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wilbursprincess · 7 months

Note

Okay so one, love your writing literally sm

Two, imagine being best friends with simpbur and heading to his place after a shitty date and he’s all like “hey, hey, it’s okay.. I can take care of you”

And yk.. it can lead to whatever!

- 💤 anon(?)

“I Can Take Care Of You”

Simpbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Really soft fluffy sex, Soft/ServiceDom!Simpbur

Thank you so much, new 💤anon! I’m a sucker for the ‘best friend helps you after a bad date/breakup’ trope, so thank you for fulfilling my little writer heart <3

Fic below cut!

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur says, frantically running up to me. “What happened?”

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my bare arms from the night chill. “That’s the last time I accept a ride from a guy I’m going on a first date with.”

“Who am I beating up?” He asks, brows knitting in concern as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. “Did he do anything?”

Shaking my head, I let Wilbur lead me to his car, letting a sigh of relief as he buckles me into the front seat and I hear the front doors lock. “Tried to get me to go home with him, and doesn’t like being told no. Got out before he tried anything, but yikes.”

He cranks the heat, a wave of warmth washing over me as I snuggle into his jacket. “That bastard,” he sighs. “Thank you for calling me.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” I murmur affectionately, resting my head on Wilbur’s shoulder and breathing in his comforting scent, the same cologne and shampoo he’s used since I’ve known him. “Did I interrupt your evening?”

Snorting, Wilbur puts a loose arm around my shoulders. “Oh, definitely. A very exciting evening of shitty TV movies and frozen pizza. Care to join me, now that your plans have, uh, changed?”

“Absolutely,” I nod. “Mind lending me some of your clothes when we get to yours?”

“No problem,” he replies, backing out of the parking spot. “Might even dig some ice cream out of the freezer, too.”

“His number is blocked?” Wilbur asks as we head up the staircase to his apartment.

“Blocked it while planning my escape,” I laugh, tugging off my heels and carrying them up with me. “God, why did I wear heels on a date with a guy who’s barely 5 foot tall?”

Giggling, Wilbur unlocks his door. “He’s not worth your heels, princess.” He’s always called me princess, and recently, it had started sending heat between my thighs each time his British accent cooed it at me. “Right, let’s get you changed, and I just bought one of those veggie pizzas you like, want me to throw that in the oven?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I groan. “We didn’t even get to appetizers before I had to run, and I’m running off a vodka soda.”

He preheats the oven, yanking open the cupboard and tossing me my favorite crisps. “Go grab one of my hoodies and some sweats from my room, and I’ll get this ready for us, ok?”

Nodding, I shove a handful of crisps in my mouth on the way to his room, opening the door and sighing at the familiar sight. I’d often teased Wilbur for being a slob, his room covered in clothes and empty mugs, but right now, there was nothing more I wanted to see.

I tug off my dress, replacing it with one of his massive hoodies and an even baggier pair of sweatpants, his softest socks covering my feet. In his bathroom, I use his face wash to wash off my makeup, patting on some lotion and grabbing a stray rubber band to wrap my hair in a bun.

“There we go,” Wilbur says, smiling as I walk back in, munching on the crisps. “That’s the girl I’m more used to.”

I look down at my shapeless clothes, messy hair, and crisp crumbs stick to my lips. “What do you mean?”

“As much as you look amazing in a dress and heels, I love seeing the real you shine through. Wearing my clothes, using a rubber band as a hair tie.”

I’m not even sure how to respond to such a compliment, so I don’t. I just accept a can of soda and an outstretched arm, snuggling into his chest as he tosses a blanket over our laps. “Pizza’s in the oven, it won’t be too long,” he murmurs. “You feeling ok after your night?”

Embarrassingly, tears bubble in the corner of my eyes, and I try and sniff them back before Wilbur sees, but he wipes them away before I can turn away. “What’s with the tears?” he whispers, pulling me into his lap.

“I’m just sick of shitty dates with shitty guys,” I admit, wiping my eyes on his tshirt. “All I want is someone who knows me inside and out, loves me for who I am, and is good in bed. No, scratch that, someone who’s mediocre in bed, since apparently my standards are too high.”

Surprisingly, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. I can take care of you.”

“W-what do you mean?” I whisper, heart pounding, hoping I didn’t mishear him.

“I know you sing in the shower, how you like the burnt bits on pizza, and that you feed all the stray cats behind your apartment because you feel bad they have to sleep in the rain,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’ve held your hair back while you’re throwing up in my bathroom after getting wine-drunk, I know the brand of tampons you like, and where you hide your vibrator.”

“You know where I hide my-?”

Wilbur presses a finger onto my lips. “Shush. I’m not done. That’s two out of three of your standards I’ve knocked out of the park.”

“What about the last one?” I challenge, face in a red flush just from the thought.

“Do you want me to tell you, or show you?” He smirks, hand fluttering on my thigh.

“Show me.”

From how flirty his words had been, I was expecting his lips to crash unceremoniously into mine, but that wasn’t the case. Wilbur was soft, gentle, and sweet, running his tongue across my lower lip before sliding it into the kiss. One of his hands rubs at the nape of my neck, the other stroking the curve of my waist under the hoodie, and I absolutely melt into his touch.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he sighs, barely pulling back enough to get the words out. “Mmm.”

I giggle, nibbling on his lower lip. “I didn’t know you were such a good kisser.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Wilbur whispers in my ear, leaving a hickey just behind my ear. “You want me to show you some, baby?”

“Please,” I whine, tugging on the waistband off his sweats to try and free the growing bulge. “Show me, Wilbur.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he chides, sliding two fingers into the band of my sweatpants. “Can I take these off?”

I nod, reaching down for my hem of his hoodie as he tugs off my sweats. “How long have you wanted to do this for?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit,” he says. “But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

I smile. “Same here.”

We both stare at each other in the dim light, him panting over my almost-naked body.

“Please let me ruin it now,” he groans, rubbing himself between my thighs.

I grind back, both of us letting out high pitched whines. “Ask me that after I see how good that dick is.”

Wilbur pulls back for a moment, tugging down the front of his pants, the leaking length springing up and hitting his lower stomach.

“Of course you have a fucking huge dick,” I groan, making him snort. “My best friend of all these years has somehow managed to hide that from me.”

He leans down, pressing his shaft onto the wet spot on my panties. “And I can assure you that it feels even better.”

I tug my panties down my legs. “That’s two things you have to prove tonight, Wilbur. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Do you want me to use a condom?” Wilbur asks, brows knitted in concern.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control, and we all know neither of us have slept with anyone else in ages.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says softly, working me open with his fingers. “Tell me if I’m going too fast, it hurts, you’re uncomfortable, or-“

Kissing his forehead, I tilt Wilbur’s head back to look him in the eye. “Wilbur. You’re worrying.”

“How did you know I was worrying?”

“Your forehead always crinkles when you worry,” I say. “Relax. I promise. We both want this.”

He sighs. “I just want to make this perfect for you. You deserve it. You deserve the world.”

“You’re already making it perfect,” I reply, stroking my hand down his bare back. “Just be gentle, ok?”

“Anything,” he breathes. “For you.”

Wilbur pushes himself inside me gently, so gently, kissing me all over my face as I adjust to the feeling. One hand squeezes my hip, the other stroking the bare skin at my waist.

“I’m so full,” I groan out, wrapping my legs around Wilbur’s waist to tug him deeper. “Oh, God.”

He smiles, licking a stripe up my neck as we start to move together, finding a smooth, rocking rhythm.

“Mmm, we feel so good together, princess,” he praises, hooking one of my legs over his shoulders to hit me even harder. “You’re so wet.”

I’m surprised he’s touching me in all the right places, since from my past experiences, most guys aren’t exactly adept. But Wilbur was. Incredibly, in fact, not just shoving my own pleasure aside to get himself off.

Kisses turn into nibbles, nibbles turn into bites, and bites turn into Wilbur fully sinking his teeth into my lower lip, muffling the moan that threatens to spill out. His hand slides from my waist to my chin, tilting my face into our slightly sloppy kiss.

“Still ok?” He whispers, pulling back for a moment to gaze in my eyes. “I’m not hurting you?”

I shake my head, pecking him on the mouth. “Quite the opposite. You’re quite adept with that cock of yours.”

Laughing, Wilbur nibbles another hickey onto my neck. “I try my best, love.”

We stop talking for awhile after that, preferring to let our bodies do the talking.

“Oh, Wilbur, I’m close,” I cry out, knees shaking, nails digging into his back. I’m impressed how long we’ve both been lasting, but I’m not sure either of us can keep going forever. “Fuck.”

Wilbur groans, biting his lip with the effort to keep going for me. “Where… where can I cum?” He pants.

“Inside… please,” I manage to reply, almost screaming out as he reaches up and presses on my clit. I melt into the couch, tightening around him as my high slams into me, Wilbur right behind me a few seconds later, finishing deep inside me with a loud moan.

We’re both silent, panting in the aftermath, only being interrupted by the sudden beep of the oven timer.

“Pizza’s ready,” Wilbur deadpans, making me crack up. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” I sigh. “Cardio will do that to you.”

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wilbursprincess · 7 months

Note

Harvey fingering reader in the office? Maybe while Tim and blight are fighting again?

(I have a new obsession)

-✨

“Shhhh, Darling, Don’t Let Them Hear Us”

Sorrybur x Female Reader

Warnings: Semi-public, fingering

Combined your two Sorrybur asks for my own sake, ✨anon! The brainrot we’ve all been getting from these Sorry Boys videos, oh my. And all the people in my Discord going feral for the tie? You’re among obsessed friends, ✨anon.

Fic below cut!

“I’m going to get lunch,” Blight says loftily, shooting Tim a look. “Since I’ve been getting more sales, I deserve a longer break.”

Harvey just snorts, watching as Tim scowls and goes back to typing. “I don’t know why they didn’t accept the job of stapling,” he comments, shooting me a shy smile over the lid of his coffee cup.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the office, I’d started dating Harvey. We’d been keeping it quiet from everyone else, especially Blight, who wouldn’t hesitate to find a loophole in the office rules to break us up. Harvey was cute, funny, and genuinely one of the sweetest guys I’d dated, and we were planning to take our lunch break after everyone else to plan something for tonight.

“Hey, Tim?” Harvey asks. “We’re figuring out something here, it shouldn’t take long, but we need it to be quiet. I’ll give you 5 bucks for the vending machine if you take lunch now?”

Tim sighs. “10 bucks?”

“Deal,” Harvey replies, tossing some crinkled bills at Tim. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Whatever,” Tim grunts, pocketing the bills. “Maybe I’ll go make fun of Blight while he’s eating.”

The door into the break room shuts. Phil’s gone out with Ranthony for lunch, on the excuse that corporate’s paying, meaning Harvey and I are all alone.

“You’re welcome,” he says, eyes crinkling into a smile. “I didn’t want to wait to spend time with you.”

I blush a little, eyes darting to make sure the break room door is still shut before pecking him on the cheek. “Well, I’m flattered.”

He’d stayed over at my house last night, which wasn’t something I’d normally do this soon into a relationship. To be fair, it was an accident, and we hadn’t even had sex. I’d given him a handjob over his pants, and we both fell asleep while cuddling. Harvey had even apologized the next morning for falling asleep before he could repay me, but I told him I didn’t mind.

“I still feel bad for not returning the favor last night,” he admits, squeezing my hand. “I still want to.”

“Well, we can make plans for tonight-“

He shakes his head. “Now?”

“Now?”

“There’s nobody around, and it’s kind of hot to have to keep it a secret,” Harvey says, smirking. “And you are wearing a skirt.”

“If I drag my chair next to yours, it’ll look like we’re working on this alleged project,” I offer, heat pulsing between my thighs. “What do you say?”

Harvey looks over the moon. “Oh, fuck yes,”

We slide our chairs into position, making sure everything’s hidden under the desk. The raised voices of Blight and Tim seep through the break room door, and we both giggle.

“Now that’s a mood killer,” Harvey comments, making me laugh even harder. “Luckily, it’ll keep them busy.”

His fingers brush over the front of my panties, and I shiver.

“You’re sensitive, huh?“ His voice is barely a whisper in my ear.

I nod slightly, letting out a minuscule groan as he strokes my clit through the fabric. He has incredibly talented fingers, long ones at that, and it’s not long before I’m shaky, sweaty, and my panties are soaked.

Just as his fingers slip inside me, the break room door snaps open, both Blight and Tim storming out, clearly furious with each other.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper in Harvey’s ear, and he nods, pumping his fingers in and out of me, coughing to hide the noise.

“Harvey! He put my stapler in Jello!” Blight whines, staring at Tim who’s looking innocent. “Tell him to stop it!”

He circles his fingers around my most sensitive spot, and I have to pick up his coffee to hide my moan.

Snorting, Harvey shakes his head. “Blight, man, take it up with Tim, not me. I’m busy.”

“It doesn’t look like your busy,” he pouts. “Looks like you’re trying to chat her up.”

I hold up the report I was working on a few hours earlier. “Is this considered ‘chatting up’, Blight?”

Tim snorts. “Yea, Blight, you’re just saying that because you’re jealous Harvey gets bitches-“

“Tim! Language!” Blight snaps, and the two of them start yelling at each other again.

Through the yelling, Harvey’s fingers are sending me floating on cloud nine, and it’s impossible not to let at least something slip. I pretend to peer over his shoulder at his computer, letting out a whine in his ear.

“I know, baby, I know,” he replies, speeding up his fingers. “Shhh, darling, don’t let them hear us.”

I bite my tongue and swallow down a groan, hips shifting to ride on his very adept fingers. Middle and index inside me, thumb on my clit, and a few seconds later, I shudder and soak his fingers.

“Good girl,” he breathes in my ear, moving his hand to his mouth and making sure nobody’s watching before he licks it clean. “I’d like to do this again with my cock, not my fingers, if you’re free after work?”

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