serve me well to maintain a good impression.” He swiftly rebutted.
You let out an exasperated sigh while shutting your eyes. If you had a sliver of the self-confidence your former childhood friend had, you’d conquer the corporate world. You faced the road again, basket shifting in your lap as you sank lower into the plush leather seat. 
“Remember what I said back in the apartment, absolutely no PDA in front of them. You already know how they are.” 
“I am aware.” 
His polished car pulled into the driveway of your parent's house, the trees in the front lawn casting a nice shade from the blazing light of the sun. He shifted the stick into park. The gentle rumble of the engine ceased the moment he pulled out the keys. Alhaitham swiftly unbuckled, opened, and exited his car. A resounding thump felt as the driver-side door closed. All the while you fumble with your seatbelt, the oversized basket impeding your dexterity. Then finally the click that signaled freedom just as the passenger-side door unlatched. 
“I’ve carried this for long enough. It’s your turn.” You gestured towards the fruit-filled hassle on your lap.  
“Alright.” He effortlessly took the basket from your lap with one arm, and the other outreached towards you patiently.  
You held back your teasing remark as you accepted his invitation, gently placing your hand in his awaiting palm as he helped you out of your seat. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter at his actions, hoping to control the growing smile on your face when you turned away to close the car door. Your hands swayed together up the pathway to the front door, steps matching. 
Your nerves growing as the distance decreased until you were right in front of the lacquered wood. You hastily pulled your hand out of his tender hold, palms getting a bit sweaty. 
“Again, no touching in their presence.” You warned once more. 
Swiftly you pressed the doorbell, its cheerful chime drowning out any possible response from Alhaitham. From behind the door, you could hear the soft thumps of your mother’s feet against the wooden flooring as she strode up. When you hear the clicks of your mom unlatching the door, you took a side step away from Alhaitham, putting a bit more space between your bodies. 
The door flies open. 
“Oh! Dear! Our daughter has arrived! With a handsome guest!” Your mom called back towards your dad. 
“Is it Alhaitham, honey?” Your father’s voice rang from deeper in the house.
It’s been less than a minute and you already want to sink through the floor in embarrassment. Your face begged to be shielded away from your lover’s prying eyes, despite his stoic face he was definitely enjoying this. Just how many times has your mother praised the sculpted perfection that was his face? 
‘It’s just for a few hours, you can power through this. You will survive.’ You repeated this silent mantra in your head. 
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Four cups of tea were placed on the living room table, freshly cut fruits taking their place in the center. Your parents both sitting on the opposite sofa from you and Alhaitham. Your lover seated himself comfortably directly in front of your father while you sat at the far opposite end, even placing a throw pillow between you and him as if to create a barrier. 
Your mother was chatting nonstop, questioning Alhaitham about every topic she could.
“How has work been, lil Haitham?”
“The usual.”
“Oh my! Have you grown even taller?”
“My last health check-up did not indicate such a thing.” Despite loathing small talk, he answered overall politely in his monotone voice.
“Then… Have you finally found someone special? A lover?” Your mother pressed, eyes twinkling.
During the last question, you were taking a sip of your tea, only to choke when you processed what your mom had just asked. 
“Ah, not on the carpet child! It’s brand new!” Your mother chided. 
“... You have something to say, little one?” Your dad asked as he handed you a napkin, one brow raised. 
Ah, there’s no use in delaying the truth any longer. After all, telling them was the whole purpose of the two-hour drive, with Alhaitham even going through the trouble of renting a car. As if preparing to rip off a band-aid you counted down in your head, prepping your eardrums. 
3-2-1
“Alhaitham and I are seeing each other.” You quickly revealed. 
Instantly the air was filled with the harmonized gasp of your parents, their hands clutching onto one another and their mouths agape. Their owl-like eyes shiftng between your now red-stained face and your lover’s neutral expression. Expressions morphing from utter shock to disbelief, then finally melting into joy.
“Oh! Dear! The gods have answered our prayers!”
“I know, honey. My faith has been renewed.” 
They were right. Somewhere up above, there must be a god amused by your suffering. You wanted nothing more than for the couch to swallow you as your cheeks burned. May if you were to be sucked into some subspace, you can avoid the absolute tidal wave of questions from your mother’s mouth. 
“For how long?”
“Ah… for about two months now.” 
“How did this happen?” 
“L-long story…” 
“Have you moved in together?”
“Not yet, mom.”
“What date is the wedding? Planned names for the kids? You should name one after-”
“We are planning to take things slowly-”
“Slowly?!” Your mother’s voice peaked. 
Your mom and Kaveh should compete to see who can shatter your eardrums first with their shrills. Your gut churned as you knew what was about to come next.
“You’ve known each other for over sixteen years already, is that not slow enough??”
“I-it’s not the same-”
“Most people your age get married after knowing someone for only a fraction of that time!” 
“U-um-”
“Oh, why is my daughter so indecisive? Do you know just how many people would kill for your place? Poor lil Haitham’s youth is being wasted.” Your mother cradled her face in her hand, disappointment evident. 
A chill overtook your body. The frosty hands of insecurity ran along the back of your neck, preventing you from choking out a response. Not that you had a good answer anyway. 
In fact, you did not have an answer for why you wanted this relationship to move slowly. Were you just scared? Indecisive like your mother just described? More troubling was that Alhaitham also heard your mother’s outburst. From experience, you knew Alhaitham loathed nothing more than things that wasted his time. He is human, his patience is finite.
The atmosphere was tense, despite the beautiful blue sky of Sumeru outside, the room seemed dark and dreary. The cups of tea now growing cold. Deciding to step in from the sidelines, Alhaitham deemed it inappropriate for the conversation to end like this.
“Currently, the geo-political atmosphere has been tense with raising concerns over Snezhnaya. As a result, the economy in Sumeru has been going through a bit of stagflation, not to mention the rapidly inflating prices of houses. As you know, ma’am, I am currently renting out my home to a colleague to cover a portion of the mortgage payment.” He took a sip of tea. 
 “This is all to say that now is just not the right time.” He finishes, placing the cup back onto the wooden table.
“He’s right, honey.” Your father finally contributed to the conversation. 
“Alhaitham and our little one are still young, and the world is turbulent. We shouldn’t be putting more pressure on their shoulders, honey.” Your father reached over to soothe your mother's arms. 
“Once the state of the world settles down, please let me ask for your daughter’s hand.” Alhaitham asked while looking sincerely into their eyes, a sign of his respect for them. 
The gesture brought a surge of heartwarming pride through your parents. As your mother soon changed gears into singing praises of her prospective future son-in-law, the atmosphere in the room light like the sun outside once more. You looked over at Alhaitham, a thankful and knowing smile gracing your lips as you tuned out your mother. 
Many people assume that academically gifted geniuses, such as Alhaitham, lack social and emotional awareness. But the existence of the ashen-haired man beside you shatters that preconceived misconception.
 Alhaitham knew how to take control of the situation, he knew how to dispel tension, and how to mediate a difficult conversation. Perhaps he had learned it from his constant observation of strangers, or maybe from the philosophy novels he had browsed. 
Your hand began inching towards him along the sofa, heart longing to feel his warmth through your skin, to intertwine your fingers. He shifted his body, increasing the space separating you. 
Your hand halted, retreating back to your side shameful like a sinner. You didn’t feel like you had the right to be upset, after all, it was you who told him how distastefully your parents would react to physical displays of affection. 
It may be that the opportunity for tender intimacy between you and him came so sparsely. Only two days out of seven could you act on your affections for one another. Yet, here you were deprived of it in the house you and he shared many memories in. It left you with a bitter sting in the heart.  
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The bored gods seem to not be able to get enough of the drama playing out in front of them. Because as if scripted, the moment you and Alhaitham tried to bid your goodbyes, your parents began to pester for the pair of you to stay for dinner. 
“Little one, your mother and I put so much effort into renovating the place. Don’t you want to see?” Your father's lips frowned.
“I also got up extra early to get the freshest ingredients for supper. Do you not miss our cooking?” Your mom guilt-tripped. 
“Well, you see Haitham needs to return the car soon-”
“No, I don’t. I made sure to pay for two days' worth of rental, enough to cover a weekend. Also, it is almost my usual dinner time.” His curt voice answered from behind you. 
Your face snapped back towards him, the look of utter betrayal plastered all over your features. Outnumbered three to one now, you had no choice but to cave as your shoulders dropped. The gods must be laughing at your suffering, wanting the comedy to continue. 
“We’ll go rest a bit in my room…” You quietly uttered. 
“That’s wonderful! Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes! Your room has been left untouched.” Your mom chimed, smile beaming. 
“Yes, yes. We’ll go there now…” You listlessly began the journey up the stairs, Alhaitham right behind. 
“Little one.” Your dad called out from the bottom of the steps. 
“Yes?”
“The door is to remain open at all times.” He reminded. 
“Dad, we’re not kids-”
“House rules.” Your father crossed his arms, stern eyes glancing over Alhaitham and you. 
You dropped your head, feeling as if you had reverted back to your teenage years again. Today was really testing your resolve isn’t it? 
“Fine.” You huffed, continuing your way up the shiny new stairs. 
--
The moment you reached your room, you softly pounded a fist into Alhaitham’s stupidly firm chest. 
“Traitor.” You huffed out. 
“I can’t help it, your parents’ cooking is too good of an offer to pass up.” He said as if stating the obvious. 
“They’re gonna continue with the small talk you know.” You poked. 
“I know, but you’ll be at the table too.” He rebutted. 
You let out an exasperated sigh. He was going to expertly redirect the conversation towards you, just like how he always did back then. You really just can’t win today. You plopped your tired body onto your old bed, the stack of pillows and plushies shifting out of their positions. 
All you’ve done today was sit and talk, yet you felt more exhausted than if you had ran up all 10 stories of your apartment building. You couldn’t wait to go home.
Alhaitham’s teal eyes trailed up your spread form, then around your childhood room. Your room was like a time capsule, with the same wooden desk in the corner, the same unnecessary amount of pillows, and the same scent that was so wholly you. Maybe it was the nostalgia of being in the room the two of you spent so much time in, same open-door rule, his mind began to run through some memories. 
All the times you would lay in your bed with shorts that barely covered your ass. 
All the times you would press your body against his as he help you with assignments at the desk. 
All the times you would run your fingers through his hair and coo ‘smart boy’ after taking your finished homework from his hands. 
All the times the scent of you would linger on his clothes as he pressed the fabric against his nose on particularly desperate nights.
His jaw clenched as murky desire began to bubble up inside of him.
Alhaitham thought after the night when you both proclaimed your feelings to each other, that creature lurking over his shoulder would subside. A miscalculation on his part. 
The boiling pot of emotions, he had been continuously lifting the lid off to relieve the pressure throughout the last two months, only continued to boil over faster. 
The creature only got hungrier, he only got greedier. It wanted to claim you as fully his from the inside out, down to every fiber of your being. Two days out of the week was not enough, it needs more.
Frankly, he thought it was unfair how your essence would taint the rationality of his mind. Isn’t it only fair that he settled the score? To give you a taste of the insanity you put him through. 
Quickly taking note of the bustling noises of your parents in the kitchen, preoccupied with the task of supper. The kitchen radio plays old pop songs from the time of your parent’s youth. These details only encouraged him to put his plan into action. 
“Hey Haitham, before we leave did you want to check on your grandma’s property?” Your eyes focused on the ceiling. 
No response was heard from your ashen-haired lover, as his slow steps closed the distance between your bodies.
“Haitham?-”
Like a falcon swooping down to grasp an unsuspecting hare into its sharp talons, his body pinned yours against the plush bed, lips sealed against yours. The pure shock of it all made you react with a gasp. Never one to miss a window of opportunity, his tongue snaked its way into your mouth. His woodsy scent invades your senses. It’s only been two months since it began, yet your body responded so perfectly, Pavlov could’ve used your reaction to test his theory instead of those dogs.* 
Your skin heated up against his, legs shifting to encase his body against yours, muscles going limp under his control. If you were this weak after a simple kiss, Alhaitham needs to take extra precautions to ensure no other person could ever see you like this. The dark glint of lust was evident in his eyes as his hand trailed under your chiffon skirt. 
He didn’t have the chance to tell you today, but your choice of a light sweater and long flowy skirt was absolutely endearing. So sweet and innocent, and under him, such easy access to be devoured. To emphasize just how vulnerable you were, his long fingers traced all the way up to outline your folds. Feeling how your cunt twitched in response to his touches over the fabric of your panties. Your mouth was desperately trying to break away, lungs burning with the desire for oxygen. 
“Ah- H-haitham?” You whispered out, startled by this uncharacteristic outburst from your lover. 
A thread of saliva connected your two lips, as your flushed face looked up at him. His face was stony as ever if it weren’t for that smirk in his eyes. It signaled that he was perfectly aware that his fingers were now pushing your panties aside. Middle finger sliding up and down your slit, purposefully bumping into a certain bundle of nerves towards the top. 
“W-wait, here? Haitham, my parents-” You stifled a moan when his finger flicked your button. 
“We’re not in their presence at the moment.” He retorted quietly, pressing sweet little kisses against your neck. 
“Still!” You harshly whispered. 
His finger pressed against your opening, and instinctively your cunt clenched, only to close onto nothing. A slickness began to develop along your slit. It’s been five long days since the last time your poor cunt was given any attention. 
“Your body sure is honest.” He tutted. 
In your feeble attempt to shift out of his grasp, your cunt only pressed more into his hands, which only served to weaken your resolve. He brought his lips closer to your ear, his deep voice sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine. 
“If you really don’t want this, then push against my shoulders. Come now, make up your mind.” This said all the while he rubbed slow circles into your clit. 
You could hear the faint clattering of pots and pans coming from downstairs along with the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. You had put on such a big show in front of your lover about the rules, and yet here you were so needy after him. You hated how greedy your body had become for him, nerves kicking into overdrive and skin prickling as his hot breath brushed against it. 
You turned your head to the side, ashamed of how quickly your resolve had crumbled. 
“Good girl. Open your mouth.” He cooed, bringing two fingers up to your lips. 
Your pouty gaze met his as you granted his fingers access, they fluttered along your tongue. Gathering your spit as they did before he pulled them back out. 
“I want to test my efficiency.” He lazily observed his glistening fingers. 
Oh, the desire in the pit of your stomach leaped at his words. As his hands pulled your body towards the edge of the cramped bed. Effortlessly flipping you over so that your plush ass was now facing him, your face pressed against the sheets. 
“Try to be quiet.” He pushed the fabric of your skirt over your ass, revealing your soft mint panties. ‘So you were expecting something.’
Angling your hips up as he knelt at the side of your bed, your cunt was now fully on display for him. The greedy thing twitching with anticipation each time his cool exhales hit its hot skin. In one fluid motion, his wet tongue swiped up along your folds as his thumbs spread them apart. Quickly you bite into the sheets, praying that it would silence your voice. With practiced precision, his tongue instantly attacked your aching bud, stroking it, rolling it, and flicking it with his wet muscle. 
Your hips would’ve been bucking wildly if it weren’t for the firm hold Alhaitham had on them. Your slick was now spilling out onto his awaiting tongue mingling together with his spit as they began to drip down his chin. His tongue continued to assault your swollen bud as your teeth ground against the sheets, fighting to keep down your moans. 
All the while your parents remained blissfully unaware of the beast they’d let into their home that was currently doing unspeakable things to their daughter. 
You felt your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head as you felt that familiar white heat approaching, tension so close to snapping. It would only take 1-2-3 more flicks of his- It all stopped. A whine almost ripped through your throat at the sudden loss of his tongue as he pulled away. 
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood back to his full towering height. The pressure in his pants screams to be relieved. Who was he to deny himself such simple pleasures? Swiftly undoing his belt and pushing down his boxers, the raging length eager to bury its thick girth into your willing walls. 
You couldn’t help but wiggle your hips a bit, egging him on to give you what you’ve been craving more than any food. The glaze of his tip against your twitching hole was the only warning you got before his hips snapped against yours. The momentum so great it caused the sheets to slip out from your teeth, a loud moan on the cusp of escaping if it weren’t for Alhaitham’s hand swiftly grasping your mouth. 
Your walls welcomed the familiar stretch, clenching and releasing as if they were placing wet kisses along his length. He wasted no time in beginning his brutal pace against your hips, each thrust rocking both your body and the poor bed. Your brain was too preoccupied with pleasure to even worry about the creaking, drool beginning to collect in his hand. 
He already knew where all your weak spots were. And he knew exactly which angle his hips needed to be in order to hit them in the way that made your eyes go to the back of your pretty little head. So that’s what he did. As he felt your slippery walls clamp down tighter with each intentional thrust. Tears of ecstasy were rolling down his hand from your eyes, firm grasp vibrating with every blocked moan that clawed against it. 
Those dark thoughts danced along the edge of his mind again as he criticized his past self for being so foolish. If he had known you were this weak to pleasure, then he would have done this ages ago. He would have taken you against that desk in your little short shorts, making a mess of the papers. He could have made it so much more efficient. 
Alas, the past is the past with no bearing on the present. And right now he was absolutely wrecking you against your old bed. He had taken a winding path, but it still lead to the same place in the end. 
Your walls suddenly became impossibly tight as the convulsions of your orgasm shot through your body, eyes disappearing to the back of your head. Alhaitham had to bite back a moan as he felt your pulsing walls try to milk him. As much as he would have loved to spill everything inside of you, right now was not the right time. 
Perhaps in the future, you will beg over and over again for him to fill you with the essence of him. 
Quickly pulling out, his hand letting go of your hip to give his length the last few strokes to the finish line. Cumming along the curve of your ass, watching as the thick liquid stuck to your skin. Your cunt was still shaking as you slowly descend down from cloud nine. 
He felt confident enough to release your mouth from his hand. Your ears filled with the sound of your pants overlapping each other until-
“Dinner is ready!” 
Your body froze as you turned to face your lover with wide eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of his impassive face. As if he had already predicted this was going to happen at this very moment. 
Ah… The bastard timed this out, didn’t he? 
Swiftly Alhaitham took some tissues from the desk to wipe both you and himself down. Pulling your panties back into place you fussed over your skirt and hair in the mirror, trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. While Alhaitham tucked himself back into his slacks, buckling up his belt again. 
On your way down the stairs, your mother raised an eyebrow at your trembling legs as your frame followed behind your lover. 
“What happened?”
“Um, I stubbed my toe against the desk again.”
“Ah, you hopeless child.” She tsked. 
--
After the food was cleared out, plates cleaned, and lacquered table swiped down, your parents quickly suggested that the two of you stay for the night. 
This time Alhaitham firmly turned down the invitation, he must have reached his conversational limit for the month.
Waving goodbye to your parents from the passenger seat as they stood under the porch light, a great stress was finally lifted from your shoulders. You were finally released from the torment of the gods. 
Looking over at the man driving beside you, you observed how his eyes also seemed more relaxed. Hands holding the steering wheel in a loose grip as he drove just a bit above the speed limit. 
“Finally had enough?” You taunted. 
“My ears are still ringing.” 
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Freshly showered and tucked under the soft covers of your own bed, finally away from the prying eyes of the world. It was only you and him now in the little world of your own called your apartment. Even with the thin walls and sometimes broken water heater, it was a safe haven neither of you would ever trade up. 
The rhythm of your matching breaths provided the room with ambiance, his hand toying around with your left ring finger. A box was currently hidden in a drawer at his home. The jewels once dawned by his grandparents, then his parents, now one day the box his grandmother had left him will have the honor to meet you. 
Meanwhile, your thoughts were consumed by the echoing of your mother’s words back in the living room. It would have been so much easier if it was just a dramatic outburst, but the semblance of truth in her words gripped your mind. If you hoped for a peaceful night of rest, then you needed answers from the source currently cradling your hand.
“Do you feel that my mom’s words from earlier are true? You… you have already given me sixteen years, yet I asked for more time… am I being greedy?” Your other hand hesitantly traced the veins that ran along the back of his hand. 
A silence fell over the two of you as if the winds of Dragonspine had just touched time and froze it. 
But his chest was still rhythmically raising and falling, your heart still drumming in your ears. With every beat passing, you feel the icy hands of doubt creep up your back, they were choking you, making you feel a sting in your eyes. 
‘I am wasting his time.’
The shifting of his large frame snapped time back into place as he tenderly pressed his forehead against yours as if to ground you from your running thoughts. Pulling away slightly for his teal eyes to hold your gaze. In a gentle whisper, his deep voice resonated in your ears.
“It doesn’t matter. For I’ve already decided that in exchange for the rest of your life, I will devote the rest of mine. So, whether it be three, five, or ten years it matters not to me. In comparison to a lifetime, those numbers are insignificant. ”
His hand continued to caress your ring finger.   
“I am a lot more patient than you think.”
In the span of your entire existence together you had always been the one with the most words, the first to break the warm silence, and the first to jest. 
Yet, in sporadic moments there are times when Alhaitham would string together words from his vast vocabulary that would leave you speechless. This was one of those moments. 
When words cannot be used then action must come in. With wet drops collecting in the corner of your eyes you pulled Alhaitham’s lips into a chaste kiss, so soft yet so full of love. Arms interweaving to bring your two bodies into one whole, warm being. 
“Although, for the sake of your ideal wedding. You might want to have it happen when my body is still fit enough to carry you down the aisle. Of course, I’ll maintain this form for the foreseeable future.” He whispered next to your ear.
“Oh hush, since when did you start cracking jokes, Haitham?” You were smiling as warmth dripped down your cheeks. 
Let your mother nag until her voice fades. Let the years slip through your fingertips. Let the economy go to absolute waste. Those future worries be damned. 
All that mattered right now, in this singular instance, was that you were in his arms and him in yours. 
--
Fin~
Author note: * this refers to classical conditioning, I’m going to be a nerd now in my writings. 
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.
3K notes · View notes
anzulvr · 11 months
Note
What do you think Karma would be like with a calm/chill reader who's easygoing and effortlessly charming personality sometimes turns completely 180 when they feel strong emotions? Like they can go from sweetly comforting Nagisa to yelling oddly detailed threats at Terasaka while chasing him with a metal bottle for eating her food. (Maybe mix in some passive aggressive sarcastic sass when Korosensei's being annoying?)
Karma x Chill(..but actually really passive aggressive) reader 🤗🤗 Ty for the request!! (Sorry took long)
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— You don’t argue often and you are also very good at listening to everyones perspective and ideas even if they’re different from you. People view you as very understanding so seeing you actually getting into a heated fight it’s surprising at first.
— Karma is so surprised when he sees you angry for the first time like he didn’t know you had it in you to say the things you did.
— He TRIES to get you pissed off just to see you react, since you know he’s kidding and dating him gives you a soft spot for him it’s basically just him failing to annoy you.
— This one time Karma scribbled over your paper to bother you and all you did was frown for a second and erase / re do anything he messed up. (He felt bad and helped you when he realized you weren’t going to fight 😭)
— then in a group project with Yoshida (also Isogai and Rinka) Yoshida scribbled a little bit on your notes (not nearly as much damage as Karma made) but it pissed you off so badly you grabbed a marker and started scribbling on his face
“I’ve been working on those notes for days you actual dumbass”
“Hey- I’m sorry!! I’ll rewrite them— get off me your using permanent marker it’ll be hard to take off!!”
“GOOD.”
— “Damn [name] that mad?” When you hear Karma mention how you reacted you stop so fast
“I wasn’t actually mad. We we’re just playing right Yoshida?”
Only out of fear he agrees “Right..”
— You’re tolerance for everything is way higher for Karma because you like him too much to get mad, that doesn’t mean you never get mad at him it just takes a little more to.
— Some of the things you respond with are shady in the way people expect Karma and it’s just so confusing cause it feels so out of character for you.
— but it’s definitely one of the things Karma likes the most about you because 1. It’s funny 2. Hes glad to see you stand up for yourself once in a while because he’s usually the one telling people off for you.
— passive aggressiveness would come whenever Korosensei or really E class is too pushy about certain topics.
For example before Karma confessed to you theyd push you to do it first and come up with crazy plans to make things happen.
— they full on locked you in a room together and instead of waiting it out you found a way to break the doorknob (together #romanceisreal)
Angry you and happy Karma is a mix end class fears because he’ll be constantly hyping it up😭
Like you’ll be be hitting Terasaka with a notebook because he said something stupid and Karma will go:
“[Name] wait— Use this one it’s way thicker!!”
(took inspo for ur original request lollol)
Karma will support anything you try and honestly rile you up more to see what you do
Angry you and Angry Karma is definitely the worst mix of all
hell on earth
! but it hardly happens since you usually reel each other in
Just tell him to chill tf out😭
Having strong emotions isn’t all bad, you’re empathetic, kind and care for everyone in class— even Terasaka no matter how much of a pain he can be.
mom friend-ish?? (Awe yeah Mom friend definitely)
They don’t actually mind it and are grateful for the times you stand up for them bc they know you love them
Especially Karma even though you’re prone to getting into arguments like all couples do it’ll work out fine because you both care to much about eachother.
If you’re the type to remind people you love them after arguing it’s another thing he loves about you, since he himself has trouble saying he’s wrong first it’s helped him swallow his pride and apologize faster.
(Literally so cute my fave relationship dynamic)
1K notes · View notes
kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months
Text
Follow Me Down
Pairing: Robert Fischer x Reader
Word Count: 5.3k
Summary: Dealing with Robert's advances feels like a full time job in itself. When he finally pushes you past your breaking point at a company party, you decide that it's time to teach him a lesson.
Warnings: Smut, hate sex, semi-public sex, mean reader, pushy/bratty Robert, kind of switch!Robert, S&M themes, oral (f receiving), face sitting, high heel kink, spit kink, choking, non-consensual creampie, name calling (including one use of "bitch"), workplace harassment, degradation, misogyny, mentions of drinking/alcohol, reader insults Robert by suggesting that he would spike her drink (but it does not actually happen)
A/N: Are New Year's Eve fics a thing? If not, they should be haha. I love New Year's Eve, so as a little early present, please enjoy this piece of absolute filth. Title was inspired by George Taylor's song Come Follow Me Down, which I listened to on repeat while writing the smut portion of this. Thank you for reading, and I'm wishing you all a great start to 2024!
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Robert Fischer was the kind of man who had everything handed to him in life, and it showed. He was petulant, unserious, and thoughtless. Or at least, mostly thoughtless; he did possess the very annoying ability to badger the living hell out of someone in order to get what he wanted. And tonight, as was so unfortunately often the case, the focus of his one-track mind was you.
He was trailing after you now, either oblivious to or willfully ignorant of the look of annoyance plastered over your face as you tried to lose him. He barely had to hurry to keep up.
“Don’t be shy asking for my help with closing that big merger if you need it,” he told you.
You grimaced. You knew how to do your job.
“Robert, let’s not talk about work while we’re off the clock,” you said shortly, trying to make your voice as sweet as possible so that he wouldn’t have an excuse to comment on your tone.
You were at the company’s New Year’s Eve party. Ostensibly, this was the last of (too many) excuses littered throughout the year for the big wig executives to drink expensive booze and make fools of themselves on the company dime. And, annoyingly, it was also yet another opportunity for Fischer to try and sleep with you. 
“Okay. Let me get you a drink then,” he offered.
You decided you were done being sweet. You stopped and turned on your heel to face him.
“I wouldn’t leave you alone with my drink for two seconds, much less accept one you’d gotten your grubby little mitts on,” you hissed.
Robert made no indication that he understood what you were insinuating. Instead, he rested a hand on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer to him.
“Then I’ll escort you to the bar,” he said. “And I’ll even keep my hands on you, so you’ll know that I haven’t touched your drink.”
He was disgusting. 
“Why don’t you escort yourself?” you shot back, shaking out of his grip.
You were abstaining from drinks tonight, wanting to keep your wits about you just in case Robert tried to get too handsy. Or, handsier than he usually was. This was a fairly frequent occurrence, and although you were used to it, it still pissed you off. Robert was nothing you couldn’t handle, but the arrogant rich boy attitude got old quick. It annoyed you that you couldn’t say anything without risking the job you had worked so hard for. Unlike him, you hadn’t been born into a world that put you automatically on a pedestal. On the contrary, it often felt like people were trying to kick you off the ledge.
Robert was walking behind you again, thankfully keeping his hands to himself even as he hovered at your heels, and you walked deeper into the party. All around you, drunken coworkers reveled and laughed. There was only about one hour left in the year, and by god the company was going to spend it drinking enough champagne to kill an elephant.
“Come on,” Robert called behind you, still trailing. “Don’t you know how to take a joke?”
You ignored him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. As you wove your way through the crowd, one of the higher-ups signaled to you. 
You jumped at the opportunity, hoping that Robert would at least have the common decency to leave you be while you were talking to a man who was essentially your boss. But of course, rules and manners didn’t apply to Robert Fischer like they would to anyone else. As you talked with the executive about mergers and acquisitions, Robert stood directly behind you. Practically breathing down your neck. You had to bite your tongue when he placed a hand on the small of your back again. What the hell did he think he was doing?
After a few minutes, the higher-up - slightly intoxicated - excused himself and wandered off, leaving you alone again with the man who was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.
“Robert-” you started to bark.
“God, you’re sexy when you talk business,” Robert interrupted.
You were facing him again, his arm still wrapped around you possessively. You caught a whiff of bourbon on his breath. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but the alcohol had clearly loosened his tongue. Usually he wasn’t this forward. You frowned.
“And you’re an unprofessional prick.”
Your outburst almost seemed to shock you more than it did Robert. His expression never faltered, except to allow a small smirk to spread across his lips.
“Sweetheart, don’t flatter me like that,” he teased. “A pretty girl like you could give a guy like me ideas.”
He raised his eyebrows at you as he said “ideas,” lowering his voice a bit. You got the message.
“I’m sorry if I was unclear,” you said, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. “But the only idea I want to give you is to leave me the hell alone.”
Robert put his hands up, pretending to look wounded. Or maybe he was going for shocked. As if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear already just how uninterested you were. He took a step back, to your relief.
“Okay, I can see you need some time to cool off,” he relented. Finally, you were getting somewhere. “But can you really blame me for getting mixed signals?”
You had no idea what Robert was talking about, until he started pointing above him. Your eyes trailed up, and you saw for the first time a little sprig of mistletoe, hanging in the hallway. A leftover from the company’s Christmas decorations. Of all the places you could have been standing… When you looked back at Robert, your mouth was a thin line.
“What are you, twelve?” you asked. 
He just smiled. 
“Christmas is over, Robert,” you said coldly.
As you started to walk away, he called after you.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”
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Fischer was right about one thing - you did need some time to cool off. Being around him made your skin crawl. It made you feel like you needed a shower and a guzzle of holy water, just to exorcize any lingering traces of him from your system. A gin and tonic would probably have at least some of the same effects. And you were craving one, but you reminded yourself that you needed to stay sharp. Robert had left you alone for now, but it was only a matter of time before he would be back. You settled for just the tonic.
Rubbing your head as you walked through the party, horribly bitter drink in hand, you wondered why you had even bothered to come. So much of what you did was for the sake of appearances. Anything to claw your way ahead. Though of course, even you had limits. Sleeping with Fischer would, ironically, probably end in a boon to your career. But you definitely weren’t about to let yourself sink to that level. 
You looked down at your gin-less tonic, twist of lime bobbing lazily in the bubbles. Why were you even drinking this? It certainly wasn’t for the taste. You dumped the rest of your drink in a potted plant, and set the empty glass down on a table.
This party was a total drag. But, you figured, at least you wouldn’t have to go far to find a little solitude. One of the benefits of working for an insanely wealthy company like Fischer Morrow was that even mid-level employees like you got extravagant offices. Your high heels clicked against the tile as you strode off, eager to leave the maddening din - and Robert Fischer - behind.
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You reached your office door, and instantly knew that something was off. Behind the frosted windows, you could tell that the lights were on. The party was on the floor below yours; there should have been nobody up here, much less in your private office. Maybe it was just one of the cleaners, working late. Well, no problem. They would be easy enough to get rid of, and then you could regroup and prepare yourself for the remainder of a night full of fending off Robert’s advances. You pushed open the door.
Really, you should have seen this coming. Of course it wasn’t going to be this easy to get rid of him.
“Robert,” you sighed. You took in the sight of him, sitting in your swivel chair and looking very pleased with himself. “Do I really have to ask you to get out of my office?”
“Not if you don’t want me to,” he taunted, effortlessly throwing your own words back at you. He winked, and you narrowed your eyes.
You walked over to your desk, large and shiny with a stained walnut finish. It was an expensive piece of furniture, and one that Robert somehow managed to look right at home sitting behind. As if he owned the place. Which was closer to the truth than you particularly liked to think about. 
“Why do you enjoy doing this?” you asked, not expecting a real answer.
“I just like getting a rise out of you,” Robert said.
It sounded strangely honest. You leaned over your desk, staring down at him. Trying to size him up.
“You’re very mean when you want to be,” Robert continued, almost observationally.
You weren’t sure where he was going with this. Sure, you could be mean. It was part of the reason why you’d achieved the position you were in now; you didn’t advance in business by being a pushover.
Robert, you noticed, was currently staring down the front of your dress. You scrambled to stand up, and crossed your arms over your chest. The little pervert wasn’t even trying to hide it. You circled the desk, coming to rest on the side where Robert still sat, watching you calmly. You silently willed him to get out of your chair; to leave your office and give you twenty seconds of peace. He didn’t, of course, and so you took a seat on the desk, crossing your legs and tapping one foot in the air.
“So, what? Do you get off on me being mean to you or something?” you pressed.
Robert shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. For some reason, that infuriated you even more. You hated his smug face; that little smirk he was wearing right now that meant he was getting what he wanted. You had the sudden urge to slap him. Maybe that would teach him a lesson.
“And what about you?” Robert asked. “What do you get out of this?”
“Me?!” You were incredulous. “Christ. What could I possibly be getting out of putting up with you constantly bothering me?”
Robert shrugged again, and your desire to slap him grew.
“Maybe you get off on it too,” he guessed. “Being mean, that is.”
“You think I get off on doing this?” you scoffed. “Do you ever think about anything besides sex?”
“You’re the one who brought up getting off; not me.”
You were really going to lose it. You could barely see Fischer sitting in front of you now for all of the angry red that was swirling through your vision. He thought he could walk in here, sit at your desk, and then tell you you got off on being mean to him? He didn’t know how mean you could be.
“What’s your end goal with all this, Robert? You really think you’re gonna get to live out whatever twisted fantasy you’ve made me a part of in that sick little head of yours?”
“Maybe,” Robert said nonchalantly. You could feel him undressing you with his eyes.
“Yeah? What are you hoping to do to me?” you prodded. You didn’t care what you were saying anymore; you were way past the point of professionalism. “Probably tie me up and watch me try to fight you off, right?”
Robert looked up at you very calmly, holding your angry gaze as he answered you.
“I’d rather have you step on me with those heels,” he said.
You were taken aback.
“Excuse me?”
“I said: I want you to step on me with those slutty little stilettos you keep waving in my face,” he repeated.
You froze. One foot was braced against the drawers of your desk, and the other was poised in the air, hovering just in front of Robert’s knee as he sat in your chair.
“What’s the matter?” Robert asked. “I warned you you’d give a guy like me ideas, didn’t I?”
Part of you was in shock. This was not how you had expected this interaction to go. But another part of you - a corner of your mind that you didn’t even want to acknowledge - really was turned on by the idea of putting him in his place. You grinned.
“What makes you think I’d do that for you?” you hummed, mocking him.
Before he had a chance to respond, you lifted your foot and pressed the sharp point of your heel against the fleshy part of Robert’s shoulder. His expensive suit jacket started to crease. You pushed your heel in a little more, pushing him back just an inch.
Robert’s eyes started to wander, trying to sneak a look under your dress as you sat in front of him, your leg lifted up to press into his shoulder. 
“You’re a pig,” you told him, shifting your foot so that it was in the middle of his chest. 
The new angle made it a little harder for him to get a peek, with your legs more pressed together. Robert’s eyes drifted back to your face, a look of restrained amusement dancing across his own features. He was trying to play it cool, but you noticed the way his fingers dug into the chair’s leather armrests.
“Just another pretty boy in a suit,” you continued, inching the toe of your shoe up toward his collar. 
The point of your heel was right over his sternum, and Robert started to smile. He really was enjoying this, and the realization both repulsed and aroused you.
“Think you can take whatever you want. You need to be put in your place.”
You pushed back with your foot, making Robert’s chair roll a few inches so that you had space to stand up between him and the desk. You planted one foot on the floor, and the other directly over his crotch, pressing in with the dull toe of your shoe. The point of your heel rested on the chair in front of him, between his slightly parted legs. You weren’t trying to impale the poor man, but the devious look that Robert fixed on you as you towered over him almost made it look like he would have preferred if you did.
“Told you y’get off on being mean,” he teased.
You grabbed hold of his tie and pulled his face closer to yours as you looked down at him.
“Robert, if you think this is what a woman looks like when she gets off, I have some very bad news for you. Why don’t you show me what that pretty mouth is good for?”
You pushed away from him, climbing back up on the desk and spreading your legs. The tight black dress you wore rode up your thighs, and Robert instantly dropped to his knees in front of you. He hooked a finger into the crotch of your panties, using it to drag them to the side until you were on display for him.
“You can deny all you want,” he mocked, “but you wouldn’t be this wet if you really didn’t enjoy it.”
“Jesus. Stop talking,” you ordered.
You shoved his face between your legs, and his tongue eagerly came out to lick at you. You were wet - there really wasn’t any denying it - but you didn’t need him pointing out that fact as if he weren’t the one desperately lapping at your cunt. Robert was the pathetic one here; you were really just going along with things to teach him a lesson. If he wanted you to walk all over him, you would make sure he regretted ever crossing paths with you. And if you happened to get off while doing it - well,  you'd just chalk that down as some much-needed stress relief. Dealing with Robert was exhausting.
You hooked your legs over his arms, pinning him in place as he balanced himself against the desk. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at this. Very good. His tongue was lavishing you; his blue eyes never breaking contact with yours as he ate you out. The way he was looking up at you felt dirty and yet dangerously addicting, all at the same time. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer as your breath hissed through your teeth. Abruptly, you pulled him away.
“Get on the desk,” you commanded, a little out of breath.
Robert stood up, wiped his smug face, and started to climb up onto the desk.
“On your back.”
He laid down, swinging his feet up so that he was fully spread out across the hard surface. You reached up under your dress to remove your panties. Having him hold them to the side was only getting in the way.
You carefully got up on the desk with him, knees resting on either side of his face.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you scoffed, half for your own benefit.
“Think of it this way,” Robert smirked beneath you. “Isn’t it gonna make you happy to wipe this smile off my face?”
“I thought I told you to shut up.”
You sat down, putting almost your full weight on his face. Robert reached up to grab hold of your thighs, supporting you, and you were actually grateful for it even though it gave him an opportunity to grope at your ass. Your legs were getting weaker every second, and you could feel yourself tipping over the edge.
Part of the thrill was from being in such a compromising position. Before, if someone had walked in, there was a chance that Robert could stand up and you would be able to smooth down your dress in time to avoid getting caught. But now… well, riding a man’s face as he was splayed out on the desk beneath you was a little harder to recover from, logistically.
You ground your hips down, so tantalizingly close to coating his face in your release. Robert seemed to sense your urgency, and dug his fingers into your flesh, practically begging for it. His tongue dragged roughly across your clit, sucking with just the right pressure.
Your mouth hung open as you came, at first frozen in a silent scream and then moaning, sinfully, as an orgasm rolled over you. You seemed to shake from your shoulders down into your knees, and Robert’s tongue lapped up all of your arousal. He pressed his lips to your clit one final time as you slid off of him. 
When your hips were straddling his, Robert sat up to hold you. His hands were hungry, grabbing at your waist as he tried to pull you closer and into a kiss.
“No kissing,” you choked out, putting a hand on his chest to stop him.
Robert didn't try to push past you, just paused and looked up at you with light, teasing eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart. It's New Year's Eve. You're not gonna give me a kiss at midnight?” 
You swallowed, not trusting your shaky voice to respond without giving him more fuel to taunt you with. He didn't need it.
“Even after you already let me wrap my lips around your pretty cunt?” 
Your hand on his chest pressed down, pushing him back onto the hard wood. Robert smiled again, proud of himself for getting to you. He really did know how to wind you up.
“You’re such a typical rich boy,” you spat. “So used to getting anything you ask for.”
“Usually I don’t even have to ask,” Robert corrected.
“Right. Other women just throw themselves at you?” You felt your hatred flare.
He gave you that knowing look again, but kept his smirking mouth shut. You noticed the way your arousal still glistened against his lips. The whole lower half of his face, actually, was drenched, and the sight of it sent a pang of renewed desire all through you.
Suddenly, Robert’s grip tightened at your waist. He bunched up the fabric of your dress, exposing you a little more, and forced you down onto his leg. 
“Use me to get yourself off.”
Already impatient, his hands had started to pull at your hips, making you rock back and forth. The cloth of his suit pants brushed roughly against your exposed clit, still sensitive from his earlier treatment. But still, it felt good. Too good.
“Robert-”
You had opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.
“Mm, say my name, baby.”
He was so full of himself. Something snapped in you, and your hand flew up to his neck. As your grip tightened, Robert only threw his head back.
“Honestly, do you ever shut up?” you spat.
Despite yourself, your hips started to stutter against him, desperate to rub harder as the pressure started to build in you again. For whatever reason, you found yourself going along with Robert’s demands once more. Your hand on his neck squeezed.
“You really do get everything you want,” you hissed, teeth clenching against the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.
“Not true,” Robert choked out beneath you. His voice was straining from your grip, but you could still hear the hint of satisfaction. “I haven’t gotten to stick it in you yet.”
Your walls clenched around nothing, and you hated how his words could affect you. You angrily took it out on him, pressing the hand on his neck down even harder. Robert hissed out through his teeth, then dissolved into a rough cry of pleasure. 
“Fuck," you gasped.
Your grip loosened, suddenly, as a wave of ecstasy came crashing over you for the second time. It was unexpected and fast, taking you by such surprise that you fell forward on the desk a little, caging Robert’s face with your arms. Your stomach churned with embarrassment as the feeling faded, and you realized that just the sound of his voice had been enough to push you over the edge.
You looked down, and saw Robert’s eyes full of mirth. His face was flushed, blood rushing back now that your hand was off him. A few strands of hair stood out of place against his forehead. Honestly, he was a mess; clothes all wrinkled and normally-neat red tie knocked askew. You could feel yourself dripping. His very expensive suit pants were probably ruined. Although, that was really his problem.
“Tell me again how you don’t get off on being mean?” Robert rasped below you.
You were panting, and clearly in no position to answer him. But even if you had been able to speak, you certainly weren’t about to tell him that it had been his animalistic moan that really made you come. Robert started to sit up a little, keeping one arm around your waist.
“You hate me so much.” Robert’s voice was still slightly hoarse, but there was that tone of amusement, as usual. 
“Poor little rich boy.”
It was all you could think to say, still trying to recover from two orgasms back to back. Robert gave you a look that was almost pitying.
“When are you gonna admit that you’re just jealous?” Robert purred.
You gave him a look of disgust, hoping your scowl would communicate everything that you couldn’t verbalize. Your head was still reeling, dizzy from the rush.
“You think you’re better than everyone else just because you have to scramble to get ahead? Please. You wish you had it as easy as me.” Robert’s hands came up to grasp at your wrists, holding you in place as he brought his lips close to yours. “But lucky for me, you’re not above sleeping your way to the top.”
Is that really what he thought this was? No. That wasn’t the reason for this. Inch by inch, Robert was bringing his lips closer to you. This bastard, thinking he understood you. Infuriated, you did the only thing you could think to do, and spit on him.
He stopped, but didn’t look particularly surprised. The trail of spit started to drip down his face, mixing on his cheek with the leftover sheen of your arousal. Calmly, Robert brought a hand up to his face and wiped off the efforts of your rebellion.
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, sweetheart.”
In the next instant, Robert’s hands were at his belt, nimble fingers working the buckle. You noticed for the first time how painfully stretched his pants were. He had to be in agony. But, you thought bitterly, that was probably exactly how he wanted it.
“Here - why don’t you spit on my cock?” he goaded, pulling himself out of his briefs.
Your eyes blew wide at the sight of him. That certainly explained the amount of confidence he had. You struggled to shoot back a response.
“In your dreams,” you muttered.
“Don’t be like that,” Robert chided, pouting a little bit.
As much as he liked to act, you could tell that he wasn’t really hurt. Someone as arrogant as Robert Fischer could never be truly bothered by anything. This was merely an inconvenience. He pinched your cheeks between his rough fingers, forcing you to look down at his dick with your mouth open. A long, wet rope of saliva fell from your lips.
“There, was that so hard?”
Robert’s pinching hand left your face as he brought it down to rub at his length, hastily working your spit over himself.
“This is for your benefit anyway,” he winked. “Don’t want it to hurt you too much.”
You watched, almost mesmerized, as he pumped himself a few more times. Satisfied, he stood up, taking you with him. Standing in your heels, you were almost as tall as him, and he looked directly into your eyes.
“Now, do you want me to fuck you over the desk, or up against the wall?”
You almost couldn’t believe his audacity. You glared at him, a heavy, electrical silence hanging between you.
“Tick-tock, sweetheart.”
“Go to hell, Robert,” you answered. 
“Well, then I guess we’re doing what I want.” He smiled. “How ironic.”
He lifted you up in one swift motion, and then your back was against the wall. The head of his cock was pressing into you, and the stretch was almost painful.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Just what I would expect from a stuck-up little bitch.”
His words stung, but not as much as the snap of his hips as he thrust into you, forcing a little whine out of your lips. You grit your teeth, trying to muffle your reaction.
“You squeeze me so good when you’re angry,” Robert laughed. “Fuck.”
His hands were digging into you, holding you up as he pulled out and then pressed greedily back in. Your head pushed back against the wall, overwhelmed by his size. 
“What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you?” he teased.
“You- wish-”
Your words cut off as Robert fucked sharply into you again, then paused. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling his hips against you as you tried to hold yourself up. It only made him push deeper. 
“Fuck, Robert-!”
You cried out, interrupting yourself again, and felt his lips brush against your neck.
“I didn’t even move that time, baby,” he smirked. 
You couldn’t stand to see him so smug. Somewhere deep inside yourself, you found strength.
“W-what are you waiting for, then? Get to work, pretty boy.”
Robert grinned as he thrust into you, even more powerfully than before. You wanted to whimper, but bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You really are something else,” Robert chuckled.
His pace had started to speed up, and now he was pumping in and out of you relentlessly, each thrust pushing you back against the wall. Your body had finally adjusted to his girth, and you were almost starting to enjoy the stretch. Not to mention the way that his head hit a certain spot inside of you, nearly making you fall apart every time he brushed against it.
You were finding it harder and harder to suppress your moans, and every now and then one would slip out of your tightly-pressed lips. Robert seemed to speed up every time he heard you whimper.
“Fuck!” you swore, as he hit a particularly deep spot.
“You take my cock so well,” he grunted. Even trying to keep his cool, it was clear that he was only seconds away from release. “Now let’s see how you take my cum.”
“Not… not inside,” you panted.
“Don’t- fucking- tell me what to do.”
“Don't fucking come in me!”
Pressed against the wall, your options for retaliation were limited. Your legs could do nothing but wrap around him; his hands stopping you from putting your feet on the floor. Your own hands were occupied gripping at the lapels of his suit, hanging on for dear life as he split you open. Really, the only available part of you was your mouth.
Your lips bruised hard against his, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting hard enough that you hoped it hurt. Robert let out a muffled growl against you, and you sank your teeth in more.
Somewhere far away, a clock chimed and the party below you surged drunkenly. Robert thrust his hips into you one last time, and then you felt him painting your walls; cum leaking out of you as he held you, still suspended in the air. As the buzzing in your head started to fade, you realized he was smiling against your lips.
You jaw relaxed just enough for Robert to pull himself away. His lip was bruised; angry red from where your teeth had scraped him. He was even more disheveled than he had been, and, somehow, even more satisfied with himself.
“Ended up giving me that kiss anyway,” he rasped, voice still heavy from exertion and lust. “And right at midnight, too.”
You felt your hatred surge again, weakly. You were exhausted; barely able to keep yourself upright when Robert finally set you on your feet. He stepped away, leaving you to tug down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. A very difficult task, considering you still had fresh cum leaking out of you. Your eyes quickly scanned the floor for your panties. You would not stoop to searching on your hands and knees for them. Not until Robert left your office, at least.
Robert finished zipping his pants and replacing his belt, shiny silver buckle clicking under his fingers. He tugged at his suit, barely making a dent in the wrinkles, and smoothed a hand over his hair.
“Well, I would say ‘same time next week,’ but I think it would be easier to pencil you in at lunch,” Robert joked. “Maybe we can finally have that drink before I take you back to my office. You’ll have a really nice view of the city while I fuck you against the window.”
You really couldn’t believe the nerve. Although, by now, it should have been easy to expect no less from Robert. You walked right up to him and planted a finger in the center of his chest.
“If you think I’m ever having sex with you again, you’re twice as delusional as I thought you were,” you huffed. 
Robert took one more long look at you, and shrugged.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
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smoke-and-silver · 6 months
Text
Rut Season Headcanons
feeding the people as promised 😔
General headcanons / all characters:
Horn/antler growth in real life animals increases exponentially during mating season, so I like to think that demon horns also increase in size during ruts.
They run hot during their cycle; flushed cheeks and blown pupils are common.
Certain animals actually “play wingman” to their siblings, helping them with courtships rather than competing with them, to increase the chance of family genes being passed on.
In line with this, the brothers shockingly fight less during rut, and are more likely to share MC during this time.
Heaven forbid a lesser demon makes a move during rut though, or there will be a brawl.
MC can calm them down and ask for mercy on the other demon’s behalf, thankfully.
Belphegor
Between his engorged horns and how much energy his cycle takes out of him, he has trouble holding his head up at times. He nods off more often during the season.
He has a deep heavy scent, something like oud or dark dark chocolate, that just surrounds him during rut. It’s a pleasant musk meant to appeal to mates; a hazy miasma that just melts your brains.
He’s so pliant the entire season. You can climb atop him any time you see him dozing somewhere and he’ll let you use him as long as you like.
The out-of-your-mind-horny hormones and drowsiness makes such a funny combination. He’ll be struggling to keep his eyes open and still climb on top of MC to mount up because they cooed at him and asked him to please them.
He’ll practically collapse right after but dammit he’ll get the job done.
It’s pretty entertaining how quickly they can rouse him just by offering themselves, really. Like waking a kid on Christmas morning, he’ll sit up even as his eyes have barely opened, all wobbly still as he reaches for MC or stumbles over to them.
He doesn’t have very flashy displays or colors like some demons, but he makes absolutely the most inviting nests. That combined with his little demon love perfume and the fact he really is just gorgeous to behold all stretched across the pillows full demon form–he still has a very strong appeal all his own.
Beelzebub
The most territorial during rut. Extra defensive of the house, his brothers, and MC. Definitely starts the most brawls with other demons at this time.
Sometimes it’s out of protectiveness, sometimes it’s to show off for MC, other times it’s just to blow off steam from how hormonal he is right now. He’s locking horns left and right.
Will straight up swing his horns or scuff the ground at other demons the way bulls do before they charge, to make them back off.
Rut is the only time lesser demons can’t appease him with an offering of food. All that’s on his mind right now is knocking skulls together and bending MC over the nearest piece of furniture.
He’s very insistent on making sure MC is fed, even more so than usual.
He can even be a little pushy with it, holding more food to their lips even as they struggle to chew what he’s already given them. He wants to see their stomach so full. It may be hard to convince him that they can’t eat any more.
I love the headcanon that he can rub his wings together to make noise the way some bugs do. I like to think it’s a hypnotic, polyphonic sound, like the tinkling of furin chimes. ( https://fb.watch/oSx4Q-bHBh/ )
The “song” can induce a pleasant daze if you don’t resist it. With everything willing and consensual of course, you could let him lay you down and take care of you for a while.
The iridescence on his wings grows more vivid during rut season, the tips taking on an almost stained glass look. With his big horns and more demonic features unveiled, he really is beautiful to see.
Asmodeus
We know he handles it the best. He retreats to his room with tea and slippers and chocolate and handles the hormonal storm like a pro. Though, there’s moments where he’s clearly straining, taking deep calming breaths that sometimes come out shaky.
He breaks now and then, even after centuries of practice, when no amount of self-care and happy thoughts can soothe the boiling heat inside of him.
Those nights, he just cycles through every toy and wand he owns, unable to keep himself sated for long without help. If MC accepts his invitation they will be there all night.
Like Belphegor, he has some pheromones going on, though much less intense–more like a natural perfume.
A heady scent like honey clings to his skin. It’s warm and he smells like sex incarnate–fittingly.
Absolutely no sparring or clacking horns. Demons who challenge him get ignored. If someone threatens MC or his brothers at this time he’ll just skip the brawl and slice them open with his claws. You’re reminded that even if he isn’t interested in the usual rut fights, he is absolutely still an effective killer.
His main mating display is preening and adorning both himself and his person of interest–so, not too different from his usual shows of love, really!
Though, his bubbly demeanor melts away to something much more sultry. He’s less playful and far more direct with his flirtations now. His gaze is so heated and his words are slower and dripping with need.
Where he would typically propose some cheerful invitation or giggle through some innuendos, during rut he’ll put his hands over MC’s, and look at them with half-lidded eyes, and tell them exactly what he’d like to be doing together right now.
Satan
Oh his face is so flushed and lovely during rut. A permanent blush on his pretty cheeks the whole season.
He can’t focus on anything. His mind is clouded and his whole body feels so hot. All he wants to do is bury himself in MC and taste their lips.
Naturally pretty good at avoiding fights though, with how practiced he is at keeping his temper down and controlling himself. No demon has the nerve to challenge him to spar anyways.
Bets are off if MC asks him to challenge someone, though. They murmur in his ear that they’d like to see him put on a show and a thrill runs through him, tail flicking around and his breath quickening. RIP the nearest demon.
MC can straight up sic him on people like an attack dog while he’s in rut. He won’t pick any fights himself, but he’s eager to display his strength for them if they ask.
 It’s okay; demons are good sports about it. Everyone fights everyone during rut. No hard feelings.
The amped up demon forms are out all season. It’s too much to maintain a human glamour while your hormones are raging. Not only do his horns swell but a second, smaller pair appears. His blue eyes deepen like a storm rolling over the sea and a small, ephemeral flame can almost be seen flickering above his head, depending on the light.
He’s the biggest on scenting. Any chance he gets he’s nuzzling on MC or burying his face in their hair. He loves breathing in their scent and he loves leaving his behind on them.
Probably the most forward with his advances. At some point he’ll just herd MC into his room, even bumping them, gently, with his horns once or twice to urge them forward, then lock the door behind them and enjoy them for a few hours.
Leviathan
Fantastic at nesting. Could honestly just make a little love nest to hide away the whole season if MC agreed to it.
Those little spots/scales going up his neck on his demon form are definitely bioluminescent during this time. His horns reach higher and branch out more.
Probably one of the more likely ones to get into a brawl, actually. He’s a jealous bitch who was coaxed into a fight over a game show. Now imagine this is his mate we’re talking about, and combine that with raging rut hormones.
It’s less of a fight and more of a mauling, though. T’is the season for everyone to be reminded that he is the 5th most powerful demon alive. The few demons willing to challenge him are absolutely mangled. He shreds them in mere moments.
He loses some of his shyness in the desperation for relief. His body is aching to be touched and there’s only so much he can handle before he pulls MC in and tells them what he needs right now.
There’s so many love bites. Their skin is so soft and he can’t help but nip at them in those heated moments. If they don’t mind it, he’s more fond of marking than scenting.
Typically he’d be embarrassed about hickies or love bites showing on MC, but he’s extra possessive during rut and his sin is soothed knowing that they’re walking around with clear marks from him for any competitors to see.
Mostly he just wants them close, held snug against him, wrapped up in each other.
Mammon
He'll brawl for MC, but no one is willing to challenge him. He is unbelievably powerful. Rut makes him so frightening that even the witches usually chasing him avoid him for the season.
Also, he’s more focused on pleasing MC than dueling other demons, so he doesn’t get into many sparring matches.
His spiraling horns elongate and gently curve back like those of an eland. It's hard to keep his wings tucked away when he wants to show them off for his partner so badly.
He’s already down to bone at a moment’s notice on a normal day, but during his cycle? Mans is desperate. He’s squirming in his seat whenever he sees MC, fidgeting and biting his nails, until they can slip away together.
If MC is in reach, his hands are on them; on their knee or feeling up their thigh, anything to feel them.
When they aren’t nearby he pleasures himself just to get relief. His libido is usually high, and during his cycle it’s off the charts. MC could keep a tally of how many times they’ve caught him in the act, though it usually leads to them joining him.
His main form of display is gifts, of course. Not just flashy things; he brings MC snacks and tidbits throughout the day, or their bag or keys or a hoodie to stay warm because hey it’s chilly out today, or whatever he thinks they need at that moment.
It’s nesting behavior, with him constantly checking in to ask if they’re hungry, cold, comfortable, ect.
He wants to show that he can provide even without money. He’s an ancient beast who’s been prowling the three realms since before grim or bank accounts–or debt collectors–even existed. If he’s there, MC is taken care of. End of story.
There’s nowhere he shows that best, especially when rut is making his heart race and his blood feel like fire in his veins, than in the bedroom. All MC has to do is ask, at any time, and he’ll eagerly show them how generous he can be.
Lucifer
Oh he is gorgeous in his seasonal plumage. Homeboy invented peacocking. He is 10 million years old. He predates every colorful bird and flashy feather in existence. Peacocks were probably modeled off him. You want a mating display honey you are looking at the blueprint.
The tips of his wings take on an ultramarine hue like ink seeping onto paper. Eyespots appear on his outer feathers. They’re faint at first glance, but they flash when the light hits them, like when a cat’s eyes catch the light.
Let’s not forget that it’s not just 4 wings either, canonically he’s been said to have twelve total in full demonic form. It is the definition of a display when he unfurls them all for you.
Another character who is not going to be locking horns with anyone. He’s as feverish and flooded with hormones right now as all of his brothers are. Any demon who would challenge him in this state is just going to be hit with some ancient-dark-destroying-angel shit and be struck blind or have their insides instantly liquified or something.
He’s very tender during his cycle, actually. I know we imagine rough-and-feral when it comes to ruts, and he’ll still have MC babbling and incoherent as he desperately pounds into them at some moments, sure–
–but what he wants most right now is to sink into MC and let their scent envelop him and let their touch ease some of the fire pulsing through his body. He can’t get enough of kissing them and the sound of their heartbeat helps quiet his frenzied mind.
He’s still absolutely insatiable, naturally; at some point Lucifer just takes the rest of the season off because he knows he’s not actually going to get anything else done until it’s over.
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stuffeddeer · 3 months
Note
Hello I’m new here, I just couldn’t help but notices how lovely you write. So I have little request for you.
Can I request Nikolai and any characters you want reaction when their s/o hides stuff between her breasts?
omg welcome just my drunk friend! tysm!!!! i love nikolai im on it 🫡 and dazai ofc..
has: no pronouns used but mention of boobs and bras, also one (1) use of the word tits. is that worthy of a warning? probably not. but Nikolai says it in a weird way bc he’s the worst so just in case 🤞🏻
You knock feverishly on Nikolai’s door. Fuck, where did you leave your key? You’d already made it back to your apartment when you realized it wasn’t in your pockets. The last place you were was Nikolai’s, so if he didn’t have it you aren’t sure who would.
“Nikolai, you dick,” you mutter under your breath. That asshole is definitely still awake, so why wasn’t he answering the door?
The knocking ceases as Nikolai swings the door open, hair unbraided and eyes glimmering. “Missed me that badly?” He leans forward, bending down slightly to maneuver his face just above yours. “You could’ve called, y’know.”
“Yeah, well,” you shrug. “I need to come in.”
“Pushy!~” He pouts, crossing his arms and standing up straight. “Not even gonna say hello?”
A groan passes your lips, too frustrated at your missing key to play his games. “You didn’t.” You pause momentarily. It’s less frustration and more so anxiety that makes your skin crawl and your tone snippy. “Sorry, I just lost my key. I’m worried I dropped it on the street walking home.”
Eyes lighting up, you would’ve sworn Nikolai beamed down at you with two mismatched flashlights. “You need your key, you say? And what if I told you I could procure it for you?”
Your shoulders slump down, relaxing. He’s being an asshole, sure, but at least you know he has it. “Please, Nikolai?”
“Mm… You gotta promise not to be mad when I retrieve it. Especially since I’ll be your savior, you know!” He puffs out his chest, already proud before he has even produced the key.
“I promise, I’ll be eternally grateful as long as I can find that key.”
Nikolai’s warm and ungloved hand slips under your loose shirt collar, digging beneath your bra and in between your breasts. You freeze, even with the warmth of his hand on you. Before you can chew him out for the random grope, the jester pulls your apartment key from in between, flashing both it and a wolfish grin to you.
You say nothing for a moment, just staring slack jawed at your key. Had you really..?
“You dropped it in there before you left,” he shrugs before dropping the key back in between your breasts, not bothering to hand it to you properly. “And I just stare at your tits all the time, so I noticed.”
With a gentle smack to his bicep, you fish the key out once more and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god; I thought I was going to have to change my locks!”
“You still should - I have, like, several copies of your apartment key littered around my apartment,” Nikolai smiles once more.
You don’t even bother replying, just turning around and leaving his place for the second time that night, your apartment key in hand.
Dazai would start hiding things in there too. He tosses a pen your way before heading out on a mission, one where he knows you can’t bring a bag along, just to watch as you stuff it in between your breasts. You’d sigh resignedly, used to his actions by this point and having long given up arguing or telling him off.
When on said mission, he’d find any and every reason that one might need a pen and turn to you expectantly, waiting for you to pull it out and hold it out for him. It’s always so warm after, heated up from its time nestled between where he’d like to be stashed away.
You’d complain after he asks for the pen for the nth time, telling him if he needs to use it so often he can get one himself! Those words were meant to tell him to bring/carry his own pen, but he’d grinned before taking that as meaning he could jam his hand down your shirt to reach for it himself.
“What? You told me to grab it myself…”
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mariariley · 9 months
Note
how do you think the 141 guys would answer your ft calls?
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141 x reader
answering your ft calls
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Word count: 0.7k
masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3
Ghost
Probably won’t answer (hates fting (just like me))
If you’re pushy enough and keep calling him he just might answer because he would start getting paranoid it’s something urgent
Would tell you to fuck off if you just wanted to bother him (nothing personal, it would be sarcastic)
Will stay in the call though and it would probably end up being like 3 hours long
As time would pass perhaps he would start answering more often
He isn’t a fan of calling or texting or any of that stuff to be completely honest
But he just might do it for you
🖤
Soap
Is probably always asleep when you call him in his free time
Always answers anyway
It’s hard to get off the call though, blud just keeps talking
Will definitely bring his phone to the toilet and take a piss while still talking to you (you’d have to remind him to wash his hands every time)
Will always tell you to turn on the lights if you’re in the dark so he can see your pretty face
His fav thing to do is watch you show him what new stuff you bought
If you wear makeup, he would love seeing you do it
As your partner he would definitely be into freaky facetiming
Loves texting and calling in general, he’s a spammer when it comes to that
🖤
Gaz
Answers most of the time
Even when he doesn’t he apologizes over text messages and calls you back
Mostly outside when you call him so expect a journey through the city and subway with him
Loves staying with you on ft till late hours, just blabbering about anything
Would send kisses over the camera
Would watch movies and series with you while facetiming
You’d probably always be the first one to fall asleep because he would stay up on purpose to take screenshots and send them to you
Has a whole album of you being asleep on ft named “<3” (I promise it’s not creepy it’s just cute)
Though when he’d fall asleep first he would love you to do the same, he finds it wholesome
🖤
Price
Old bloke not a fan of ft
He isn’t that much of a boomer but definitely not a fan of some newer generation stuff
He would know how to answer but it would still look a little goofy because he’d always answer with “Can ya hear me/see me, luv?” or “How copy, luv?”
He’d ask you why you’re doing this because he doesn’t understand the point of face timing, he prefers regular calls
Though sometimes he would love to sit back and relax and just enjoy your blabbering and admire your beauty
Would always complain how he prefers seeing you in person because the front camera makes people look weird
🖤
Alejandro
Would always be happy when you call him
Is probably always cooking when you call him and, even when he isn’t, he would answer and go to the kitchen
Loves showing you new recipes he found and loves describing every ingredient
Probably one of his fav things to do with you when you’re physically distant - cooking facetime!
Loves dancing and singing while cooking so expect a ft concert too (you can never be bored with him)
Loves long fts so expect him to not let you hang up because he always finds an interesting subject to talk about
In the end he would always tell you how much he misses you being next to him
🖤
Rudy
Answers immediately. One ring and he’s there
The moment you call him he would leave everything and get in bed and ft with you forever if possible
Would also watch movies and series with you while facetiming
He knows how to play an acoustic guitar so one of his favorite things to do is play it and sing for you
It would mostly be some of his favorite slow and romantic Mexican songs
He likes to do this in the evening because it feels like he’s singing you a lullaby
So if you’d fall asleep to his singing, his heart would be full
He’d always whisper goodnight before hanging up
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Divider owners already tagged in my previous posts, I don’t want to spam them 🖤
1K notes · View notes
Text
So with some of the takes I've been seeing in the Wandee Goodday tag, I wanted to share my perspective.
Just to note - I firmly believe art is subjective and what we see can vary a great deal based on our own perspectives and lived experiences. I'm not calling anyone wrong, I'm just saying this is my personal take on things. (I feel like this should be obvious, but nuance is so often lost online).
And my main goal with watching QL is fun and escapism. I'm here to have a good time. I tend to go with the flow, I like imperfect characters (I even like the fucked-up ones), and I trust the characterization and plot elements to be doing what they need to do until a problem shows within the narrative itself.
Ok, disclaimers done - here's my take on Dee & Yak's interactions around the fake dating idea.
I think all of their interactions are deeply affected by the degree to which they have already developed genuine feelings for each other, but are not yet in a place to admit it, even to themselves.
Do I think Yak has real concerns about being out as a boxer trying to hit a career high? Absolutely. But I think his quick jump to a "let's end this" reaction was mostly a kneejerk attempt to protect himself for what he felt when Dee, the man he is already emotionally connected to, and desperately wants to be able to kiss, dropped a request for fake dating over a real deepening of their relationship.
We don't yet know the level of societal homophobia this show is aiming for, BL land can go many different ways with this, but considering his brother's openness in the gym that he owns, training boxers, there is a tone being set. Yak literally holds hands with Dee in the middle of the street. He doesn't panic when people recognize him at the hospital. This may change, but I'm going to trust the signposts that his career concerns are valid, yes, but are not the dominant issue between them.
Similarly, is Dee competitive and overly focused on winning? Clearly. It's set up in his earlier conversation with Yak for a reason. But at the same time, his insistence that it has to be Yak is not just about his need to win - again, this is about genuine feeling. He wants Yak. This is a way to get Yak, and to frame it to himself in a way that feels less scary and vulnerable, especially after being hurt by Ter.
I know a lot of people saw Dee as being pushy. I do agree with that, and yes it is going to cause more issues for them in the future. But I wish more people also saw Yak holding firm to his boundaries and refusing to give in to the immature behavior from Dee, showing why he's such a good partner for Dee.
And sure, we haven't seen Dee support Yak as much so far, but the scene with the mother and child wasn't there just for kicks. Dee is empathetic and caring, and that will be important in his relationship with Yak as well. He is there for people when things are at their worst.
Some people see Dee on the bridge as being manipulative.
I saw Dee as finally cutting out the toddler shit and being emotionally real about why he's taking the scholarship too seriously, how sensitive he is to what people think of him, why Yak is someone he trusts implicitly, and how he knows it's not Yak's problem and it isn't fair to expect him to fix it.
Some people see Yak as finally agreeing to fake date as showing he is weak to emotional manipulation.
I see a man who has more agency than that. I see a man who is affected by seeing genuine vulnerability both because of how caring he is as an individual, and because of how much he wants a real emotional connection to Dee. And eyes-open, he makes a choice.
These are two characters who have never just been friends with benefits from the beginning. And the narrative has never been about what they are saying. It's about what they are feeling.
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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months
Note
Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.
How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?
🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx
Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable
A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.
characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi
Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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Kurapika
First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.
Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.
Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.
So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”
He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?
But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”
He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”
Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.
Leorio
He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.
Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.
He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!
It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.
You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”
When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”
You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”
He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”
But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.
That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.
Chrollo
He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.
So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.
So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.
The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.
And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.
So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.
Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.
And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.
He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.
So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”
You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.
Feitan
Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.
But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.
The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.
He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.
So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.
He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.
Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?
But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.
“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”
And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.
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hotchfiles · 3 months
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ too busy being yours ❞ ─ a we could be love blurb
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!rossi!reader. summary: you're pretty much in love with your boss. and he's pretty into you too. but if being your boss wasn't bad enough, he's also your dad's best friend. content warnings: valentine's fluff! no romance involved tho. just friends being friends and sleeping into each other's embrace. as friends do. might not be totally inclusive to full italian girls (?). two idiots in love making rossi seem worse than he is. word count: 2k+. a/n: the bau!rossi!verse begins. i never proof read anything.
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      Being single during Valentine's Day was already bad, hearing your own father's romantic plans for the evening only made it worse. The humiliating truth of not having the same game as David Rossi was daunting, but you didn't have the Italian vibes to use in your favor like he did, and you were pathetically in love with your boss and that made every single man look awful in comparison.
      "What about you Baby Rossi, any saucy plans for tonight?" Your eyes shoot daggers at Derek for making the question, bringing everyone's attention to your warm cheeks.
      "Apparently I have to look for a ride home, saucy enough?" Your father shrugs with an apologetic glance at your answer, he usually took you home but wouldn't have the time to today. That's what you get for carpooling.
      Between dates and the bar, you were getting out of options and was about to accept your fate: You would have to take the subway. You weren't sure how Spencer did it so often, specially with his particularity with germs and people, you absolutely hated it, it was too tiring, too loud.
      You run up the stairs to get to Hotch's office, handing him your reports, slightly out of breath.
      "You were quick with these." It's a praise with a hidden quip: You were always the last one to hand yours, not only a natural procrastinator, but you were the last one to join the unit, you still struggled with some of the bureaucracy.
      "Trying to avoid rush hour, taking the subway today."
      "I can take you home–" He seems surprised by his own response, or by how quick he offered that ride. Your address is somewhere on your files but he doesn't truly know where you live. He couldn't even shrug it off saying it was on his way home.
      "Don't you have a date? I mean–Wouldn't this make you late for anything?" You hope dearly that you didn't make it obvious that you just wanted to know if he was seeing someone. It's obviously too much to hope for, he knows.
      And he smiles sweetly, softly. He tries his best to keep it innocent. "No plans today, just me, my bed... And some popcorn i think."
      You chew on the inside of your cheeks softly thinking about your next move. Hotchner had slipped through conversation earlier that Jack had a sleepover planned, so by that logic, he would be alone, just like you. 
      He wasn’t exactly subtle about his interest in you, but he somewhat tried to conceal it, asking him out on a date seemed too pushy. 
      “Those are exactly my plans… You could maybe stay over for a bit, then? Maybe?” Your eyes glow with the expectation as you ask him, fingers busy with your necklace to soothe yourself. “We might have to pick Garcia up at some point of the night, though, if that’s okay.” You were always tasked with drunk Penelope anytime you bailed on them as a punishment. 
      You didn’t mind, drunk Garcia was fun Garcia, but if Aaron accepted your invitation, you hoped there wouldn’t be any interruptions. 
      Movies and popcorn are innocent enough, that’s the first thing on his mind, it can be innocent, and even when he tries to talk himself down of what could lead to very bad bad choices, your mention of Garcia tips him over the edge. It was just friends hanging out. Definitely. 
      “Yeah… I mean, yeah sure, that sounds fun. I have to keep myself awake until later than usual in case Jack calls me anyway.” You nod more to yourself and offer him a shy smile, just before he hands you more papers. “Oh yeah–You’ve got yourself a few more work hours, though.”
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      The ride to your place is anything but silent. Your phone keeps buzzing, signaling the BAU gals group chat wants details of what’s happening but you and Aaron barely notice it as conversation flows easily between you two.
      You ask him about Jack’s sleepover and the sleeping later ordeal and he tells you how on his first sleepover Jack gave up and called him to pick him up at almost 1am. “When the fun was over he just wanted his bed. Driving the moment I woke was a terrible experience.” 
      That was years ago and he still waits for that clock to hit 1AM before sleeping. Just in case his baby needs him.
      You can feel your insides turn into mush, the way he cares always from the smallest to the biggest ways reminding you of why falling for him was so desperately easy. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Aaron.”  
      The informality catches him off guard, but he welcomes it, loving the way his name sounds leaving your lips. “He’s a sweet kid, much more cooperative than drunk Garcia, I can assure you.” 
      You laugh at his joke and it’s silent for mere seconds before he finally asks the question, the one question on his mind since you walked into his office earlier. Why? Why don’t you have a date? Why aren’t you at the bar? How can you even be single?
      “I don’t have a lot of free time, Aaron. I’m… Busy.” You both know that’s not a lie. But you could try to make time if you were interested, you could’ve gone out today. Unfortunately, when you found yourself having feelings for someone, you couldn’t bring yourself to look for someone else. All the other men seemed so incredibly dull compared to the one taking you home, and you couldn’t but compare when you were with any other. 
      “You had free time tonight.” He’s pushing it and he knows it. He shouldn’t be asking so many questions about your dating life, he shouldn’t pry when he knew himself well enough to be certain he wouldn’t make any moves on you. Younger, beautiful, funny, smart… And the daughter of his closest friend. All the reasons he was so smitten were also the reasons he told himself he shouldn’t lead you on. 
      You deserved someone your age, with no baggage, or at least one lighter than his. Someone with more time to spare, who could take your mind out of the job and not keep you on it. And definitely someone who didn’t go to jazz clubs with your father. 
      Still, his hands are firm on the wheel, turning left to get to your home. 
      “I’m not wasting my free time on guys I meet at bars on Valentine’s Day.” He smirks, finding a good spot to park his car without saying anything else. He’s delighted by your answers even though it isn’t fair.
      He gets ready to leave the car but you stop him, tapping his thigh lightly (it sends shivers up his spine but he’s getting good at pretending not to feel it). “Better get your go bag.” You see confusion on his eyes and that known furrowed brow directed at you. “You’re not gonna be comfortable in a suit. You can change to your spare.”
      He hadn’t thought about that, it would definitely defy the purpose of a quiet relaxing movie night if he was all dressed up in his well known work attire. So he does as instructed and gets his go bag from the backseat, even though he’s getting more and more anxious by the second. The innocent friends movie night he made himself believe looking more and more like he was sleeping over. 
      You give him the tour of your apartment–a gift from your dad when you graduated from the academy, not that anyone really needed to know how spoiled you were–and show him the bathroom where he could change. Or shower. He has his go bag after all. 
      You go to your room to do just that, trying not to let the thoughts of him possibly being naked and under your shower flood your mind as you take the quickest shower you’ve ever taken in your life. 
      As you move from your own bathroom to your closet to get your pajamas you’re suddenly very aware of what’s really happening. You really did invite him to your apartment. This was a date. But it couldn’t be a date, did he see it as a date? Being so very infatuated by him and knowing well he had some sort of interest in you was very very different than acting on it. Your dad would kill you if he knew. And Aaron. And you again, possibly, if he knew it was your doing to initiate it. 
      Instead of your usual thin fabric short shorts and tank top you wear to sleep, you decide to be decent, black silk loose pants, old university t-shirt, cotton robe, socks and fluffy slippers. Anything that could maybe show you are totally just thinking about watching some fun movies with a friend. 
      You take two blankets and two pillows with you as you leave your bedroom, the sound of the shower being turned off making your feet almost run to get everything ready. The couch turning into a bed with a bit of struggle to unfold it. You made sure each blanket and pillow were on each side of it, as far as possible from each other. 
      Popcorn! You need to make popcorn, that’s the first thing you think when you hear the door unlocking, going straight for the kitchen and putting a bag on your microwave. As it popped you got cheese strings and butter out of your fridge. If you couldn’t blow his mind in better ways, you could at least get him hooked to your special cheesy buttered popcorn. 
      “I’m making myself way too comfortable, I think.” His voice is smooth and relaxed and when you look back he’s leaning into the frame, his hair is wet and he’s wearing matching black sweatpants and a hoodie you’ve never seen him wear. 
      For a moment you just want to kiss him and forget about any debate morality could bring to ruin it, but instead you laugh and take the popcorn out of the microwave and drop its content into a bowl, spreading some butter on top and dropping a few strings of cheese on it before putting the bowl on the microwave. 
      “Casa mia è casa tua.” Your Italian is a bit rusty but it still works as a charmer, “Go pick us the most terrible looking romcom you can find while I finish this.”
      “Romcom, huh?” He asks and you can just hear the teasing in his tone. 
      “You didn’t think we were going for some documentary, right?” You use a spoon to mix the popcorn to the melted butter and cheese when it’s out of the microwave, and follow him to the living room, “We’re gonna eat this cheesy, buttered, absolutely heart-swelling popcorn and make fun of some terrible, terrible movie love tropes.”
      You do just that, and it’s awkward at first, the both of you wanting to be closer but also not feeling like you should cross that barrier, but as the night went on, the more you shared that popcorn, the more laughs you shared, the closer you got on that couch, specially after he tried to rub his greased fingers on your face, making you do the same to him. 
      One movie becomes two, and then three, and somewhere in between him telling you about the dates he would take Haley as a teen, making you laugh at how sweet and romantic he always was, and you telling him about your first kiss and how terrible it was, you both fall asleep. Your head on his chest, his arms around you. 
      Jack doesn’t call, and if Emily tried to get you to pick up Garcia you definitely didn’t see it. 
      It’s the first time you both share such an intimate moment, and it is just that. Sleeping in each other’s arms. Aaron even wakes up in the middle of the night, 3AM striking on the clock on your wall. He wasn’t even able to freak out and overthink anything about it, the comfort of your smell making him hug you tighter and close his eyes again. 
      He could deal with it in the morning.
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Really Good Neighbors
NSFW under the cut
CW: 18+, f!reader, embarrassment, dead batteries, mentions of falling in the shower, oral and manual stimulation (reader receiving)
It hadn’t even been a bad day. Tiring, sure. A bit tedious. It wasn’t until you dropped your keys as you were trying to unlock your door that you realize you’re on the verge of tears. You stare down at them for a beat that turns into three.
“You good?
The voice startles you. You look up and see Kyle, one of your favorite neighbors, at his own door. He must have arrived home from a deployment, but you didn’t know he was back. He always looks good, but right now he looks good-good, skin glowing and hair freshly cut, so he’s been home at least a day.
Kyle has always been really nice to you. Always helping to carry your groceries when he’s in town. Flirty, in a young and confident and kind of pushy way, but sweet, too. He’s invited you to the roof for “wine dates” so often that you actually bought some string lights to decorate. He’s never done more than buzz a kiss against your cheek, so you know it’s just good fun. You’re glad he’s back. Maybe you’ll invite him up to the roof this weekend.
The curious look on his face gets a bit concerned and you realize that you’ve missed your cue to answer.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you say, with a smile that doesn’t feel at all convincing. “Just… you know. A long day. Work is… yeah. You know?”
He gives you an easy grin. “Yeah, I get it. You need anything?”
“An uncomplicated orgasm, a nap, and a burger,” you say before you can stop yourself. It’s the mantra that’s gotten you through the day. As soon as it’s out of your mouth you want to die. “Oh, god, please ignore me. I’m so sorry.”
He cracks up, which you guess is not the worst reaction he could have. You dive for your keys and unlock your door as quickly as you can. You toss him a little wave before retreating into your apartment.
The first order of business is a shower, to wash off the frustration and embarrassment. Of course, you only realize you’re out of the good body wash after you’re already under the water. Which is fine until you realize that you also forgot to grab a towel. You do an awkward waddle to the laundry and grab a towel for your body, and shamefully mop up your drippings using and hand towel and your feet. At least your hair isn’t wet - a single towel will get the job done.
After toweling off and lotioning, you discover that your favorite sex toy isn’t charged, and you forgot to put batteries in the backup. The cord to the plug in is on the fritz and you haven’t had the money to replace it. So you have to dig up the third runner up. The simple bullet vibrator turns on, thank god. It’s not the best, but it'll have to do. So you retrieve another towel to lay out on the bed and get ready for an indulgent evening.
As you scroll through your favorite site to find something just right, you feel like maybe today doesn’t have to suck. In fact, as you cue up one of your favorite videos, you sigh out almost all of the tension in your body.
And then the batteries in the vibrator die.
You feel like screaming and throwing something. Unfortunately, the thing you throw is the toy, which clatters against the wall, falls behind the bed, and starts buzzing away as if to mock you. You grab a pillow and yell into it long and hard before going to fish it out from under the bed.
You try really hard not to think of the fact that you share this wall with Kyle. Hopefully he was heading out and not coming home.
A knock on your door, just as you’ve finally caught the damn thing and turned it off startles you. You spin in place for a moment, caught between the urge to answer the door, the realization that you’re still naked, and needing to wash your hand and the dusty vibrator.
You throw the vibrator in the bathroom sink and rinse your hand before grabbing the still damp towel from the rack and wrapping it around yourself. Another knock makes you put on a burst of speed and wrench the door open. “Yeah, sorry, what?”
Kyle is on the other side of the door, hand raised to knock again. Behind him, a very tall, very muscular blond man blinks down at you. He’s vaguely familiar - a friend of Kyle’s you’ve only seen in passing. You can tell he’s smirking even behind his black surgical mask.
“Just wanted to check and see if you were okay,” Kyle says, giving you an obvious once over. You're very aware that your towel is not bath-sheet sized and you’re flashing a lot of skin. “Kind of sounded like you were having a hard time, thought you might have fallen in the shower.”
“Nope!” you exclaim. When the blond’s eyes scan you from head to toe, you kind of wish you had. “All good! Thanks!”
“What place?” The huge blond man asks. He pulls his phone out of his pocket.
You answer with an ever intelligent, “What?”
“You said you want a burger earlier. What place did you want the burger from?”
You feel your face flush. “Oh, you heard that? No, it’s okay. I don’t-”
Kyle interrupts. “Hey, you’re having a real rough day. Simon and I can treat my favorite neighbor to dinner.”
“The place doesn’t deliver here,” you say, helplessly. “Really, it’s fine.”
“Didn’t ask if they deliver, love,” says the blond giant named Simon. His brown eyes are amused when they meet yours. “Just asked where.”
Your legs are quickly getting cold in the breeze from the hall. That has to be why your knees are suddenly shaky. “Lucky Chip?”
Kyle grins. “Perfect. Love that place. You like the El Chapo, right? Side of garlic aioli?”
“Why do you know that?” you ask helplessly.
Simon finishes whatever he’s doing on his phone and glides away on long legs. His back is so broad, you’re not sure how you managed not to see him if he was around earlier. Over his shoulder, he says, “Back in a tick.”
“Copy,” Kyle answers. He grins at you. “An orgasm, you said? Just the one?”
“What?” You’re saying that a lot today.
Kyle’s smile is gorgeous as he leans his shoulder against the door jam. “Simon’s getting you your burger. I’m offering you that uncomplicated orgasm.”
Maybe you did fall in the shower. Bouncing your head off of the tile is the only way you can explain your brain coming up with this scenario. “You want… to have sex?”
“I want to eat you out and finger your cunt until you’re nice and relaxed,” Kyle purrs. His grin gets wider when you blush and stammer at him. “Then, you’re taking a nap. Simon’ll be back with your burger. After that, you let us know. He definitely wants a taste, though.”
All you can manage is, “What the fuck?”
“If you’re not into it, I can leave you alone,” Kyle assures you. He leans closer and takes the hand that you’re using to brace against the door jam. He brings it up and brushes his lips against your knuckles. "Won’t mention it again. I’ll be a perfect gentleman. But we’ve been playing this flirting game for almost a year now, so I’m pretty sure you want it.”
“Of course I want to! But-! You’re… I’m not-!” You grope for words and finally settle on, “I’m really not at my best.”
“Not real fussed about that right now, babes. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow night if you like. For right now,” he leans in, uses your hand to draw you close. “I just want to see if you taste as good as I imagine.”
Kyle kisses like he knows what he wants. One hand cradles your chin as he guides you a few steps backward into your apartment. The hand holding yours draws your arm up over his shoulder, and then his hands are everywhere. You have just a moment to realize what’s going to happen before your towel falls. Kyle groans into your mouth. His hands are gentle but firm where they glide over your curves. And then he takes a handful of your love handles in his palm and moans.
His hand catches your chin as he stares in your eyes. “Couch or bed?”
It takes you a moment to understand. “Bed?”
“Let’s go, then,” he practically growls. He turns you with his grip on your hip and slaps your ass. You jump. And then he’s herding you down the hall. He doesn’t waste any time pushing you up against the wall to kiss, though you half expect him to. He does, however, crowd you down against the bed with kisses until you’re on your back under him, legs spread around his hips.
His body feels even better than you’d ever imagined it would under your hands. Even through his clothes, he’s muscular. You can feel the power in his triceps as he braces himself over you. Which makes sense, but you never thought you’d ever experience his strength firsthand.
He pulls away to pant against your mouth. “Can feel you starting to think. Guess I’d better distract you.”
Before you can ask “what?” for the umpteenth time, his lips are on your neck. The contrast between the gentleness of his hands against your ribcage and the sucking kisses on your neck makes you moan.
It’s been a long time since your body felt this lit up, this quickly. Just minutes ago, you’d been sure the universe was conspiring against you. Now, you’re gasping and moaning and too caught up to be embarrassed. Every time you think you’re getting more control of yourself, he surprises another sound from you.
He doesn’t spend much time on your chest. A quick kiss to each nipple, and then he’s making his way down your stomach with kisses and bites. His hands are firm and keep you from squirming away when he buries his face in your stomach for a moment.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he says as he slides off the side of the bed and onto his knees. “Swear, the thought of you got me through this last deployment. Can’t-”
Whatever he was going to say is lost because he practically dives into you. His mouth would be too much, too fast any other time. Right now, though? It’s exactly what you need. He’s a bit too preoccupied to comment on how wet you already are, thank goodness. At the same time, his appreciative groans and the obscene sounds his mouth makes against you are so loud that your ears burn.
When he latches onto your clit and works his tongue against it, you almost levitate off the bed. Your hands grab onto both sides of his head. “Kyle!”
He pulls away just long enough to ask, “Fingers?”
All you can do is nod. His lips are back on you before your head can fall back onto the bed. He presses two fingers into you, carefully at first, then all at once when your body opens for him. He thrusts a couple of times, but switches to massaging your g-spot with immediate accuracy. You don’t even have time to think, Holy shit!, before your orgasm is rushing up on you.
You expect him to pull away completely. Instead, he eases you down from your peak with gentle kisses. He’s whispering something you can’t hear over the rushing in your ears. All you can do is pant at the ceiling.
The force of it knocks the breath out of you. You’re pretty sure you wheeze something along the lines of wait, or god, or Kyle! For his part, he keeps groaning as he rides out your writhing. His tongue doesn’t stop, his fingers just keep going until you’re frantically tapping at his hair, his hands, struggling for breath enough to ask him to let up.
He stands to smile down at you, facial hair wet with you. You realize that your eyes are having trouble focusing. “You alright, beautiful?”
A full body shiver has you clenching on the fingers that are still inside of you. Words escape you, so you hum an affirmative. And then yawn so hard your jaw cracks.
Kyle just laughs. “Oh, yeah, you need that nap.”
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“No, babes, nothing to be sorry about,” he says, gently extracting his hand from between your legs. He hushes you as you whine and lifts your legs to get you settled on the bed. Then he climbs in beside you. “There, that’s better. Just need to be taken care of tonight, huh? Had a rough week?”
Sex doesn’t always make you emotional, but now you’re blinking back tears. Your voice is wobbly when you say, “Y-eah.”
“I know babes, I know,” he says, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. “Let’s have a cuddle, and you can take a nap. I’ll wake you for dinner. Won’t have to worry about anything.”
You’re asleep before he can finish talking.
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