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#and remember to be kind to yourself and forgive yourself for things you did or didn't do too
hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut
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Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?
After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonight…
Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words
maybe the tag list? Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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Fuck Joke Around and Find Out
The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggie’s fingers playing with Charlie’s, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Husk’s obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Husker’s hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.
After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, “Oh I guess it’s our turn?”
Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, “Your room or mine?”
You threw your leg over Alastor’s lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, “Pssst rooms are for squares, baby.”
Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didn’t work quite as effectively on you.
“Squares? Oh, not us.” A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ‘no’, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.
When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastor’s large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, “Thanks, trying to do it like he did,” fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. “I think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincin’ portrayal, pookie?” Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.
Alastor’s finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.
When alone together, you’d occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.
His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize you’d made the noise.
Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, “Oops. Sorry. Got carried away.”
“No need to apologize. What’s a little joking around between pals?”
You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.
“I didn’t expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.” Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. You’d never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastor’s “playing” was so convincing. You weren’t minding it, to your surprise, but you weren’t sure you understood the source material as well he did.
His head fell back with a roar, “Being an infrequent lover doesn’t mean I am a bad one.”
Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. “That would make them experts, compared to us,” You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.
“You think so?”, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, “Are you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldn’t be opposed to making you”, he grazed his nose against yours, “laugh.”
You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, “I don’t mind a good laugh, now and then.” Did you-you say that or Angel-you?
The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastor’s body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didn’t leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.
His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.
When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldn’t see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.
When did the playing around shift? Was this—- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?
You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place. Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, “Do you think this is what they’re doing now? Or is everyone already…”
A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.
Oh, yeah, no.
A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.
“What a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.
“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?”
Alastor’s ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.
”Oh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?” His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.
“No, Niffty, dear. That’s quite alright.”, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, “We were just— playing around.”
“Really? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.” She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, “Please don’t dirty the sofa, sir.” echoing behind her.
You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, “Can I be Husk next?”
I wrote this while washing dishes— the dishes aren’t very clean but neither am I
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th3casscad3 · 1 month
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In The Heat Of The Night
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It Was That Time Of Season For Alastor.. He Locked Himself Away In His Radio Tower Till He Rode Out His Rut.. But What Happens When A Certain Innocent Minded Reader Smells His Scent..? Warnings: Rut, Roughness, Praise Kink, Cream, Tentacles, Pleading, Growing In Size, Antlers, Ear Pulling, Breeding Kink, Knotting. G!N Reader. Words: 1193 Characters: 5523 ************************************************************************
It Was That Time Of The Year Again For Alastor. The Itching Sensation In His Antlers As They Tripled In Size. The Sweating Of His Body, His Hair Clinging On To His Face And Him Finding His Clothes Rather Hot. Alastor Had Been In His Radio Tower, He Was Going Over His Script For His Next Broadcast, Having A Soul He Wanted To Display. When Suddenly The Air Grew Thick And He Needed To Loosen His Clothing. He Threw Off His Pinstriped Coat And His Bowtie. His Fingers Desperately Found Themselves Undoing His Buttons On His Shirt. He Stumbled His Way Over To The Nearest Window, Desperately Searching For Fresh Air. It Was Then That He Noticed The Bulge In His Pants, Throbbing. He Grunted And Resisted The Urge To Dry Hump The Wall. He Leaned His Body Out Of The Window And Dropped His Head Down, His Antlers Feeling The Wind Against Them, Temporally Relieving His Desires. " Blasted This Season.. Such Disgust. " Alastor Growled Out, He Hated The Feeling Of Intimacy And Desire. It Was Nothing More Than A Demons Weakness. Giving Themselves To Another Person, The Mere Thought Made Him Sick. And Yet.. Here He Was Desperately Trying Not To Find A Mate Of His Own To Breed Into. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- On The Inside Of The Hotel, You Were Chatting Up With Everyone. Laughing About Angels Porn Films, Arguing With Husker About Showing Mere Kindness. But, That Just Led To Him Pushing You Off The Bar Counter With A " Whoops", When Suddenly You Found Yourself Rather Bored. So Naturally, You Decided To Go Look For The One Person You'd Be Able To Get A Good Reaction Out Of. You Searched The Halls, His Office, And His Bedroom. After A While You Decided To Finally Give Up When Suddenly, You Remembered You Hadn't Checked His Radio Tower. On Your Way Up To His Tower, You Caught A Whiff Of What Seemed To Smell Like...Cum And Pine? You Let Your Nose Led You To The Door Of Alastor's Tower. You Knocked. " Alastor..? Hey, You In There? " You Asked With A Slight Nerve. In Almost And Instant, The Door Flew Open And You Saw Alastor's State. He Looked A Mess. Before You Could Even Speak Alastor Threw You Inside And Locked The Door " You Know You Shouldn't Have Came Up Here, My Dear. " Alastor Spoke With A Heavy Static In His Voice. He Pressed You Against His Control Panel And Parted His Way In Between Your Thighs, Lifting You So You Were Sitting On Top Of It. " F- Forgive Me, Al. I.. I Just Wanted To Come Bother You! " You Pleaded. You Didn't Like How He Was Acting, You'd Be Lying If You Said You Weren't Scared. Alastor Took Notice Of This And Place His Finger Under Your Chin, Forcing You To Look Up At Him. " Ah, And Bother Me You Did. Now You Must Face The Consequences. " As Alastor Spoke, His Tentacles Came Out From The Shadow And Tore Of Your Clothes, You Were Now Laying There Exposed In Front Of Him. He Drank Up Your Body As His Tentacles, Covered Your Mouth And Pinned Your Wrist Together For What's About To Happen Next. --------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mouth Covered, The Only Sound You Could Make Were Muffled Cries. You Had Always Imagined Alastor To Be A Gentlemen When It Came To Intimacy, If He Had Ever Chosen To Do Such A Thing. But This, This Was Nothing Gentle About It. Before You Could Even Process What Was Happening, A Tentacle Shoved Itself Inside Of You. You Screamed Out Through The Tentacle And Alastor Simple Chuckled. Your Legs Trembled But Alastor Wouldn't Allow You To Close Them. He Admired Your State While The Tentacles Plowed Into Mercilessly. Watching The Tears Run Down Your Face, Only Turned Him On More. After A While Of Torturing You, He Pulled His Tentacle Out, Not Allowing You To Reach Your Climax. You Whined Out Until You Saw His Body Grow in Size. His Eyes Becoming Dials And His Neck Elongating. If He Didn't Look Like A Serial Killer Then, You Were Sure You Pee'd Yourself Now. He Unzipped His Pants And Uncovered His Throbbing Cock. You Took In His Size And Your Eyes Widened. You Wanted To Plead That It Wouldn't Fit But Instead He Slapped You. " You Speak When I Tell You " He Growled And Lined Himself Up With Your Area. " You Move When I Let You " He Slowly Starting Pushing His Head Inside You, Warming You Up. " And You Cum When I Give You Permission " With That He Pulled Back Out And Jammed Himself In Your Area. You Had To Forced Yourself Not To Cry Out In Pain. It Was Too Big, It Burned, Your Legs Twitched With An Aggression You've Never Felt Before. You Felt His Cock Deep Inside You. You Wanted To Scream, To Cry And Push Him Off But His Tentacles Held Your Wrists. You Couldn't Even Think Straight. Your Mind Was Fuzzy And Overstimulated. You Felt A Knot In Your Core And Knew You Were Close To Your Release. You Muffled Out. Pleading With Him To Let You Release. Alastor Towered Over You And Bit Down Into You Neck. His Moans On Full Effect. " What Did I Tell You. Such A Naughty One, Aren't We " He Then Lapped Up Your Blood Before Pounding Himself Into You Deeper. You Pulled On Your Wrists, Asking Him For Permission To Move Your Arms. He Agreed. Your Hands Instantly Went To His Ears. Yanking On Them With A Passion. Alastor Moaned Out And Bit You On Your Collarbone, Letting The Blood Fall Down Your Beautiful Skin. Red Always Was Your Color. You Muffled Out Again, Pleading, Begging To Release. Your Body Couldn't Hold Out Much Longer. You Needed To Let Go, The Knot In Your Stomach Only Buring More As You Let Out Some Pre-Cum. Alastor Removed The Tentacle From Your Mouth, Wanting To Hear All Those Pretty Little Sounds You Make. " A- Alastor!!.. Hah.. Please, Please.. Ngh.. I Need To- " You Couldn't Even Finish The Words, Your Mind Going Into Overdrive. Alastor's Tentacled Held Your Ankles Putting You In A New Position, One That Gave Me A Much Deeper Range. You Screamed. Your Legs Nealy Touching Your Head. Your Hands Now Grabbing His Antlers For Support. " Mm~ I'm Going To Breed You And Your Going To Take My Whole Seed " He Lowered Down To Your Level, Feeling The Knot In His Stomach As His Release Neared. His Cock Swelling Up Inside You As She Finally Filled Your Pretty Little Hole With His Seed. That Triggered Your Own Release As Well. You Both Rode Down This Crazy High As Alastor Returned To His Figure. His Cock Still Knee Deep Inside You And Stuck. After A While His Cock Un-Swelled And He Pulled Out Of You, Watching His Seed Pour Out Of You. Your Legs Finally Relaxed As You Laid Your Body Down On The Control Panel " You Took Me So Well~! I'm Proud. " He Chuckled As He Zipped His Pants Back Up, Going About His Studies Again, As If You Meant Nothing. " Next Time, I'll Make Sure My Seed Sticks~ "
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cowgurrrl · 1 year
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She’s A Gun
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry
Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]
Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!
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You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze. 
"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known. 
"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand. 
"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"
"I came here from Boston."
"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?" 
"Long story."
"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?" 
"I can get my own drink, but thank you."
"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."
"I work patrols, but good guess."
"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."
"Joel or Tommy?"
"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.
"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."
"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod. 
You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though. 
"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.
"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later. 
Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.
"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"
"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."
"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.
"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.
"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."
"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.
"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar. 
"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."
"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.
"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?" 
"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."
"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.
"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.
"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."
"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.
"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar. 
"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."
"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor. 
He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.
Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.
But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something. 
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Tag list: @evyiione
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rishiguro · 1 year
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HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING
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ft. bokuto; suna; atsumu: kuroo; ushijima
a/n: the fact that i posted this exact prompt on my deleted blog but i don't remember it anymore—
jjk version
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it was no secret that BOKUTO sometimes had problems controlling his emotions. he wasn't necessarily as affected by them as he was in high school, but there were enough moments that made him feel ashamed when he thought about them; just like he did right now. he was sobbing violently, his arms pressing you as close to you as ohysically possible. he wailed apologies, only stopping to take a breath every once in a while. he snapped out of his anger the moment the ring left his hand, but he was afraid that the damage couldn't be undone. he could only beg, proclaiming his love for you over and over, even if he knew that his behaviour just disproved his claims.
arguing with SUNA was tiresome. it was like he never even cared, not being attentive and only brushing you off. he never thought about the impact of his words once he did answer you, trying to get you off his back as soon as possible and with any means necessary. but even he understood when he went too far. he realized it when you took a deep breath, muttering something that he could not understand and turned around, disappearing into the bedroom only to come out a few minutes later with a bag over your shoulder, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed out the door. he clenched his jaw, picking the ring up and clenching his fist, staring out the window with a heavy chest.
ATSUMU was a prideful and confident person, he hated being confronted with his faults. he never really reacted well afterwards, either snickering a comment back or just waving the criticism off. no one was safe from this side of him, not even you. but he wasn't an idiot either. he saw the way your face fell when his ring landed on the floor, how you were shaking as you went and picked it up, only to retreat into the bedroom silently. he stayed still, not even daring to move an inch, only looking at the place you stood just a second ago. how did he let it go this far?
KUROO hated arguing and the yelling that came with it. he hated the irrational things he says during them, how every sense of reason is being thrown into the wind just to get to you because of his pride. and right after he threw his wedding ring across the room and stormed out, slamming the door behind him, he broke down, hugging his knees as he cried. he didn't know what came over him, he didn't know why he would ever think that what he did was okay but how could he face you after what he had done?
it was rare that arguments with USHIJIMA got so heated. you barely ended up shouting at each other, much less underline your words with some kind of big gestures. so it was even a bigger shock when he raised his voice at you, fiddling with the ring on his finger until throwing it away with some accusatory yell. you were too shocked to even say anything, only extending your arms in front of you to protect yourself as you stared at him with big eyes. he wanted to step closer, he wanted to hug you, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness; anything so that you wouldn't look so afraid of him anymore.
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reblogs are appreciated
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inkskinned · 1 year
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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.
oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.
oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.
which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.
but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.
which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.
and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!
and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.
the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!
and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -
what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.
and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.
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cu7ie · 7 months
Text
BIMBOFICATION. ft. geto suguru
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(>◡•́)— ★ authors note. IM BACK BITCHES. WITH THE HORNY SHIT AKAKKAKAKA . kinktober day one! masterpost here. ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ content warnings. dumbification, reader is a bimbo - ditzy, hypersexual, huge airhead vibes be warned. they are obedient and listen to what geto tells them. reader wears feminine clothes, has a 'clit', and is referred to as a 'girl', no use of she/her (ahahaha i love gender things). cock sucking throat fucking all that nasty gluk gluk shit y'eard?
You’re not stupid.
Forgetful, yeah! Occasionally uneducated, of course. But dumb? You’d surmise that conclusion to be a bit of a stretch; despite how often you find yourself trying to convince people of the contrary.
It is typical of humans to forego their ‘common sense’ on occasion, though it never seems to be a problem when anyone else does it! When Gojo eats all his candy and doesn’t share with anyone at the party, it’s cool; but when you do that, you get all kinds of pushback: “What’s wrong with you?” Nothing! The chocolate was gonna melt if you didn’t do something about it! “What are we supposed to give to the trick or treaters now?” All the twizzlers you left behind, duh.
Shoko gave you a look and sipped her sake, Gojo’s pointed barks of laughter chasing you back to the comfort of the kitchen. There you see Geto; your boyfriend, whose presence settles amicably in the gaps of your expression when he looks up at you with that beckoning fondness. He crooks his fingers and you bound over quite thoughtlessly, much to his evident amusement. 
Despite how much you insisted on matching costumes, Geto struck out of his own accord, the fake knife accompanying his Ghostface costume down on the counter. The real knife he was using to cut up the peppers is set aside as he busies himself with the sink.
You’re wearing one of those sexy school uniforms. Mini bordering on microskirt, paired with a cute number that shows your midriff- the dip in your chest. Your gogo boots click noisily on the floor a little as you sidle up next to him.
Geto pats your head when you get close enough, hands damp after a fresh rinse, and you preen from the contact. “Hey babyyy!” You gush a little, setting down the rest of the candy on the counter. “Can you get me a bowl?” He tilts head at you a little, looks down at the bag a second.
“Babe, didn’t I tell you to get the big bag?” Geto asks and shuffles over to the cabinet as you wash your hands to pick up where he left off. “Yeah! I did, doesn’t it look big to you?” 
“Yeah… of course it does. But remember that conversation we had about eating things that aren’t yours?” He brings back the bowl, but also a sternness to his grin, which all of a sudden doesn’t meet his eye. “Well yeah Suguru!” You’re looking down now, cutting vegetables with sudden interest and precision, sweeping it up into little piles. “It's not like I'm stupid …” His figure lingers in your periphery as the words leave your lips, the air about him suddenly feeling … tense. 
Then his hand is on yours.
“Look at me honey.” He gives you a squeeze, and you go to look up on instinct. Hesitate. “What?” Your grip on the knife softens, and it soon clatters atop the cutting board. “What, I said.”
“I never said you were stupid.” Your eyes met his before you realized, and the indignant scowl you want to make shrivels up inside you like a dried cocoon. “You just have a hard time saying what you mean right?” He blinks owlishly at you. “I know you don’t wanna lie to me.” “But I’m not-” Geto interrupts with a shake of his head. “Maybe one time I could forgive you, but twice? To my face?” You feel the sun in your face, fire hot heat setting you ablaze with embarrassment, feigned ignorance. A nagging feeling to obey. “I… I..”
“You?” He chimes cloyingly. You stiffen your upper lip. Hone your resolve. 
“M’not lying! Now lemme go!” Your arm budges when he wants it to, so you’re not quite moving until a few agonizing seconds pass, when Suguru lets out a low whistle and sigh, shaking his head at you dismissively, before you’re allowed to resume cutting vegetables. He dumps the candy into the rest of the bowl and takes his leave, chattering with his friends in the living room before coming back, empty handed.
The silence is maddening. He comes back, shuffles around the kitchen, then stops somewhere just beyond your sight, and craning your neck to look back at him would beckon his scrutiny. So you refrain. Stir fry the vegetables, and refrain. Feel a bead of sweat crest on your forehead and slide down your cheek from the heat. Refrain.
The breath against your neck is sudden and swift as Suguru fixes himself behind you, knocking  his head gently against yours as a grasping hand slides over your stomach.  He goes for the gas on the stove before you can get a protest out, his other hand teasing the rim of your skirt, smoothing down a short pleat till his palm can grope your thigh.
“After a little deliberation … I’ve decided I forgive you. For the lying.” His fingers dimple the skin he touches, sliding ever so slowly under the fabric. “Because I know you’re not a silly girl. You can be quite attentive when you want to be, can’t you?” 
“Yeah… yeah I can.” Your breath quickens a little as you press your ass back into the thin fabric of his hood, the feeling of his cock growing to hardness making you quiver with anticipation. His right hand on your thigh stills, tracing around your side and to your hip - growing stiff and heavy. The left dips boldly under your costume, a finger or two stalling in the spot right above your clit.
“Gojo and Shoko offered to get more candy - I can finish cooking after we’re finished here.” His lips press teasingly against the shell of your ear, and your resistance dwindles a bit. “Right now, all I want from you is a favor.” “Favor? I can do that - I can..” Geto chuckles. “I know you can sweetheart. Shh, sh. It’s my turn to do the talking now, okay? Listen.” You nod sharply. 
“Turn around.” You do. In an instant, stretching out your spine cat-like to press your chest up against him, your nipples hardening like pebbles beneath your blouse. You close your eyes and lean in for the kiss that should be inevitable - but no warmth meets your lips. Instead, an apathetic gloved finger. “Mmph?” Your confusion is apparent. You blink your eyes open and are greeted by a wry smile.
“Sometimes I wonder why it’s so hard for you to just listen. Then it came to me - an epiphany. Little girls like you just have a certain kind of skill set. Forgive me, okay? I just wasn’t giving you the right direction. But it’s okay! It’ll never happen again.” With those words, his expression grows less compromising - resolute, grim, determined. Almost makes you want to leap out of your skin - the fright of him not being happy with you bearing down greatly on your mind.
His hands come up to your shoulders and apply downward pressure. “On your knees.” 
You follow without hesitation.
His mirth wrinkles the corners of his eyes as you squirm down there. The floor is cold and your knees are getting dirty, and he knows that stupid look you make when you’re thinking to complain; though he’s never seen this level of restraint from you before. You’re quiet as you dig your fingers into your skin, and he knows he’s proud.
“Good girl.” Something blossoms in your chest when he says that, profound yet airy, a lightheadedness emblazoned into your forehead while the blood settles in your cheeks. Then that damn hand comes down again; which you thought was gonna muss your hair a bit more, but settles rather firmly against the back of your head.
His loose costume he’s wearing isn’t big enough to hide how hard his cock is, but it’s like he’s making you wait for it - want and yearn for it. Because he doesn’t move for a moment, just gets used to the look of you down on your knees as your fidgeting starts to feel more and more uncontrollable.
“Hey! Are you just gonna leave me high n’ dr-” A white finger presses to his lips as his other hand keeps holding your head. “Quiet now, girl. Be quiet.”
You’re good! A little impatient, but you’re good, goddamn it! Trying to be, for him - the love of your life, who’s got you down on your knees, fixing to ruin your pretty makeup for the afternoon.
Quiet. 
Quiet. 
Too damn quiet. Too much fucking silence. He’s looking at you, you think - because your eyes are shut tight and the embarrassment is beginning to dawn on you, and everything’s hot, and scary, and Suguru - is he mad at you?-
The sudden feeling of his hot hard cock flopping against your cheek makes you leap like a fish to water. Your eyes bulge open a bit, and your mouth gapes open in that instant, tongue lolling out for purchase on his heated flesh, heady scent weaseling into your nostrils and making your thighs clamp down around your own hand - which you hadn’t noticed snuck between your thighs. Your twitching fingers reach up to grab it …
“Stop.” You whine loose and loud, eyes flickering up to his face to communicate your desperation, and confusion. “Just use your mouth.” His hand reaches towards the base of his cock and flops it onto your lip proper; and you suckle on the head like it’s the sole thing providing you oxygen. “See? There are things you’re damn good at … Oh fuck -”  All you can hear besides his voice is your heart thumping in your chest and the saliva building in your mouth, the sloppy ‘schlorp’ as you take him to the base - deep into your throat - and back out again, the salty taste of his cock and precum something you’ve missed terribly.
A little voice crawls along the back of your mind. At home, it says. This is where you belong. Or maybe that’s Suguru’s wheedling. Words are falling from his lips, but you’re drowning in an effortless dream. “Good girl. … easy … taking me so well.”
The grip on the back of your head has grown tighter, as he shifts and adjusts his hips to help your further along. Your wet slurping is undercut by the sound of his balls slapping against your chin, fuzzy, familiar and pleasant. 
Then it’s as stern as a pinch. You can feel his cock bulge out your throat, cheeks hollowed as you take him to the base. Tears sting your eyes a bit, but it’s a liberating pain. His grunts grow in their intensity, and you feel soaked to the bone, sitting on your hands so they can’t jump up and fondle his balls - you won’t disobey! You refuse, refuse, refuse -
“Close, haah, close your eyes, precious.” Your tummy flutters as you weld them shut. Suguru’s hips stutter, pause, then pull back. 
A schlicking sound, then your prize. You open your mouth as you realize he’s cumming all over your face - streams of it making it into your happily awaiting maw, while the occasional strand undershoots - getting some on your chest and cheeks. Suguru sighs happier than you’ve heard in a while, and a part of you feels effortlessly at ease. Reset and pleasant and whole; besides the aching nag between your thighs. “You can speak now.” You try, throat fucked raw and a little raggedy. “A-are you going to fuck me now? Please? I can’t - I can’t wait anymore!” Suguru smiles gently, but insincerely. “No, of course not. This was a lesson, not a reward.” He tucks himself casually back into his costume. “Besides, we have guests, honey.”
You pout, feel like you wanna cry a little. “Don’t give me those crocodile tears. You’re a big girl, remember?”
“...I guess.”  You sniffle. Suguru nods and helps you back to your shaky feet. “Not ‘I guess’. You are.” He grants you a chaste kiss on your lips, licking a bit of himself off of you, then pulling back. “Now, go clean yourself up.” He starts towards the sink, eager to resume dinner. “Those two should be back any second now.”
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talaok · 1 month
Note
Okay, so I have a cute idea. Pedro and reader go to a bar and accidentally drink a little more than they wanted to, and now they are walking home together, leaning on one another and giggling the whole way. Maybe they have their first kiss or something. idk, im giving you creative freedom on the last part.
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
a/n: cutest request award
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that last glass of wine had had its effect
Your brain felt lighter, like the crimson liquid had relieved some of the effort from your head
Your vision was fuzzier, unfocused in that familiar way as a soft buzz flowed into your ear
The pavement ahead was still damp with rain, and some water had gotten into your shoes, but you didn't care, you didn't care as you leaned onto Pedro, onto his strong, warm arm, as you looked up at his own glossy eyes, veiled by that sheer cloak of alcohol flowing through his veins
He was still laughing at something you'd said, and you didn't even realize that you were doing the same,
You couldn't even remember what the joke was. Something about... rain or... something
"We're gonna regret this tomorrow" he said, amusement still spilling from his lips
"I'm sure you will, old man" you snorted, hiding your face into his arm to shield from his reaction
"Old man huh?" he chuckled "Is that the way to talk to your elderly?"
"oh please" you snorted, smiling up at him as he feigned offense "I'm sorry sir, that was very rude of me, please forgive me"
The corners of his mouth twitched into a soft grin
"With that smile, I don't think anyone could ever not forgive you, sweetheart"
He did that sometimes, said something sweet that made you forget all about what your lungs were made for
Once again, you shielded your heating face from him by nestling impossibly close to him, feeling his warmth seep into you
He had a body that made hell seem cold
"You're a douchba-"
but before you could speak the very kind words you were about to speak, you had taken a step and found yourself ankle-deep into something that upon closer inspection, was indeed a puddle
You had stepped into a puddle.
Your feet were drenched
You-
You burst out laughing
"oh my god- sugar" Pedro was gripping your arm, bringing you back to dry land as he stifled the need to laugh too
"I-"
You were pretty sure you were about to pee yourself from how hard you were laughing, your eyes were shut close, you had one hand on your face and one on Pedro and then-
and then your feet stopped touching the ground
"Wha-" 
He had picked you up, bridal style, and all you could do was swing your arms around his neck as a reflex "what are you doing?"
"it's clear you're in no condition to walk, so I'm taking matters into my own hands"
And he said it so calmly too, like it was the most obvious thing in the word
"you're taking matters into your own hands?" you mocked, cocking a brow as you bit your bottom lip to try not to laugh
"I am" he nodded,
"You're gonna carry me all the way to the hotel?" you couldn't help but smile now,
smile with amusement and joy and drunkness and... and something else
"What, you think I'm too old for that too?"
You snorted now, your head falling to his chest 
"maybe" you mumbled, your mouth on his steel pecs as you looked up at him
And there was something in that, in all this- not in the fact that he was carrying you like a damsel in distress, not the fact that you were dizzy, not in any of that- there was something in the intimacy of this moment, of the lightness that came with it, how natural it all felt, how... perfect it felt
And he felt it too, you could see in his eyes, that he too had felt time stop, the entire world stop to let you have this moment, this precious instant
"y/n-"
But your lips were already on his, your lips were already on his and nothing mattered anymore as he gripped your shoulder to push you incredibly closer to him, wishing he could engulf you and never let you go, praying for this moment to never end
finally
the only word inside both your heads
finally
He was such a good kisser, his mouth, his beard, his lips, his everything just-
The problem was that he thought the same about you, and maybe if you'd been less of a good kisser, or if only he hadn't spent the last six months fantasizing about this... then maybe he wouldn't have dropped you
"shit-"
Well not really dropped you, he just... forgot to hold your legs, that's all
Only of course, he was there to rescue you as your feet hit the ground, making sure you didn't fall
A soft, honest laugh rumbled from your chest as you dropped your forehead to his
"I'm sorry" he murmured, his hands on your waist "I- I got- distracted"
Again, you could only laugh, this time as he joined
"you got distracted?"
"Yeah" he chuckled
"wanna get distracted again?" you smirked, watching his eyes pan to your lips
"please"
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strawberryyivy · 3 months
Text
➜ GARDENS OF BABYLON
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summary: clarisse la rue x daughter of apollo reader. reader hates clarisse until she doesn't hehe. reader is a little bit of a bitch sorry!! just a bit tho! ooc clarisse maybe? and no smut ofc :) just sweet girls in love mwah
warning: reader dates a man but there's not a lot of details about that, bad writing sorry:/
word count: 5k (im so sorry i got carried away)
Help Palestine 🇵🇸!
It could be love, we could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it
You weren't sure about many things in your life, but one think that you were pretty sure about, was the that you and Clarisse had nothing in common.
She was rude and mean. She didn't hesitate when it came to hurting people. She was cold. She was exactly what you expect an Ares child to be like. So you tried to keep your distance as much as possible.
It was hard, though. The first time you went to camp, you were twelve, extremely scared and insecure, and she did not help your case, at all. You still remembered, how rude she was to you on your first week, how upset she made you and how she made fun of you for crying afterwards. You still remembered watching as the smile appeared on her face the second she saw the tears in your eyes. You could never forget that look. And you could definitely never forgive her, either.
After that, you had very small interactions, you got claimed after two months, which was good enough for you. You made friends, you grew up and gained confidence in yourself and in your abilities. And that whole incident with Clarisse just became a distant memory. But she was still always around. And you were always trying to pretend like she wasn't.
But your whole opinion on her was about to change, and it all started one night, at the bonfire.
At the time you were dating a guy, Jacob, and you liked Jason, you really did, he was nice – most of the time, he was funny– sometimes, he liked to spend time with you, and you never heard anything bad about him. And you were having fun, he was entertaining you, which sounded wrong, and although, you could never admit it out loud, that's all that he was. Entertainment. So the moment he expressed his wish for more, for something a bit more serious, you called it off.
Reality was, you didn't want a relationship, you didn't need one. Your life was crazy as it is, you didn't need one more thing to be preoccupied about, you just wanted to have fun, that's all you needed at the moment. But he did not take that well. That guy you knew disappeared the moment you told him you wanted to stop seeing him.
And yes, maybe it was kind of bad that you decided to end things at the bonfire, with people around – people that could easily listen to your conversation and spread the gossip later. And sure, maybe you were a bit cold towards him, but he did not need to make a scene, a huge scandal. And that was exactly what he did.
You still remember the dirty looks people gave you afterwards, all the whispers, all the rumors surrounding you two. And it made you crazy, people knew nothing about the situation, but they still talked like they did.
And that's when Clarisse came in. You didn't know she was there that night, you didn't know she saw the whole thing.
You were practicing your favorite activity, archery. It made you feel calm, in the moment, and that's exactly what you needed. That was, until you heard a very familiar voice, speaking close to you, way too close.
"Hi pretty"
You could swear your heart stopped for a moment, you turned around fast, the bow and arrow in your hands quickly forgotten.
The moment you met her eyes, your stomach flipped, a weird and unusual feeling making its way to your chest. Her eyes were locked on yours, her body was close enough that you could feel her breath in your face, you could see the gold in her eyes due to the sun light. And it all just added to that uneasy feeling.
And you were still trying to process the fact that she called you pretty.
"Hello." your voice sounded weak, it made you curse yourself.
"Do you have a minute? Promise it'll be quick." Clarisse tilted her head a little, a small smile on her face.
You looked around, trying to understand what was going on. She had no good reason to talk to you, you weren't her friend, or anything, for that matter. Maybe it was one of those times when she just wanted to bully someone and you were the chosen one. That thought made you back away from her.
"No, I don't."
You turned around, putting your bow and arrow on their place and ready to go back to your cabin, far away from her.
"Oh come on, princess, why not?" You could still hear her as you walked away, hoping she would get the hint. "Aren't you a little curious to know what I wanna talk about?"
You felt her hand on your wrist, making you turn around, face to face with her again. "It's about your little boy Jacob, you know? The one who humiliated you in front of everyone?"
She still had that stupid smile on her face, making you roll your eyes. "And what does whatever you want have to do with me? We are not together anymore, and I don't want anything to do with you. Or him!" you were about to leave when you heard her again.
"I want revenge. Are you sure you're not interested?" you turned around slowly, studying her face. "That little shithead hurt one of my sisters, and I haven't put anyone in their place in a while."
That last part made your heart skip a beat, you knew exactly what she meant, you were one of those people once. But different to Jason, you were just a kid, you didn't deserve what she did to you.
"No, I'm not. Have fun terrorizing him though, you always do anyway."
For the third time, you walked away from her, and much for your disappointment, she let you go.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
"Did you do anything stupid lately?"
You lifted your eyes from your food and looked at your friend in front of you, laughing a little at her question. "What?"
"Like, I don't know, did you do something that I need to know about?" the confusion in your eyes made her look behind you, making you turn your head to look as well. Clarisse was staring at you, a weird expression on her face. "She won't stop staring, please tell me you didn't do something against her, that girl could easily kill–"
"Oh gods, I didn't do anything!" You couldn't help but laugh again, turning back to Anya. "She's just probably upset I turned down an offer she made a few days ago."
"What offer? Why don't I ever know about anything?!"
"It's nothing important really, she wants to do something to Jacob, I don't know what, I just know he hurt her sister and I think she wanted my help to 'put him in his place'? Her words not mine."
"Wow, that's weird. And you just simply said no? Just like that?"
"I mean yeah, I don't want him to hate me even more than he already does."
"Makes sense."
You two went back to being silent for a second, before Anya spoke again. "You know, maybe she wanted to get close to you, or something, I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, why would she ask your help on something she could easily do it on her own? I mean, it's a bit weird, right? Maybe she wanted to get to know you."
"I doubt that."
You tried not to think much about it, and pretend that you didn't like the idea of Clarisse wanting to be close to you. But as you closed your eyes that night, ready to go to sleep, the only thing you could think about was pretty brown eyes, with a little bit of gold in them.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
Two days later, as you were walking to practice you saw Jacob, he didn't see you, he was talking to his friend, something you couldn't really hear, but what really caught your attention, was when he lifted up his shirt, his stomach was dark purple, bruises all over it. And you didn't have to think twice to figure out who did that.
And you didn't know why, you just needed to see her, you needed to ask her so many questions, so that's exactly what you did.
You knocked on her cabin door, that heavy and weird feeling on your chest again, waiting for someone to answer. One of her brothers opened the door, looking you up and down. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, is Clarisse here?"
He nodded, but not to say that she was in fact there, he nodded like he knew exactly what you meant.
"Yeah, sure." he left the door open and started to leave the cabin, not before saying with a weird laugh: "Have fun!"
You looked at him confused, having no idea why would he even say that to you, but you decided to not think much about and just go in.
She was sitting on her bed, palm resting on one of her thighs, black nail polish in her other hand. She was painting her nails, and for some reason, that surprise you.
Sure, you've seen her wearing nail polish before, but the look on her face was a rare one, she looked so concentrated, almost peaceful, and you couldn't help but think she looked pretty like that, her curls framing her face.
"Who was it?" she didn't look up from her nails when she said that, probably thinking you were her brother.
"It was me."
You could see the smile on her face before she look up, her eyes shining when she saw you. "Hi pretty."
Ignore the nickname. Ignore the nickname.
"What did you do to him?"
"Sorry?" she got up, walking towards you now, her eyes were dark, the peaceful Clarisse you just saw disappearing.
"I saw his bruises, that was you, wasn't it?"
You didn't know why you were so mad at her, you didn't even like him, you couldn't care less about him if you were being honest, but the need to confront her about it seemed to be more strong than being reasonable.
She tilted her head, a smirk on her face.
"What if it was? Do you have a problem with that?"
"Yes, I do, actually, you shouldn't go around just beating people up."
"Oh really? Why not? He hurt someone I care about, he deserved it."
She didn't sound mad at you, she sounded amused, like she liked the fact that you were talking back.
In reality, she just liked that you were there, in her cabin, so close to her, your eyes locked on hers like you were scared that if you looked anywhere else, she might disappear. But you didn't need to know that.
"Like you care about anyone who isn't yourself, you did that just for fun. Because that's what you do!"
"And why are you so mad about that anyway, hm? You said you didn't wanna have anything to do with it, remember?" she took one more step closer to you, your faces inches apart, you felt her hand on your arm. "Do you still like him or something? Because if I remember correctly, you broke his heart, right? So why do you care so much?"
You didn't know what to say, she was right. And that pissed you off even more.
"I just- I–" You could see her smile growing at your loss of words, her hand on your arm making you even more nervous. "Fuck you, Clarisse."
The feeling in your chest got too strong, you realized how close she was to you, her pretty smile on her face. However her eyes were not on yours anymore, she was looking at your lips, breathing heavy.
Then her eyes met yours again. "Why are you here, y/n?"
"You know why." you stepped back a little, but before you could say anything else you felt her lips on yours.
And you didn't think twice before kissing her back. Her lips were soft, her hands were on your face, and yours made their way to her hips. She smiled during the kiss, making your head spin even more.
"No, wait– that's not what I came for!" you finally came to your senses again, breathing even heavier now. "I don't even like you! I could never like you! You're so... you're awful, you're an awful person!"
Before she could say something, you stormed out of her cabin. And she just stood there, not believing what had just happened.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
A few days since that afternoon had passed and you still couldn't believe that happened. She just kissed you, out of the blue, for no reason at all.
You could still feel her soft lips on yours, her hands on your face, and your heart beating fast against your chest.
But the worst part of it all, is that you liked it, and you couldn't deny it anymore. You couldn't deny your stupid crush on Clarisse. You couldn't deny that's the reason why you got so upset when she mistreated you years ago, that was the reason why you couldn't think straight when it came to her.
Yes she was mean, and a bully – most of the time, she was stubborn and impulsive, but unfortunately for you – and your stupid dumb heart, that didn't make much of a difference. You tried to convince yourself that you hated her for so many years, and yet here you are.
When reality sinked in, you felt panic, because she was the last person you wanted to have feelings for, she was the last person you'd give a chance. So you decided that you were going to repress those feelings, it didn't matter if it hurt you, you would never open your heart to her. You just couldn't.
But apparently the universe had other plans, because while you were at the beach, enjoying the sun, lost in thought, she saw you. Lucky for her, bad luck for you.
You heard her say your name, and before you could run away from her, she sat down beside you, making it impossible for you to look away.
"Where have you been? You just disappeared! Are you avoiding me or something?"
Her voice was soft, you never heard her speaking like this, almost like she was afraid you'd run away if she wasn't careful with her words.
Your stomach felt weird, your heart was beating fast again, and your hands were shaking. All because she noticed. She noticed that you were avoiding her. And for some weird reason, that made you feel special.
"Yeah, well, how did you find me?"
"I threatened one of your friends to tell me where you were." she said that like it was the most obvious think in the world, like you were dumb to even be asking her that question. "I just– I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
You looked up from the sand, surprise evident in your face, did she just apologize to you?
"You're sorry?"
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm really bad at this, I just wanted to say that, I'm sorry if I offended you by kissing you, I should've asked first, I just– I felt– I mean, I thought I felt something there but it was just all in my head and I didn't mean to–
You lost your mind, you were sure of it, because now, you were the one kissing her.
One of your hands went to the back of her neck, making her relax under your touch. Her lips moved with yours in the perfect rhythm, like it was meant to be, like you were made to do this, with her.
Her hands were on your back, bringing you closer and closer to her, as if that was possible, and you only stopped kissing when you felt the need for air. Her forehead touched yours, both of you breathing heavy.
"I thought you– I'm... confused." She leaned away a little, still holding you.
In that moment, you didn't know what to say, cause you were as confused as she was. You didn't know why you kissed her, you promised yourself you would stay away, and yet your lips were on hers the moment she got close to you.
"You said you didn't like me." her voice was still soft, but now, a little more serious, her eyes studying your face. "You said you could never like me, did I understand that wrong or what?"
You shook your head, you felt suffocated now that she was so close, asking you questions, making you rethink your terrible decisions and complicated feelings.
"You didn't understand that wrong, that's– yeah, I said that."
Your hand wasn't on her face anymore, and you were getting up. Why did she have to make you feel like this?
"Hey, you're not running away this time! Talk to me." She got up too, getting close to you again.
Her eyes felt like they were burning holes in your skin, making you avoid them. And before you could speak for yourself, try and explain, your anxiety spoke for you.
"What do you want from me, Clarisse? It was just a kiss, does a kiss have to mean anything? I wanted to kiss you, so I did, big fucking deal!"
When you got the courage to look at her again, you couldn't see the soft Clarisse anymore. She nodded her head, looking away from you, letting out a sarcastic laugh.
"You wanted to kiss me, so you did, hm?"
Her voice was cold and her eyes even colder. You nodded your head, if that would help you stay away from her, then you were going to run with it.
She didn't say anything back, she just turned around and left you alone. Not knowing that if she stayed just one more second, she would see the tears streaming down your face.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
You felt horrible, actually, if there was a stronger word for what you were feeling you'd use it, but no amount of words could really describe how you felt.
The guilt was eating you, and you couldn't stop crying, you didn't even know why you were crying in the first place; maybe it was because you realized that you actually had feelings for Clarisse, maybe it was because you were mean to her just because you were scared, or maybe you were just overwhelmed. Either way, the tears wouldn't stop scrolling.
And you did the only thing you knew would help you, you talked to your friend.
"Wait, walk me through it again... you have feelings for who?"
"Please don't make me repeat it!" your hands went to your face, too embarrassed to even think about it.
Anya let out a laugh before she grabbed your wrists, making you look at her again.
"I'm sorry! I just thought you hated her?"
"I guess the hate was just a cover up, I actually do like her a lot. Unfortunately."
"You don't think she likes you back?"
You thought about it for a moment.
You were sure she did, you were sure she liked you back, and was what made it all so scary to you. The fact that you both liked each other, the fact that she could easily hurt you, just like she did years ago, just with a few words. The fact that you could hurt her, just like you did, earlier that day.
With Jacob, it was easy, he liked you, you didn't like him. The moment you got bored and he wanted more, you ended it, and you felt bad, but you also felt safe. You were safe that way, he couldn't hurt your feelings even he tried. That was easy.
With Clarisse,wouldn't be that way, she would know exactly what to do to make you feel pain. If you let her in, she would know just what buttons to push, and that scared you more than anything.
"I just think... I just think it would hurt too much."
Anya gave you a sympathetic look, a small smile on her face. "But if you really like her, don't you think is worth it? Don't you think she's worth it?"
Once again you went to sleep thinking about her. Your mind asking you again and again, is she worth it?
•┈୨♡୧┈•
You felt low in your life a few times.
First, was when your fish died, you were only six and as weird as it sounds, it was your best friend at the time. Second time, was when your grandmother died, when you were eight, she was basically your second mom, and seeing her sick and unable to do anything about it killed you to the core. And the third time was when you found out you had to live your life behind and go to camp, when you found out that you actually had a dad, an unusual one, but you did, and you had to get used to your new life.
And now, it was definitely one of those low points.
You could feel your heart break the moment you saw them together, Clarisse and some girl that you didn't know the name. They were sitting together on the steps of the Ares cabin, Clarisse was touching the other girl's leg, whispering in her ear and making her laugh. You felt sick.
You stopped walking, unable to breathe or to move, staring at them like your life depended on it.
"Oh gods." You could hear Anya say on your right. "Maybe we should go the other way."
Before they could see you, you started walking again, feeling anger and disgust after seeing that. But then it hit you.
You told her the kiss didn't mean anything. You said you didn't like her. You told her you could never like her. You made her believe you didn't feel anything. You had no right to be angry, you had no right to be upset. You just needed to accept that she was moving on, and maybe you should try doing the same.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
A few days later capture the flag happened, as usual the blue team won, which was good, it made you forget about Clarisse for at least a few hours.
But afterwards, at the bonfire, you saw her again, with that same girl. And she looked so beautiful, it was hard to be mad at her. Her hair was down as usual, and she had a black t-shirt on, and it was so tight that made you forget how to breathe for a second.
"Tough, huh?"
You looked to your left, seeing one of her brothers standing next to you, the same one you saw the day you went to their cabin, he was looking at Clarisse as well, his face expression hard to read.
"What do you mean?"
"Seeing her with someone else."
He answered that like it was obvious, looking over at you.
That made your head spin, did she talk about you to her siblings?
"What?! No! We weren't– we never–"
"No, I get it!" he interrupted you, your rambling annoying him. "I was just betting that you would be the one."
"Wait, what?"
This whole situation was giving you a headache.
"Well, you know, in between you and her, I thought you would win, Clarisse was never really fond of her, you know?"
You blinked at him a few times, letting his words sink in. Gathering up courage to ask what was on your mind.
"You think we could work? I mean, we don't even get along." it was supposed to sound nonchalant, like you didn't mean anything by asking that, but unfortunately, he read right through you.
"Yeah, I think you could work. I wouldn't give up on it so easy if I were you."
Before you could ask him anything else, he started to leave but not before saying: "And don't worry, I won't tell her that we had this conversation."
•┈୨♡୧┈•
You could swear you never felt more nervous in your life than at that moment, you were at the door of the Ares cabin, feeling anxiety wash over you. Trying not to shake too much because of the cake in your hand.
And before you could overthink what you were doing, you knocked on the door, taking a deep breath and smoothing your shirt.
She opened the door, her eyes were as cold as you expected, she was staring at you, and then the little box you were holding, and then at you face again.
"Hi." You tried to sound normal. "Can we talk?"
She tilted her head a little to the side, a smile on her face. "I don't think so."
Why did you think it was gonna be easy?
She went to close the door, but before she could, you held it open, getting closer to her.
"Clarisse, please? I really wanna talk."
"Well, I really don't care."
But she didn't move, she didn't back away from you or tried closing the door again, she just stood there, hand on the door knob.
"I have cake!" she looked a little confused, looking at the small box you were holding again. "Orange cake, it's delicious. It's... for you."
You sounded out of breath, like you just ran a marathon.
She sighed and turned around, leaving the door open for you.
"Everybody, get out!"
Without saying anything, her siblings left, some of them giving you a glare, but most left without even looking at you.
Clarisse looked over at your direction again and gesture for you to get in.
"Nice bow."
When you turned around to look at her, she was leaning on the door, like she was ready to kick you out at any minute.
"Thank you." You said touching the bow in your hair, trying not to smile at the fact she complimented you.
She stared at you for a few seconds and rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here? Because if you're just going to stand there–"
"I came to apologize." You took one step closer to her, feeling a little bit more confident. "The way I treated you at the beach... that was horrible, I'm so sorry. You don't need to forgive me or anything but I just– I just wanted to say that I like you. And I didn't want to admit that, because, it's so scary, and you make me feel like I'm gonna die sometimes because of how fast my heart beats when you're around."
"And I was so ready to just pretend I don't feel this way, but then I saw you with that girl and, I just can't do that. Giving us a chance might hurt me in the future but not having you right now hurts just the same, and I can't take it. And I know I'm a coward and–"
"Is that orange cake you said?"
"I'm sorry?" you looked at her like she just said the most offensive thing known to man. "That's it? That's what you took from all that? I'm opening my heart to you."
She took a few steps closer to you, an infuriating smile on her face. "Yeah, I heard that part, how did you even get this cake?"
"It was one of my sisters birthday yesterday and–, you know what, it doesn't matter, don't you think you have something to say to me?"
You were so annoyed, was she dismissing everything you just said?
"Oh, like what?"
"Like... like, you like me back maybe? Maybe an apology for being so horrible to me years ago? Maybe–"
"Gods, you talk so much."
And then she kissed you. But this time, it was different. She was kissing you like she was trying to tell you everything she couldn't put into words, hoping you'd understand.
Without stopping the kiss, she took the cake out of your hands, putting it on a table behind you. Her own grabbing your waist.
You touched the back of her neck, not wanting to let go of her, trying to make this moment last for was long as you could.
When she leaned away, she had a smile on her face, a genuine one.
"Did you mean everything you just said?"
You nodded, still holding her. "More than anything."
"I'm sorry I was mean to you." You were about to kiss her again but she pulled away. "And I like you too by the way, don't know if you were able to catch that."
You shook your head and laughed a little. "No, I got that part, but thanks."
"And also, I love orange cake."
You gave her a smile before leaning in to kiss her again.
•┈୨♡୧┈•
After that, you would spend most of your free time with Clarisse, you guys would go on long walks at night, she would help you practice whenever she got the chance and you would always end up in her cabin somehow.
"Oh gods! Just stop moving!"
You couldn't stop laughing, you guys were sitting on her bed, her hand on your thigh, while you were holding her tube of black nail polish, painting her nails.
"What? Can't I kiss my girlfriend?"
She wouldn't stop moving, trying to get close to you at all cost, holding your face with her free hand, making you look at her. She had a huge smile on her face, making you smile too.
"Am I your girlfriend?"
"Of course you are."
Her voice was so soft, and her hand on your face felt comforting. Making you want to melt into her.
"Okay then." you gave her a peck on the cheek. "Will you let your girlfriend finish painting your nails?"
She laughed and laid her head on your shoulder. "Yes ma'am."
A few seconds later, she heard your vocie again.
"Clarisse?"
"Yes?"
"I could spend the rest of my life with you like this."
She didn't answer you for a few seconds, watching her nails turn black, your delicate hands doing a way better job than she ever could.
She lifted her head from your shoulder, focusing on your concentrated face. A small smile on her lips.
"Yeah, me too."
Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.
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blyth-me · 3 months
Text
make up: coriolanus snow
Summary: Coriolanus pushes it too far in an argument and after days of receiving the cold shoulder, he's tired of being ignored.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, arranged marriage, mentions of Sejanus, cursing, unhealthy ways of dealing with arguments, mentions of alcohol, dom!coryo, possessiveness, biting, penetrative sex (p in v), unprotected sex, young politician!coryo, praise
SMUT 18+ MDNI! IF I CANNOT SEE YOUR AGE, DO NOT INTERACT. ALL MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: This is the first thing I've written in years so please be gentle. This is unedited, sorry for any typos. based on this post.
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"Never leave a fight unresolved."
It's a saying your parents drilled into you as a child. They would rarely argue in front of you, but when they did, they made sure to apologize in front of you, too. They were the perfect examples of love, forgiveness, and compromise. As a child, you followed suit, always apologizing and forgiving quickly. When you didn't want to be quick to forgive, you would replay the saying in your mind over and over until you believed it. Thankfully, you didn't get into too many arguments or conflicts and the words of your mother and father were rarely necessary. Unfortunately, not everyone grew up with your parents.
"It's the secret to a happy marriage." Your mother insisted as she adjusted your veil before you met your father to escort you down the aisle. A happy marriage, you thought, not an arranged one. Your father had risen to significant political success and popularity when you were a child and he intended on maintaining his legacy. When you turned twenty-two, he explained as though it was no big deal that you, his "precious girl" would marry Coriolanus Snow. Your face crinkled in disgust at the news, you remember it clearly, but you forgave your father. You told yourself if you forgave your father and practiced tolerance with your assigned husband, you could be happy one day.
This, however, was not the case.
Coriolanus met you for the first time a week after your father broke the news about your husband-to-be. He came to your father's summer house and was polite, a little blunt, and reserved. He seemed cold, but not necessarily towards you. There was something... inexplicable and sad about him. You decided that all the rumors you heard about his time in the districts were true as you listened to him speak about Mr. and Mrs. Plinth. He seemed to have remorse? No, suspicious guilt, as he spoke about his late friend Sejanus. Somehow, the death of his "dearest friend" turned carefully into a discussion of his heroism and kindness to the Plinth's after the death of their beloved son. His expert manipulation made your skin crawl as you watched him win your parents over that dinner. You had to forgive him for that to make your arrangement tolerable. After all, this marriage was to further his career as a young politician and cement your father's.
For the first months of your marriage, you took all of Coriolanus' distance with a grain of salt. "He's seen things out there," your mother reminded you, "be understanding." You did your best to uphold your wifely duties to a man you didn't love (or really even know) yet and he did his best to uphold his. The two of you operated more like a well-oiled machine than a newlywed couple. The capitol balls and events felt more like a chore since most of the time he discussed politics with his colleagues and you were grouped off with the other wives to gossip. At night, you often tried to get him to open up to you as you had to him, but he wouldn't. You forgave your husband. The cycle went on and every night you crawled into what felt like a strangers bed.
Coriolanus, you quickly discovered, didn't apologize. He didn't apologize for manipulating your parents. He didn't apologize for his short answers to your common and normal questions. He didn't apologize for the lack of intimacy in your marriage or the lack of friendship between the two of you. He didn't apologize for keeping you waiting at dinner when he'd promise to be there on time. He didn't apologize for keeping himself at a distance. Your only option was to forgive him, but not tonight.
You couldn't remember how the argument started, but you did know how it ended. You freed yourself from his death grip on your wrist and told him to "go to hell", promptly wandering off to your room. You locked the door and climbed into the bed (which felt emptier than you thought it would), ignoring his incessant knocks and demands. Coriolanus fell asleep outside your door that night.
You didn't know much about your husband, but you did know that he loved power. He was a powerful man already in politics despite graduating the University only two years ago. He loved having power over conversations, which you observed at capitol events and when he met your parents formally. He loved having power over his life and therefore, loved having power over you. You were usually very forgiving, but not this time. So, you decided quietly before you slept, Coriolanus would have all chances at power revoked until you dragged an apology out of him.
For Coriolanus, the next days were torture. He was forced to sleep in the guest room of the penthouse you shared since you hid the bedroom key and moved all of his necessities to his new space. Nobody kicked him out of anywhere, let alone his own wife in their house. He tried to be extra sweet with you when you left the master bedroom to make breakfast, only to be met with curt responses if any. When that didn't work, he tried to slip notes under your door only to find them crumpled in the waste bin by his desk the next day. By the third day, Coriolanus was confused and angry. How could you be so immature? He tried to sit with you at dinner, but when you calmly stood up to eat in the silence of the bedroom, his face turned red with rage.
"You're acting like a child." He snapped. You stayed silent and kept walking.
"I am your husband! Don't walk away from me when I'm speaking to you." He shouted after you, scooting his chair out to follow you down the hallway. If kindness hadn't worked, maybe intimidation would have to do.
"I regret the day I agreed to marry you if this is how you'll treat me." He spoke pointedly.
You froze in your tracks, unable to pinpoint exactly why that statement affected you so much. You took a deep breath and continued moving until: "I wish your father would have mentioned you be a bitch behind closed doors, too."
Without a second thought, you spun around and threw your wine at him, tears pricking at your eyes. You watched as Coriolanus breathed heavily and examined his stark white dress shirt. You almost opened your mouth to speak, but bit your tongue and wiped your tears. You forced your half-eaten plate at his now maroon shirt and slammed the bedroom door without another word.
Hours went by as you curled up in bed, weeping at the words of the man was supposed to love you. This was not how you envisioned getting married. It was supposed to be your choice, not your father's. It was supposed to be a union, not a business deal. You weren't supposed to welcome home a cold man every night and sleep on opposite ends of the bed. Despite all the hurt Coriolanus put you through, you still wanted to be happy with him. He was attractive, but insensitive. He knew how to speak to people, but couldn't open up. Sometimes, he even looked at you like he could love you, but never showed you a crumb of affection beyond being polite. You could not forgive him.
A knock came at your door close to midnight. Against your better judgement, you opened up. On the other side was a disheveled Coriolanus, looking relieved that you answered before quickly regaining his composure.
"Good evening." He greeted. "You don't have to talk, I just..." He took a deep breath as you eyed him. "You should know that I regret our argument the other night."
You waited expectantly for the words "I'm sorry" to leave his lips, but you simply stared at each other.
"This arrangement has been strange for me." He began again as you scoffed. "I haven't been good to you, I see that now."
You pushed the door open a little further and stepped out from behind it, wearing your sleep clothes already as Coriolanus drank in your appearance. Suddenly, in a gesture you weren't expecting he dropped to his knees.
"Can you forgive me?" It came out as a whisper as you stared in disbelief. "Please."
The sound was satisfying to your ears as you looked down at him. He seemed exhausted and distraught, his white t-shirt snug around his shoulders as he looked up at you. You almost feel like drawing this out, making him formally apologize, but you're reminded of your parent's words: "Never leave a fight unresolved". For the first time in days, you spoke.
"Okay." You whispered.
Coriolanus' head shot up and his eyes met yours. In another gesture you weren't expecting, he stood up and cautiously wrapped his arms around you to pull you into a hug. Hugs weren't foreign between the two of you. Coriolanus would often sling his arms around you at public events and would hold you close if you were dancing at a dinner, but touches like this in private were extremely rare. You gingerly wrapped your arms around him in return as you inhaled deeply. His peace offering had been accepted.
"I want to start treating you like my wife." He turned his head into your neck and mumbled against it. "Affection like this should be normal." You shivered at his words and the feeling of his lips against your neck. You nodded and whispered a shy "yes" as he held you closer.
"You should never go to bed untouched. Especially looking like this." The words went straight to your core as he stood straight to look into your eyes. "Would you like that?" Your lips parted in surprise at his sudden change in demeanor.
"Hm?" He hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Let me show you." He leaned down and captured your lips in an experimental kiss. You couldn't bring yourself to push him away, the smell and feel of him becoming too much. He was everywhere. Coriolanus reconnected your lips feverishly and walked you backwards into your shared room.
"Coryo..." You whimpered as he nibbled your bottom lip.
"Be quiet." He ordered. "You didn't want to speak to me for days, you can be quiet while I fuck you."
You were ashamed at how wet you were becoming. It wasn't your first time having sex, but it was your first time having sex with Coriolanus. He laid you back on the bed and began to kiss and mark your neck.
"My wife," He breathed. "Don't disrespect me like that ever again."
"I didn't-" You were cut off by a quick slap against your thigh.
"Not a sound." He growled against your shoulder, biting down onto the skin as you tried to keep quiet.
In no time, your pajamas were off and so were his. Somewhere in between the messy, passionate kisses, Coriolanus slipped inside you with no warning. You gasped against his lips and whimpered quietly as he bottomed out.
"So fucking tight." He gasped into the skin of your neck.
Coriolanus began moving slowly inside of you, giving you time to adjust before picking up the pace. His icy blue eyes met yours as he kissed you deeply, feeling the way your walls sucked him in.
"Look at my wife. You're taking me so well, aren't you?" He asked mockingly.
You nodded quietly, fighting back the moans threatening to spill past your lips.
"Good girl."
The praise caused you to flutter around him as he kissed and nibbled your neck.
"You're all mine, do you understand?" Coriolanus slowed his thrusts and buried himself deeper inside of you.
"I-I understand." You responded breathily, making your husband smile wickedly.
"That's right baby. You're not going to ignore me anymore are you?"
You felt dizzy as his thrusts began to speed up again, unable to form words. He let your silence go becoming lost in pleasure himself. As Coriolanus continued fucking you passionately, he reached down between you to rub you clit.
"I'm close, Coryo." You moaned, holding his shoulders tightly.
Your words seemed to have the desired effect as his thrusts got sloppier as he buried his head into your shoulder. He nipped and kissed at the skin, making sure to praise you along the way. He told you how good you were, how tight you felt (just for him), and how pretty you sounded moaning his name like that. As you felt yourself cumming around him, you also felt yourself forgiving him.
Coriolanus pulled you close as you both basked in the afterglow. You decided, as you drew patterns on his chest, that this arrangement wasn't so bad if it meant nights like these. You decided, as he kissed your temple and played with your hair, that maybe a life with him was exactly what you needed. Just as you fell asleep in the arms of someone who finally felt like your husband, you decided you would always forgive him especially when it meant making up like this.
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fatuismooches · 6 months
Text
a lesson in forgiveness.
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The puppet’s plan to save you by deleting himself from the world did not work. You were dead and would remain dead for all of eternity. You were never to be given a second chance, yet he received one, now going by the name Wanderer.
Wanderer had begun to heal, very, very slowly from not only your death but his own past life with the help of the Dendro Archon, but there was not a day where Wanderer didn’t think of you. Sometimes for a little while, sometimes for a long time. Though Wanderer had always kept your gift close to him. The comb you had given him had endured throughout time, not without challenges though. You had given it to him as a good luck charm before he set off on that fateful day. Some of the teeth had been chipped or even broken off. Wanderer always treated it with the utmost care, but time is everything’s greatest enemy, even to immortals.
More recently, Wanderer had decided to create a small doll of you. It was necessary for him, it was a way to cope and come to terms with your death. He remembers centuries ago, you said you had always wanted to see the world. To leave the little village you called home and see Teyvat for yourself. It’s not the same, but perhaps this could be some sort of atonement for letting you die. You’ll be able to see the beautiful sights that he sees with him. Maybe that would make you happy, wherever you were. He would not tell anyone how much time he put into it, for it was an embarrassingly long time. Every stitch and every detail was planned carefully, even making multiple pairs of clothing for you. He didn’t often use them though, but perhaps it was a way to keep his mind off other things. 
Nowadays, Lesser Lord Kusanali had begun to assign him to some bothersome tasks, which he reluctantly carried out. Though, it was mostly a front. He didn’t mind as much as he grunted and scoffed about it. And, Wanderer knows without a doubt that you would adore Nahida. So, he really didn’t mind being the Archons’s shadow. Ah, and the Aranara too, you would absolutely fawn over them. If he was Kabukimono, he would too.
But right now he was taking a break at his usual local cafe. This had become a sort of routine for Wanderer. It was nothing out of the ordinary now. Plus, the coffee here was not bad. The puppet was enjoying his solitude, away from the noise of others when a voice broke his tranquility.
“Hello, is this seat taken?” Wanderer's eyebrow twitched at the disturbance. Couldn’t this person read the room? He thought it would be quite obvious that he preferred to be left alone. He cracked an eyebrow open to retort the person but the sight of them made every part of his body freeze up, and the words died in his throat. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. If he were holding his cup of coffee, he would have dropped it.
For you were standing in front of him again. 
There were not many times Wanderer has been left speechless, for he always has some kind of response to everything, but not this time. What could he say, when confronted with the love of his life after over four hundred years of their death?
“Hello?” You tilted your head, beckoning for a reply. A nervous but genuine smile eased its way onto your lips. “Would you mind if I sat here with you?” Wanderer forced himself to regain his composure.
“…Do what you want.” That came out harsher than the puppet wanted it to, but his stern way of speaking had long been the norm for him. 
“Okay, thanks,” you smiled once again, tension in your shoulders leaving as you pulled out the chair. That smile of yours. That smile was all too familiar. Every part of his body was debating the possibility of this being you. Oh, how he longed for it to be you, but he couldn’t be sure that this was you. It must be just an uncanny resemblance to the you from centuries ago. Because you, [Name], were dead, and you were never coming back.
You began to search through your bag, looking for something. He got a peak of the contents, and there lay some Lavender Melon wrapped up to savor later for a snack. He gritted his teeth at the similarities before deciding to study you more. Your clothes had traditional aspects of Inazuma but also incorporated some styles from Sumeru. Perhaps you were on a trip? His question wasn’t left unanswered for long.
“You know, this is my first day in Sumeru. It’s so much bigger and livelier than I thought,” you hummed happily. “So I thought, the first thing I should do was try some of the local food! I heard it’s quite delicious,” you grinned again finding the Mora pouch in your bag. Then a look of realization appeared on your face. “Oh! How silly of me, rambling to a complete stranger. I’m [Name], by the way.” 
[Name].
[Name].
[Name].
[Name]. The name that had haunted and lingered with him for so long, had come back to the present day. Wanderer’s breath hitched as he could not help but feel a wave of emotions at the reality of the situation. You were back. You were alive again, happy and smiling, looking as if nothing had changed at all. Granted, there were still a few small differences from your past self, but it was wholly and authentically you. [Name]. There was no denying it, and he found himself boring his eyes into your figure. You were still so pretty, so attractive, your beauty not changing throughout time. The way you furrowed your eyebrows as you read through the menu, licking your lips in anticipation of digging into some yummy cuisine.
Wanderer wonders if you still like to cook, the same way the old you loved to. He wonders if you’ll recognize the techniques the old you taught him, how to cut and peel vegetables. Wanderer does it with ease now, no longer cutting his fingers clumsily as Kabukimono did. He wonders if you’d like his own cooking. Much of his knowledge of cooking came from you. He wants to see your face light up in excitement as you relish and praise him for how good he’s gotten without you. If he cooked you the same foods you ate together from those days, how would you react? If he showed you the comb, would you remember? If you remembered, would you forgive him for how he let you die all those years ago? Wanderer’s mind was overloaded with questions. 
He had gone through unspeakable things, but he was extremely strong now, at least stronger than Kabukimono. Wanderer thinks you’ll never be hurt ever again, not by any Treasure Hoarders, Fatui, Kairagi, Nobushi, Hilichurls, or whatever other monsters Teyvat has to offer. No, so long as he watched over you from afar, you would never be injured. But, he questions himself, does he truly deserve this opportunity? No, the better question was, do you deserve to have to deal with him, with him being the person he is now? You looked perfectly fine without him, oblivious to the way he had been suffering for so long after your death. Oblivious to the sins that coated his hands. At the very least, you didn’t meet him while he was Scaramouche. He probably would not have been a good lover to you back then. Your voice interrupted his thoughts. 
“This is my first time trying Sumeru’s coffee. Is it good?” His chest panged once again at how similar your words were spoken now as compared to a few hundred years ago. Wanderer remembers the exact moment, in the bath when you spoke about trying Sumeru’s coffee with him, as if it was yesterday…
“It’s alright,” Wanderer kept his tone neutral despite his thoughts.
“Oh really? Is it bitter or sweet?”
“Neither, it is a good balance. But… I always ask for mine to be extra bitter,” Wanderer admitted to you. Normally, he would never have even entertained a conversation with a stranger, but in a way, you were not a stranger to him.
“Extra bitter, huh? And that doesn’t bother you? Interesting,” you smiled, gaining interest in the conversation as you leaned in closer to him. “I don’t think I could ever handle that!” Wanderer knew that already. In Tatarasuna, you could never stomach the taste of such bitterness. Another look of realization crossed your face as you giggled to yourself.
“It just hit me, I introduced myself but I never asked you. What’s your name?” You smiled once again beautifully, Sumeru’s sun illuminating your features. Wanderer etched your expression forever into his mind before he spoke.
“Just call me… Hat Guy,” Wanderer did not know why he chose to say that name out of all, and he had to stop himself from cringing at himself.
“H-Hat Guy…?” You repeated. You were dead silent for a few seconds before you erupted in laughter, which sounded oh-so-familiar to him, and made his ‘heart’ sing. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle your giggles. “Ah- ahahaha! I didn’t take you for a guy who likes to joke!”
Wanderer didn’t know how things would go from here, but as the wind carried your laugh away, he felt truly at peace after a very, very long time.
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lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.
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Hihi! I went on anon cause my main blog is strictly sfw, but I promise I'm an adult(29). Anyways, I had this idea of Ascended Astarion teasing Tav/Reader in front of a mirror. He can't see himself, but loves the way Tav/Reader shudders under his touch and them getting more and more embarrassed because all they can see is themselves getting riled up by seemingly nothing, but when they look down, ofc they see his hands working magic across their body.
Lol ty for the clarification and ask! I've been needing some nsfw practice!
Ascended Astarion nsfw under the cut, 18 + warnings. Like this is not implied smut. It is smut, graphic. Possessive, obsessive, manipulative, bad vampire man who loves you. As much as he's capable of. Morally gray human Tav from the start to here. It's only downhill from here baby, m/f angle. But if that doesnt fufill the dream let me know and I can make a gender neutral/ gender nonspecfic no prob! And probably less intense too because this is angsty~~~
Like I went ham, this is a whole ass fic now💀
You frowned at yourself in the bedroom mirror, adjusting your hair for the umpteenth time. It still didn't look right, despite what felt like hours of practice that you'd put into the intricate style.
You sighed as let one of your braids fall down, dissatisfied with what you saw. You didn't exactly look the part of an all-powerful vampire's consort, or at least not with the company you've recently been keeping. But it turned out a significant part of taking over Baldur's Gate was trenched in politics, meetings, balls, social events created for the sole purpose of mind games.
It was exhausting, or at least it was for you. But Astarion seemed to take to it like a duck to water. This life suited him, one of power games and subterfuge, and more often than not, murder. Not that you minded. You were just happy that he was having fun. That he was finally free after all of those years of torment. Even if he was using that freedom for… less than savory ends.
But despite his goals, you had sworn to him that you would never stray. And you intended on making good on that promise.
You just wished that he didn't insist on you being there for all of his "business". You hadn't realized how literal he had been about the whole sitting in his lap plan. It had taken a half-hour conversation to even convince him that no, you would not be doing so in the nude. He still hadn't given up on convincing you off that plan, but you highly doubted that it would help with your current level of heightened insecurity.
Maybe you were worrying for no reason. It wasn't Astarion who made you feel out of place. Well… it was, but not because of anything he did. Just… who he had become. He was so different now, so much colder to everything and everyone but you. More calculating, less forgiving, and just perfect for working with the most dangerous individuals in the mortal plane.
You seemed to be the only living thing he could relax around anymore, the only person who could soften him. It was strange really. You used to remember his softer side, before the ritual. The way his heart would hurt for children and animals alike, despite his failed attempts to hide it. His soft spot for Karlach, those who were brave and brazen, always willing to do the right thing despite the risks. The kind smile he used to have, reserved for beautiful things like the sunrise, the sunset.
Gone, all of it. It was a fact that you didn't like to think about. What you both gave up, things could have been; there was no point to it anyway. It was over. You gave Astarion the choice, this is what came of that. So here you were, obsessing over your appearance in preparation for a meeting with a high-ranking devil.
How things had changed.
You had no idea if you would ever find a way to match up with the company he kept around these days. Maybe it was your own fault for surrounding yourself with otherworldly creatures, but it was hard not to feel inadequate.
It didn't help that whenever you even slightly alluded to that insecurity, Astarion was more than ready to remind you of your… "options".
"You can join us whenever you'd like my treasure," Astarion would say with a creeping grin, "Just one bite, and we can be sure you'll be mine forever. Would that be so bad?"
It was a tempting offer, one that you kept insisting on refusing. You loved Astarion more than anything. But… you wanted that love to stay your choice. An obligation you maintained of your own free will. It's not that you didn't trust him… but to be a spawn had too many implications for you to handle.
"What has you pouting sweet thing?"
You startled when hands suddenly settled on your hip, gripping through the thin fabric of your nightdress. You looked back, relaxing the slightest bit to see Astarion smiling down at you, amused at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on you through the mirror.
"You said you weren't going to do that anymore," You whined as you leaned back into him, your eyes turning back to the mirror. You could see the fabric of your slip indented under his hands, ghost-like without his actual image reflecting back.
"I lied," Astarion said simply, leaning down to breathe you in from the crook of your neck, "Now what are you thinking about pet? I can tell something's on your mind."
You bit your lip, debating for a moment if you should tell him or not. But it's not like he would let it drop, and he was way too good at being able to tell when you were lying. Might as well come clean.
You sighed, "I don't…I don't know if I'm cut out for this."
You expected him to huff at you, maybe even laugh. But instead, the grip he had on you tightened, hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel his fangs scraping against your delicate skin, scratching hard enough to cause pinpricks of blood to bead out.
"And why would you ever think a thing like that?" Astarion asked, his voice harsh and low, "Where else would you be if not by my side hm? Please, enlighten me."
You gulped, your heart rate starting to pick up. You hadn't meant it like that, "That's not what I meant-"
"Then what else could it have meant?" Astarion shot back, his hands digging into you, surely ready to leave finger-shaped bruises. Suddenly he was using that same grip to drag you backward to the bed, effortlessly settling you between his spread legs.
All while managing to still be right in sight of the mirror. You could feel your cheeks redden as his hands started to wander, unceremoniously tugging down the straps of your nightdress to reveal your chest. That was another thing about life after the ritual that had been a surprise, just how different Astarion's sex drive was. It's not like he was a prude before, far from it, but now he was insatiable. Always ready and willing to touch you whenever the urge struck him. Often enough for you to eventually come to the thrilling, if not slightly disturbed realization, that… he was training you. Training your body to always want his touch.
And tonight was no different. You could already feel yourself getting wet, and he had barely done anything yet. But then suddenly he was pinching your nipple harshly, hissing in your ear, "I expect an answer when I ask you a question darling."
You bit back a moan, trying to remember what you were even arguing about as he started to play with your breasts, "I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… I don't want to embarrass you."
It was humiliating to admit but it was true. Not many people of Astarion's caliber insisted on a singular lover. There were so many people after him now, people with more power, more beauty, and grace. You didn't match up. You couldn't.
"Nonsense," Astarion dismissed, his hands wandering down to tear off more of your clothing, "Look at you. You were made for this life. Made for me. You're gorgeous."
The compliments mixed with the harsh feeling of his hands ripping your nightdress in two was quite the experience. You could feel his own hardness pressing into your backside, twitching as he threw your ruined clothing to the side.
Then he was gripping your chin, forcing your head back up to stare into the mirror in front of you, "I said look."
You obeyed, eyes widening at what you saw. It was so strange to see yourself like this, fully exposed with your legs spread apart, flushed and panting. It nearly gave the illusion that your very image was what was causing the wetness between your legs, instead of the invisible man toying with you.
You swallowed, your throat dry as Astarion's hands wandered lower, a feather-light touch tracing up and down your slit, "You are everything. The sole reason that I'm the man I am today. There is nowhere else you should be than right here."
"But-" You gasped, your words interrupted by a sharp slap to your inner thigh. You could see your skin start to redden in the mirror, a perfect imprint left in it's wake.
"Darling, are you questioning my judgment? What on earth made you think that was a good idea?"
You frantically shook your head, moaning when his fingers delved deeper, playing with your slick folds, "I-I'm not. I didn't- I'm sorry."
You whined as he roughly pinched your clit, his other hand moving upward to do the same to your heaving chest.
He was starting to grind his hardness against you, a tease of more to come as he murmured in your ear, "There's my good girl. Was that so hard?"
You shook your head, gasping as he finally dipped his long fingers into your cunt. You were already so sensitive, humiliatingly close in a matter of minutes.
"So gorgeous," Astarion sighed, staring straight ahead to the sole image of you, whimpering as he finger-fucked your pussy, "So needy. Can you see how wet you are pet?"
You could, you were leaking around his fingers, that needy, intense feeling getting more and more intense by the moment. It was so embarrassing seeing yourself like this, enough so that you snapped your eyes shut.
A bad idea. Astarion tutted at you, landing another sudden and hard slap to your thigh, "None of that. I told you to look. Or else."
You snapped your eyes back open, watching yourself whimper and gasp as you were played with, the harsh movement of his hand jostling your breasts. You weren't going to last much longer, not with the image of you being taken apart, the feeling of him inside you, the mean edge to your love's words.
"You're such a silly little thing, aren't you?" Astarion growled, fucking you harder and faster. You were so close, but you weren't stupid enough to come without permission. Not after what he did the last time, "Doubting me. Do you really think I don't know what's best for you? What's best for us?"
"No," You whimpered, your hips arching backward to rub harder into his erection, "You're right, I-I'm yours. C-Can I come now? Please?"
"Beg me and maybe I'll think about it," Astarion meanly laughed, relishing in the gush of slick his harshness coaxed from between your legs, "Beg and apologize. Apologize for doubting us. For doubting me."
You could barely get the words out through your own gasps, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean it!"
"Good girl," Astarion huskily laughed, using a clever thumb to rub over your swollen clit, "Now tell me you love me."
"I love you," You said easily, meaning every word, "I love you more than anything.
"Tell me you'll never leave me. Ever."
There was something else behind that promise. An obvious implication that your fucked-out brain was too distracted to see.
"Never," You promised, reaching back for you him. You curled your fingers into his hair. pulling his head down to press his mouth against your throat. An open invitation, "I'll always be with you."
Astarion groaned against your skin, his fangs so close to piercing, "Precious pet, how could I ever want anything else? Come darling, you've earned it."
Then he was biting you, the brief flash of pain the perfect trigger for you to fall over the edge. You came with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, slumping back into Astarion as he drank from your throat.
You looked as much of a mess as you felt, the stickiness between your thighs glistening in the light. You watched yourself, whimpering as Astarion slipped his fingers out. Just to tap them against your lips, forcing them into your mouth to suck on.
You moaned around them, light-headed as Astarion popped off of your throat. You sighed as he licked at the wound, enjoying the brief moment of rest. You weren't naive enough to think that you were done yet. Not when Astarion was still hard, his cock pulsing against you.
"See?" Astarion huskily laughed, licking the blood off of his lips while he played with your tongue, "You're perfect. Perfect and mine."
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writingsbymo-mo · 4 months
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Forgive me, Father
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Priest!Taiju Shiba x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit (minors dni)
Contains: Priest kink, creampie, voyeurism, sex in a church, degradation, implied pregnancy, rough sex, pet names
Summary: you've been having a difficult time paying attention during mass ever since you caught Father Taiju fucking someone in the sacistry. Now you can't get the thought of him doing the same to you until one fateful day.....
Hope you enjoy! And Merry Christmas you filthy animals!!! hehehe
🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄
It was a dark and cool evening. You had just gotten off work, headed straight to the confessional at your church. You had so, so many sinful thoughts of Father Taiju, one of the priests spreading the word of god at your church. A mere glimpse from his serious gaze while you're sitting in the pews during mass has you squirming in your seat.
Father Taiju took his work very seriously as an honest man of God or...so you thought.
One day, you caught him fucking a fellow church goer in the sacistry. You hid outside the cracked door, covering your mouth the whole time, fingering yourself as you bit your bottom lip, holding in moan after moan. Every wet slap, and deep growl emanating from him sent you spiraling until you came with him.
Fuck
You wanted to be the woman in there.
To get a taste of Father Taiju's dick.
With that tall, muscular structure that screamed he was well endowed, how could you not want to see what he's packing. Just the way he gleamed at you with those sharp eyes, judging your every move. He'd often clutch his rosary as you passed, closing his eyes and rubbing the beads. Was he praying for a sinner such as yourself? Or...did he have something else he was hiding?
The doors to the church creaked as you opened them and closed them behind you. Your choes clacked against the polished, pristine floors that led you to the nave where Father Taiju would reside in the confessional during this time. You managed to snag an appointment with him for today all thanks to your shitty work schedule.
One thing you remember, he never took his eyes off you during the scheduling process, almost like he was looking forward to it more than you were. The way he moved was more rigid than normal too as if he were trying to hide something whenever he leaned across the table to hand you the papers that officiated your appointment. Why? You could only devise assumptions.
You approach the confessional, admiring the intricate details in the carved wood as you entered the private space, sitting in the chair provided.
The space was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop from across the room. You relaxed your shoulders and let out a deep sigh, shifting in your seat as you whispered. "Ok." It was finally happening. You could finally speak to him in privacy. He was literally on the other side of the screened window, barely making out his silhouette.
With a deep breath you were holding in released, you began with the sign of the cross. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I um, haven't been to one of these in some time but," you clutched the hem of your shirt and squeezed your eyes shut, "there's someone I've been having thoughts about..." Your voice trailed off. All the hairs on your neck stood on end at the heavy air settling around you. This whole confession was so much simpler in your head, why clam up now? You want him. Need him. So why are you hesitating?
"Mmm, what kind of thoughts?"
Father Taiju's baritone voice broke your thoughts. You gasped when his sweet tone sang in your ears. He's waiting. Tell him!
"I've been having lustful, very lustful thoughts, about someone who goes here," you paused and took a deep breath, "every time I see him, I can't help but imagine stripping him down until he's bare naked...and...I might've caught him one day fucking someone...and have been imagining him doing those things to me and more..."
You bit your lip and started to squirm in your seat. What would he think of you now? Just another sinner asking for forgiveness? Seeing you as nothing more than a harlot?
"Gah, tell me more. How were you fucking this man?"
Warmth pooled into your face as you tried not to stutter. "Well...almost anything really. I want to feel his massive dick jamming into me, making me cum and scream his name over and over until I pass out." You began to hear low, deep pants from the other side but didn't pay it any mind. "I want to taste him, swallow him and his cum. And honestly...I really want him to just use me as he sees fit. He's just so fine...his muscles and the way he moans—"
"FUCK!"
Like that...oh fuck...
If you weren't feeling wet and warm earlier, you certainly were now. Your pussy twitched at every deep groan that he made until one moment, he stopped as you heard a door open. He yanked the door to your side, almost tearing it from the hinges.
You had never seen him look like this before. Taiju ran his free hand through his hair. His wild, predatory gaze sent warmth pooling into your gut. You couldn't stop your eyes from trailing down to the obvious tent behind his alb. Oh, he's definitely big, maybe bigger than you thought.
Father Taiju practically snarled, stomping into your small space in the booth, grabbing you by the arm as he kept his feral gaze upon you. He was the wolf, and you, the rabbit caught in his claws. "Come, we'll continue this elsewhere," his voice was stern with a hint of desire leaking through. He picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing to him, carrying you off to his private quarters.
The clacking of his shoes hitting the polished floor felt like eternity, basking in the silence, waiting for his next move. He'd mumble under his breath, closing his eyes as his lips moved. Was he praying? Thinking of you? Asking for his own forgiveness to what awaits you two? You silently gasped when he shifted you in his arms, reveling in the flex of his bulging biceps. You turned your head to gain a better look at him and whispered, "Father Taiju?"
He paused his steps in front of the altar. His sharp gaze now peering into your very soul. "Shhh, don't say another word unless you'd rather I place you right here to be fucked in front of any passerby?" You shuddered a gasp at his low, deep growl as he began to chuckle darkly, "you'd like that, wouldn't you, harlot?"
"F-Father?!" You stuttered in surprise and want.
Fuck...yes, you would like that.
You swear, this man will be the death of you.
"Not today," he smiled, showing his teeth as he stroked your cheek fondly. He kicked the door to the sacistry wide open, causing you to flinch. It slams shut behind you when you're suddenly thrown onto a soft bed, almost knocking the wind out of you. Taiju throws off his clothes, throwing them onto the other side of the room without care. All that was left was the rosary around his neck, accenting the tattoos near it.
He was panting, grumbling deep in his chest. His dick stood angrily between his muscular thighs, dripping with need. The bed bounced and creaked when he pounced atop you. That yellow gaze hungered for you, screaming you're trapped, you're his now and forever more. "I've been waiting for this," he growled, ripping off your clothes and throwing them in a heap, "been waiting for you, sinner, my favorite sinner."
Taiju grabs your face as you part your lips and slams his dick into your mouth, ramming it down your throat over and over as you try not to gag too much. Your eyes roll back, beginning to lose your breath. He noticed and slid his dick out of your throat, stilling it until you caught your breath enough for his liking, picking up the pace once more as his deep growls grew louder and much closer together. Spit rained down your chin onto the sheets below, growing more plentiful by the second.
"Fucking take it like the sinner you are!!"
A few harsh thrusts later and his hot, sticky cum sprayed down your throat in quick spurts.
Your eyes widened at the fullness, attempting to swallow every drop to no avail. Saliva and cum dripped down your chin, connecting to his dick as he pulled out. You took the deepest breath you ever could, stifling a cough. The string snapped. Taiju shifted his body lower, grabbing your hips with his large hands and hoisting you up to meet his. He smirks down at your small form beneath him, grabbing his heavy dick and slapping it against your wet pussy. "Beg for it you fucking succubus," he sneered, watching you squirm and mewl with every slap on your sensitive bud.
"Please..." You rasped. Slap "FUCK!" He slapped your thigh with an open palm.
"Tch, please what?" He growled, slapping your thigh again.
"Please, Father Taiju—ooh fuuuck!!!"
He rammed his thick dick into your cunt with a wince beginning his unrelenting assault on your cervix, "so fucking tight!"
Your eyes glazed over, sputtering out moan after moan while your insides were battered and bruised in the right way. He stretched you out like no one had before, almost painful, but you welcomed him. Your walls squeezed around him with every harsh, powerful thrust. Drool pooled down your chin and onto your chest as you became drunk off his fat dick.
Taiju grabbed your legs, throwing them over his shoulder, putting you into a mating press. He gripped your hips firmly to steady you as he went harder than you ever thought he could manage. You screamed, digging your nails into his back, raking lines down the tattoo on his back. Your vision went white, letting your tongue fall out of your mouth as shockwaves shot through you with your first orgasm of the night. You screamed, body convulsing as your cunt winked around his dick still pounding away.
Father Taiju threw his head back and laughed. "You're a special one. I'll make you transcend this world over thrust and over thrust and over again!"
"F-Father!"
His eyes gleamed with adoration and lust, reaching to brush your face with the back of his hand. "You're mine, my succubus. I can't concentrate when I'm near you." His thrusts grew sloppier by the second as he growled. "Your figure drives me insane. Fuck! Those other whores can't compare to your beauty. You are a true work of God!"
You weren't sure how much more you could take. Your body already felt the fire coursing through your veins again, ready to let the dam burst. "F-Father Taiju, I-I'm gonna cum!"
"Not yet." He grabbed changed his angle slightly, making you jolt.
"But—"
"Tell me, sinner, who does this pussy belong to?" He grunted.
"Y-you Father Taiju! It belongs to you!!!"
He grips you harder, enough to leave bruises. "That's it, be a good sinner and cum for Father Taiju."
On cue, the band snapped. Juices gushed out of your pussy onto the bed below as you screamed his name. Your walls winked around him, begging for his cum that suddenly flowed into you, filling you up with warmth with a deep growl.
You stay like that for a good minute, catching your breath as you just let your body go limp. Taiju let his softening dick slip out of your pussy. Mixed fluids of cum flowed onto the sheets below, making him smile. "I have cleansed you of your sins for today," he reached around his neck, slipping the rosary over his head then placing it around your neck. "Now, if you need me again, just wear this and I'll fucking cleanse you again."
You grasp the rosary draped around your neck with a smile etched on your face. "Thank you Father!"
"No, thank you, my favorite sinner."
From then on, whenever he sees you at mass with his sacred beads around your neck, he has that knowing glint in his eyes. Some have been giving you glances and talking behind you, noticing purple bruises and scratches along your neck and back. You keep your head held high, though you can't help those days when they get to you.
"I see you're wearing my rosary today, my favorite sinner," he wipes whatever tears fall from your eyes to reassure you. "Spare those harlots over there no mind. You are mine! Care to join me in my sacistry to purify you?"
"Always, Father Taiju," you smiled as you placed a hand over your stomach.
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luveline · 8 months
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hurt/comfort for hotch
maybe he’s been having a hard couple of days at work and says something rude to reader, that he doesn’t mean, he’s just frustrated. then they talk it outttt<3
ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader, 1k
"Did you get wholemeal bread for Jack's lunch?" Aaron asks.
You wince where you're sitting at the table, closing the book you're reading over your fingers. "No. I knew I forgot something, I just couldn't remember what," you lament. You'll have to get some before the grocery store closes at nine. 
You check your watch, a little silver thing that cost too much of Aaron's money, and you're so focused on telling time you almost miss his biting remark. 
"It's fine," he says bitterly. "I'll get it in the morning. I shouldn't have asked you." 
Your first instinct is to react in a similar fashion. "Ah, but you ask so little of me." 
He flinches at your tone. You hate to see it, and regret what you've said immediately, but it's not as if he were being particularly kind himself. A weird, stringy silence pulls between you, a tightrope waiting to buckle. The first to walk will be the first to fall; with the mood he's in, he'll bite. Tonight, you're miffed enough to bite back. 
Pissed, you stand up, grabbing your coat where it's draped across the table. 
Aaron holds out a hand. "Wait a second." 
"I don't want a fight," you say honestly. "It doesn't matter. I'll go get bread and we can forget about it." 
"I don't want to forget about it. I'm not being fair." 
You let your arms hang, coat in a ball against your thighs. "Aaron…" 
"It wasn't fair. Sorry." 
It obviously wasn't fair. Everyone forgets things no matter how hard they try, but you recognise that Aaron just got back from a week away. He's stressed, exhausted, and things need to feel normal for him. He asked you for something and you let him down. 
"It's a loaf of bread, Aaron," you murmur, defeated. "I didn't mean to forget." 
"I know." He rubs his brows, melting the last of your defences as he hangs his head. 
To love someone, you have to give in. There are times where you feel hurt and you have to forgive him before you're strictly ready to do so, because he's his own worst enemy in times like this. Though it's harder now, because you're not used to his derision. Disapproval, silent annoyance, sure. 
You put your coat down. 
"Since when are you sarcastic?" you ask gently, stepping into his space. You tilt your head a touch to the side, braceleting the crook of his elbow in a loving hand.
His eyes crease at the corners, short wrinkles stark, shadows beneath them. "I haven't been sleeping well, away from you both," he says. 
You trace the surface of his rough cheek with your eyes before bringing a tentative hand to it, thumb catching against stubble as you smooth it toward his ear. He doesn't smell like anything he usually carries, no aftershave or cologne nor laundry detergent, and the shirt he wears isn't sharply collared. It's safe to say he hadn't planned to be away that long, and even though he's home, he's not home yet in his head. You don't know how else to prove it, stroking his face, cheek in your palm, your other hand climbing his arm to rest over the hill of his pec. His heart capers under your touch. 
"I didn't mean it," he says. 
"I know," you say. Aaron often makes you feel small in the best way, his height, his naturally protective instincts, he stands by your side and you trust him to take care of you. You don't have to look out for yourself when he's in arm's reach. You aren't tall, aren't half as imposing, but you can try to offer him the same comfort. 
"You just need to relax. I get that it's not as easy to leave your work at the door as you want, but you… it's hard for me too. I need your help," you say. 
He closes his eyes. 
"Sorry," you say softly. "For forgetting. And for being sore about it. You don't put too much on me." 
"No, I do. You're right, I ask for a lot." 
"I have a lot to give, Hotchner," you murmur. 
He nods and you really do forgive him, then. You know he's only tired. You don't have to take it personally. 
"Would you hug me?" you ask.
Take care of him by letting him take care of you; he's visibly and heartbreakingly relieved to be asked, wrapping his arms around you. You love the way he hugs no matter how he's feeling, like you're something that needs a gentle hand. 
"Don't hug me too long, Paula's closes in twenty minutes." 
His fingers spread over the small of your back. "It doesn't even matter. Jack asked me for wholemeal bread and turkey and I wanted to get something right for once." 
"With mustard?" you ask. 
"He's a weird kid sometimes," Aaron says. He gets a bit of pep back, giving you a sway from one side to the other. "I'll get the bread in the morning, and I won't act like an ungrateful idiot when I do." 
"I don't think ungrateful is the right word." 
"But idiot's fine?" Aaron asks, his laugh warming your cheek. He kisses it twice in succession, hands roving up, and up, before lifting his head to tuck you neatly beneath his chin. "It's right." 
"What do you want me to say?" you ask coyly. 
"Alright," he says with a laugh, his chuckle vibrating in your arms where you've curled them behind his neck. 
"You're not an idiot–" 
"No, because now I know you don't mean it," he says. Finally, some light in his tone, that playful drawl that demarcates Hotchner-style flirtation. 
"You're not!" you say, leaning back enough to kiss the dip under his jaw. "You're just moody," you mumble into his skin. 
"And you're too good to me." 
"No, I'm not," you say. "You're better than you think." 
He pats your back gently. "You're biassed, honey."
You're super biassed. "Nope. Totally impartial." 
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calicough · 5 months
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hi hi hi :) could u maybe write a thing abt like reader and hazel being childhood friends who slowly start to fall for each other but don’t say anything for a long time and then maybe they get into an argument of some kind and confess their feelings??
idk if you’ve done something like that but it just crossed my mind!
sour grapes – hazel callahan
— your scent is still unripe and green.
childhood friends to lovers. fluff. yearning. kind of long!
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hazel could still remember the first time she became your friend. it was back in kindergarten. you had just moved into town and you were the new kid. but to her, you were known as the kid with the mcdonald's strawberry shortcake keychain where her hat slides to the side to reveal a lip balm.
little hazel was collecting all four characters— she had around 3 orange blossoms, 2 ginger snaps, and at least 5 angel cakes —but she couldn't get her hands on the strawberry shortcake one because it's always out. so when she saw your strawberry shortcake dangling from your backpack, she came up with a plan that she spent two days devising; she'll steal your keychain in exchange for one of her angel cakes.
of course her plan didn't work. it was snack time when she found herself in front of your backpack, smiling at the sight of strawberry shortcake. she was about to take the keychain off after applying the balm on her lips rather messily when she heard a loud gasp behind her. hazel quickly turned around to see you already stomping towards your teacher. "miss sandy!"
panicking, hazel ran after you and pulled on your hair to try to stop you. it did stop you, but it also made you start crying. a concerned miss sandy marched towards where you were standing. "hey guys, what's happening here?" she crouched down to your eye level while rubbing your back to calm you down, her pretty pink floral dress creasing. "what's wrong sweetie?"
"hazel was trying to steal my strawberry shortcake and she pulled my hair," you pointed at her as tears came out of your eyes and snot came out of your nose. you were sobbing so hard that miss sandy didn't understand a single word you said, but deduced that it had something to do with your keychain. you had gotten it on your birthday. you liked strawberry shortcake but you weren't much of a big fan, you only liked her strawberry scent on her head. but nonetheless, it was a birthday present and you cherished it with all your heart.
when you saw hazel's bag with an angel cake keychain, you were elighted because you both have a lip balm keychain from mcdonald's. you wanted to become her friend but you were too shy to approach her that's why you planned on sharing your grapes with her that day. which is why your heart sank when you saw her hands about to take strawberry shortcake off your bag that has your grapes in it.
"i didn't mean to!" hazel started crying as well, her mouth and cheeks glistening under the light because of the lip balm. she was embarrassed that you caught her in the act and was nervous that you would hate her for eternity after this incident. after your mothers were called to school by miss sandy to discuss what happened and after hazel got scolded by her mother, the both of you found yourself sitting across each other in mcdonald's with your moms. mrs. callahan lightly nudged hazel to apologize, which hazel hesitantly did. "i'm sorry," she looked down at her lap, kicking her little feet as you stare at her.
"honey, what will you say?" your mom cooed, nodding towards hazel's direction. you didn't want to forgive her for what she did. that keychain was still yours and you're stingy when it comes to things that belongs to you. but then you felt bad because you wanted to be her friend and you'd gladly share your lip balm with her if only she had asked you in the first place.
she noticed that you took a pink item out of your mother's bag. it was the strawberry shortcake lip balm keychain. "let's share," you grinned as you hand her the keychain. hazel looked at you with wide eyes, her blue eyes shining in excitement. the two of you played in the playplace after that.
from then on, you and hazel were inseparable. every trip, every dinner, your family and hazel's family were together. the both of you would also have sleepovers at each other's place. most of the time, you preferred to stay over at hazel's. you would spend hours on playing tekken or grand theft auto or bratz on her playstation before getting scolded by mrs. callahan for staying up late.
as years went on, your friendship grew closer and closer until it doesn't feel like friendship anymore. hazel was the first one to have this epiphany back in ninth grade. she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment but one day, everything about you seemed loud; in a good way. you were radiating like sunbeams in the sky, blinding hazel by your beauty and your presence. since then, she keeps forgetting that you've been friends for years. who could blame her. you always took her breath away every time you'd smile.
confused at this newfound feeling, hazel decided to keep this feeling all to herself. after all, it would probably go away soon enough.
she thought it would go away. she really hoped it would. but it never did. there have been multiple instances where she was so close to confessing, but the fear of getting hurt by your rejection and the fear of your friendship ending would always stop her from doing so.
you realized that you were falling for hazel during the year the fight club was created. you were inseparable up until this point in your lives as she became more busy and involved with the club as one of its founding members. when she invited you to join, you rejected her invitation, joking that you don't want to ruin your beautiful face. she somehow took this joke very seriously and distanced you from the club, eventually distancing herself in the process. this, of course, hurted you but it didn't come as a surprise. hazel seemed to be walking on eggshells around you. at first, you thought nothing of it. you became concerned when it continued after that. you found it weird as she had never acted that way before but you brushed it off, assuming it was nothing.
it was lonely without her and it would be a lie to say that you weren't jealous of her club. she's your best friend since kindergarten, why is she spending more time with them than you? they don't know her like you do. from your point of view, it seemed like she was too engrossed in the club that she forgot that you existed. but from her point of view, she was suffering from not hanging out with you despite preoccupying herself with the club to get you out of her mind, that same feeling still lingering in her chest.
you took care of hazel when she got beaten up by tucker. mrs. callahan— who's now different in your eyes after learning that she was sleeping with jeff —was glad that her "daughters" were hanging out again, recalling that time you poured alcohol on the cut on hazel's knee. unlike before, you were more gentle at cleaning the multiple cuts on her swollen face.
the sight ultimately broke you. you could still hear her head making contact with the gymasium floor, making you wince every time you remembered it. you wanted to run towards her, shield her from the big white guy— seriously, why the fuck is he not expelled yet? this school is a joke, you thought. but he was tucker and he was caged for a reason, and you don't know a thing or two about self defense. all you could do was watch in fear.
on the second night of your so-called "shift", you sat at the corner of her bed after putting away the ice pack and the antiseptics to see if she's in any discomfort while sleeping. she looked peaceful in her slumber despite her swollen eyelids painted in disgusting red, black and blue hues. you just wished that the healing process would speed up so that you could see her bright eyes again. your eyes travelled down to her parted lips, finding yourself staring at it for a long amount of time. you were aware of hazel's unbroken routine of always applying lip balm which obviously started back when you were little but this was the first time that you noticed how soft they looked. you wondered what her lips would feel like on your—
you were snapped out of your daydream when hazel stirred in her sleep, making you abruptly but gently standing up from her bed to avoid interrupting her rest. what was that about? you don't just randomly daydream about kissing your friend, especially when they're in a horrible state. cringing internally, you laid down on the sleeping bag on the floor, shutting your eyes so you could quickly fall asleep and forget about your thoughts. this is normal right? right?
you were in denial the whole time you were at hers, attempting to be your usual self around her. but because of your recent thoughts, you found yourself unintentionally hesitant and self conscious with your actions. you were pretty sure that her fight club friends— minus pj and josie —found you weird for checking on her band-aids every minute and for acting like a mom the whole time they were over. but they were nice and you despised yourself for not liking them in the first place.
hazel was thankful that you stayed by her side and took care of her no matter how distant she became. she wasn't proud of what she did and apologized to you after the fight club left her house, leaving the both of you alone in the living room. "it's not a big deal," you wearily smiled. she hoped that you weren't tired of her.
you and hazel hung out like you used to. playing games until early in the morning, talking shit about the people you hated in school, cooking in the middle of the night. she even invited you to watch the football game against huntington with her. it's been awhile since the both of you went out together. this made you happy. maybe the previous thoughts that you had were only because you missed your dear friend. it was nothing.
you thought it was nothing. but when you saw pj and hazel making out in front of you, you felt like you were going to puke. you hurriedly left the bleachers and ran all the way home. your heart was clenching in your chest and you couldn't help the tears from streaming down your face. why did it hurt so much? why did you have to see it? you wished that you never met her in the first place. that you didn't become friends. if you did, maybe this wouldn't have happened. you stopped running as your legs made contact with the ground, heaving as you did so.
during the following weeks, you were now avoiding hazel. you shut down all of her attempts trying to talk to you, wanting to ask you about your whereabouts that night after they knocked out all of the football players. hazel was beyond frustrated that you were ignoring her calls and messages. she tried ambushing you in the classes that you both shared and didn't share together, but you had somehow left the classroom without her noticing.
after the fourth week, hazel finally got you cornered at your house. screw your mom for being so fond of her. your house lacks female solidarity.
"why have you been ignoring me?" hazel spoke after glaring at you intensely that you're pretty sure if she was a deadly laser right now, your skeleton will be left behind. you looked away from her eyes and stared at your pillows. you were both standing in the middle of the room, your arms crossed over your chests.
you shook her head and muttered, "you wouldn't understand." you don't want to let her know that you like her more than a friend. you don't want to get in between her and pj's relationship. you don't want to be that kind of girl.
hazel huffed and rolled her eyes, her hands now resting on her hips and her tongue pressing against the insides of her cheeks. "oh i'd love to understand why you decided to ignore me out of fucking nowhere."
your brows furrowed as you stepped a little closer. "that's ironic," you chuckled at her. "like you didn't ignore me when you started your little fight club."
her eyes widened a little bit. hazel was thrown off at what you said, the knot in her stomach getting tighter. "no, i—"
"wow..." you breathed out, shaking your head in disbelief. "so it's only okay when you do it?"
"you didn't talk to me!" she stepped closer.
"you didn't talk to me either!" you stepped closer. hazel could see that your eyes were filled with rage. bottled up emotions from when she was ignoring you started to peek through. "if you were going to ignore me for pj, you could've just fucking told me! you could've been honest!"
she cocked her head to the side. "pj? what does pj have to do with this?"
you stepped back and paced the room, one hand on your hips and the other on your forehead. hazel was confused when you brought up pj. sure, they kissed, but it was for a distraction. the whole time she was kissing her, you were on her mind. but of course, you don't know that.
"you didn't have to hide your girlfriend, hazel."
huh? hazel thought. "what girlfriend?"
now you were confused. "pj? i mean... you guys made out in front of the entire school—"
"that was for a distraction!" hazel then started pacing around the room while you stopped and watched her.
"distraction for what?!"
"huntington was about to kill jeff by spraying pineapple across the field during the game," hazel explained while you try to search for any lies in her eyes and words. "my bomb didn't work so we needed another distraction to stall the game— wait, shouldn't you know this? weren't you at the game?"
you swallowed and wiped your hands on your shorts, trying to calm yourself down and not cringe at what you're about to say next. "i left... when you and pj... y'know..."
hazel took a step closer to where you were. "why'd you leave?"
"because..." you stuttered, looking at anywhere but in front of you, words stuck in your throat as she took another step closer. "you wouldn't want to know."
"tell me," her voice dropped into a whisper, now only inches away from you, blue eyes piercing into yours. "why'd you leave?"
you took a deep breath and pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself and everyone in the world. "i couldn't stand watching you kiss pj."
"why?" she took one step closer.
"because i like you." closer.
"of course you do," she chuckled and walked once more until her face is centimeters away from yours. "it'd be weird for our friendship if you don't."
she didn't want to jump into conclusions. you wanted to rip your hair out at her obliviousness. you could feel her breath on your face. her eyes glancing at your lips. the both of you wanted to let each other know about your feelings, your sweet intentions. but you were afraid that it'll be sour, bitter. that your emotions are still unripe.
"hazel... you don't understand—"
"make me."
with that, you closed the space that was in between you both, connecting your lips to her soft ones. it felt right. it wasn't sour. the kiss was gentle and sweet, much like a strawberry shortcake lip balm.
AAAAAA ive been writing this one for awhile i hope u liked it!! ;v;
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zeldasnotes · 1 year
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PART 24 𓇼
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𓇼 Ive seen a lot of Cap Moons and Risings who are the oldest sibling in the family and a lot of Cancer Moons and Risings who are the youngest.
𓇼 Ive also seen a lot of Capricorn Suns and Moons who had to take a lot of responsibility from a young age. A lot of them started working early or had to be the caretaker of a sibling.
𓇼 Venus 10th house people are so blessed. They are well liked and people love watching them do anything. Especially anything related to beauty. They are the kind of people who have thousands of people watching them do their makeup on tiktok live.
𓇼 Cancer placements/Moon 1st housers might want to live close to their parents. My dad is a Cancer Sun and ever since he moved to his first own home he made sure to live so close to my grandma. And when we moved again he made sure my grandma moved too. I could always see my grandmas house from my window.
𓇼 Ive said it a lot of times before Venus in the 1st house in synastry is a beautiful synastry overlay, BUT its such a ”I want beef with you” placement. Remember that Aphrodite (Venus) was very vengeful and extremely jealous. Nobody was allowed to overshine her. Aphrodite was actually a goddess of war, not only sex, beauty, love and fertility.
𓇼 People with Juno(3) conjunct Sun or Ascendant are very loyal friends.
𓇼 Pluto in the 10th house/Scorpio Midheaven can be such a lonely placement because people are sooo competetive with you. You feel like you cant share your wins with anyone because people are constantly wishing for you to mess up.
𓇼 A lot of mothers with Moon aspecting Pluto can feel like they have a hard time bonding with their daughters because they never bonded with their own mother or with women in general. Taking care of and raising a ”woman” can feel hard because they never had a woman be nice to them. Same with Moon/Lilith
𓇼 How long you stay angry at someone got a lot to do with your own placements BUT it also got a lot to do with the other persons placement. People with Venus conjunct Mars can do anything and people still have a hard time being mad at them because they have this natural likeability and charm. You cant stay mad at them. People with harsh Pluto aspects have a deep and longlasting effect on people which can make people less likely to get over what they did. People also think that Plutonians do things on purpose when they dont. People are less likely to forgive a Plutonian.
𓇼 Also when a Plutonian does something hurtful people will think they planned it. Plutonians are seen as calculating. People will be like ”oh he probably planned this for years” while when a Venusian does the same thing people will be like ”oh it was probably a mistake, she didnt mean it”. Anyways my advice for Plutonians dont try to make people see the good in you, give them a reason to hate instead. Be the bad bitch they project onto you😎 This is also why so many Plutonians grow up becoming very nasty and bitter because this was projected onto them which lead to them being outcasted, bullied, not welcomed, scapegoated etc.
𓇼 Plutonians be acting so funny. The kind of person to stare at someone and not moving their head only moving their eyes, thinking nobody will see them staring.
𓇼 People with Ceres(1) in the 1st house or conjunct Sun look better without makeup than with it. Same with a lot of Virgo placements. Ive seen it so many times.
𓇼 People with Neptune in the 1st house have this vulnerability to their appearance. They can look concerned or worried. They act like Claire Richards in the movie White Oleander.
𓇼 Fire signs are so good at working in the service industry, especially restaurants. Because they work fast and are social. They are also good at coming up with witty comebacks towards rude customers.
𓇼 To my Mercury/Pluto people please protect yourself. Dont be too nosy because you will see and hear things that will hurt you. You have an obsessive need to find out the truth and go deep into any situation. Sometimes its better to just leave it. Sometimes its better to not go on your ex social media profile, or make that call to ask that question. Sometimes its okay to close your eyes to protect your heart. (NOT close your eyes completely and start dreaming like the neptunians tho)
𓇼 Having your 12th house ruler in the 1st house can be a very hard placement to have because you will have less energy than others. Some of these people cant handle working a full time job. Others view them as lazy but its not their fault. These people should never work in the service industry because bumping into that many people can be too much for them since they absorb peoples energies.
FIXED STARS 𓇼
Fixed star Mirach 0° Taurus is the star of the artist. Having a personal planet conjunct This star makes you extremely artistic which will be seen in the way you dress.
Fixed Star Denebola 21° Virgo conjunct Sun or Ascendant gives a strong desire to rebel against what society says to be normal
28° Gemini Fixed star Betelgeuse makes someone very argumentative and witty with a quick mind. If its conjunct Mars it can make the person someone who looks for argumentations with others.
If you have Fixed star Antares (9° Sagittarius) in conjunction with a personal planet you have to be careful with becoming to obsessed.
The description of this Fixed star says ”Obsession leads to a downfall.”
Fixed star Izar 28° Libra conjunct personal planets makes sometimes very interested in the interested in the occult, the taboo and serious subjects.
Fixed Star Facies 8° Capricorn conjunct Ascendant gives a person a probing and intense stare. There have a lot of psychological insights into others. Very strategic and vindictive.
©️ 2023 Zeldas Notes
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eyesxxyou · 6 months
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Confessions pt.ii
♡ hobie brown x religious!reader
rating. m
word count. 5.1k
synopsis. after years of being missing, Hobie finally returns back to his hometown where his childhood crush still waits for him. but you're more dedicated to God than ever and he couldn't care less. he wants you and he intends show you all that you're missing out on
♡ °。 ⋆⸜ warning: religious themes, criticism of Christianity, corruption kink, defiling kink, making out, fem masturbation, oral (f receiving), angst at the end
Part. i
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You shouldn’t be here. 
Hobie slipped a note into your palm during the next congregation and when you unfolded it, in his scribbly handwriting, it said, ‘meet me around the side of the church if ur coming’. If you didn’t show up, he’d know your answer and you wouldn’t be forced to say no to his face. You were a people pleaser, you’ve hardly ever said no in your entire life. He knew you, you were always a pushover. More often than not, he’d say no for you. He's had to more times than he can count on both hands. He thought he’d make it easy for you. It was a kindness.
After church, with your trusty rosary with it’s pearl beads against your pretty, brown skin, you stood with your parents. You curled a finger around the coiled ends of your braids much like Hobie would do during sermons. Was he still waiting for you or had he already left? Should you go and check? You didn't want him thinking you would actually go with him.
Your parents were wrapped up in conversation. They wouldn’t notice if you left just for a little bit. You wouldn’t run off with Hobie, you’d go just to tell him off. You were a dedicated child of God and you would not be consciously participating in any kind of sinful act with him. So you marched over with conviction, each step made with confidence. You weren’t a child anymore, you could say no to someone by yourself.
But rounding the corner and seeing Hobie standing there, leaning against his old motorcycle with his hands in the pockets of his spiked, leather vest, waiting just for you, made you falter. He was so devastatingly gorgeous, but Lucifer was beautiful as well and you can’t fall for his temptations.
Hobie perked up upon hearing your little mary jane shoes against the asphalt, you didn’t approach any further, dressed in your slip dress that reached your mid-thighs and light pink cardigan. His lips twitched. You twist your ring and nip at your bottom lip. You’ve spent your nights awake, tracing your lips with the tips of your fingers. You close your eyes and remember the weight of his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, exploring and claiming. That heat between your legs would slowly return, aching and pulsing and begging to be addressed.
In a moment of weakness, you’d slide your hand beneath your duvet and slip your fingers beneath the band of your panties. You’ve never touched yourself before, not in all your 20 years of life. Suddenly, you went from never touching yourself to reaching between your legs every night, experimenting with what you found pleasurable. On your first night, you stumbled upon wetness coming from your hole, a little up, you found a spot that, when you rubbed it, made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You played with it, rubbed it with your fingers, tugged on it, anything to make that feeling stay. And then this feeling would emerge in the pit of your stomach, an impending sense of doom building. The feeling terrified you and you would stop until the feeling receded before praying for forgiveness.
But you did it the night after that, and the night after that, muttering Hobie’s name under your breath, imagining his long fingers playing with that bud of pleasure you weren’t sure if it was just you who had. You were so thoroughly unaware of your own body, not knowing the names of things, of literal parts of your own body. But that bud was so sensitive. You could imagine Hobie on top of you, whispering in your ear those words and it would make you whimper. Whenever you’d reach that point, when the feeling would build on itself, you would stop out of fear of the unknown.
“I’m not going with you, Hobie.” Hobie, Hobie, Hobie, you’d moan his name under your breath, your hand over your mouth, rosary under your pillow, bible on your bedside table. Did he know? Did anyone know? Could they tell you’ve changed? Could they see the dark shadow casted over your once untainted light? Could the see the way you moved differently in the mornings when your mother would make breakfast? The way you trembled just a little more? If so, no one has said anything.
He only looked at you, tilting his head to the side, staring. You couldn’t handle the burn of his gaze against your skin. You felt inclined to say something more by his stare, like your refusal just wasn’t enough and didn’t deserve an answer.
“I don’t wanna be bad. I don’t wanna feel guilty after, Hobie. I don’t wanna feel shame.”
“Then why’d ya even come ovarhere?” Hobie finally spoke, turning his head back upright. The question caught you off guard. Why did you come over here? “I gave ya the opportunity not to even come but here ya are in front’a me, luv.” He stood up and walked slowly over to you. You made no motion to retreat from him which only confirmed his theory. You held your rosary tighter. "I– I–" You scrambled to come up with something quick. "I wanted to make sure you were gone."
"If you didn' care, you wouldn't've come over in the first place, so, once again, why'd'ya come ova?" He caught you again and was approaching so close now.
“Regret and guilt are two entirely different things, luv.” He reached and caressed your face with the pads of his fingers. He touched the pink ribbon in your hair tying it back into a ponytail and smirked at how cute it was. “You wanted t’ kiss me, you only feel bad ‘cause everyone ‘round you is tellin’ you you should. Why should ya feel bad f’feelin’ good?”
That’s why you got on his bike, Hobie had you sit in front of him as there was no seat in the back for you; with his arms one either side of your body and your back pressed into his chest. You were small compared to him, everyone was, but the way his body seemed to wrap around yours quite nicely.
But as he kicked up the kickstand and started up his bike it was something entirely different. The rumble of the motorcycle as it roared to life made you yelp, your hands on the gas tank to brace yourself. You looked behind you– your body firmly placed on top of his lap– with fear in those pretty eyes of yours. Your rosary was in his pocket, completely out of access to you if you didn't want it left somewhere on the road when it few out of your hands. Sor you only had him to comfort you.
"Jus' relax, doll. I got'chu." 
That's why you're here how, at his place which was just a hotel on the outskirts of town. He never planned to stay longer than a week but you had caused a change of plans so now he's here indefinitely. It was fine as a place, not too shabby but certainly not the most well-kept either.
You shouldn't be here. But you can't say you don't want to be as Hobie unlocks his door and lets you in. He's right. Regret and guilt are two different things, you were coming to learn.
It's cleaner than you expected it to be, only a few stray articles of clothing tossed around which he picked up one by one while making his way to the kitchen. "Any water f'ya, doll?"
Your mouth felt dry, no matter how much you attempted to conjure up saliva. You twisted your ring, biting your lip as you shook your head no. The whole place smelt of him, like smoke and sin and musky cologne, and you loved it.
Being alone with him conjured up memories of being alone in your room in the still of night, your parents fast asleep. It weighed on you, the guilt, the shame. You had to get it out, had to tell someone. You thought of confessing your sin to the Father but the idea of anyone in the church knowing… you'd simply die of your shame.
"I have to tell you something." You blurted out as Hobie tossed his clothes into his room and out of the way. He came back, a brow raised, the piercing above it shifting with the muscle. He didn't say anything, just let you say what you needed to. If you were to confess it to anyone, it had to be him. He'd keep it, he had no one to gossip to. Catholics made terrible gossips and they'd eat up that the perfect little, model child they all adored wasn't so innocent after all.
"I…" you shifted your weight between your feet and found yourself staring at everything other than him. "I touched myself." You let it out in a breath you've been holding in for far too long. You were on the brink of tears, the guilt was eating away at your soul. You could already feel the heat of hellfire at your feet. "I didn't know what I was doing but I kept doing it and It felt good and I know I'm not supposed to give into Earthy pleasures but I couldn't help myself–" you began to babble as you always do when you're about to cry.
A smile crept across Hobie's lips, almost one of pride. "Atta girl." He leaned into you, his body all close to yours. How Hobie loved to be close, touching, intimate with another person, with you. "How was it?" 
You brought your hands up over your face to cover your embarrassment and your tears. "You're not supposed to encourage this kind of behavior!" Your voice struggles to remain normal but you're so bad at hiding your crying, you always have been. "I did something bad, very bad. You should be reprimanding me. I'm going to hell!"
Hobie took one of your hands and peeled it away from your face to see your wet cheek and sighed, taking at you. "Tha' so?" You nodded with a whimper. He pulled you in gently and wrapped his arms around your small body. You placed your face in his chest while he pet your head and shushed you. "Then we goin' t' hell t'gether, crybaby." You pulled away from him and slapped his arm, pouting. "Stop it. That's not funny."
Hobie's deep chuckling sent ripples of heat to the place between your thighs. He pulled you back in close, his hands grasping at your slip and pulling it clad against your body. "There's nothin' wrong wit' wha'cha did. I's natural. You're no' goin' to hell, luv." His hands trail up the sides of your body and slip beneath your cardigan to slide it from your shoulders. "So…wha'cha think of?" He took your cardigan off as you turned your gaze away from him in shame. You couldn't bear to tell him that, admit such a thing to his face.
But your lack of words was all the answer he needed. "Me?" How cocky his voice got. You began to cry again, the shame too much to bear. "I won't do it again, I promise to God!"
Hobie was laughing at you, the whole situation unbearably funny to him. You couldn't believe him. How could he laugh at a time like this, when you were crying right in front of him? Why was this all so funny to him when you were crying in the middle of his makeshift home?
"Stop cryin', luv. I'm not mad at'cha." He grabbed your face and wiped your tears with the pads of his thumbs and the backs of his rough hands. "I'm jus' curious what i' was tha' got'cha all hot 'n bothered. That kiss in the grass, was i'?"
You nod sheepishly, nipping at your bottom lip at just the thought of it. "It was nice." You admitted between sniffles. Just nice was an understatement but it was the best you could come up with at the moment. You touched your lips again, thinking back to it and smiling to yourself. If not for your shame, you would have looked at it as a fond moment.
Hobie dipped down and took your lips with his. He had you up against the wall in seconds, his tongue prodding at your lips to coax them open. You bloomed for him like an innocent flower he planned to crush in his palm, all sweet and innocent as you timidly stroke his tongue with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck. No amount of practicing with your hand would prepare you for the real deal, the way he so intricately explored your mouth with his hot muscle, so expertly made you moan softly into him and melt against his body pinning you to the wall.
Hobie reached up and pulled at one end of your ribbon, your hair fell from its ponytail down your back with curled ends brushing against your behind. His fingers found themselves tangled up in your braids that faded into caramel as he held your face to his and kissed your feverishly.
He brought his knee up and nudged yours apart before slotting between your thighs. Your dress hiked up enough for his knee to press against your panties and your heated core. His hands were grasping your thighs, stroking the soft, plush flesh with his calloused fingertips like he wished he could be so soft, so untouched. Could he tell how wet you were, how much you wanted him?
You couldn't help yourself. Your body took control and grinded itself down against his knee, the folds you barely explored rubbing against his knee and thigh so as to satiate that aching you always felt around him, when you thought of him, when it came to anything involving him. It felt so good, rutting your hips against his leg while his tongue sought out yours.
"We can do so much better than jus' kissin', dove." He murmured against your lips, tongue still stroking before his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip. "Jus' lemme take you to Heaven." Before you made your descent into Hell. "You trust me?"
You nodded. 'With my life', you wanted to say. Hobie was your life for a time, your world. You loved him so much as a child, if anyone knew, they would have considered it idolatry, blasphemy, and would have separated the two of you. The echoes of it were still there just like the echoes of the Hobie you knew and loved so early were still there behind the exterior. He would have been your husband if he hadn't left, he was if your own quiet wedding behind the church house as children held any validity.
You shouldn't feel bad about any of this, you wouldn't if you told yourself you were already married "by law of child's imagination" like it carried more weight than law of the the Lord Himself.
Hobie carried you into his bedroom, his bed unmade, the sheets smelling so heavily of him you thought you might spend the rest of your day's wrapped up in them. He had an old Polaroid camera sitting on his bedside table that you paid little attention to but would become highly important later on.
He placed you on his bed, his lips tracing along the unmarked skin of your throat. You were tense, unsure yet yielding to his touch, cautiously optimistic. "Jus' relax, dove. Can I take this off?" He tugged at the strap of your dress. He saw the way you hesitated, the way those pretty eyes of yours flickered with unsure emotions. He didn't want to completely turn you away, only to push on the borders of your comfort and show you that your pleasure will not be your end.
"I want to keep it on." You couldn't bear the idea of being completely exposed, especially to him. Maybe you feared that he might up and leave again and take with him your dignity. So you held on so tightly to it in order to protect yourself. What if he hops on his motorcycle the next morning with the taste of you on his tongue and you have nothing to show for it? 
"Then we can keep it on." He didn't want you to become uncomfortable around him, thinking he was some vulture out to steal away something precious to you. No matter how much he believed what you held most precious was only created to keep you oppressed.
His hands kept lifting your dress, his palms and fingers groping your thighs more until his digits reached the edge of your underwear. He kissed down your silk-clad diaphragm and naval, your body reacting to every touch. Your back arched towards him, your muscles shuddered with every kiss, your nipples pebbled with arousal and rubbed against your bra. He pushed your dress just above your underwear and kissed the lace-lined waistband. He caught a glimpse of your bra when taking off your cardigan and noticed that the two sets were different. There was something oddly endearing about it, a genuine bit of innocence. Any other girl planning to meet with a boy she likes would have made the effort to make sure they match, but you had no intentions on doing anything nefarious coming into this.
His innocent girl.
"Can I take these off?" Hobie asked again, muttering into your lower stomach against your waistband. He loved the little pink bow on the front of your white panties that matched the ribbon that was once in your hair.
You paused, unsure as you looked down at him so desperately to find his own Heaven between your legs. His eyes asked you to trust him, that he wouldn't hurt you if you just placed yourself in his hands. So you nodded, slowly, and sat up to watch him. You weren't sure what he planned to do, but whatever it was, he'd make sure it felt good.
Hobie slipped his thumbs beneath the band of your underwear and began to pull them down. You lifted yourself up a bit to help him out before sitting back down and watched as he brought them to your quivering thighs. You shivered as he removed them and bit your lip as his hands reached between your knees and parted your legs.
You covered your face with your hands, uncomfortable with the idea of being laid completely bare in front of him. You attempted to close your legs once more but Hobie's head was already between your knees, kissing. He didn't leave marks anywhere else, knowing that you'd have to go home to your parents who would certainly lock you in a closet it they thought you were having sex, or embarrass you in front of the entire church by declaring your business. But he could leave his marks here, where only he would know, where only he could see.
His lips left red marks along your dark caramel thighs, marks that would eventually blossom into roses of blue and purple. Your thighs were sensitive, shivering as he made his way further and further down from your knee, closer to your aching core.
You were so pretty, full lips already slick with arousal, your hole clenching around nothing at all, aching to be filled yet so untouched it didn't yet know what. There was hair, not that he minded, it was the mark of a woman. Hobie glanced up at you, your covered face desperate for some reprieve from the embarrassment of the situation. "You look so pretty, luv." He spoke, his lips so close that you could feel his warm breath against your nether lips. "Stop hiding from me. I want you to watch."
You lowered your hands cautiously, lowering your guard as well. Hobie was looking up at you, waiting with his lips right next to yours. "Atta girl." He murmured before leaning in to kiss your pussy lips. You moaned breathlessly, placing your legs over his shoulders and pulling him in, your eyes fluttering.
"Lay back, doll. Jus’ relax." You worship at an altar all day but who worships you? "Lemme worship ya." His voice so soothing that you fell back against his pillows without a care, his scent in your nose only adding to your pleasure. Hobie parted your legs further, had them spread as far as they could go to reveal you to the cool, open air. Your pussy ached, clit swollen, wet all over. He didn't know where he should start.
"Can ya be such'a good girl 'n ask f'me?" He wanted to hear you beg for it, needed it from those shy, plump lips of yours.
He watched the way you almost dripped with arousal as you let out a small, meek, "please" of humiliation. His teeth nipped at your joints, just beside where you needed him the most, a punishment. "Tha's no' wha' I mean, luv. Ya gotta ask fa i'"
"Please, just touch me!" You couldn't take it anymore, you cried out your words with a desperation you've never before had in your life. "I'll do anything, Hobes, anythin' you wan', bu' please, I need you right here." Your fingers stroked your clit for a moment, words blurring and babbling out of you. You played with yourself the way you would if he wasn't watching, messily, awkwardly, without a real understanding of what you were doing, only that it made you feel good.
"Ah, ah now, don't touch." He tugged your hand from your clit even more swollen now. "Tha's all y'had t' say, lovie."
You whimpered as he licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit before flicking his tongue against your swollen, aching bud. His fingers slid between you legs and circled your trembling cunt. His digits quickly grew slick with your creamy juices. 
You never knew pleasure like this could exist and you never knew you could make noises like these. Your back curved away from the bed and you let out something of a choking moan. His tongue lavished over your virgin clit, his fingers teasing a hole never used, everything was so much more sensitive and you were so much more reactionary.
“Mmh~ Hobie, right…there.” You whined out for him, hips trembling and jolting. Hobie kept his free hand on the junction where your hip met your thigh and pinned you down. The pleasure was making your eyes go cross, your hand reaching down to hold Hobie’s head and keep him right where you needed him. “Hobie, Hobie, Hobie, please! Oh God!” His name was a prayer on your lips and for a moment, he was your god. God of pleasure, of sex, of sin.
If only you knew how he worshiped you, how his tongue on your clit, lips sucking, fingers threatening to enter your tight cunt but knowing you’re not ready for it yet, was his altar to you. Giving pleasure could be his religion, tongueing at your hole could be what he dedicates his life to.
“Grab the camera, take a picture. Jus’ f’you, dove.” He murmured against your desperate pussy, his mouth and his fingers trading places. He rolled your clit between his fingers, rubbing and circling while his tongue lapped at your cunt, sending shivers with each stroke of his tongue.
You palmed around for the camera on his bedside table and grabbed it once you found it. You looked through the viewfinder through bleary eyes and snapped a picture and he licked broad strokes of your tongue each one marked by a kiss against your clit.
That tongue of his was ungodly, with his piercing touching and catching on all the right places. You snapped another picture as he spat on your aching clit and let it dribble down your wet pussy. Both printed out on your stomach, the moment immortalized in image.
Hobie momentarily used the pad of his middle finger to flick your clit. “Keep those…so ya have some’ betta to touch yaself to.” He smirked and returned to his task at hand. His tongue was back on your pussy.
Your body rolled with each stroke of his tongue. You’ve never felt like this, never moved like this, never spoken God’s name in vain. You’d die if he stopped and you know you wouldn’t be going to Heaven but at least you got just a taste of it on your tongue before you went.
There was something building within you, that familiar feeling of unknown nature that terrified you. It was approaching quick, what you believed might be death itself coming for you. It stacked in the pit of your stomach and terrified you. 
“Hobie, Hobie please– stop!”
He pulled away from you swiftly. “What, what’s wrong?” You scared the shit out of him. Did he do something wrong? 
You sat up, pulling down your dress to protect your modesty. The feeling quickly subsided and you sighed in relief. “It’s nothing you did. It’s me.” You wrapped your arms around yourself and cast your gaze away. “Everytime I…touch myself–” even now it’s hard to pry from your lips, “there’s this feeling that I get in my lower stomach. I don’t know what it is, but it terrifies me.”
Hobie stared at you for a long moment then slowly began to laugh. “Dove,” he choked out, “tha’s an orgasm.” He sighed, “Lemme finish, I promise, you’ll enjoy i’, luv.” He pushed you back down against his pillows and set the discarded images down on the other side of the bed. He slid your dress back up over your hips and parted your legs once more.
You nibbled at your bottom lip as his tongue piercing touched your clit. He sucked your rosebud and swirled his tongue in a way that immediately brought back your building tension in your lower abdomen. He wanted to taste you when you came, his tongue searched for your entrance while his fingers played with your pretty little bundle of nerves 
“Hobie– Hobie!” You cried out for him. It was taking you, seizing you like the heat of hellfire. Hobie moaned against your cunt. “‘S okay, luv. Go ‘head ‘n cum f’me.” he needed to taste you, to have you, to know he’s the only one in this entire world to have you. His tongue coaxed you to your first orgasm and it seemed to ravish you like never before. Your muscles tensed, toes pointing then curling.
“Oh– oh my…God.” Your entire body shook with your pleasure, your vision going white and your ears filled with ringing. Were you seeing Heaven? The warmth that enveloped your body felt like paradise, like perfection. You grabbed Hobie’s hair and tugged lightly as his tongue drank in your creamy juices tainted with the stain of the fruits that you eat.
Hobie licked you clean, ate like more of a starved dog than any human. He had you shuddering through the last flashes of you orgasm.
“You feel tha, luv? Tha’s what Heaven feels like.” He kissed your inner thigh and watched as you came down from your high, shuddering. You shivered, your eyes still closed with the aftershock of your very first orgasm. Who knew something sin could feel so good, that something so wrong could feel so right.
Hobie let you close your legs and delicately pulled your slip back down to cover you up. He came and laid on the bed beside you. "How was 't, dove." His fingers pushed your tousled hair out of your face and tucked it delicately behind your ear.
You finally opened you eyes and let out a breath you had been holding for what felt like years now. So this is what pleasure felt like, what real, true, bodily pleasure felt like. It was something otherworldly. 
"Like-" you could only describe it in this one way, "Heaven." You whispered with stars in your eyes as you looked at him. "Does it always feel that way?"
"If ya wit' me, it will." He laughed that pretty laugh of his and held your waist. He was just so pretty, so likable despite his aversion to Christ. That smile of his, the sly way he spoke, tempting you further into debauchery, his way of carrying himself like he was higher than God himself. You couldn't imagine a world where you did anything like this with anyone else. You wanted just him, only him, between your legs in every version of the word.
You didn't say that. Saying things like that scared boys like him, the idea of real commitment, especially for Hobie, who could leave on a dime once again.
Hobie leaned in to kiss you again, his hand holding your face between your jaw and your neck. You let him kiss you, tenderly kissing him back but your mind was far elsewhere. He could tell you weren't here with him, hear the way the gears in your head churned with worry. He pulled away from you. "Wha's wrong?"
You stopped and thought of the words you wanted to say and the best way to put them as to not scare him away. After a while, you decided to just say what you meant, whether is scared him or not. "You won't leave me again. Will you, Hobie?" 
You had to ask. You had to know before you invested yourself in anything with him, before you committed yourself to sin. You didn't want to ruin your life over nothing, just for him to pack his things and leave you again.
He was taken aback by such a question at a time like this. But as he looked into your eyes, he found them pleading for reassurance before you'd let him do anything more with you. They asked him a simple question. 'Will you be here by next Sunday?' 
If only he could tell you that he only came back for you, that after all these years, he never forgot about you. If only he could tell you how much he's missed you over the years, how one day, he just hopped on his motorcycle and drove hours on a whim, on the slim chance that you were still here in this small town where everyone knew each other. Maybe you had tired of the brainwashing as well and left soon after him. But you were still here, as dedicated to the Lord as ever. If he had waited any longer, you might have become a nun.
Here you were, still waiting for him he liked to think– in your pretty little dresses and skirts and your mary janes. All guiltless and untouched, waiting for him to show you the pleasures of the outside world. Would you still have those big, blameless eyes after he's had you in every way he could? Would your body still shudder at his very touch? Would you still be you after he's so thoroughly taken you?
He hoped so.
Hobie stroked your cheek. "I'll leave when ya get sick an' tired 'f me, doll."
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