#but i feel like it's too crazy and may only see the light of day in my drafts/notes
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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 2 years ago
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i just wanted to come on here and cause some chaos for me, myself, and i--because i’m most likely the only one who cares; the mockumentary fic was actually a toss up between two ideas. idea one is what i’ve shown and have been writing with the ministry background. idea two, however, was centered around the triwizard tournament and tom would be a champion from durmstrang or something and drama happens (stupid drama that i still think would be extremely funny) and harry ends up as the hogwarts champion. at some point it’s very well known that harry and tom have instant hatred for each other, but everyone is confident it’s because they are just stupidly attracted to each other and don’t realise it. the mockmentary simply becomes a ‘how long until harry and tom figure out they have the hots for each other and need to bang like rabbits before the sexual tension kills everyone in hogwarts including the international delegates’
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leyiorr · 5 months ago
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i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!
mdni.
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satoru gojo is doomed.
why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.
crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.
of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.
you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.
he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.
more.
that's right, you were more.
recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.
surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.
he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.
so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.
it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?
his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-
“satoru?”
his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.
“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.
what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-
“satoru!”
he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.
it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.
the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.
(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)
he should be neutered. effective immediately.
it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:
“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-
“...is that it?”
and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?
he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.
yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.
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adieutristana · 2 months ago
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love languages; arcane women x fem! reader
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heeeyyy guys... my birthday is in exactly 6 days (the 16th) just thought you should know
summary: headcanons of how arcane characters express all five love languages.
characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, maddie, lest.
tags/warnings: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, mentions of poor mental health, smoking mention, maaaaybe the slightest bit suggestive?, just a lot of fluff
men and minors dni.
jinx;
✧.* words of affirmation; jinx is not good with words, she never has been. trying to rationalize her feelings with words seems next to impossible for the girl, but she’ll still try. at first, it starts with little compliments in passing. “you’re so beautiful, toots…” she’ll whisper, or, “you make things a lot less boring around here.” but over time, it’ll grow into jinx assuring you how much she loves you. that you make her happy, because she sees how happy it makes you to hear that.
“i love you a lot, sugar, don’t forget that!” she’d say, a goofy grin on her face. “y’know how to make a girl happy, that’s for sure.”
✧.* quality time; quality time is probably one of jinx’s strongest love languages, next to gift giving. she wants to include you in absolutely everything she does. whether that be dragging you along to run errands (for bomb supplies or stolen goods) with her, watching her tinker, tagging walls in the undercity together, or simply enjoying each others’ presence while eating, jinx loves it. she loves every second she gets with you, it helps keep her grounded. the voices grow quieter, her demeanor visibly shifts, and you can see little hints of powder coming out.
✧.* physical touch; jinx is extremely touch-starved at the beginning of your relationship. not only that, but she’s a bit fearful of touch. you do have to ease her into being okay with the idea of being touched with light squeezes on the shoulder, hugs that seem too short, and soft kisses to her hands. but over time, jinx grows to love physical touch. kissing your shoulders, neck, forehead, temples, anywhere. falling asleep on top of you. placing you in her lap no matter how tall you are. jinx grows to love the proximity.
✧.* acts of service; jinx likes to try and do favors for you, but she kind of… messes them up? unintentionally, of course. but if you ask her to run errands for her, you’ll have to be very specific about you want because she might accidentally pick up the wrong thing, and also specify that you’d like her to pay for it. she also may want to cook for you, but jinx should not be trusted in a kitchen. overall, jinx does enjoy trying to do little acts of service for you! but in her own way.
✧.* gift giving; gift giving is probably jinx’s strongest love language. she hand makes all of her bombs and gadgets, so naturally, she’d hand make gifts for her girlfriend! she’ll make you crude stick-figure drawings of the two of you with little hearts around them, smoke bombs in your favorite colors, and charm necklaces out of scrap metal. putting her time and energy into making things for you is jinx’s ultimate showcase of her love. she prides herself on her creations!
“look! i made this!” jinx would beam, dropping a piece of jewelry into your lap. a charm bracelet filled with little trinkets she crafted and a matching necklace. “isn’t it neat?! do you like it?”
vi;
✧.* words of affirmation; although vi isn’t always the best with words, she does truly value words of affirmation. to her, actions speak louder than words, but words can do a hell of a job, too. she’ll tell you again and again just how much she loves you. complimenting you, using one of her millions of pet names for you, letting you know how crazy she is for you.
“i can’t go a second without thinking about you, cupcake. you know that? don’t ever think that you’re not important to me, because truth be told, i’m crazy about you. i always will be.”
✧.* quality time; vi loves any moment she gets with you. whether that be time spent laughing over cheesy jokes in the last drop, playfully sparring with you, or naps curled into each other, vi can’t get enough. she’d show up at your door unannounced, asking if she can come in because she misses you despite seeing you the day prior (and the day before that.) she does enjoy her alone time as well, so she won’t be attached to you at the hip necessarily, but vi does enjoy her time with you. she’s at her happiest when she’s with her girlfriend.
✧.* physical touch; vi is a sucker for physical touch. it’s probably her strongest love language. vi always has to be touching you somehow- it’s both her love for you and her protective nature. an arm around you, hand resting firmly on your waist. snaking her arms around you from behind with a hum. kisses peppered all over your face as she drinks in the sound of your giggles. putting her hand atop yours when sat together. pressing you flush against her chest during late night cuddles. sleeping with her face in the crook of your neck and using her calloused fingers to draw little shapes into your bare back or arms. it’s all just so addictive to vi.
“hm…” vi would hum, using the pad of her thumbs to trace little stars and hearts into the skin of your lower back. laying her head on your shoulder, pink locks tickling your neck. “you’re so soft. so warm.”
✧.* acts of service; vi does everything she can to make your life easier. she’d slip your shoes on for you and buy all of your groceries and carry you out of bed every morning just to save the hassle if you’d allow her, but she settles for making you meals and doing little favors for you. i think vi can actually cook fairly well- she did have to look after powder for so many years. she’ll make you breakfast at least twice a week, she’ll put away your laundry after a particularly long day, and run errands for you. she’ll always return with a cheesy grin on her face. vi enjoys it, she both feels useful and gets to see her girl happy. it’s a win-win.
✧.* gift giving; i honestly can’t see vi caring much for gift giving. but if she does, she’d give you things she knows can be practical in daily life. household supplies, food ingredients, and replacements for broken appliances. it’s not that she doesn’t see the point in gift-giving, it’s just that vi doesn’t want to be wasteful- mostly due to her upbringing. she doesn’t see the use for having more than she needs, so she’d probably apply that same logic to giving gifts.
mel;
✧.* words of affirmation; mel is so good when it comes to communication, and by extension, words of affirmation. the councilwoman is always telling you how important you are to her, how beautiful you are, how happy you make her. the fact that she can’t imagine a life without you. you are her sun, her sky, her galaxy. mel knows exactly how to use her words to make you feel loved.
“i waited all day to see you, dearest…” mel would whisper, her soft hand tracing your cheek and coming up to cup it. running the pad of her thumb across your cheek so gently. “the council can be so dull. i couldn’t take my mind off of you, truth be told. you just motivate me to keep going- you’ll always be waiting for me.”
✧.* quality time; mel doesn’t necessarily have much time to spare. being caught up with the council, her own family affairs, and being something of a socialite, mel is frequently busy. but that makes the time she does get alone with you so much more valuable. she’ll have you by her side while doing last-minute paperwork, drag out mornings so she can get just a few more minutes with you, clinging to any little moment she gets. mel also enjoys including you where she can, so she’ll take you to galas and meetings that’ll allow guests.
✧.* physical touch; mel cannot get enough of physical touch. she has the restraint of a warrior, otherwise she would be touching you somehow 24/7. she loves to loop your arm around hers, elbows linked, she loves to nuzzle into the crook of your neck or interlace your fingers. she loves kissing- probably her favorite form of physical touch. there’s very little mel loves more than your lips on hers, her lips on your temples, her lips trailing up your arm to meet your shoulder, then up your neck and to your lips. leaving a trail of glittering lipstick the whole way. she craves the proximity, the warmth, the companionship. she also loves sharing a bed with you. she doesn’t mind being the big or little spoon, as long as she gets to be close to you somehow. clinging to you or vice versa while sleeping makes mel melt.
✧.* acts of service; mel tries to help you with things around the house and run errands for you, but she’s usually the one who needs favors. that’s not to say that she won’t fold your laundry if you ask her to or help you wash your hair, but she’s usually caught up with what she has to do and what she needs help with. when it comes to acts of service, mel is usually on the receiving end.
✧.* gift giving; gods help you, mel will spoil you rotten with gifts. it’s not only because she’s incredibly wealthy and luxury goods won’t put a dent in her account, but just because she loves seeing your expression when she presents you with something she knows you’ve been looking at. she gives the best gifts and goes above and beyond. if you mentioned needing a hair dryer, she’ll get you one- as well as a bunch of different diffusers, different types of brushes or combs, and hair treatments. if you’re walking down a street and stare at something in a shop window for a little too long, mel takes a mental note. the next time you see each other, she has the item you were looking at in her hands. jewelry, knick-knacks, sweets, and new clothing are her favorite things to gift you.
“mel, you really didn’t have to.” you’d whisper, holding a pair of brand-new golden hoop earrings, in the shape of stars. “nonsense. you had your eyes on them, so you naturally had to have them.”
sevika;
✧.* words of affirmation; sevika is not good with words. she’s not good at being vulnerable. so words of affirmation are definitely something that she struggles with. she’ll comfort you, she’ll reassure you, and she’ll be a shoulder for you to cry on, but talking about her own feelings is just… difficult for sevika. regardless, she’ll try.
“look. i don’t do this… i don’t know how to.” sevika would whisper, looking… somewhere. not at you, it’s clear that she’s nervous. “i love you. i love you a lot.”
✧.* quality time; sevika loves her quality time with you. yes, she’s a busy woman, but she’ll still do her best to involve you in everything she can. running errands for silco, filling out piles of paperwork, late night games at the casino, etc. even if it’s something as simple as a smoke break outside, sevika wants you to be by her side (unless you have problems with that, then she doesn’t mind). she’ll do the same for you, of course. she wants to be involved however she can be, so even if you’re doing something as mundane as picking up a prescription, sevika wants to be there with you!
✧.* physical touch; sevika was very touch-starved before she met you. no time nor desire for relationships, the only companionship she had coming from zaun’s brothel. so now, she’ll rest your head on her shoulder, sit you on her lap, squeeze your shoulder in reassurance, have a hand on your thigh… sevika craves that contact. now that she has it, she has you, she can’t get enough of touching you one way or the other.
“hey, babe? i’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to fill out.” sevika would call out to you. it’s clear that she’s annoyed, so why is she calling on you? “come sit in my lap. make it more bearable.”
✧.* acts of service; sevika’s strongest love language. her name means ‘servant of god,’ after all. fiercely loyal to silco for years, and now fiercely loyal to you. she will do absolutely anything she can to make things easier, to make you happy. she’ll clean for you, zip up your clothes, braid your hair when you don’t feel like it, clasp necklaces, run grocery trips when you’re too tired to do it yourself, the whole nine yards. sevika likes to feel needed, so the second you mention needing to do something, she’s on it. you could say you had food that needed taking out of the oven, and she’d bolt to get it for you- despite the fact that you didn’t technically ask her to do anything.
✧.* gift-giving; i think that like vi, sevika wouldn’t be crazy about gift-giving and would prefer practical gifts. however, when she does give you gifts, they’re usually custom. handmade by herself or a professional in zaun. this way, sevika feels like it’s more personal, more intimate, unique to you. she at one point gifted you a custom leather bracelet with intricate engravings, and has also given you carefully crafted tote bags when she notices your own are getting worn down.
maddie;
✧.* words of affirmation; i feel like maddie would be pretty good at words of affirmation! she’s open about her feelings and her love for you. she likes to be a comforting presence for you, so words of affirmation come naturally to her. sometimes she goes a little overboard and can be a bit too forthcoming with her feelings, but it all comes from a place of love.
“i love you a lot, you know that?” maddie would ask, her lips pursing. “sometimes too much, i think. i’d keep you here to keep you out of harm’s way forever if i could.”
✧.* quality time; maddie just doesn’t have much time to spare, unfortunately. being an enforcer is time-consuming as is, but being a junior officer means hours of training, volunteering, and education. maddie can’t give you much of her time, but when she can, she makes it worth it! she’ll take you all around piltover and tell you what kinds of things she’s done in what spots, let you do (what you can with) her hair, and use her brand-new, shiny camera to take lots of photos with you. making those memories and saving them in photo form is important to maddie, seeing as she doesn’t get many opportunities to do this kind of thing. i think she’d be the type to keep a photo of you in her wallet for when she goes on dangerous missions.
✧.* physical touch; maddie loves physical touch! she’s very playful and lively, very spontaneous. she likes to keep you on your toes. giggling while snuggling you, tickling your sides, wrapping her arms around you from behind to purposely startle you. she’ll tease you, pepper kisses all over your face… maddie just finds you adorable and can’t help herself when it comes to physical affection.
“behind you! oh, sorry, did i scare you?” maddie would ask with a giggle. “aw, you’re just so cute. i can’t not hug you.”
✧.* acts of service; as an enforcer, the majority of maddie’s life is service already. she enjoys being able to help you! however, she needs to be asked to do things, as she doesn’t want to take the initiative and accidentally mess things up. as long as you actually verbalize what you need- little favors and help, maddie will gladly be of service to you. she just doesn’t want to overstep and doesn’t want to accidentally do something that does she opposite of helping you.
✧.* gift giving; maddie enjoys giving you gifts, but they’re all bought and rather small because of her time constraints. they are thoughtful, though, and with each gift comes a very sweet card! written in neat penmanship, both sides of the card covered in her adoration for you. maddie would likely give you things like jewelry, candles, sweets, blankets, and weather-appropriate clothing.
lest;
✧.* words of affirmation; lest is great when it comes to words of affirmation. half of her job is speaking to clients and putting their nerves to rest. so doing the same to her girlfriend comes naturally to lest. her voice is always so soothing, her tone soft and sweet. it’s a talent of lest’s, always knowing exactly what to say at exactly what moment.
“don’t forget that i love you,” she’d purr, her lips close to your ear and soft eyes slipping shut. “i miss you each day i’m away from you, only hope to be with you sooner each passing second. i treasure moments like this, where you’re right here.”
✧.* quality time; lest unfortunately doesn’t have much time to spare, but her schedule is more flexible than someone like mel’s or maddie’s. if she really wants the time off, she can take it, and sometimes she does just that. you’d be surprised to see lest home so soon, but she’d just assure you that everything at work was taken care of, her clients and coworkers would be just fine. you were more important. much of what lest enjoys doing with you is in silence and relaxing together. she enjoys being able to curl up next to you with a book, or doing her nightly self-maintenance by your side.
“stay here with me, hm? i’m almost finished reading this… you help me focus.”
✧.* physical touch; lest loves and values physical touch with you. she prefers to be gentle and soft with you as she can take her time, truly savor and enjoy her time with you. but she’ll tell you exactly what she wants. whether she wants you to hold her, whether she wants to cradle your face and kiss you, hold your hands in hers, she’s very upfront and clear. lest adores the proximity, and she very often (literally) is purring while she’s curled up with her head in your lap. it’s endearing.
✧.* acts of service; lest’s entire job is made up of acts of service. so this does translate into your relationship. she loves taking care of you more than anything. let her detangle your hair after washing it, let her give you a warm bath, let her lay you on your lap and whisper sweet nothings to you as you’re pulled into sleep. let her adorn you with her own jewelry and paint your nails. lest enjoys being able to help you relax and unwind, especially after particularly taxing days. knowing that she can have that effect on you makes lest feel both needed, and significant.
✧.* gift giving; lest is very good at giving gifts. she knows some of the finest craftsmen in piltover, and she’s always able to give you something completely unique to you. most of the time it’s some kind of incense, fragrance, or jewelry, as is fitting for lest. scarves made by the same people who crafted hers, and earrings by some of the most experienced metal smiths. but she also is the type of person to buy everything you touch at the store simply because she saw that you were interested in it. that is if you let her, of course.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 9 months ago
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my aphrodite
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words: 900
warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, husband!rafe, pregnant!reader, pregnancy sex but not really pregnancy kink, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, brief mentions of issues with pregnancy (just at the very beginning, its rafes anxiety)
“oh thank god you're home.” you rush up to rafe the second the front door shuts behind him.
“what's wrong?” rafe asks, eyes widening, thoughts immediately shifting to what could possibly be the problem. “is it the baby? are you bleeding?” 
rafe reaches for your stomach, looking over your body.
“god, nothing like that.” you shake your head. “the baby is fine im not fine though.” before rafe can interrupt you, you quickly continue. “im so horny, babe. like so fucking horny. my hormones are- god, like im already wet just from seeing you i need you to fuck me.”
“jesus.” rafe presses a hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. “yeah, of course, let's go upstairs.”
“too far.” you grasp rafes hand, tugging him into the kitchen. you lean over the counter and flip up the bottom of your maternity dress, showing off your already bare and wet pussy.
“jesus.” rafe says again, this time his tone light as he laughs. “you really are needy.”
“do something. do something, im going crazy.” you plead, arms resting on the countertop.
your head drops to the cold marble as rafe gets down on his knees behind you, pressing his face between the opening of your thighs.
“oh, fuck.” you moan out as rafes mouth meets your pussy, smearing your juices across his chin as he eats you out.
what you can't see is rafe pulling his cock out of his pants, stroking himself to hardness just from your taste on his tongue.
rafe turns his attention to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue around it in wide circles before closing in, pressing kisses to your most sensitive part.
“more.” you beg, and rafe is quick to listen as he sucks your clit into his mouth, both hands coming to hold your thighs now that he's sufficiently hard.
you let out a satisfied moan, glad to finally have rafes attention where youve been craving it all day, but it isn't what you truly want.
“fuck me. need your cock, rafey. need it so bad. want you to put another baby in me.” you whine out, knowing while it may not be possible, you need to be filled with him in every way possible.
rafe stands quickly, scrambling to his feet as he pushes his cock into you, moaning when he sinks into your wetness, soft and open for him as he immediately begins to push his hips forward into you.
“god, finally.” you squeal.
“next time just call me, ill come home from work to fuck you.” rafe laughs, watching the way your hands are gripping the marble, trying to find something to hold but only finding the smooth surface.
“maybe ill just tell the secretary im bringing you in lunch and you can fuck me in your office.” you laugh airly.
“except we both know you can't be quiet.” rafe grunts as he speeds his hips up to keep you satisfied.
“mhm exactly.” you smile, looking back over your shoulder at rafe. “remind everyone in your office that you're mine.”
rafe just nods. he knows no one has forgotten, not when you come in every other day to drop him off lunch, telling him how bored you are when he's not home and how much you desperately miss him.
you keep your head turned as rafe unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pushing forward as he lets the fabric fall from his shoulders, revealing his sculpted torso.
“you're like a damn greek god.” you moan out, finding your husband even more attractive now that you're pregnant with his baby, something you didn't even realize was possible.
“then you're my aphrodite.” rafe bends over your back, pressing a kiss to your lips that you graciously accept.
you let out a whine when he pulls away, only for rafe to quickly maneuver you, flipping you over and picking you up so you're sat on the countertop.
“need to keep kissing you.” rafe says, grabbing his cock and realigning himself with your pussy as his mouth dominates yours.
“god, yes.” you whine, pressing yourself as close to rafe as you can with your pregnant belly, hips at the very edge of the marble slab.
rafe takes over your entire body, pushing into your pussy while his mouth leaves you with no other room to think about anything other than him.
“i love you baby.” rafe moans, barely pulling his mouth away to talk. “you're so beautiful.”
“cum in me.” you whine. “please, need it.”
“yeah, i got you.” rafe grunts, putting all his focus into pressing inside of you, determined to make you cum.
he sighs with relief when he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as your high hits, entire body shuddering with pleasure as rafe allows the wall to fall as he moans out your name and cums inside of you.
“fuck! baby!” rafe shouts, pushing as deep inside of you as he can, it's not like he needs to worry about getting you pregnant when you're already filled with his baby.
“ah, shit.” you whine, laying back against the countertop, splayed out, maternity dress still pushes up, showing off your belly and dripping pussy as rafe carefully pulls out.
“come on, let's get you in the bath.” rafe scoops you up in his arms, biceps bulging as he carries you up the stairs.
“remember, no hot water.” you hum as rafe sets you down in the chair he dragged into the bathroom just for you, not wanting you to have to stand while doing your makeup or brushing your teeth.
“i know.” rafe laughs softly, having learned everything about pregnancy in order to help you. he leans down over the chair, hands on either arm. “but thanks for the reminder, beautiful.”
you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into another kiss. the bath will have to wait.
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chisatowo · 2 years ago
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Rotates Wendy gender moments in my head at rapid speeds
#rat rambles#I feel like I need a tag at this point but like wtf would I make it fucking starve posting??? together posting???? like idk man#I should just make it wendy posting /j#idk Ill get back to it#anyways just thinking abt him after warly joins the group having like two seperate spirals one over the inability to accept any sense of#comfort or normality after getting so used to just the fight for the next day that any change from that feels terrifying#and the other is that the surrounding of ppl that tend to gender him pretty regularly is finally making him start to crack#and he sees the latter as the bigger deal since hes convinced himself of like a billion different reasons its not ok fjdhfbfhf#I have like a whole mini story in my mind where he impulsively goes off on his own after getting too overwlemed by all of this and just#wants to get away from everyonr for a while but walter turns up and doesnt read the room so now theyre on a semi unwanted roadtrip together#wendy wishes he only let him stay because of abby but alas he helps him stay sane too so whatever#its just wendy being like there is no light in my life except abigail and then seeing a spider and being like I miss webber :(#and walter is just being walter but also kind of having his own lil everything sinking in crisis but like hes. attempting to cope. ish.#as in hes kind of doing everything in his power to just not think abt it which is why he himself headed off on his own lil trip#and back home webber and the others are probably very worried rip#oh also abby is having a bit of a Moment too but mostly outside of wendy's pov (aka when hes asleep)#also yeah I may or may not have like. quite a bit in my head for abby character stuff. it may or may not be a problem.#mostly just her being a very social person who cant properly talk to anyone but wendy most of the time and it driving her kinda crazy#along with her not quite wanting to grapple with the fuzz in her head that is the time between her death and her and wendy coming to the#constant and also the fact that shes well. dead.#its a lot easier to not think abt it too hard when shes able to busy herself well enough but with wendy being more out of it and abby not#being quite able to focus herself fully on helping him since she wants to wait for him to cool off a lil first#it leaves her with a lot more time to like. notice things.#like how wendy's face has changed slightly. or how hes nearly lost all of his baby teeth by now. or how his hair seems to be getting darker#just small changes that she hast experienced. that she'll never experience.#she doesnt like thinking abt that kind of stuff and as such attempts to use walter for distraction with mixed results#its just them trying to find ways to communicate in a very hopeful and earnest manner and then like an hour later theyre just head in hands#sitting by the camp fire trying not to cry while wendy twitches violently in his sleep and snores loudly#just 3 kids on the verge of a breakdown camping in the woods what could possibly go wrong
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dreamingonfilm · 2 years ago
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✧˖*°࿐ Love Letters | d.m
Draco Malfoy x f!reader, fluff
Summary: In which Draco tries to find the girl who sends him love letters, unaware to the fact that it’s you.
W/C: 1.5k
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Draco’s fingers traced over the writing on the pink envelope once again. His mind was not able to rest as he tried to piece together who left the note on his bedside in the middle of the night. Delicately opening it once more, he reread the words inside;
Draco, 
I hope you can learn to see yourself the way that I see you, with love and acceptance. You are what makes everyday worth it. Constellations are named after you, and each day I can’t help but to be thankful for the sun breathing on you once more. You are my light.
He carefully closed the envelope and placed it inside his bag. ‘They like me.’ the boy thought to himself, ‘someone actually likes me.’ 
It’s not that the boy was a stranger when it comes to love, but never once has he been perceived as something more than what he truly is. He’s always been Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy throne, son of Lucius, and most importantly a Slytherin. For this reason, he constantly rejected any advances that came from the female students around him. While his rejections came off as rude and cold-hearted, the other students failed to see that Draco, just like everyone else around him, was human too. He was scared of being hurt by the one feeling that he craved the most. 
The walk to class was almost unbearable, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He wanted to know the poet behind those beautiful words, the ones that kept repeating over and over in his head as he tried stirring potions or taking notes. You are what makes everyday worth it. He became hyper aware of his surroundings, assuming that he would know when he sees her, but he failed to realize that she was not someone that could be so easily spotted. She came exactly when you needed her to, not by desire alone.
—-
“Draco,” his friend Blaise called to him, “focus.”
“Oh, right.” Draco replied, trying to get his thoughts together as he walked back to his seat. It was the middle of the school week and his mind was only getting more crowded with the thoughts of her. As he sat back down, his friends swarmed him with questions as to what it was that he smelled in his amortentia, assuming that this would be the first step to finding her.
“I can’t describe it.” He sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair in defeat. “She has me going crazy and I don’t even know her.” 
“Well,” Pansy spoke up, “I suggest maybe moving on? I mean, if she wants to be anonymous it may be for a reason. Plus, you have hundreds of other girls that would kill to be with you, Draco. Maybe try your luck somewhere else.” She flashed him a sincere smile before going in to hold his hand, but her efforts were cut short as the boy suddenly stood up. 
“I don’t want to be with anyone unless it’s her.” He sneered, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading straight to the door. He said a hushed goodbye to his friends before exiting into the crowded hall.
Why couldn’t his friends see that he didn’t want anyone else? He didn’t care about her wealth, status, or looks, all that he wanted was someone that could love him in full. Love him in a way that can’t be tamed, a love that lives long after they do. This was something that he knew he wasn’t going to find any time soon, for as long as he was at Hogwarts he could only be Draco Malfoy.
His hopes were on her.
He walked through the hall, pushing through students that stood in his way as he asserted dominance with a ray of confidence and high ego. Students glared at him but none had the guts to say anything, this fear that Draco instilled was not one that was going to go away any time soon. It was one that he brought upon himself and now had to live with. Somewhere in between his daydreams and the crowded corridor, he felt someone bump into him. Their shoulders collided as his books fell to the floor. The stranger mumbled a quick apology before running off.
In the midst of his anger, he froze. He smelt it. That same scent that clouded him only a few minutes before. There it was, it was her, but just as quickly as he smelled it, she was gone. Only seeing her hair as she turned at the corner of the hallway. 
He quickly got up and chased after her, pushing and shoving anyone that got in his way. This was his chance, he was finally going to meet the girl that’s been making him mad, the one that he’s been dreaming of. His heart was pounding as he ran faster and faster down the hall, students staring at him in confusion as he was passing them by, quills and journals flying out of his bag –  but he didn't care, he couldn’t let her get away.
Once he turned the corner, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His heart crushed as he stared into the empty hallway.
—- 
Two weeks have passed since the day that Draco and her collided. He sat in his bed, holding a brand new letter. The same shade of pink as the one before, with the handwriting that he’s fallen in love with. 
“Draco, 
I’m sorry for not writing to you. I’ve been thinking of you every day, and I just can’t bear to keep dreaming of you without letting you know that I’m sorry for bumping into you in the hallway. The truth is, I’m scared, Draco.
I’m scared you aren’t going to like me for who I am. I’m scared that writing to you was a mistake. I’m scared that the only way you will ever see me is through these letters. I see you every day, why can’t you see me? 
You’re always in my heart, shining above me every night, my constellation. If we remain strangers forever, just know that I’ve never come to love someone like how I love you.”
He was getting restless. Constant possibilities of who it could be running through him, he even considered the possibility that this could be a prank, but no amount of doubt could prevent him from finding her, his hope overpowered all the fear that he had.
Draco sat up once more and started getting ready for dinner. Brushing his hair and straightening out his tie, he needed to look presentable for the off chance that he could be meeting her today. 
He headed down into the Great Hall and that’s when he saw it. A pink envelope in the hands of a girl he’s never talked to, but not just any girl, it was you.
He shouted out into the void, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Hey wait!” he called out, as you quickly grabbed your things and ran off once more. He couldn’t see you like this, it wasn’t the right time. Your face flushed red as you ran, your breathing quickening as your legs started to grow tired, but you could not let him find you. 
Draco chased after you, he was only a few feet behind but with enough determination you knew you could lose him. As you sprinted through the maze of halls, you started to grow light headed, you knew that if you didn’t stop soon you would faint. 
But it’s not the right time 
You stopped in front of a random classroom, rushing to open the door before he could catch up to you, but it was too late. He crashed into you, both of you falling to the ground with a loud thump, his hands landing on either sides of you as you laid in between him.
He finally found you. 
“Who are you?” He asked, not wasting any more time to get to know the girl who stole his heart. You stared into his eyes, feeling a frog in your throat as you mustered up the courage to finally talk to him.
“M-my name is (Y/N).” You whispered, neither of you breaking eye contact. He smiled, grabbing hold of your hands as he went to pick you both up. You were both nervous, too scared of saying the wrong things, but wanting to say them all regardless.
“(Y/N),” he repeated, looking at you with a face full of love and adoration, “I’m Draco.” 
He brushed your hair with his fingers and went to pat the dust off your shoulders. You didn’t know what to say or do, but you didn’t have to.
This was the right time.
 “Come along then (Y/N),” Draco smiled, interlocking his hand in yours before leading you back down to the Great Hall, “we have a lot of catching up to do.”
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We meet again | In-ho x Fem!Reader | PT4
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Summary: It was only one night for fun, you never thought you would see him again. Even less in a place like this one.
P1 P2 P3 END
Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Canon violence - Pregnant!Reader - Non canon background for In-ho - Use of (Y/N) - Heavy Angst - Protective!In-ho - Panic!Reader - grammar mistakes -
"You must be joking" Were your first words after listening to Gi-hun's plan. "Do you even know how many guards are out there? Or how prepared they are?"
After another round of voting things had ended in a tie. Not much time after it a fight had occurred inside the men bathroom. Gi-hun had said how most likely the ones who voted circles would attack the X group during lights out.
And while it scared you to no end, specially for your dear baby, his plan was still something your mind could not get. If they had all the power to make so many peopel vanish and also kill them off like it was nothing...what chance did they had against them?
In-ho who knew very well how much that plan would fail (even if he was not inside the games) was only worried over you.
Since the talk during the last game he had got protective. He was by your side, making you be behind him and having a protective grio on your arm or hand.
The rest did notice but no one commented a thing, besides it would only make the athmosphere uncomfortable.
Jun-hee was the only one who had asked you during one go to the restroom. She was not judging, her own baby's father was here after all. She was just curious on what was the story of you two. Why you two seemed to be so apart at the start and now were close.
"Its almost a story you would read on a book" Jun-hee said as you cleaned your hands and laughted.
"Barely, it all started as a one night thing. Then I was so stupid that I forgot the pill. We did not see each other for months and now...we are here"
"But he cares. He cares so much. Really I can see it on how he looks at you!! Even before the migle game"
"Yeah...I do care for him too. I want us to get out and try to live together or be a real couple..."
"Well, we may be able to leave but the plan of Seong..."
"Its crazy. We wont make it. I- I cant even help them"
"I cant either, only thing I can do its hide once the lights go off" Jun-hee tried to make you feel better. "Its better like that, we need to think not only for ourselfs but our babys"
"You are right, but Jun-ho wants to help..."
"You are worried for him" She indicated "Thats cute"
"And a pain, I wish he would have said no to that plan"
"Maybe he is thinking in you and the baby. Maybe he wants to leave really badly and sees no other way out"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once you two returned the place seemed to be under lots of pressure. There was a tension, how some circles would look at Xs and back. It was unnerving and maybe even worse than the games themselfs.
"Can we talk?" In-ho came towards you "Alone" He added seeing Jun-hee besides you who nodded and went with the rest of the group.
In-ho moved so you two were away from everybody.
"Its this about Gi-hun's plan?" You asked and he nodded.
"Yes, it is. You should hide when the lights go off and not participate when we go for the guns" In-ho said in a serious tone. Even if the guards would never (if they liked their lives) put a hand on you unless he said so, the rest of the players were out of his control.
"I know, I cant do much anyways" You responded touching your belly "Why did you end saying yes ? We could win tomorrow ...."
In-ho took a deep breath. The reason were multiple ones. On one part this would be a good chance to get himself and you out from the games. If he did things right. And on other part he did not want to risk on tomorrow voting. Even if during the night Xs fought and lived nothing did for centrain said they would not vote circle next day.
"I believe in him" He lied "I understand its a dangerous move on our part, but I dont trust the others, not for tonight and not for tomorrow's voting"
You wanted to tell him to back off from it. You did not want to lose him in case the plan went wrong. But his next words shattered you.
"And I want you two out of here. Another game would cause you much stress, its not good for you our the baby...the little one has been strong so far but there is nothing like being safe and out of here"
When he said "little one" there was a small soft smile on his face, you could see how his hands wanted to reach and caress your belly once more but he held himself back.
"Hide well, I mean it. I dont trust any of them"
"I will, please dont worry about me"
Impossible. You and that baby are the most precious things to me right now.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
In-ho insisted on staying besides you when the lights went off. Just in case.
He had one hand wrapped around your waist and had pushed your head into his chest. He told you to close your eyes and ignore all of it, that if someone even dared to come near the bed where you two were hide then he would kill them. Of course he did not use these exact words in order not to scare you.
The screams of pain were terrible to hear, In-ho tried to shh you and tell you that it would soon end while also keeping a watchful eye.
Finally it was time, he kissed your cheeck on impulse and told you to not intervene. He went out just as the guards started to get inside the room.
You saw one coming towards him, but before it could even check the infamous chip inside his neck (as Gi-hun had explained earlier) he took them with force and in a clean move ended their life while also taking their gun.
The next was a small exchange of bullets and screams, the guards were finally leaving but one was left behind. Even if you saw them as nothing as monsters...their seemed scared.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Stay here, no matter what you hear. Stay here with Jun-hee. It will be safe" He assured you, like he knew more than what he was letting out.
"But what if you- what if something happens to you?" You asked him with tears already falling, not knowing that he would be safe.
It broke his heart to see you like that. So worried over him when there was nothing to be worried about. But he could not tell you, not here.
"Shh, I will be fine. I promise you" After a small pause he added "I promise both of you" His hand resting on your belly.
"In-ho, its time" Gi-hun said softly when he saw the exchange, part of him felt bad for interrumping the sweet moment. And was feeling guilty already, he knew he could not let In-ho die.
"Yes, on it"
"I love you, both of you" In-ho softly said finally leaving.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
The gunshots would be hear from the room, you flinched everytime, worried that one of these was mean for In-ho.
"Breath (Y/N)" Jun-hee reminded you when she saw you starting to panic. "They will be alright"
"Jun-hee...dont tell me things you can guarnate" You whispered hugging her and she just held you there. It was true, she could not be sure if they would make it.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
In his mind this part was supposed to be easy, trick Gi-hun into thinking that he and the rest had died. But it would mean making you believe that he was dead as well.
He pressed his lips on a thin line, worried over you and the baby. His little one. The only good thing was that he would be able to pull you out from the games but-
But you would have to believe that he was indeed dead.
"Take player 344 from the room, bring her to my room and call the Doctor too. Do not harm her" He ordered to one of his most trusted square guards.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Once more the guards entered, pulling everybody to their knees and demanding them to be under control.
You started to tremble not because of the imposed figure of a saqueare guard over you, saying something about you having to go back with them. Your mind was working on In-ho..was he? Was he really?
Jun-hee despite the protest of player 333 went towards you and the guard to try and keep you there saying how you had nothing to do with the attack. But the guard only pointed their gun to her, that broke your somehow dazed state.
"I will go, just let her be"
"No (Y/N)!" Jun-hee tried to go towards you but was held back by Player 333.
"Dont worry Jun-hee" You said giving her a sad smile.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
You had no idea where you were being taken. The guard did not say a word but also kept a slow peace like he was taking care over you.
You two made it a elevator, all black inside. The guard urged you inside and pushed some buttons till it started to move.
The doors opened revealing a dark corridor the guard guided you towards a big black door, he opened it revealing a big screen now turned off and a black couch. But there was another guard, however this was only had his face covered by the black fabric only his eyes were seen.
You took note of a few medical tools and you started to get nervous.
"Stay calm, I was told to check on your health and your baby, please sit here. We can move you to the bed to examine your baby"
Now you were confused, why check your health? What about Jun-hee?
"But there is another woman who-"
"I was only told to check on you. Please" He said tone incredible soft.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
After the examination the Guard (who told you he was a doctor) said that the baby was healthy, but that you needed rest and more food.
Both guards went to leave, but you stopped them.
"W-wait, im not going back?" You asked confused.
"Player 344, you have been eliminated from the games" Was the only response you got and were left alone in the dark room.
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
"Sir, player 344 has been examinated and left in your room" The guard said to their Boss who just nodded back.
"I will be there soon"
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
Hours passed, you were scared. You stayied on the bed, too tired to move, this bed was too confortable too, and after listening to the Doctor's words you imagined this was good for your baby.
Even if you still felt bad.
You had been crying for the last hours, not beliving that In-ho could be dead, no in fact part of you refused to believe it.
And Jun-hee your friend...the one who was in the same desesperated situation as you. You could not believe she was still there...
Outside the door stood In-ho in his Front Man clothes, he was scared of your reaction, would he tell you it was him ? What was he supposed to do ?
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~
The doors opened making a sound, you had fallend asleep after crying. One hand on your belly like you were protecting it even in your sleep.
In-ho felt his heart go down and up, the sight was...beautiful in a strange way. Why could things dont be easier? You could wait for him like this everyday, the three of you could live together and he would be such a good father.
His gloved hand went to touch your face, slowly tracing your cheeck. Your tears broke his heart.
Your eyes started to move, and he pushed himself away. Not wanting to scare you.
Once you finally woke up you saw a dark figured, a black mask, you moved away against the wall.
"W-who are you?" You tone was evident, you were scared and confused.
"Im the Front Man, player 344 you have been eliminated from the games and will be sent back"
"What? Wait, does this mean I-"
In-ho held up his hand dont wanting you to continue, things were already too difficult for him.
"Your situation was analyzed and so decided that you wont continue"
"But- there is another woman! Jun-hee, player 222, she needs to be out as well" You exclaimed getting up and going closer to him.
"Player 222 will continue in the games. Thats final"
"B-but why?"
"Should you not be happy for you and your baby?"
"Im, but im not a hearthless person, if I can get out because of my situation then she can too"
In-ho took a deep breath, he could not believe how even now you were thinking in others.
But he that was part of your charm as well...
"Its a final decision, besides you are soon to give birth. That was what the Doctor said, we cant let that happen in here"
Without thinking his gloved hand went to your belly, one more time, he needed to feel it just one more time-
"Dont touch me" You said in grith theeth taking his hand and pushing it away. In all honestly I hurted him more than any pain he had endured before.
"You are a monster, you- You keep the games going and let others die. You are nothing but a piece of shit"
In-ho knew you were nervous, scared, angry and much more. But your words cut deep, his soul breaking.
"You will be send back home soon. I recommend you dont try to talk about this to others. Nothing good will come from it" These were going to be his last words for you when he turned back.
"W-wait, player 001, In-ho...is he"
"Player 001 has been eliminated" Were his final words, he did not turn when he hear your cry, knowing he would not resist going back and comfort you.
No, instead he went away. Blocking your cries. Outside a guard stood still waiting for orders.
"Check on her, make sure she does not hurt herself and that she eats her food tonight. All of it"
A bittersweet goodbye
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
Final note: An epilogue will be out !! 💜
~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○
Tags:
@maria-trisha @blueyesuguru @imenekiki @victorie767 @futuristicdefendorfart @heyitsmefall
@love-you-louise @fantasylovestoryme @sleepyycatt @nightdark-dreamdark @lindsay00000 @ourlovesarang @smally97 @zigmasstuff @aleemendoz @the-disaster-in-waiting
@ilovequeen978 @sc4rrc @sylviavf @l4venderia @blueeclipsepaperstudent @annasnape7 @llawlietluv @florgenegrastuff @luv1ze @jspidey5
@moonoteru @saaraahnger @hope4rain19 @soniiyi @angelmoneter @skywalker0809 @ashsallyblue2 @realrintaro @bellstwd @tojisrealwifey @otterluver05 @yuan1819 @spanish-delulu-23 @lisaannwalterlover @yodayyy @tenzko @tinylawyerbluebird @istanstraykidss
I could not tag some of you 😔
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s-brant · 1 year ago
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Make It Better
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my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)
After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.
8k (18+)
Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.
-
For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.
With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.
The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.
She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.
How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?
"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."
She frowns at him.
"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.
She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."
The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.
It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.
After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."
With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.
"Okay, smileee—"
The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.
Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."
Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.
"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."
His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.
After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."
When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.
As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.
Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.
They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.
She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.
"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"
"But it wasn't every day!"
Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.
"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"
What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.
"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."
The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.
Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."
She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."
This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.
Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.
She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.
Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.
They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."
She nods.
"We can go to my house."
The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.
She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.
With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.
The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.
She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."
From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.
"What—"
The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.
Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.
Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.
A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.
"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."
When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.
"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."
The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.
He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.
His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—
"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."
She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.
"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"
The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.
"Is that okay?"
In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.
In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.
He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy.  Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.
Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.
But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.
In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.
The thought of it slows him down for a second.
That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.
"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.
The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.
His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.
The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.
The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.
Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."
This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.
"I didn't say anything."
She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"
At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.
Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.
"Connie..." she breathes out.
This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.
He asks, "You nervous?"
Words fail her. All she can do is nod.
"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."
To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.
"That's exactly why I'm nervous."
Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.
"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.
The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.
This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.
Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.
"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."
The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.
She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.
The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.
She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.
Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.
He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.
In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."
This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.
He has had his fair share of hook-ups—not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.
Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.
Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.
As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.
She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.
He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.
Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.
It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.
Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."
He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.
It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.
This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.
"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."
His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.
It was horrible.
It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.
It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.
Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.
"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.
He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.
Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."
The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.
She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.
His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.
"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."
That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.
With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.
With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.
The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.
It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.
Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.
"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.
The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.
Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?
Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.
Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"
Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.
The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.
Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.
He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.
For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.
Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.
He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."
The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.
Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.
"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."
He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.
"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."
She blinks at him.
"For what?"
His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.
"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."
The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.
"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."
He nods.
"I did."
There's a long pause, then—
She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.
As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."
He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.
"And probably clean that."
A giggle escapes her when he says this.
"Yeah, we definitely should."
-
Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.
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kyseya · 5 months ago
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Weston Callaghan
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(Yandere farmer x reader. He is from this fic)
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Age: 27
Appearance: Weston is a very tall and muscular man. His dark brown hair is cut short and reaches his ears. It’s often a bit messy since he doesn’t brush it or do anything besides wash when showering. He is a whooping 6’7(200 cm), this man is a beast, which isn’t such a surprise considering all the work he does daily. Weston also has a scar below his left eye, you can easily see the depth of the cut that caused it. It seems to be a miracle he didn’t lose his eyesight.
Personality: He is quite the simple man. He doesn’t require anything beyond the farm he lives on. It may be because of the upbringing he had, the one that didn’t allow greed of any kind, but he doesn’t have the energy to think about that. As the older one, he feels responsible for his younger brother. Naturally this meant he had to be the more mature one. Weston can usually be seen with a slight frown engraved on his face. It takes a lot to wipe it off. Despite his stoic nature, he can be incredibly sweet when he wants to. This is not shown through words but through his actions. It can be by helping you with any problem you might be having, bringing you a bouquet of hand-picked flowers or getting rid of any pests bothering you.
Likes & dislikes: he enjoys the light dawn brings and waking up early. In his youth, he absolutely despised it but now he likes the mornings. It’s peaceful and quiet, much like him, and you can enjoy nature in a calm demeanor. Coffe is something he also enjoys, which he drinks before setting out to do his morning chores. If you’re not an early bird like him, that’s fine. He doesn’t care about that stuff. As long as you don’t lay in bed doing nothing all the time. Although that may be more out of concern. Weston doesn’t like TV all that much. It’s because it reminds him of his parents and it makes him recoil in disgust. However much he dislikes it, the TV stays out since Lucas still enjoys sitting in front of it after a particularly hard day. If you like watching TV as well, then there is no way he could get rid of it even if he wanted to. The only exception of it being as a punishment. Even then he would throw it away, but just put it somewhere you can’t see, find or retrieve it.
Yandere tendencies: possesive and controlling. While he’s also protective of his loved one, it’s not nearly as much as his brother. Compared to him, Weston is more relaxed and doesn’t try to restrict his partner, so long they don’t travel outside the frames. If you do as he says and don’t question it too much, you’ll be fine! He will be content when you know who you belong to. He doesn’t pay attention to others so neither should you. Of course he’s not forbidding you to talk to other, no that’s be crazy, just don’t spend too much time with them or think about leaving him. Then he might have to come up with a solution; he is a good problem solver, always has been. He doesn’t want to keep you locked up inside the house, so don’t force him to make that choice, okay?
—-//////
(I don’t know anything about facial scars or eyes, so plz don’t come for me if it’s wrong)
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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago
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Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?
Hope you have a nice day
-🌸🦇
BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!
i’m actually really happy with how this turned out
warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read
5.1K words
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Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.
Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.
You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.
Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.
It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.
Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.
So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy
Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.
Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.
“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.
“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?
“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.
The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.
You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?
It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.
The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.
With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.
Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.
“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.
You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.
“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.
“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”
Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.
You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.
“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.
“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.
“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.
“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.
The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.
Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.
You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.
With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.
His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.
Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.
Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.
Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.
Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.
The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.
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arrenlebanen777 · 4 months ago
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS/ RANDOM EDITION +18
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♅ Im very impressed by the beauty of Cancer risings. ♅ And also very impressed by Cancer freakiness. ♅ Remember knowing astrology should be bonus since you can see hidden influences and energies that usually rules people uncounciously. ♅ Mars conjunct/parallel Daitarabochi(8551): Very violent person if its pushed, dark desires, attracted to taboo and dark things, and usually can be intimidating to a lot of people and if the person is not intimidating phisically it can be repulsive for some people. ♅ Mercury conjunct/parallel Daitarabochi(8551): The mind process is inmense, usually their minds can be scary sometimes, is the people you think are psycopaths but aren't, x-rays, sometimes suicide is always an option for these people, they can be perverse, and are a little bit crazy when they experience some kind of abuse, usually is kinda difficult to these people to see the light(metaphorically), always in dark places sometimes. ♅ Mars conjunct/parallel Heracles(5143): unshakable determination, tendency to seek out or attract situations that require strength and courage either in the external world or within, combative/ competitive attitude, the person might feel a strong need to prove their ability to overcome difficulties, Without realizing it, they constantly seek out difficult or challenging situations.
♅ Mars conjunct/parallel DANTE(2999): An extraordinary capacity for actions that others would deem extreme, brutal, or even "evil" in certain contexts. Their drive to act could be fueled by a deep connection to the darker side of existence. They are likely to pursue their goals with a disregard for conventional moral boundaries or concern for the suffering of others, potentially making them capable of cold, calculated actions. This individual may appear unstoppable or unyielding when going after what they want, with a natural affinity for crises, violence, or radical transformations. Tendency to confront the darkest aspects within partnerships and might be drawn to relationships that involve power struggles, control, or even transformative or traumatic experiences. They could be perceived as cold, distant, or ruthless, especially if they feel their authority or power is being challenged, (Very similar to Kenpachi Zaraki from Bleach). ♅ Ive seen some Scorpio Venus having hard times in matters related to love, since loyalty and fidelity are being so trampled on these days, they usually suffer the consequences of this and have a pretty bad time, I have seen that some opt for open relationships or even polyamory, but I know that deep down they only want one person with whom they can completely merge, which is also quite difficult in these times, I know.
♅ Usually in intimacy some planets or asteroids related to sexual things can be expressed on the oposite sign, for example: Eros in aries is more submissive in bed and Eros in libra is more dominant and agressive. ♅ Mars in capricorn: Can represent the devil himself sometimes, very materialistic, very rude and brute, sometimes they see people as obstacles, horny 24/7 but usually supressed 24/7 too due to the focus on their ambitions and goals, if they are not connected with their ambitions and purpose they can enter in very depressed states, very critical and demanding with themselves and with others too, strong endurance and stamina, sometimes they objectify their partners and they can generally resist more than others. ♅ I have seen many people who know almost nothing about astrology being Lilith dominant and I swear that when they are unconscious of this part of themselves they are usually quite narcissistic, violent, cold, calculating, manipulative and superficial since Lilith "remember" if is not conscious it always brings poison with her. ♅ Moon conjunct Chiron: Ive seen that this placement is very similar to Lilith conj moon but is sad, the mother usually is very negligent with the child, doesn't trust her, and the native of this position can be very naive about the mother's true intentions or the total opposite and not trust her at all. But i love them, they are so compassionate too, and this side is very beautiful.
♅Lust(4386) conjunct/parallel Moon: Constant desire for passion and pleasure, they feel drawn to situations or people that evoke deep emotional and sensual satisfaction, once they connect with you emotionally the seduce you almost completely, blurred line between emotional needs and physical impulses, rich inner world but it can be overwhelming at times, can be nymphomaniacs, they get depressed if they don't have someone they can have sex with constantly. ♅ Almost all anime villains that you see are the archetype of Lilith/Pluto dominant people.
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visionsofcarnality · 6 months ago
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can we get headcanons for gilf!Joel maybe? his slicked back hair in tlou ep3 stirred something in me 🥵🥵🥵
i like the way you think…
Silver Fox ! Joel Miller Headcanons NSFW!!
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Traditional old man in every sense of the word, he doesn’t make cheesy comments when you grab a door handle but he does give you a scolding little glare that totally doesn’t light a fire in your panties.
Self conscious about his somewhat saggy skin around his chest, middle, and extremities even after you’ve assured him until you’re blue in the face. You do help him though. Watching how attracted you are to his body even aged as it is definitely strokes his ego.
Has an online refillable prescription for Viagra that gets delivered to his apartment, and when he takes it he becomes an absolute fiend.
Usually without the Viagra he still is able to throughly satisfy you with ages of foreplay and a nice thorough fucking, leaving you both satisfied after one climactic round.
But when he takes Viagra-
You better clear your schedule and invest in a massage gun for your legs afterwards because you are going to be SORE.
I’m talking several positions, screaming until your throat hurts, your pussy feeling raw and used, daylong marathon sex.
Joel doesn’t seem to soften even a fraction until your body is wailing in protest and you can’t feel your thighs anymore.
You don’t think he could possibly have any more left in him until he’s once again emptying his heavy, full balls into your cunt; adding to the previous loads from the past six rounds he’s already shot into your body.
When he’s not fucking you stupid with the assistance of his little blue pills, he’s treating you like the princess you’d expect he would.
Don’t even think about carrying your own groceries, what are you, crazy?
Speaking of groceries…
If you aren’t living together yet best believe he’s on your doorstep every Sunday at 11AM with a truck full of groceries, dropping them off after church let’s out and he’s free to go to the store.
He makes you sit and continue sipping your coffee/tea while he puts them away, simultaneously checking the sell-by dates of everything in your fridge and pantry like a man obsessed.
Like a true old fashioned southern boy, he won’t tell you he’s in love with you. But he will point out the amount of things expired in your house.
“Come on, now. You’re gonna get sick, this is ridiculous-“ As if he hasn’t brought you your favorite brand of cereal and all your preferred snacks. Even all those “Shitty, organic, cardboard crap” things you love.
Never had a good plate of grits? He’s making them meticulously for you the morning after a hookup. “Eat, you need it. That stuff’ll keep you goin’ all day.”
Is all too supportive of your flimsy little sundresses. The gauzy fabric floating around your legs like a visualization of your perfume, nearly beckoning him closer. Even when you’re looking like a good little church girl in your soft, flowy dresses… all he can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and have his way with you.
Which he does the second he brings you home from his cousin’s cookout in the suburbs.
Did I mention that he got a vasectomy after his divorce? Still, seeing you with his now adult daughter makes him daydream about getting you pregnant.
Which he finds insane… He doesn’t want any more kids, he physically can’t have any more kids… But the only thing he can think about right now is burying his cum in your pussy and keeping you pampered in his house with your belly full of his babies.
That vasectomy won’t stop him from trying his damndest, though. Especially after Sarah (who he had young) has her first baby and he watches you hold the six month old infant for the first time.
This man is a GENTLEMAN in the most old fashioned sense of the word.
Like, I cannot stress that enough.
If you’re an independent person, prepare to be thoroughly pampered.
His old fashioned chivalrous ways may be frustrating sometimes but it really does come from a place of just wanting to show his love.
Like when he insists on driving you everywhere whenever you go places together, or when he always finds a way to move you to the side of his body furthest away from the sidewalk when you walk, or when he automatically picks up your purse when you meet so that he can carry it for you.
But you forget all about those minor annoyances when he bends you over your kitchen table and pounds you into next week, muttering nonsense about how you’re too young for him or how you’re such a dirty girl for wanting him and his old man cock.
You moan his name when he grips both your hips in a tight but loving hold, all too willing to forgive him for his incessant door opening when you’re all dumbed down on his cock, the cock which is now way too hard and blood filled because he definitely popped one of your favorite blue pills a while ago.
But much like the gentleman he is, after he fucks you into a blissed-out stupor, he carries you to the bed and wipes your spent pussy clean, cuddling you into the mattress and running his hands through your hair while you both come down from your highs.
When he does get insecure about the age difference between you, all you can do is kiss his leathery, stubbled cheek and wrap your arms around him… Convincing him with your actions instead of words that his age is only a factor in your attraction to him… And that you love him for what makes him him.
this post got way too long but NONNIE I HOPE I DID YOU JUSTICE!!
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hope-drunk · 1 year ago
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DRESS
| you and abby are hiding your relationship from your friends, but you can't deny the sexual tension in the car before nora's end of summer party
| cw: 18+, mommy kink, friends with benefits situation, car sex, use of strap (r!receiving), pet names, public sex i suppose but it's said that they're in a very secluded area, happy ending
| wc: 2.5k
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Maybe if Abby didn’t want you to get turned on on the way to the party, she shouldn’t have worn her hair down with a baseball cap turned around. Not to mention the black cutoff she was wearing. You feel like you're going insane. Your thighs press together in the passenger seat as she lights another cigarette, holding it slightly out the window so that the smoke doesn't get inside. 
When you heard Nora was finally throwing her end of summer kickback, you and Abby jumped at the opportunity to attend. It was always nice to see everyone after the summer had kept everyone busy. But you didn’t even care about that anymore. The only thing you could care about was how large Abby’s arms looked in her shirt, and how small the cigarette looked between her fingers.
You had been casually seeing each other, emphasis on casually. You had been friends for a very long time. You had grown up together, and when you went to college you moved in together. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you weren’t with Abby. But, getting together was difficult. It would be weird to announce it to your friends. You were both scared that it would become too much, and it would ruin your friendship. So you decided to take it slow– really slow. You mainly had sex, and then didn’t talk about the sex after. So, you especially didn’t want to walk into the party with all your other friends smelling like sex.
“You need something?” She says, snapping you out of your daze.
You shake your head, scared of the words that would come out if you tell her what you were thinking. You pull the dress you're wearing down out of a nervous habit; mainly hoping that it'll hide the way your thighs are moving together every time she looks over at you. It's embarrassing, honestly. She hasn't even done anything. You’ve seen her in an outfit like this countless times. But there’s something about tonight; something about the way she’s driving and the way she’s carrying herself. So easily confident. You’re captivated by her. 
What you didn’t know is that you were driving Abby equally as crazy. The red dress you had picked out specifically for this party hugged your body in all the right ways. It accentuates her favorite parts of you. When you walked out into the living room all dolled up, she swore she almost came in her pants. She immediately went back into the room and threw on the strap under her shorts. Maybe you knew, maybe you didn’t. But with the way you were pressing your thighs together, she knew something was working for you tonight. She decided that she didn’t want to make it easy for you though. You would have to beg; you would have to get really desperate for Abby to consider fucking you on the side of the road.
“Do you think Mel will be there?” You say, trying to ease the sexual tension in the car.
“Hmm– I’m not sure. I know Owen said she wasn’t feeling the best the past few days. I don’t even know if he’ll be there, honestly.” 
“Oh, I hope she feels better.” You reply. Abby nods her head and hums, signaling the end of the conversation.
You wish she would make small talk, you wish she would do anything to distract the way you were thinking. She can hear you thinking, but it doesn’t work in your favor. Abby puts out her cigarette in the ashtray in the car. Then, she puts a rough hand onto your thigh, rubbing her thumb back and forth on the skin there. You almost scream. Your back straightens and you let out a small puff of air, showing your displeasure of the act. You want her to take away her hand, you don’t want to ask her to fuck you on the side of the road. But you also think you may die if she does. She inches her hand further up, the side of her palm almost touches where you need her. You look over at her; panicked. She has her tongue in her cheek, like she’s trying not to laugh.
“Abby,” you mumble.
“What, baby?” She says, pinky twitching towards you.
“Stop trying to turn me on.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. If you get turned on, that’s not my fault.” She knows it doesn't work like that, but she also knows that you love when she pretended it did. 
Abby 100% knew what she was doing. It was purely selfish. She wants to fuck you. Now. She wants to take you to the backseat and have her way with you. But she was never going to pull over the car. You would hang it over her head for years to come. ‘Remember that time you got so horny we were late to Nora’s party?’ She can practically hear your voice in her head. She knows you can't take it; knows that you will have to ask her to pull over.
Abby’s hand moves up far enough that she’s finally touching your cunt. You can’t help the small noise that escapes from your mouth. A whine; a plea. Whatever it was, Abby laughs, then moves her hand back down.
“No more teasing, please.”
“Why not?” She questions, smug look on her face when she turns to look at you.
You decide to be honest to her, “I will make you pull over the car if you keep teasing me.”
“So, make me pull over the car.” Abby says nonchalantly, putting her eyes back on the road.
You suck in a deep breath and pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “They’ll know,”
“They’re not gonna know. Just ask me to pull over. We’re in the middle of nowhere; there’s not even any streetlights. It’s two words, sweetheart, you know I’m up for it.”
The silence is deafening. You try to work up the courage as best as you can; opening and closing your mouth repeatedly. 
Her hand pushes up towards your clit again. “Pull over.” You moan out, before even knowing what you’re saying.
Abby speeds onto the shoulder of the road, not bothering to turn her hazards on since you’re in such a secluded area. The good part about the drive to Nora’s house was that there was barely a road. It was mainly dirt, the yellow lines that were once painted had been long forgotten. You and Abby had made fun of her for moving out in the middle of nowhere; now you wanted to personally thank her for it. 
Abby moves her seat all the way back. Before you move into her lap, you take off your panties and leave them in the passenger seat. She groans and takes off her hat. You sit right down onto her lap and moan when you feel the hard silicone that’s under her shorts.
“Why’d you wear that? Did you plan this?” You say accusingly. 
“Knew I’d need it. That’s all.”
“You’re so fucking cocky,” you say before smashing your lips onto hers.
Her hands meld into your ass. She uses her strength to move you back and forth on her lap, which forces you to grind into her. You whine into her mouth. She moves her kisses onto your neck and continues to rock you back and forth on her.
“Please, I want it.” You say, feeling yourself getting close from the way her pants are rubbing on your clit.
“Want what, sweetheart? C’mon, tell me.”
“Want your cock; don’t wanna cum like this.”
“You always ask me so politely. Love getting you worked up. S’the only time you’re not a brat.”
You pout at her and she smiles; knowing that her words are driving you crazy.
“C’mon, hips up,”
You shoot up off of her lap, causing her to laugh again. Of course, she takes her time taking off her shorts and boxers. When she finally does, she strokes the strap a few times, like she can actually feel it. She gives you a pointed look, and you know she’s ready for you to sit down on her. You’re careful, knowing that her strap can be painful; no matter how wet you are. When you finally do, you let out a small gasp. Tears immediately spring to your eyes as you start moving up and down on Abby. She wraps a strong arm around your waist; helping you. You shift and the backend of the strap hits her clit, causing her to moan out.
“Fuck, there y’go, baby. Taking it like a champ.”
The praise makes you move faster. You know that the strap is getting her off too. You fall into her neck and shudder, trying to roll your hips. You can’t deny you’re getting tired though.
“Always make mommy do all the fucking work, hm?” Abby says, catching onto your hints. “That’s okay. Y’know I’ll always take care of you.”
She starts moving your hips and up and down again.
She finds the spot that makes your hips twitch and your breath catch, “Oh, there it is– just needed me to find it, huh?” 
You bob your head up and down; your mouth hangs open. Abby closes it for you, wiping off the small dribble of spit that slipped out.
You feel your head grow fuzzier and fuzzier every time she moves your hips on her cock. You’re practically braindead. From her outfit, to the teasing, and how she wore the fucking strap under her clothes. You knew that you were in for. If you had a thought in your head that wasn’t about Abby’s cock, you’d be worried about how you’re gonna look at the party; how Abby is going to look. There’s no way that there’s not a wet spot on her pants. And you have to put back on your panties, that are soaked, after this. You want to beg her to start the car and take you back home. You want her to fuck you all night long. You feel a tear fall out of your eye and onto Abby’s shoulder.
“Y’cryin, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whine into her neck, the word gets caught up in a moan.
“My poor girl, what’s wrong?” Abby pushes you up so she can see your face. She pouts at you when she sees the tears. Never once does she stop moving your hips on top of hers. I mean– she’s not gonna delay her orgasm just because you’re a crybaby.
“Don’t wanna go to the party. Wanna stay like this forever.”
She tries to quiet a laugh, “I know. Mommy’s cock is so good, huh? Just wanna sit on it for eternity.”
You nod your head sincerely.
“Just focus on cumming, then we can talk about round two, yeah? Go on, rub your clit, sweetheart.”
You do as she says, reaching your hand between your bodies and rubbing the sensitive spot in rhythm with Abby’s movements. 
Obviously this wasn’t enough for her though. Before you know it Abby’s holding your hips off her lap and thrusting the strap into you. You almost cum just thinking about how strong she is. You look over at her arm and watch the muscle bulge as she holds you up into the air. You try to focus on your hand that’s supposed to be rubbing your clit, but you can’t. You press them both onto her chest, trying to feel her tits under the sports bra she’s wearing.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, taking one of your hands and moving the hair off your sweaty forehead. 
The windows were completely fogged. Abby had turned off the car, which meant she turned off the A/C. You don’t even care. At this point, she could fuck you on the side of a busy highway with a state trooper ten feet away, and you would let her.
“You look so pretty right now. So fucking pretty, doll. Gonna make you cum all over my cock.” 
This is how you know the strap is still hitting Abby’s clit– she’s rambling. No matter how cool she tries to act, the second the words start tumbling out of her mouth and she’s letting out low grunts, she’s done for.
You decide to be bold. “Am I making you feel good, mommy?”
She lets out a noise that borders on a growl, “Y’know you are, princess. Just keep being my little fuckdoll and I’ll cum, yeah?”
Her words do more damage to you than yours did to her. You’re a mess again, whimpering and clawing at her arms.
“I know you’re close,” she teases, “Cum for me, mommy’s gonna cum with you.”
With her permission, you let go. You feel yourself fall into her neck, but it feels like slow motion. You think you can actually hear your heart beating. The thick blood pumps inside of your ears, and it takes you a second to realize you’re still in the car, on top of Abby’s strap.
Abby rubs your back as you lay on top of her, pressing a kiss to your forehead a few times. “You’re alright, baby.” She says reassuringly, shushing you when you whine into her.
You sit up. Your brain is still mush– mush enough that you can finally voice your feelings. “I don’t wanna do this… thing anymore.”
Abby’s face goes blank, “Was it bad? Or too much? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck it up. Oh jesus I’m such–”
You cut her off, “No. It was really good. That’s why I wanna date. I don’t wanna just be friends who fuck anymore. I wanna be with you.”
“You wanna be with me because I fucked you in a car in the middle of nowhere?”
You scoff and hit her chest, moving off of her into the passenger seat.
“Come back here,” Abby says. You deny her, pressing your back to the door. Abby grabs your leg instead, massaging the muscles in your calf.
“You really wanna do it?” She asks. “What if it’s weird?” Her face scrunches up.
“I think this is definitely weirder than us dating.”
She laughs and nods her head. She goes to say something, then her phone rings, “Shit, it’s Nora.”
You try to listen to the conversation, but Abby’s phone is turned down, “What’s she saying?” You whisper.
Abby takes the phone off of her ear and puts it on speakerphone. Nora’s voice comes out clear, “Listen, we all know you’re fucking! You’re probably late because you’re fucking! No one cares, just get here.”
Abby goes red and immediately takes the phone off speakerphone. She gives Nora a quick ‘alright’ and hangs up the phone.
“We are not as smooth as we thought we were.” You say, trying to giggle your way through the embarrassment.  
“Well, now we have to tell them we’re dating, so buckle up. And put your panties back on.” Abby says while starting the car. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
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glossdebut · 1 month ago
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coming home (a take a bite drabble) | MYG
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✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader
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✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi's been working hard lately, with lots of late nights holed up in his studio. When you wake up with no recollection of him coming home last night, you decide to show him just how much you've missed him.
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✧ TAGS: NOT BETA READ, established relationship, and they live together now!, take a bite couple are still bonafide workaholics i fear, just pure smut honestly, THESE TWO ARE CRAZY IT IS THE MORNING!, warnings under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
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✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.8k words
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✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: got a request for oral (m. receiving) with yoongi, and decided i wanted to turn it into a take a bite drabble because i missed these two! can stand alone, but feel free to read take a bite if you want added context! also i know the song doesn't fit the vibe of this AT ALL but it is what it is. even when they're gross they're cute sorry
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✧ WARNINGS: light (but consensual) somnophilia? see: the established relationship tag, oral (m. receiving), deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk (including the use of sl*t but MC is so down with it), vaginal fingering, spanking, the thank you joke hasn’t died yet, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls), rough sex, choking, hand/finger kink (who is surprised), BACKSHOTSSSS!!! (pls lmk if i missed anything)
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Yoongi’s had a rough week.
Naturally a light sleeper, you usually at least stir when the bed dips beside you, but you have no recollection of Yoongi’s late return from the studio last night.
It must’ve been really fucking late, then. Not that that’s totally unusual. 
Living together these past few months has done little to mitigate either of your workaholic tendencies. If anything, you’ve both picked up more hours as a result, since there’s less pressure to actively set aside time for each other within both of your busy schedules. You don’t have to, not when you’re guaranteed to see each other every single day. 
Which, from an outsider’s perspective, may look kind of shitty at the surface. Why be in a relationship if you don’t make time for each other? But with Yoongi, it just… works. For both of you.
It works, because when you and Yoongi do get to spend uninterrupted hours together, you both always milk them for everything they’re worth. You go out for dinner instead of eating in. If you’re both feeling social, you invite your friends over. You shower together—or, if it’s been a particularly hard week, take a bath. Talk for hours and catch up on everything you’ve missed.
Living with Yoongi, it’s just… It’s everything you’d hoped for and more.
Not to mention Yoongi is pretty much the dream roommate.
“Yah, don’t call me that,” he’d complained the first time you’d told him as much. Scrunched his nose at you so cutely. “I’m your boyfriend. I worked hard to earn that title, thanks.”
“Well, it goes without saying that you’re my dream boyfriend,” you’d replied, cooing and squishing his cheeks when the tips of his ears turned pink in response. “Two things can be true at once, Yoongi.”
He takes the trash out. Always cooks enough for two. Never leaves hair in the sink when he shaves. Lets you use his expensive skincare products (which are, infuriatingly, much better than yours) whenever you want. And no matter how late he gets home, he always showers before he even touches the bed—because being holed up in the studio for days doesn’t exactly leave him smelling like a daisy.
Despite how late it must’ve been, last night was no exception, apparently.
It’s rare for Yoongi to fall asleep in such a state of undress—he’s a t-shirt and sweatpants guy, even in the dead of summer—but when you wake up wrapped around him, you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of skin available to you. He must’ve been too exhausted after his shower, stumbling to bed clad only in his boxer briefs.
You’re even more pleasantly surprised to find that, despite the man himself being completely conked the fuck out, Yoongi’s cock is very much awake. Poking you insistently where your leg is thrown over his body.
There are downsides to your shared workaholism. Like, Yoongi’s been coming home exhausted all week, and you haven’t had his cock in even longer. Which is fine. You don’t need sex. It is a little embarrassing, though, how just the feeling of his erection pressed against you fucking floods your panties. Brings a whole new meaning to Skinner’s box.
So you weigh your options. You could just let Yoongi sleep. It’s Saturday, after all. He has nowhere to be, as far as you know.
Orrrrr… you could do something else for him—wake him up in a way he’d surely appreciate very, very much. And you love an appreciative Yoongi.
Yeah… Fuck it.
Shifting the blankets earns you a sleepy grumble, but you ignore it and shimmy down the bed, gently maneuvering Yoongi’s body so you can fit yourself between his legs.
Shit, he really is so hard, straining against black fabric. When you lean forward to kiss down the thin trail of hair leading under his waistband, a barely-there touch where he’s aching, his cock twitches instantly. Sensitive, too.
Yoongi barely stirs when you pull the waistband down, dragging his boxer briefs as far as they’ll go in this position. If you were him, you’d already be awake by now. But lucky for you,Yoongi’s a much heavier sleeper than you are. Instead, you get to ogle him as much as you want with absolutely no judgement.
And you do, because fuck, your boyfriend is hot. Even when his face looks stupid because he’s asleep, he’s still criminally sexy. His hair has been getting longer recently, ends curling out at the base of his neck. Soft, smooth skin that you want to slide your hands all over. Long fingers that twitch slightly when you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. Lean muscle that tenses when you wrap your lips around his tip where he’s leaking already, from so little.
You tease him a little at first, because you can get away with it like this. Wrapping your hand around the base of him, you suck his tip shallowly into your mouth, just getting a taste. Further up the bed, you hear an intake of breath, a soft murmur that you can’t quite decipher into real words.
It’s been a long time since you’ve had him in your mouth like this. Not that he doesn’t like it—you know he does, given the way he praises you so filthily when he does have you on your knees for him. Yoongi’s just a giver by nature, and with how little you’ve been able to touch each other lately, he’s more likely to have his head between your legs rather than the other way around. Or he just fucks you. It’s been a while, but when you’re both up for it, he always fills you up so fucking good. Gives it to you nice and slow until you can’t help but beg him to fuck you harder, faster, moremoremore—
Jesus, yeah, you can’t tease anymore. You don’t have the patience he does to drag things out.
In one smooth motion, you’re swallowing him up, bracing your hands on the mattress so you can get the right angle to take him as far as you can.
The stretch makes your eyes water. Your throat puts up a valiant effort to keep him out, to tense up at the intrusion. You’ve never done this without his guidance, but you take a moment to fucking relax. You remember to breathe through your nose like he always tells you to, accepting the thickness of his cock into your throat nice and slow. As slow as you possibly can with how eager you are.
Above you, Yoongi lets out a groan. A strangled, breathy thing that spurs you on even more. When your nose reaches the soft trail of hair beneath his belly button, you suddenly feel the weight of his hand on the back of your head. Gentle, just resting there.
You wonder if he’s awake now. You wouldn’t be surprised, but you’ve also seen Yoongi sleep through the combined karaoke efforts of Jimin and Jeongguk. Singing Linkin Park. Loudly. 
Still, you focus your efforts on moving now that you’ve taken all of him, chin slick with spit and pre-cum as you slowly start to bob your head, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth as you try to suppress a gag.
“Fuck,” Yoongi says, voice gravelly with sleep. Fuck, his voice. It’s so unfair that just the sound of his voice when he wakes up instantly makes your neglected cunt clench with need.
You feel the bed shift under you, feel his fingers tighten slightly in your hair. You pause and chance a glance up at him through your lashes only to find him now fully awake, moving to sit up against the pillows. Eyes pitch black.
Carefully, you pull off of his cock with a sticky pop, catching your breath for a second. You’re grinning when you look up at him again.
“Good morning.” 
“Good fucking morning,” Yoongi practically growls, rubbing at the saliva on your chin with his thumb. “Don’t stop on my account.”
You’d make fun of him for his eagerness, but shit, you are so not in the position to, not with the way your thighs are rubbing together. Instead, you do as he says, surging back down.
“Shit,” he groans, his hand in your hair guiding the wet heat of your mouth up and down the length of his cock now, not bothering to be gentle about it. You’re not taking him as far anymore, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit, not with the way his head falls back against the headboard, bottom lip bitten as he looks at you.
“What a way to wake up,” Yoongi murmurs, grunting when he pushes you a little too far, like he’s reveling in the way it makes you sputter. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”
His praise makes you whine around him, your eyes squeezing shut as you force your throat around his cock again, swallowing.
“Good girl, just like that.”
You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thighs tense under you, and you slide the seal of your mouth up on his shaft, fully prepared to wrap your hand around his base and finish what you started. But then—
“C’mere,” Yoongi murmurs, using his hand in your hair to pull you off of his cock, ignoring your pitiful whine as he drags you up into his lap.
“You were about to cum,” you protest, although there’s no heat to it. Not when you can feel the warmth of him against the last scrap of fabric separating you. Not when you can grind down, finally getting the friction you’ve been desperate for since you woke up.
“So?” Deft fingers find the waistband of your panties, wasting no time in slipping underneath. You both groan when he discovers the way you’ve been dripping for him, easily fucking two fingers into your tight heat. “Holy shit, you’re soaked.”
“S’been a long time,” you whine as Yoongi expertly locates that sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing against it at a ruthless pace. “Fuck, Yoongi!”
“Been a long time, huh?” he teases, the picture of calm as he noses the side of your neck. “Weren’t you riding my face just a few days ago, baby?”
“Not the same,” you pant, fingers grasping at his shoulders as he makes you see stars. “N-need your cock, need it so fucking bad, fuck.”
“Yeah? You need it? My mouth isn’t enough for you, is that it?” Yoongi admonishes, chuckling when you shake your head because no, fuck, that isn’t what you meant. “When did my sweet girl turn into such a needy slut for me?”
Oh.
Before you have a chance to react, he surges forward, slotting his lips with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss.
Shit, you’re gonna cum. Embarrassingly fast, but you’re so goddamn worked up, and when he says shit like that—
“I’ve been neglecting you, huh, baby?” he coos as he pulls away, withdrawing his fingers so fast it makes your head spin. You don’t have time to complain though, because then he’s slapping your thigh with a gravelly, “All fours, pretty girl.”
Fuck, yes.
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Eagerly, you clamber out of his lap, immediately shifting yourself into position.
“Look at you,” he huffs, moving behind you to roughly shuck your panties down your legs, the fabric trapped at your knees.
You whine as you feel him run his tip teasingly through your soaked folds, desperate for him to just fucking get on with it already, shit. 
“Fuck yeah, you want it so bad,” he groans appreciatively, using his free hand to land a sharp smack on your ass as you try to wiggle back onto his cock. “So fuckin’ desperate for my cock.”
“Stop fucking teasing—”
Your protests cut off into a strangled moan as he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, clutching your sides so roughly you feel like you’ll bruise. “What was that?”
“Yoongi,” you gasp, adjusting to the feeling of being filled by him again, just skin on skin. You swallow harshly as he brings a hand up to your neck, pressing his lips against your clothed shoulder.
“You know what to say, baby,” he purrs, pulling out all the way just to thrust back in again, twice as hard this time.
“Thank you!” you cry out, your eyes rolling back in your head at the combined sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers squeezing your throat. “Fuck, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Yoongi growls, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. “Knew you would remember your manners.”
It’s so good. It’s so fucking good, but it’s not enough, not like this. You can feel the warmth of your impending orgasm spreading through your body already, picking up right where you left off when his fingers were inside you, but you need more.
“Y-Yoongi, please,” you whimper pitifully, pushing your ass back into his movements. “Please, I need—”
“Still not enough for you, huh?” Yoongi says mockingly, his hand sliding down from your neck to grope roughly at your tits through your shirt. “Thought you needed my cock.”
“I-I do, I do,” you sob, grasping at the sheets under you. “I just—”
Your words are cut off by two long digits slipping between your lips. You don’t even fucking think about it as you wrap your lips around them greedily and suck. “There you go,” he coos. “Is that what you needed, baby?”
How the fuck did he know?
Exhaling sharply through your nose, you moan in response, the sound muffled by his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groans, his hips stuttering slightly. “Squeezing around me so tight. You gonna cum, baby?”
Helplessly, you nod, tears welling up in your eyes from the pure pleasure of it as he fucks you into the mattress.
“Then cum,” he growls, using his free hand to push you back down onto your hands before reaching down to rub at your clit.
That’s all you need. Your pussy flutters frantically around him and then you’re cumming hard, drool coating your chin as you cry out around his fingers.
“Shit, holy fuck,” Yoongi moans urgently, pulling the digits from your mouth with a pop as his rhythm falters significantly. “Where do you want it?”
You can’t think, let alone speak, so instead you drop down onto your elbows, arching your back in lieu of an answer. Quickly, he pushes your shirt up to your shoulders and pulls out. You can hear the sound of his urgent strokes, wet and filthy, before he spills onto your back with a groan.
Thoroughly spent, you crumple fully onto the mattress with a whimper, the sounds of Yoongi’s labored breathing filling your ears.
“God,” he huffs, giving your ass one final slap before the mattress dips with his weight next to you. You turn your head to face him, greeted by an exhausted (but still gummy) smile.
“Good morning,” you huff, fond as the pleasant buzz of your orgasm gives way to something softer.
“Good morning yourself.” Yoongi glances at the clock on his bedside table. Because he still uses an analong fucking alarm clock, the grandpa. “You know it’s Saturday, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
“And?”
“And, we both totally could’ve slept in.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you would’ve rathered sleep over the sex?” you quip, sitting up on your elbows carefully so as not to spill his release onto the mattress.
“Not at all,” he hums lifting his head to glance at your back appreciatively. “Just making sure you’re aware.”
“Mm.”
“What brought this on?” Yoongi teases, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder gently before moving to stand and pull his underwear back into place, searching for a towel to wipe you down with. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You’ve been working a lot,” you explain, closing your eyes as he cleans your back gently. “I wanted to do something nice for you. And I missed you. You know, because I love you. A lot.”
Tossing the towel into the nearby hamper, Yoongi sits on the bed next to you. “I love you too, baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You have the weekend off?”
“Mhm,” you hum, content.
“Me too,” he says softly, smiling at you. “Lemme make you breakfast.”
As if on cue, your stomach growls against the mattress, earning an amused snort from Yoongi.
“Yeah, okay,” you concede, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before he gets up again, heading towards the door. “Just let me shower first. I’m all gross because of you.”
Yoongi leans against the doorframe, chuckling darkly as he glances at your half-naked form.
“Might as well not,” he murmurs, tilting his head at you. “I’m nowhere near done with you. We just have to eat first.”
With that, he turns around and opens the bedroom door, leaving you flushed and speechless as he heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast.
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lvrrgirlll · 5 days ago
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Knight in Shining Armor
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★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Pairing: medieval princess ! reader x knight ! Patrick Zweig
Word count: 3k
Warnings: smut, p in v, fem reader, knives mentioned (briefly in a nightmare?), some Christian biblical imagery and mentions of sin/religious related guilt (I was playing into the whole medieval royalty thing idk)
Notes: Thank you guys for all the love on the moodboard/little blurb on this!!! Without all the support I wouldn’t have been inspired to go crazy and write this (I fear this will seem like the most pretentious fic ever written bc I really lent into the medieval thing so the language feels kinda crazy at some points…idk, if y’all were rocking with the last one, you’ll probably rock with this lol) Enjoy!!
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
You did your best to avoid Patrick in court the following days. You were unsure if you could even face him after your dream. But, of course, nothing can last forever. An attempted attack on your wing of the castle (which was, thankfully, stopped by the valiance of Sir Patrick) led to a change that would greatly affect your fate.
As you entered the grand hall of the castle to take your seat in court, you noticed Sir Patrick in his armor —something rather unusual to see in the castle, though you didn't mind— speaking to your father, metal helmet in hand. Your father had always favored Patrick, you presumed for his determination and natural swagger, and acted as such. He was the head knight of the royal guard and spoke with the King frequently. Taking notice of your presence, your father addressed you whilst you curtsied. “Good daughter, what fortune you arrive now of all times. In light of the attack on your wing, I have decided to appoint Sir Patrick himself to be your personal guard. Your safety is of the utmost importance to me and this entire kingdom. It is only right I appoint our best knight.” Your father smiled warmly at Patrick then.
“I thank you, your majesty,” Patrick bows before the King. “I shall be prepared to risk my life for the life of our princess.” At that, he turns to you, offering a look so secretly smug you have trouble maintaining your composure. You simply smile and nod, silently acknowledging the workings of your father and the knight that now create a great dilemma for you.
“Father, I am suddenly feeling quite faint. Might I take my leave and rest for the afternoon?” You just want to get away from him. He’s dangerous. You can hardly control yourself around him. And what’s worse is he knows it.
Your father, concerned, approves of your leave, though you feel dismayed when Sir Patrick follows you. “I am perfectly capable of making my way back, myself. Thank you, sir,” you offer, trying to be as strict as you can, for your own sake more than his.
“M’lady, perhaps you did not understand. As your personal guard, I am tasked with protecting you at all times. This would require that I be with you at all times. The King wills it so.” He speaks formally though his tone is far too pleased to be merely dutiful. You had not considered that. Sighing, you merely nod in understanding before turning again to return to your room.
In your room, Patrick takes his station directly outside the door. “I am only a moment away. Do not hesitate should you need me.” He may not know exactly how you may need him…
You nod, though, smiling softly before closing the door, creating a divide between the two of you. You are overcome by desire. You feel dirty, guilty, and wrong…but you know he feels the same. And he is noble; he is a gentleman…would it be so bad if you acted on your feelings? God, you feel foolish. You have hardly spoken to him in the years he has served at the castle. What feelings could you really be harboring?
Sick of your racing thoughts, you resolve that a nap would be the best right now. In your sleep, though, you dream of enemies breaking through your windows and climbing up the tower of your wing. It is utterly terrifying. You can feel yourself stirring, heart racing and sweating profusely, as your subconscious plays tricks on you. In your nightmare, a cloaked figure, face hidden in the shadows of his hood, plunges a dagger through your heart, causing you to lurch awake with a loud cry. You are breathing heavily, trying to adjust to your new, real surroundings and shake the terror of the dream when you hear Sir Patrick through the door.
“Your Majesty? Are you alright…?” You do not answer, still shaken and attempting to compose yourself. “I am entering, m'lady.” And before you can tell him not to, that you’re alright, Patrick burst through the door, already reaching for his sword. Seeing you are merely sat in bed, his urgency leaves him, concern taking over. “Is there not a threat?” He observes, then, the state you are in. Dressed only in your thin, white nightgown (which has grown somewhat see-through on account of your nightmare induced sweat soaking through the fabric), Patrick is reduced to nothing but a mere man in love, forgetting himself entirely. Unbeknownst to you, he adjusts himself in his trousers, clearing his throat.
The room is illuminated only by the cold, pale light of the moon shining through your large paned windows. Shadows dance across his features as a breeze blows the trees outside steadily. He has never looked more beautiful. Both concern and lust play on his face, leaving you to squirm just a bit more than you normally would have under his gaze. Looking down then, you reply, embarrassed. “Forgive me for my foolishness. There is no present threat. I am sorry to have wasted your time and effort, good sir.” You bow your head in remorse. This on its own is a sign of you respect for the knight before you. Technically, he should be bowing to you, but under his gaze you feel so small, yet so regarded at the same time. It is unlike with any other man, though it is rare you interact with many often anyways. You lift your head, meeting his eyes again and feeling your stomach flip.
A pang of guilt runs through you as you realize you are noticeably smiling at him. Despite his nobility, you believe the two of you would never be. The only way your union: emotional, physical, spiritual, or (more officially) marital would ever occur would be if your father willed it. And though Sir Patrick was your father’s right hand man, it was the relationship of that of an employer and his best employee, not that of father and son nor of old companions.
Your smile dropped and so did his. He knew what he was doing, his silent, unspoken, but clear pursuit of you ever since that fateful night was wrong. But he did not care. He had no regard for his own life or death, he was a knight, after all. He risked himself for this kingdom, he would be willing to risk himself for you. He brought a hand up, cupping your face in his large palm, and offering you a sorry smile. “To defend you, threat or no threat, is my life’s honor, m’lady. You have wasted nothing of mine.” His hand brushed your ear as he tucked your hair behind it. Seeing you with your hair down for the first time was something entirely new to him, similar to when you first saw him shirtless that night. In typical court fashion, you would never leave your chambers with your hair fully down. Seeing you so bare, so honest, and unadorned felt novelty. He was grateful for his wit, being able to convince the King that he should serve you personally.
You, however, were so deeply conflicted. You knew better. Your station in society as well as in life did not allow for these endeavors. But your mind, you body, your heart…they longed for your knight in shining armor. His touch, though somewhat chaste, only holding your head in his hands, felt deeply intimate. You considered your options. “Sir, might I ask your discretion in asking a favor?” Your felt fearful of your own desires, but conjured up as much confidence as possible.
“Always, m’lady.”
You tugged your bottom lip into your mouth for a moment, before continuing. “M- might you…kiss me?” It was hard to maintain your composure, overcome with shame as you looked up pleadingly into his eyes. It was only the two of you in your bedchamber, the door closed —yet another forbidden thing.
Softening, a smirk gracing his features, he sighed. “I would be a fool not to.” This was exactly what he had been wanting since he first saw a portrait of you. The strength required of his position kept his feelings concealed, but in this one, small moment alone with you, he could reveal them. He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you as his lips move against yours feverishly. You can feel his tongue dart out and wet your bottom lip, but you pull away quickly before he is able to deepen the kiss.
“I am sorry. This is…” you search for the words, not wanting to be so harsh but wanting to be clear. “This is sinful.” Your eyes meet his, pleading for him to offer you a reprieve from your consuming feelings by distancing himself. Though, that twinkle behind your eyes and in the corner of your lips betrayed you. He could see you had fallen for him the same as he for you.
He takes a seat next to you on your bed, looking into your eyes earnestly. “If I it is a sin to touch you, I would become a sinner every day till I am dragged to hell, should you allow me?” He was begging you to let him touch you, feel you, love you. And who would you be to deny him?
You were quiet for a moment, considering your fate and whether or not you would be able to find absolution after giving in. Throwing caution to the wind, you allow yourself, for once, to make your own decisions. "Please, good sir. Touch me. Take me, for I am all yours."
He wasted no time, leaning in to kiss you, his armor clanging against itself as he did so. The kiss was passionate, the years of admiring you from afar being poured out in this one moment. Breaking the kiss, suddenly, he stood, leaving you confused until he began swiftly removing his armor. He made sure to set each piece down gently, so as not to alert and servants lingering nearby of his presence in your chambers. You tried to stifle your smile as his form was revealed more and more with each layer of metal gone. It was new and exciting, and his gentleness despite his clear eagerness was unbelievably admirable.
Once he had removed it all, clad only in a white linen undershirt and trousers, he returned to your bed, leaning over you and pulling you into another deep kiss. This time, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, licking softly into it, his nose brushing against your cheek as he pressed closer into you, as if he longed for your two bodies to be one. It was impossible to be any closer, but you did not mind one bit. Though timid at first, your kisses matched his fervor. You could feel his calloused hand combing through your hair as his other snuck lower, carressing you through your nightgown. You let out a shivered breath at his touch.
"Is this alright, my lady?" He pulled back, looking into your eyes longingly. God, forgive you, but you needed this so badly. You both did.
You nodded, lifting your hips to gather your nightgown up and off of you, casting it aside carelessly. Now, you really felt exposed. But something about Patrick made you want to feel honest; made you want to seek pleasure shamelessly. His eyes widened in tandem with his smirk. He was so pleased and so in love.
"I've never...I-...I'm a virgin," you admitted, looking up at him through your thick lashes. His smile only widened, but not in some sort of sick, smarmy way. It was genuine and kind.
"Oh, I know, your highness. Or...I imagined as much. Not to worry, I am well aware of how to please a woman," he spoke softly, trying not to intimidate you. You would have taken offense at his mention of his previous experience, but you had imagined he was experienced in the first place, as many men and knights of his age are by now. It is different for you, a princess, always expected to remain pure. With him, you did not fear impurity after this. You felt strongly that you would steadfast remain pure in his eyes till the end of time.
He leaned in again, placing hot kisses along your neck. He moved to remove his trousers as he did so, working at the string that held them up quickly. As he did so, your fingers found their way to the tie that held his shirt together, pulling at the string with a new confidence, you brought your hands to the hem and he pulled away from your neck to remove his shirt. Both his bandages and bruises were gone, a good sign, but there was a scar where he had been scratched, a reminder of your previous encounter.
His trousers finally hanging low around his legs, he teased himself around your entrance, causing you to jolt and whimper beneath him. The feeling was entirely foreign but oh so enchanting. He reached a hand down, running his fingers through your folds, smirking at the wetness that gathered on his fingers. "You are like the Lady of The Lake...beautiful, otherworldly, and so, so wet..." Patrick murmured lustfully. It was such a dirty compliment, but you were so deeply moved.
Like your dream, you were both under your layers upon layers of white sheets, so warm, close, and intimate. His fingers danced around your clit, circling it at an agonizingly slow pace. You gasped, sucking in a breath quickly and biting your lip so as not to make any more sound. He did not miss this, leaning in to peck you on the lips before reminding you "The walls are stone, the door thick oak and iron. We should be cautious, yes, but you mustn't be embarrassed to make a sound. It is better, in fact, if you do."
His reassurance brought a smile to your face as you dropped your lip from your teeth, a sign that you were allowing yourself the honesty you so craved with Patrick. He resumed his hand movements around your most sensitive spot, causing you to let out a symphony of high pitched gasps. His fingers moved away then, moving down and slipping inside of you, first one, then another. The stretch was unfamiliar and hurt a bit, something your scrunched eyebrows didn't hide, but he did not move them for a moment, allowing you to adjust. "All will be well," he cooed into your ear, lips brushing against your skin. "I just need to warm you up."
His fingers began to move, first only in and out at a steady pace, but soon replaced by him scissoring his fingers deep inside of you, your walls squuezing him tightly. "Good sir..." you sighed in pleasure.
"Patrick," he corrected. "You may call me by my God given name: Patrick."
"Patrick..." you sighed again as he quickened the pace of his fingers. To your surprise, though, he pulled his fingers out abruptly. You almost protested, but he swiftly replaced his fingers with his cock, pushing lightly at your entrance.
"May I," he asked, looking into you eyes unwaveringly.
"Please," you nearly moaned in response. He followed your request, sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the thickness and length that so differed from that of his fingers. He watched your reaction carefully, taking in the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut, eyebrows knitting together in both pleasure and pain. You inhaled sharply as he bottoms out, feeling as if he was practically prodding at your stomach.
"Are you ready for me to move," he inquired, eyes lidded and breathing already heavy in awe of you beneath him.
Looking up at him then, as if he were an angel or possibly some type of temptation sent by the devil that you had so easily fallen for, like Eve and the apple, you yearned to take a bite. "Patrick," it felt unfamiliar to address him so informally, but there was an undeniable intimacy in doing so as well. "If I should wait any longer it may kill me."
With that, he began moving, his pace quick but not agonizing, instead quite tender. You cried out, moans, sighs, and gasps leaving your lips repeatedly as his hips met yours time and time again. His gaze didn't leave yours, except when he would close his eyes, losing himself in a particularly deep thrust. His skin on yours was warm, a stark difference from your naturally cold body. "God, Princess, you are better than I've ever imagined."
The thought that he had imagined this with you made you feel elated, but you couldn't even bring yourself to offer a witty reply, overtaken by pleasure. "P- Patrick," you moaned, your whole body feeling hot suddenly. He quickened his pace just a bit, leaning in to suck at your neck as his other hand came up to toy with your hardened nipples. It felt so sinful but so perfect and right. How could something this good ever be wrong?
At his added touch, hips still pistoning in and out of you, it all felt like too much. Your stomach began to tighten, walls clenched tightly around him, bringing him to an almost sorry state as his jaw went slack, eyes closing suddenly and his thrusts becoming sloppier. It was impossible to restrain yourself as your hips began bucking up to meet his. "Please, please, please," you didn't even know what you were asking for but you knew you needed it.
"I'm there too, Princess. Come on, let's finish together..." he moved his hand from your chest to you clit, rubbing swift circles as he slammed his hips into yours. Pleasure finally overtook you entirely as you fluttered around him, body stiffening and falling weak as you reach your high. He pulled out of you quickly, his hand moving to finish himself off lazily on your stomach through stifled grunts. When you were both completely spent, he momentarily laid next to you in bed, both of you looking up at the grand vaulted ceilings of your bedchambers.
"Thank you, Patrick, for showing me a kindness I should never know how to repay," you whisper softly. He sits up slightly, turning to you and offering a chaste kiss to your cheek.
"You should never have to 'repay' me. After all, I live to serve you, my dear Princess."
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sugucvnt · 27 days ago
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PERFECT ROLE | 2.7k
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alcoholic! toji fushiguro x fem!reader
description: you’ve always been his perfect housewife. you’ve been there to keep the bed warm, keep the food hot, and there to cry when he’s been out all night drinking.
tags/warning: angst, crying, kitchen sex, clothed sex, mentions of drinking, implied alcoholic, toji's not a great husband but he is trying, REPOST (from my other account lolol), emotional sex
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all of your days seem to start the same.
laundry, feeding your child, cleaning her room, etc. when you signed up for motherhood, you weren’t expecting the redundancy that tags along with it. still, even your bad days feel good and you couldn’t imagine trading motherhood for anything else. you smile a little as you tuck your last child into bed, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before leaving quietly.
you have no regrets because you love your little girl. and sometimes, you love your husband too. the sound of jingling keys seems to snap you out of your thoughts and you huff out a breath, making your way downstairs. the stairs croak a bit, so you’re aware he knows you’re coming.
it isn’t written on your face, but you are rather upset. you’ve known your husband since he was a teenager- which means you’re aware of things he may not even be aware of. like the fact that he honestly prefers eating with other people. you’ve noticed the man goes a little crazy when you refuse to eat at the table with him. not just that, though, but you know the way his mind works.
toji doesn’t know what a promise is. or he’s got no idea what it means to make one.
he’ll make tons of empty promises that he never intended to keep in the first place, and then he’ll get pissy at you for being upset with him. it’s unfortunate, but you’ve always learned to just accept it and work around that flaw. until now, you’ve never allowed his blatant disregard for your feelings to send you into such despair. your emotions are a tool you’ve worked diligently to keep in place. it’s like a stone wall: they aren’t so easily broken or disturbed. not by just anyone, at least.  the only person who could disturb the artificial peace you’ve created to keep yourself sane is toji.
you’re barely near the man, still leisurely walking down your loud, wooden steps- but you can smell him.
cheap liquor. it’s all you’ve been able to smell this week.
“‘m back,” he calls, the shrinking scar on his lip pulling into a sickening grin. it seems so long ago but there was a time when you enjoyed his smile. there was a time when it brightened your day just to see the stupid little smirk he’d have on his face when you did something for him, or even when you’d wore a pretty outfit he liked.
“it’s late, toji,” you start, finally making your way down the steps and right past your husband. he barely feels like that to you anymore. “haven’t even had work this week but you’re out all night. it’s funny.”
you shoot him a quick glare before brightening up the kitchen a bit when you turn the stove light on.
“don’t be like that, i let you go out when you wanna.” he sits in one of the chairs in the dining area, a sly grin still glued to his stupid face. your eyebrows furrow and your head turns to look at him, your hand anxiously playing with the loose strings of your nightgown.
“let me? toji, you can’t let me do anything. i haven’t even been out to do anything but run errands.” another sigh escaped your lip and you feel like you might vomit. you’ve been up since 6, running errands, doing laundry, and making breakfast. not to mention, crying yourself nearly to death worrying about your husband. is he alright? why’s he been out so much recently? does he need to talk?
you’re worried out of your mind. it’s like your head’s been spinning and your thoughts aren’t even your own. so anxious, you’re nearly on the verge of vomiting daily. toji hardly even notices you said anything before he’s back to picking at the food on his plate.
“you promised you wouldn’t keep drinking.” he’s draining your energy day by day and you’re unsure if you can even keep up. your voice is merely a croak, fingers still widely tangling and untangling in the loose threads of your satin gown. you wanna say good night and kiss him on the cheek? even tell him that you aren’t mad, just worried is all.
you don’t.
you’re about to move past him. you’re tired and irritated- you need some sleep and a long bath and much to your dismay, he carefully grabs your arm. you’ve been with the kids all day. the kids you’d agreed to procreate when he promised a foolish illusion of a perfect family. you won’t regret your children- don’t think you could ever live with yourself if you did, honestly.
but you’re starting to think you chose the wrong person to start a family with.
he doesn’t speak. his presence is so subtle, it’s like he’s holding his breath. you feel a chill run through your back when he pulls you into his lap, attempting to have you straddle him. your energy, the rest of it, has been used up for the night. you don’t have the proper motivation to even fight with him. on a normal night, maybe you’d push him away a little hard and then come back to apologize. maybe on a normal night, you’d just bury your face in his welcoming neck without fighting him. maybe even ask if he’s okay. you wanna know. you gotta.
however, tonight isn’t a normal night. you haven’t had one in a while.
you have enough energy to turn your head to the side. you can barely stomach looking at his flushed face and wild hair. he’s as red as a tomato, with individual strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. you’ve been missing him so much that the images of how happy he used to look simply from being around you and your children flash through your mind, almost as if your own head’s mocking you. like your mind’s telling you how pathetic it is that you’re losing the family you built. going from a loving housewife to your husband’s burden.
does he hate you? is that why he’s been acting so recklessly? you’re no stranger to fantasizing about your life before a family. you often thought about a different career choice or how much free time you’d have if something, anything, had changed. that didn’t mean you didn’t want toji anymore, though. the thought of him hating you or feeling any type of disgust with you caused your stomach to churn painfully, embarrassingly enough. he was still your lover. always had been.
“you know how much i love you, yeah?” he whispers, the scent of liquor heavy on his thick tongue. his words cause you to flush with a bittersweet sensation. loves you? he’s constantly gone and making you worried. you can’t remember the last time he asked about your day or helped out at home.
you pout childishly, stifling an unwanted laugh. nothing about this is amusing to you, but you genuinely can’t help the laugh beginning to escape your lips. “yeah? then i don’t see why you make me worry so much.” you finally bring yourself to face him, tears awkwardly welling in your eyes. blinking them away, you subconsciously pressed your head against his. you can hear his breath hitch in his throat before his hands gently grip your clothed waist. you’ve been doing well at keeping your frustration with your situation at bay, but something about sitting in your husband’s lap just broke you. when was the last time you were able to feel his warmth? it felt nice. you were starting to remember just how much you missed feeling his body against yours again.
god, you were beginning to feel so needy.
“hey,” you hear him start before he quickly stops talking. you assume he’s attempting to rack his tipsy brain for the right words, but it must be difficult in his haze. still, he’s seeming to sober up in your presence. “don’t cry, please. not over me.”
tears still drip from your eyes, your body ignoring his words. how can you stop now? you’ve been crying all day. all week. he’ll never understand what he’s doing to your mind until it’s too late for the both of you. you’re constantly on edge, feeling like you’ll break. he’ll tell you something sweet, claiming he’ll stop or that he’s sorry- but won’t do anything to make you believe it. you’ve stopped trusting him and you hate that so much. hate how much you’re regretting a relationship with him and how far you’ve both taken it.
neither of you is ready to be together.
even then, you can’t leave. you have a child together. and secretly, even if you won’t admit it, you still love him. even if you’re angry and frustrated, and depressed- you’ll always love him. you’ll always be here, keeping the bed warm and keeping food on the table for when he gets home.
that’s one promise you can’t break.
“please, you’re hurting me a lot.” you’re trying to be honest. until now, you’ve held the way you’ve felt for as long as possible, only confronting him when the situation escalates. you’ve been a good woman. a good wife, for him. “i can’t- not by myself. please, toji. please.” you plead with him, bringing the back of your hand up to quickly wipe away your unwelcome tears.
even in the dim light, you can tell how much his face drops seeing you cry. you’re aware of how his mouth opens, but then quickly shuts. his eyes find yours and his hands squeeze your waist a little. nothing is stopping you from releasing a low groan, so you do. poking your lip out while you watched, or rather felt, for his every move.
he presses a chaste kiss to your neck and suddenly, you can’t remember what you were so upset about. the feeling of his scarred lip bewitches you and forces more groans from your lips. your body seems to move on its own, hips gyrating over his clothed bulge in a steady movement. your lips move to his neck now, your brain filling with fuzz while his hands travel over your needy body. goosebumps begin to form along your skin when he touches you, but he barely notices. it’s been too long since you’ve been touched like this.
“there she is,” toji pushes his strands of hair out of his face before gently grabbing your chin. his eyes are intimidating as ever, but you feel a sudden warmth when he looks at you now. the same gentle fire in his stomach you used to feel. it’s dangerous. it’s dangerous because it feels like hypnotism. every worry or stressor in your life seems to become so blurry they’ve disappeared. your feelings are surprisingly at ease, and shoulders that were once tense now drop lazily. “my pretty lil’ housewife. knew you couldn’t stay mad at me…”
his words should snap you out of your daze. they should upset you because now it’s clear he’s either attempting to make a shitty apology or distract you. despite your awareness, you’re unable to bring yourself to stop.
“yeah…” you breathe out hoarsely, attempting to roll your hips against his hardening bulge once again before he stops you, tightly gripping your waist. your head shoots up to stare at him, silently questioning him. his hands quickly leave your waist before silently fumbling with his belt and zipper. you suck your lip into your mouth and nervously pull your nightgown up to your tummy. the world around the both of you seems to fade away, the only thing on your mind now being your husband. toji, toji, toji.
you breathe out a cool breath, shaky fingers snaking down to pull your sticky panties to the side. your husband’s mouth pulls into a grin when he notices his effect on you, blowing some air from his mouth. you watch intently as his thick fingers wrap around the base of his cock. he glances up at you for a split second before he’s rubbing the top of his cock against your wet clit. you shiver, your chest rising and falling dramatically from such a simple touch. you can feel nerves surge throughout your stomach from both pleasure and anxiety, but you ignore it.
it’s painfully quiet, the only sounds being your soft groans and toji’s grunts. he slicks his cock with a mixture of saliva and your arousal before lining it with your entrance. once he pushes in, you can no longer contain yourself. your eyes water again from the stretch, but you’re still moaning. couldn’t stop if you wanted to. your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling to the side while bottoms out in your tight heat.
“been so long baby,” he whimpers, fucking whimpers, in your ear, the familiar feel of his hands now back on your waist. “missed feeling you like this so bad.” you can feel his hips thrust upward, fucking into you in swift movements while you just take it. you feel his cock drag against your sopping walls, the sound of your slick gushing not going unnoticed by either of you. it’s almost awkward the way you just sit there and take what he’s giving you.
his pace slows down now and then, the gentle drag of his throbbing cock sending waves of pleasure through your body. you huff out gentle breaths into his neck while toji has his way with your body for the first time in a while. neither of you feels talkative tonight given the tension, but you wanna cry out to him. your body’s been on fire these nights without feeling his cock filling you up so, so so perfectly.
with a free hand, he makes a gap between the both of you and presses his finger to your aching clit, causing you to cry out loudly. you throw your head back, finally gaining a bit of control. you leisurely rotate your hips, holding onto toji’s broad shoulders as a way to keep your balance. toji never stops moving. he never stops fucking himself inside of you, one hand gripping your ass while the other gently presses down on your clit.
you know he isn’t good at apologies. is this his way of apologizing? you can’t help but wonder.
he could feel your walls gripping him like you were too afraid to let go- and it was driving him insane. you could tell as much, groaning from the way he throbbed inside of you. “gripping me like-” he stops and grunts, pace quickening once again. you can hear the sound of his cock pounding you, along with the sound of your slick continuing to escape your pussy. it’s almost too much, really. “like you want another baby. do you? you wan’ another, hm?”
goodness, no. you don’t need another child in this situation. you wouldn’t be ready and you know he wouldn’t be either. despite that fact, the fantasy of him pumping more children into you was starting to force a reaction from you. your toes clenched tightly while you rode his cock, pulling yourself off a bit before sliding down quickly. the nerves in your stomach were out of control and you broke out in chills. you were almost there. you buried your face in his shoulder while you moaned, riding out your quiet orgasm. his fingers sped on your aching clit, encouraging you to use him for your own pleasure. he was so lovely in bed.
toji whispered how much of a good girl you were for him before he found himself painting your walls in thick ropes of hot cum. he thrusts into you a few more times before halting, hands weakly wrapping around your hips in an attempt to pull you even closer.
he didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was sorry.
“‘m sorry i haven’t changed.” his voice was croaky, you’d noticed.
“‘ts okay. won’t leave you. can’t.” your lips were pursed while you lay your head on his shoulder, thinking about your words. there was nothing sadder to you than your own desperation. no matter how this played out, you couldn’t see yourself leaving him. no matter how much you were regretting your marriage, you’d never leave.
you were realizing that maybe you weren’t good for each other after all. the toxicity of your relationship was nothing to laugh at.
but even then, you’d continue playing the role of his perfect housewife.
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