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#the middle one... he made history that day
canthelpit0 · 20 hours
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Jealous girl
Pairing: Chris x jealous!Reader
Wordcount: 5.1k +
Summary: where a girl from school, that you don’t like, somehow knows Chris. Your school life and private life collide, as you decide to make rash moves to get back at her, and teach her a lesson.
Warnings: smut, jealousy, rich kid!Reader, use of y/n, they’re seniors in HS, marking, possessive!Reader )if u squint), pet names, p in v, filming, creampie, unprotected
(A/N: ik I’ve been doing a lot of rich kid reader, but it’s just sm easier 😭 I'm sorry for any grammar errors, English is not my fist language. also, the song has like barely anything to do with the plot.)
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I’ve been friends with the triplets for most of my life. We just click.
I’ve always had a slight crush on Chris, he’s the first one I met.
I was scribbling a drawing in kindergarden, sitting at a table all by myself, when Chris came up to me. He started to talk to me and rant about something, until he declared us friends.
We grew up together, went to the same elementary and middle school. But being a rich kid, my parents wanted me to go to a private high school for better education.
So now I go to a private high school in Boston, while the triplets go to Somerville high school.
At first I really didn’t want to go, since it was a private school with uniforms and all. But my parents weren’t letting up, and even threatened to send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.
So I reluctantly agreed.
There was this girl, Eva. Your basic blonde girl with green eyes.
Now, I never liked Eva’s friend, but that was years ago, and I don’t think they’re even friends anymore.
Anyway, me and Eva share the same AP European history class.
We don’t talk a lot though.
★ ★ ★
I walk down the hallway making my way towards the door. Today was a draining day and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.
But I have homework and-
My thoughts are cut off as I stop in my track raising an eyebrow. There was chris, standing in front of the main entrance of the school.
“Y/n?” He asks excitedly. It’s like my brain pauses for a moment.
“Chris?” I ask back.
At this point I hadn’t seen Chris or his brothers in a month or so. I was too busy studying and they were busy with lacrosse.
I live in Boston at the border to Somerville. And Chris lives in Somerville. But my school is 40 minutes away from his by car.
He opens his arms and I gladly hug him. I sigh as we embrace, my eyes closing briefly.
“Why are you here?” I ask. After all, Chris, to my knowledge didn’t have a drivers license and no reason to be here.
“Well, you know Eva? Well I gave her my jacket a week ago and I came to pick it up since she goes to your school-“ He rants, his words come out fast and jumbled by how excited he is to see me.
“How do you know Eva?” The words come out sassy. And honestly if i wasn’t hyper aware of the fact that we’re on school grounds I’d slip in a swear word.
“Well a week ago I was out in Boston shopping with Matt and Nick and this girl came up to me asking for my jacket since she was cold. Just out of nowhere” he starts to rant again, but I don’t even have half the mind to interrupt him.
After all, this felt like two of my separate worlds were colliding. And I didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t seem to dislike her like I did, wich only made me despise her more.
“And you gave it to her? A stranger?” I raise an eyebrow a huff leaving my lips.
I sound more sassy than I intend to, but I can’t help it.
Students walk past us slowly. Being in a private school most people loved it here. They weren’t pushing to leave.
We stand at the side of the main entry, still inside.
“Yeah. She asked for it” he sasses back, matching my attitude. Yet his smile stays big on his face and I could tell he wasn’t serious.
“What if she stole it?” I roll my eyes looking back up at Chris who had a few inches on me.
“That’s what I said too.” He agrees dramatically. “So she offered to give me her snap and told me she’d give it back to me next opportunity she got.”
That seems a bit dumb to me. She’s rich, she could just buy a new jacket if she’s outside and cold.
“You’ve been talking?” I question. I cringe slightly at the jealous tone lacing my words but Chris doesn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Yeah” he chirps back happily.
Oh so now they were snapping too?
He sticks out like a sore thumb. The way he carries himself, the way he smiles and acts, is just a dead giveaway that he does not go to a private school. Let alone, the fact that he’d not wearing a uniform like everyone else walking out right now.
Some people give us weird looks, but most don’t even care.
I purse my lips, if my day hadn’t been bad already, it was definitely ruined now.
The problem wasn’t that he had friends, other than me. But the fact that I knew her and knew how much of a Bitch she is, and how he can’t realize that.
The fact that he knew that she goes to my school, and that i probably know her, But didn’t even bother to mention it to me.
“You know what class she has right now?” He asks me. He actually has the nerve to.
“No.” I roll my eyes. Honestly I couldn’t care less. I only share that one class with her.
I turn on my heel to walk away, but before I can he grabs my elbow pulling me back slightly.
“Please don’t leave?” He asks sweetly.
I huff yanking my arm out of his grasp. Sure it could be awkward standing in front of the main door, obviously not going to this school looking like a lost puppy. But it’s Chris, he’ll survive.
“Chris, I have shit to do”
that’s a lie. I don’t have anything planned today. I just wanted to go home and sleep.
“Pretty please??” I huff turning back around. I stand next to him, my arms crossed as I scan the people leaving the building.
“Cute uniform you got there.” He says licking his lips slightly as he looks over my body.
I was wearing the green plaid skirt. And a basic white, collared button down. Along with the schools signature green cardigan and the tie.
I had so many layers on it was crazy. Since it was a more chilly day in Boston I had my tights on, but under the tights I had Thermo leggings on to keep me warm.
Honestly if people at public schools think the dress code is strict they should go to a private school for a day.
Once three buttons from the top of my collared shirt were unbuttoned and I was dress coded for it.
Atleast the skirt wasn’t horrendously long.
It could still be considered a mini skirt if you squint.
“You say that every time you see me in it” I scoff. I can’t help the fact I’m being sassy, I’m just in a horrible mood.
“I mean it.” He answers.
But before i can respond I hear an annoying voice from in front of me. “Hey Chris.” I turn my head to look at Eva.
The bitch is smiling wide. She was wearing the khaki skirt and the navy blazer with the black tights.
I purse my lips. God I wish I could dress however I want to for school.
“Hi Eva.” Chris greets her with a hug.
I physically try to hold back a scowl. They talk about something and I drown Out Eva’s pitched, bitchy tone.
Of corse Chris wouldn’t pick up on the flirting. But I see the way she smiles at him. The way her eyes trail over his face and linger at his lips for too long.
And I don’t know why I’m getting all territorial, but I guess I’m scared that Chris won’t have time to hang out anymore if he starts dating.
Either that or I just know how much of a bitch she is and I could treat him better than she ever could.
“Y/n this is Eva, Eva this is y/n” Chris makes us shake hands. He introduces us like we don’t know each other.
She chuckles at the silly gesture. She doesn’t hate me and I don’t hate her either. I just don’t like her, and the way she acts.
I’m rich, sure. And I’m more wealthy then her, but atleast I don’t act like a brat.
We start to walk, with them chatting, and me just trailing behind them.
We get to Eva’s car, she’d said something about driving him home or something. Does this girl know he lives like more than 40 minutes away?
My skin crawls at the thought of them being together in her car for that long. All alone.
“Chris come here” I wave him over for a second. Eva doesn’t question it instead going on her phone.
He walks over to me. I grab him by the shoulder to pull him down as I whisper in his ear. “You always pick the worst people to befriend.”
I let go of him. He groans rolling his eyes. His past two friendships with girls he befriended had ended horribly. But it was so predictable.
“Y/n/n. Come on” he scoffs. I turn to walk away to my own car to drive home.
Until he grabs my arm again pulling me back. “Can we talk.” He mumbles his arms wrapping a round my torso his chest pressed against my back.
“Not now.” I huff pushing myself off of him slightly. He wasn’t holding me tightly so I get out of his grip fairly easily.
“Y/n” he huffs.
“Don’t start.” I sass at him. I clench my jaw. I feel disappointed but not surprised. Eva wasn’t the type to show guys she’s interested in just how bitchy she really is.
“I gotta go, have fun.” I smile at him sarcastically. I let my smile drop as fast as it had appeared finally walking away from them.
But when I glance over my shoulder he’s already standing next to her smiling down at her.
★ ★ ★
The whole week after she found out I knew him, she’d constantly call him, and be around me and tell me stuff about him as if I didn’t know.
She’d sho me pictures of them together, she’d tell me jokes that I’ve heard before.
It was just the same old recycled bullshit.
He’d told her that we’ve known each other for basically forever. Why the hell was she talking to me like I didn’t know him?
That weekend I went over to the triplets house like I usually do, ready to sleepover.
I was in nicks bedroom talking to him.
“God, Chris always has terrible friends. And he needs to stop talking to everyone he sees.” Nick says with an eye roll.
This was our weekly complaining session.
“I know right, he befriended some girl from my school-“ I’m cut off by Nick.
“Eva?” I nod.
“I met her a few days ago and she’s so annoying.” He agrees slapping my arm a few times as he gets worked up.
“Right.” I scoff agreeing with him.
“And she totally has a thing for Chris.” He rolls his eyes hard.
I purse my lips. Good to know that I’m not delusional and that someone else sees it too.
After that the conversation topic shifts until Nick is ranting about some random TikTok song, and about how it’s obviously written to go TikTok viral and whatnot.
★ ★ ★
“Where are you gonna sleep tonight?” Nick asks, lying flat on his back, on his bed.
I slept over almost every weekend. And usually I’d rotate between whose bed space I’ll take up.
It is Friday, I always come over Friday after school. And then I stay until Sunday. And Sunday afternoon I go back home.
I always stay over on the weekends unless I have like an upcoming exam or something.
“Uhm.” I pause. I should sleep in Matt’s room tonight. But I want to talk with Chris more.
“Chris” I state. Nick doesn’t even question it.
The last time I’d slept over was over a month ago. and while sure, we did hang out in the past month, I spent all my weekends studying.
Nick had no mind to question me. He couldn’t care less. I could tell he’d missed me, and knowing I was sleeping over was comforting no matter where I slept.
We talk for a bit more until I stand up and pick up my overnight bag. I hug Nick and tell him I’m gonna head to Chris’ room.
We really need to talk about making good friends, and who to not befriend.
Because it keeps happening that Chris will pick out the shittiest people to befriend. And god it’s so irritating having to listen to him complain after they ‘betray’ him.
I walk upstairs to Chris’ room and unceremoniously swing the door open.
Once the door opens I’m immediately greeted with the sight of the pale pink LED’s on. There he was laying on his bed laying ON his side his phone up to his face.
“Oh hi y/n” he smiles at me briefly before going back to staring at his phone.
Chris usually called me any nickname under the sun before calling me my actual name.
Eva’s piercing voice echos out of the phone speakers making my expression sour immediately.
“Hi y/n” she says loudly. I can’t help the eye roll.
“Chris.” I hiss under my breath my eyes narrowed in a glare. He glances back at me his lips pursing in mild annoyance.
He tells her he’s got to go and that he’ll call her back. Chris then hangs up, slightly sitting up, his back pressed against his head bored.
I walk in fully, now closing the door behind me.
I put my overnight bag on his desk.
“I think she likes you.” I say simply my lips tugged into a straight line.
He huffs a laugh as if he thinks I’m joking.
I look over my shoulder, observing the grey sweatpants and white wife beater combo.
He crossed his arms staring back at me.
“I’m dead serious.” I say flatly. “Ever since she found out that I know you, she’s been coming to me in breaks and talking about you like I give a fuck.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek his expression falling flat “you’re serious?” He asks his voice painfully monotone.
“Of corse you didn’t realize” I roll my eyes turning back to look at my backpack.
“Whatever” I roll my eyes. I grab my make up bag that I always had in his room and I walk out the room to the bathroom to take off my make up.
After a few minutes I come back to see him on his phone again.
“Shit you’re right.”
Chris breathes out not even looking at me just saying that. He was going through previous messages only now seeing the underlying flirtation in her choice of words.
I raise my eyebrow at him before it registers what he is saying.
“I know” I say simply.
“How do I let her down slowly?” He asks his eyes finally going up to meet mine. His blue eyes only seem more exaggerated under the pink LED lights.
Before walking away from the door I lock it, he sends me a questioning glance but ultimately doesn’t say anything.
“You know, like how do I tell her I’m not interested, without saying that?” He adds still looking at me.
I walk up to the side of his bed.
I then roll my eyes getting on the bed. I sit next to him my back against the headboard as well.
We’re both quiet, the air in the room thickening. I can practically feel my skin burning up.
“How about you make a bold statement?” I break the silence after a moment.
Before he can respond I turn and get on his lap. My eyes are dark as I Simply sit on his thighs.
His hands go to my waist out of instinct. My arms wrapping around his neck.
He huffs out a breath his cheeks tinted a slight red. “What? you wanna make a sex tape or something?” He rolls his eyes.
I roll my eyes back at him. “That would be bold, but I don’t want her to see your dick.”
“Ooh possessive?” He teases. Chris unconsciously squeezes my side making me whine under my breath.
He chuckles at the sound, but before he can comment on it I’m speaking again. “I was thinking hickey , but if you want to fuck so bad then-“ I cut myself off.
“We can do both” he assures.
I lick my lips. And before I know it I move his face with my hand tilting his head to the side. My lips touch his jawline. I kiss down his jawline to his neck before I start to suck harshly.
He lets out a harsh breath his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
“Easy ma, you got all the time In The world.”
Ma. I genuinely don’t know where he heard that, but at some point he just started calling me ma or mama.
Like I said, he used every pet name under the sun, before saying my actual name.
I pull away for a second my eyes scanning the small purple bruise on his neck.
“No.” I breathe out harshly before starting to peck his neck again. Until I bite down, relatively low on his neck close to the other hickey.
I bite hard, making sure my teeth print would be there while also sucking another hickey into his skin.
He hisses at the harsh feeling, his hands clenching and unclenching on my waist. He doesn’t stop me tho. Quite contrary, I hear a few whines leave his mouth. His sounds sounding borderline like moans.
I pull away admiring his neck.
I move the strap of his wife beater to the side, kissing down his collarbone. I suck more marks into his skin, until I deem it enough.
“You wanna tap this, handsome?” I tease , my eyes meeting his pale blue ones.
His eyes are half lidded and his pupils blown out in pleasure.
It’s really late by now. It’s dark outside. And the light pink LED lights make his blue eyes look even bluer.
“Please?” He asks sweetly his tone feigning innocence.
I can feel the hardness press up against my clothed core. I grin back at him, my eyes dark in lust and half lidded like his.
I cross my arms and tug off my t shirt. I throw it to the ground, letting Chris Bask in the sight of my bra covered chest.
The lust radiating off of him only seems to double.
“So pretty.” He coos. And before I know it he’s leaning forward and kissing my chest.
He glances up at me through his lashes and mumbles against my skin. “Can I leave hickeys too?”
I chuckle at the question. It really didn’t matter for me. My schools dress code is strict and I would have to cover them up anyway.
“Under the neckline” I nod simply. And before I realize it he’s sucking on the tender skin of one of my boobs.
He licks and sucks at the skin, half my boob covered in his saliva now.
I tug in his top. He groans against me, obviously not wanting to pull away. But he eventually does, I pull the wife beater over his head and throw it to the floor.
His hand goes up to cup my other boob while he kisses down from my collarbone to my chest and then sucks another hickey at the top of it.
I card my hand through his hair while I don’t bother pulling him off. He lets me stroke his hair moaning into my skin.
He pulls away, his eyes even darker than before. his hair now messy as well.
I get off of him. He groans at the loss of contact. I can see he’s about to complain. But before he can, I start to undo my pajama pants and slide them down.
My black lacy thong and my black lacy bra match.
Chris had made fun of me for wearing such ‘slutty’ underwear before. After all whenever I showered here I left some of my clothes, namely my underwear, here.
I had my own little section in Chris’ closet filled with my panties and bras.
“Fuck.” He breaths out closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again as if checking if he was seeing things.
He starts to shift and tug down his own sweatpants. He eagerly tugs them off along with his boxers letting his cock spring free.
My mouth quite literally waters at the sight of his hard dick lying flat against his stomach.
He lays down flat on his back looking to his side to look me in the eyes.
“Please ride me ma.”
He says in such a pleading and whiny tone, how could I say no to that.
I walk past his bed to his desk and pick up my phone from where I’d put it.
I walk back tugging the thong off swiftly. I get on top of him straddling his torso. I grind myself against his dick, feeling it glide between my wet folds.
I tug on my bra trying to get it off. And when I finally do, it’s also discarded quickly.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous mama.” He sighs looking at my boobs, both of them having small hickeys on them.
He puts his two hands on my waist lifting me slightly. He trails one hand down to my folds examining my pussy.
I feel him push his middle finger into my cunt abruptly to wich I moan.
He hums as if he was thinking. “So tight baby.” He coos his second hand on my waist caressing my skin gently.
“Gotta stretch this pussy out. We don’t want it to tear do we?” Chris asks sarcastically, obviously joking.
I lick my lips and let out a dry chuckle. His girth really did look painfully big. Atleast for what I was used to.
It wasn’t like he was that big, but it was definitely well above average.
I hand him my phone so he can start recording and that’s just what he does. He uses his hand from my waist to film this.
The camera pointing right at my pussy. He pushes a second finger in, briefly finger fucking me and scissoring his fingers to stretch me more.
“So fucking soaked.” He groans under this breath.
Chris takes his fingers out of me grabbing his hard dick and jerking it for a second. I lift myself and he positions it at my cunt, while also making sure to keep the camera at the right angle.
I push myself down letting out a breathy moan.
His hand, that’s not holding my phone, goes to my waist to steady me.
I suddenly push myself down on him completely. I whine loudly, my body jerking forward at the impact. He groans at the feeling of being balls deep in me.
“You okay?” He asks rubbing my waist gently in comfort.
“Yea” I breathe out my eyes closing as I try to get used to the feeling.
My legs are already numb and I’m already questioning why I’m on top.
I start to slowly bounce myself on him. He watches through my phone, his eyes glued to where we connect, seemingly fascinated by the sight.
“So tight for me.” He breaths out harshly trying to hold back loud groans. He was painfully aware of the fact that his siblings and parents were home.
I start to bounce on him more listening to him shower me in praises and compliments.
“Fuck.” His eyes stay trained on the phone screen, but he occasionally glances up to look at me.
I start to ride him harder the compliments and praise only making me wetter.
“God, come on, get yourself off on my dick like the slut you are.” He huffs. His free hand lightly on my waist to help me steady my movements.
He tries not to be too loud, both for the camera and because everyone is home.
I lean forward slightly and take my phone from his grasp.
I film his face and his reactions now.
His hands go to my waist slightly squeezing my skin as I start to rock my hips harder.
“Good boy, be quiet yeah.”
I feel the knot in my stomach tighten threatening to snap. The constant hit to my sweet spot is so overwhelming, and before I know it I’m releasing on his dick.
my hands are shaky but my phone is still angled at him, catching his mouth dropping in pleasure.
I clench around him letting out soft whines and moans, while Chris uses his hands to make me grind on him.
After a second when I calm down he grins. Chris holds his hand out for the phone that I give to him. He lifts me slightly to show the Camera the white circle my cum created around his length.
He makes no move to switch our positions so I just grind into him.
Chris turns the recording off and puts my phone on the nightstand. His hands find their way to my hips holding me tightly.
But before he can switch our positions like he was lplanning to, his phone starts ringing.
I glance ova seeing Eva as the caller ID. I roll my eyes. I feel pretty over stimulated already, but I want her to know.
“Pick up.” I demand under my breath. Our eyes meet for a moment but he eventually complies.
He leans over and takes his phone, picking up the call with a frown.
As soon as I hear her annoying voice i start to ride him again, making sure that the slapping sounds are loud enough.
He tries not to groan at the movements, trying to keep himself together.
“Eva, uh” he pauses his eyes locking with mine once more. He can’t help it when his free hand on my waist urges me to go harder.
“I’m kind of busy right now”
But she doesn’t get the hint and questions him. “Too busy to talk to me?”
Fucking pick me.
“Yeah well” he lets out a soft groan, pulling the phone away so she doesn’t hear it too well.
She starts to yap about some unimportant shit. Chris puts the phone on the side of the bed sitting up.
I stop moving due to Chris harsh grip. He pulls me off and flips us around.
I grab the pillow re- adjusting it so the side of my face is buried in it, my ass up for him.
He grins a soft slap echoing through the room. He kneeds my ass trying to smooth the pain of the slap.
He spreads my cheeks and pushes himself back in. He immediately starts up a harsh and fast pace fucking me into the pillow.
“Are you having sex right now?” Eva questions sounding like a brat who was just denied a toy
He leans over for a second picking up his phone. “No I’m not, why would you think that” he scoffs continuing his relentless attack to my sweet spot.
My core throbs around him, clenching to try and suck him back in.
“Oh my god you are-“ before she can rant about god knows what, Chris hangs up the phone.
He scoffs his grip in my waist tightens as he continues to forcefully pull me back on him.
He goes to the camera app on his phone starting to film once again.
He admires the way his entire length disappears into my tight cunt, and the way he has a white ring around the base of his cock from my previous release.
He picks up pace even more, if that was even humanly possible, until I feel like im going to cum again.
I turn my face and burry it in the pillow trying to muffle my noises. Because honestly I’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t already know what we’re doing.
“Close” I whine out between incoherent moans.
“Me too ma. Hold it for a bit, yeah?” He says sweetly his harsh actions not so sweet.
“Where do you want it?” He keeps glancing between the camera and me, sometimes angling the camera to show my back and the back of my head too.
“Inside” I whine. And that mildly catches Chris off guard.
He only picks up pace tho, his palm meets my butt again, in a harsh slap. I moan at the feeling. “Come on come for me” he demands.
And before I know it the knot in my stomach snaps once more my thighs shaking and my cunt clenching a round him.
The Camera is focused on my cunt. His thrusts get more sloppy and messy until he gives me one last harsh thrust.
Chris releases into me, filling me up to the brim and stuffing me.
We both stay like that for a moment to catch our breathes.
He stops the recording and throws the phone next to me, onto the bed.
He trails his hand over my ass and lower back, before gently grabbing my hips and pulling out.
He lets out a breath seeing his length covered in our combined juices, and me leaking.
He pushes me on my side slightly, so I’m laying down fully. I sigh turning my face into the pillow my arm under it.
“You okay?” He asks softly. Chris kisses my shoulder softly.
I just realized that we hadn’t kissed once. This entire time, his lips hadn’t been on mine not once. And I don’t know if he did that on purpose or not.
“ m’ good” I sigh closing my eyes briefly.
I nuzzle my face into the pillow, breathing out. I blink my eyes open again sighing.
I feel his eyes burn into the side of my face.
“Were you jealous?”
My eyes shoot open and I turn my head slightly to look at him. “About what?” I say simply playing dumb.
“Why do you not like her.” He asks again.
“I never liked her.”
“Right, and you don’t like that she likes me.” He states simply.
I scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself” I huff and nuzzle my face into the pillow.
“You literally have my cum inside of you right now, ma.” He huffs in response.
I purse my lips burring my face harder into the pillow.
“I like that.” He says again making me look back at him. Chris is looking down at me with a sweet smile
“What?” I ask and look at him from the corner of my eyes.
“That you’re jealous.” Chris replies, his smirk ever so cocky.
“Why would I be jealous?” You huff, replying sarcastically.
“Don’t deny it ma. I think it’s cute.” Chris chuckles. He grins down at you victoriously. He lays down next to you staring into your eyes.
Masterlist
A/N: this was so fun to write lmao. sorry for not posting in the past few days, I was just busy with school and didn't have the motivation to write. Feel free to to send me stuff my req and asks are open <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf
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crazy-ache · 3 days
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I'm not sure if you're still doing those, butttt
Bathtub Fic x Sick/Injured or Scars Fic for Elucien 😁
For you…YES!!
Bathtub Fic & Sick/Injured or Scars
For the scene, I am going to take us to the Winter Court. Perhaps it is a part of their journey to Koschei or to explore her Seer powers—early in the relationship, with the barest shreds of trust between them—and somewhere along the travels, they encounter the infamous hot springs of Winter.
Picture mountains and snow and nuzzled deep within the white, icy forests lay natural hot springs. Lucien has been here of course from his emissary days. He explains the benefits and urges Elain that she simply must try out this particular hidden gem—that there is none like it in all of Pythian. She agrees nervously. And her eyes go wide as she watches Lucien begin to strip off all his clothes.
Elain blushed, turning around instantly. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get my clothes wet in this cold and the hot springs are best enjoyed naturally.” Lucien laughed and she could hear him kick off his shoes and pants behind her. Then the sound of water splashing as he entered, quickly followed by a near moan from Lucien’s lips. “Come on, Elain. It’s incredible. I promise I won’t look, lady. On my honor.”
It’s enough to make Elain bite her lip and consider. It did seem incredible. And she had dreamed of traveling the world her entire life. She couldn’t be a coward now that she was here. “Turn around!” She barked her command, and only once her mate confirmed he was indeed facing the other direction with his eyes closed did she begin to undo her dress, stockings, and boots. Without a single article of clothing, she raced into the water before the shivers overtook her body. And indeed it was amazing. A similar relaxed moan tumbled out of her mouth as she sank into the warm, steamy waters.
They were back to back, because Elain didn’t have the courage to do it any different. To bare herself to him. Not with the amount of desire she secretly harbored inside. Even if the water came up right to the swell of her breasts. But even like this, she could sense his smile. His comfort. They talked leisurely and at length. Now that they were finally spending time together, she was caught off guard by how easily he could make her laugh. It was at one particularly wicked joke that her body curved and her skin made contact with his back.
Immediately she felt the scars. Ridges upon ridges of marks across his back. They both flinched instantly. Elain from the surprise and Lucien no doubt from the sorrow and pain embedded deep with every scar.
There’s no other thought except concern surging through her veins as she whips around, breaking her own rules, to face his back. He is frozen, as if he’s been caught. Shame? Elain can’t stop the gasp as she takes in his whipped back. “Who—how—” She is shaking even if the water is so unnaturally hot, leaving her pale skin red with the heat.
“Punishment when I was Under the Mountain.” He answers. Elain reaches for his back, running her fingers across every single mark. He does not move. There’s so much she can see now. The history like a constellation across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain etched in his skin, one of loyalty and bravery and suffering, so much like the matching one on his eye. She can see the corded muscles taut with restraint. The curve of his ass just below the water’s surface. His long molten, red hair curtained over his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. And she means it. She’s sorry for what happened. The primal, visceral part of the mating bond wants to avenge him. Wants to make it as if it never happened. And she’s sorry for all the distance she had once kept between them, when all he had were these scars to keep him company all this time.
Elain wraps her arms around his middle, fingers gliding over the defined abs of his stomach, one hand grazing against the strong, tone muscle of his chest. She kisses his shoulder, right at one of the scars. The another and another and another.
And maybe, just maybe, she’s working up the courage to spin him around and kiss him elsewhere.
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silverofthunder · 2 days
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☆ speranza ☆
Terzo (Papa Emeritus III) x Female Reader
summary: ”I think I can see us being happy. Finding it along the way.”
content: 1.1k words, history au, arranged marriage, tiny bit of angst, hope of romance, SFW
Well, as I'm a bit stuck with my Dracopia series I decided to write something else. I'm not really into history but I love movies like Pride and Prejudice so I had to write this little piece. Hope you like this! 😊
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"You look beautiful, my princess," your mother said, smiling warmly at you. You let out a short hum, taking a look at the mirror. You were wearing your finest dress – it was lovely but it felt so tight that you felt you couldn't breathe properly. Or maybe it was due to the fact that soon you would marry a man who you really didn't know, let alone love. It was bound to happen at some point but still there had been a tiny part within you that had hoped you didn't have to go through arranged marriage. It felt suffocating to get bound to someone that was basically a stranger. "My dearest..." your mother's voice shook you out of your thoughts and you looked at her. "You will learn to love him like I did with your father." You tried to smile at your mother but it probably wasn't that convincing as your mother took a hold of your hand and squeezed it. "Prince Terzo is a good man. Kind and well-mannered, highly respected and strong-willed. He will treat you right, we know that." "I hope so," you said and your mother gave you a stern look. She knew you had doubts but didn't appreciate that you voiced them. There was nothing that could be done to change things. You just had to accept your fate. Sighing, you moved your gaze back to the mirror and your reflection. You forced a smile on your lips and years of practice made it look near perfect, almost genuine. "That’s more like it," your mother spoke softly, bringing your hand to her lips and kissing your knuckles.
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You and the Prince Terzo, who was your husband now, were taking a brief walk in the palace gardens. The summer day was beautiful, sun shining bright above you, and you had to admire the flower sea around you. Your life had changed due to marriage but it had been smoother transition as you had expected it to be. Fortunately, Terzo understood and even shared your thoughs of arranged marriage – neither of you were happy about it but you had promised to try. It had been a few weeks since you had moved to another kingdom, the one that was ruled by Terzo's older brother, Secondo. Their father had passed away due to severe illness as well as their older brother Primo, so Secondo had had to take the weight of the crown some years prior. "There seems to be a lot of thoughts occupying your mind." There was a hint of amusement in Terzo's voice and you turned your head to look at him with a small smile on your lips. "I do," you stated. Terzo looked at your curious, his mismatched eyes bright. It was a strange thing – the eyes being a different color but you found it to be a lovely detail. "Is there a chance I can hear about some of them?" Terzo's curiosity was welcomed. You had expected him to be uninterested about you, only wanting you to fulfill your duties as a wife but it was far from truth. He seemed genuinely to want to get to know you and it made you feel more appreciated. That you were more than just a woman who had to look pretty beside him and eventually bear his child. "Maybe," you answered, grinning slightly and Terzo shook his head and moved in front of you, stopping both of you in the middle of the path. He took a hold of your hand, leaning down and placing a light kiss on the back of it. Heat rushed to your cheeks even though the gesture wasn't new to you. But it felt somehow sweeter now. "Such a mysterious lady you are, my dear," Terzo said smiling. "I thought this marriage would only make us both miserable, like we would be birds trapped in a cage, but seems like it might not be the case." It was quite an optimistic view, considering you didn't really knew each other well, yet, but so far things had been good. And you wanted to believe that they would stay that way. "I'm also glad we seem to have same kind of view regarding this marriage." Silence fell between you after that and Terzo used it to pull you close to him, the heat now starting to tingle your cheeks. The way he was looking at you, was making your heart hammer in your chest and butterflies flutter in your stomach and the proximity felt nice, comfortable. "You are so beautiful," Terzo said quietly and you couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped from you. "Oh, stop it." Terzo's other brow quirked up. "But I'm only telling the truth. The first time I laid my eyes on you, I swear I forgot to breathe for a moment." "This," you said, motioning to your whole appearance, "will fade and change during the years." "I know. That's why what's in the heart matters the most in the end." You tilted your head, curious. "You really seek that? The deeper connection?" you had to ask. "Sí," Terzo answered, now lifting his hand up to cup your cheek and gently caress it with his thumb. "Always hoped that I could find that. I don't want anything hollow or meaningless, I've seen enough of that." Terzo's words warmed your heart and you couldn’t help but smile. It sounded too good to be true but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. You were now bound to Terzo and you had to do your part, fulfill your duties but if you could trust to Terzo’s words, there could be something else, too. Maybe something more meaningful, true in the future.
”Do you believe that we can find happiness in a situation like this?”
Terzo didn’t answer straight away, he focused on looking at you, probably thinking his next words. Slowly he started to run his fingers along the shape of your face, his touch light. You shivered, your cheeks burning as his fingers swiped over your lips. Terzo breathed in deep and you mimicked that, releasing the air right after.
”Can I kiss you?” Terzo asked, his voice sounding velvety. Your heart jolted and you moved your hand to take a hold of Terzo’s arm.
”Yes,” you whispered and then Terzo was leaning in, pressing his lips softly against yours. It wasn’t your first kiss but it surely felt like one. Sweet and short, leaving this tiny pleasant warmth lingering in your body afterwards. You squeezed Terzo’s arm, smiling at him in awe when your gazes met again.
”I think I can see it,” he said, the look in his eyes catching a certain kind of seriousness. ”Us, being happy. Finding it along the way.”
No matter if it sounded optimistic, you took it. Right now it was just enough.
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sailorjisunq · 5 months
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재현
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genderkoolaid · 9 months
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Mustarjil is an Arabic term meaning “becoming [a] man.” Although it can be used derogatorily to refer to women who are perceived as having a masculine appearance and/or mannerisms, in Iraq’s marshes, it existed as a gender identity. Within the context of the Ahwari community, Mustarjil was a common gender identity, where people assigned female at birth decide to live as a man after puberty, and this decision was generally accepted in the community. The Mustarjils were one of many similar third gender categories around the world, such as the Hijras in South Asia. [...] “One afternoon, some days after leaving Dibin, we arrived at a village on the mainland. The sheikh was away looking at his cultivations, but we were shown to his mudhif by a boy wearing a head-rope and cloak, with a dagger at his waist. He looked about fifteen and his beautiful face was made even more striking by two long braids of hair on either side. ln the past all the Madan (Ahwari) wore their hair like that, as the Bedu still did. After the boy had made us coffee and withdrawn, Amara asked, ‘Did you realize that was a mustarjil?’ I had vaguely heard of them, but had not met one before. ‘A mustarjil is born a woman’. ‘She cannot help that; but she has the heart of a man, so she lives like a man.’ ‘Do men accept her?’ ‘Certainly. We eat with her and she may sit in the mudhif. When she dies, we fire off our rifles to honour her. We never do that for a woman. In Majid’s village there is one who fought bravely in the war against Haji Sulaiman.’ ‘Do they always wear their hair plaited?’ ‘Usually they shave it off like men.’ ‘Do mustarjils ever marry?’ ‘No, they sleep with women as we do.’” Thesiger continues to narrate several other accounts of mustarjils within the same community, as well that of a “stout middle-aged woman” who wanted to remove her male organ in order to “turn into a proper woman.” Thesiger later mentions: “Afterwards I often noticed the same [person] washing dishes on the river bank with the women. Accepted by them, [she] seemed quite at home. These people were kinder to [her] than we would have been in our society.” Around that time, Britain was still living under the shadow of Victorian norms, and gender non-normative people were still stigmatized and shunned. Communities such as the Ahwaris, presented an alternative model that created space for communities like the mustarjils, despite the dominant gender binary. 
— Recovering Arab Trans History: Masoud El Amaratly, the Folk Music Icon from Iraq’s Marshes by Marwan Kaabour
#m.
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boxingcleverrr · 5 months
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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ruggiezz · 7 months
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— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland
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[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am
[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)
[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)
[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions
── Most likely
★﹕LILIA VANROUGE
Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..
★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)
He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.
★﹕ROOK HUNT
Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.
★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA
He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.
★﹕SILVER
Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.
★﹕DEUCE SPADE
He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.
★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI
He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.
★﹕JACK HOWL
When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.
★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA
You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.
★﹕CATER DIAMOND
Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.
★﹕JADE LEECH
You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?
★﹕EPEL FELMIER
He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.
★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT
No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).
★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM
He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.
★﹕IDIA SHROUD
Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.
★﹕TREY CLOVER
... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.
★﹕FLOYD LEECH
He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.
★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.
★﹕JAMIL VIPER
No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.
★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.
★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.
★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT
Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.
── Least likely
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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—Envy
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synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.
♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader
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“I want to know why you did it.”
Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.
You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.
You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.
It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.
You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.
But maybe they would be eating something else.
Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.
“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”
Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.
“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”
You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.
“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.
A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.
Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.
Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.
“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”
He doesn’t reply, and you groan.
“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”
“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”
“I’m sure it was.”
Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.
And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.
After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.
“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”
He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.
“No.”
“Mmm…”
He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.
Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.
“Was it jealousy?”
His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.
You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”
“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”
Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.
“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.
“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”
That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.
“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”
He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.
“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.
“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”
You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.
“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.
He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.
He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.
“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.
He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.
“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”
Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”
You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.
“You never fucking listen.”
You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.
“Now clean it up, brat.”
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chvoswxtch · 4 months
Text
teach me
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.
warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 8.3k
a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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“You’re being a dick.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”
“You’re still being a dick.”
“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”
It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.
Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 
But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.
“That was real cute.”
Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.
“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”
“That right?”
Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”
“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”
“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”
“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”
As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”
Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 
The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.
In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.
Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 
“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”
Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.
“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”
Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.
“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”
Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.
“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”
While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.
“Show me.”
Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 
“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”
Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.
“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”
Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.
“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”
Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.
“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”
Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.
“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”
Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 
Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.
Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Holy shit, that actually worked!”
Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.
“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”
Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.
“I have a gun.”
“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”
Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 
Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 
“Yeah…yeah it does.”
And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 
“Okay, step three.”
A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.
“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”
The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.
“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”
Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.
“Good. Show me.”
Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 
The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.
“Show me.”
“I’m not doing that-”
“It ain’t loaded-”
“Frank, I don’t want to-”
“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”
Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.
But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.
Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.
Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.
“Hey-”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”
“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”
“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”
“And what if I can’t, Frank?”
The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 
But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.
Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.
“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”
The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.
“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”
Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.
“You are such an ass.”
The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.
“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”
Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.
“Lemme hear you say it.”
Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.
“No hesitating. I promise.”
“Attagirl. C’mere.”
Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.
Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.
Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.
“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”
Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.
“I had a good teacher.”
“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”
“I thought I had terrible aim?”
“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”
A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.
“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”
Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”
Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.
The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.
“Frank-”
“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”
A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 
“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”
Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 
“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”
His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.
Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.
“Fuck…Frank…”
Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.
“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.
But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.
That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.
“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”
Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.
You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.
“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”
Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.
“You alright there, sweetheart?”
Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.
Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.
“If ya need a minute-”
“No. Now.”
While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.
“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”
A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.
“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”
The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.
“Got somethin’ better in mind.”
By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.
“Wait.”
Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.
“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”
Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 
“Huh?”
Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 
“What are you-holy shit.”
Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 
You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.
“Just relax.”
The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.
The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.
“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”
Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 
All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.
“C’mere.”
He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 
“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”
“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”
Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 
Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.
“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”
This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.
Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.
Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 
“Frank-”
“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.
Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.
It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.
“Frank…I…I-”
Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 
Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.
The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.
As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.
“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”
Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.
“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.
“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”
“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”
When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 
How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?
Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.
What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-
“Quit it.”
The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 
“What?”
“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”
Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.
“How do you even-”
“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”
Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.
“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”
Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 
“Hey Frank?”
“Hm?”
“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”
Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.
“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”
That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.
“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”
Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.
“How?”
“Hell if I know.”
Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.
“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No it don’t.”
“So…he’s-”
“An asshole. Go to sleep.”
Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.
“Frank!”
“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”
“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”
“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”
“I thought Billy was your only friend.”
Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.
“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”
Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.
“Hey!”
A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.
“I’m not done. I have more questions.”
“Course you do.”
“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”
While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.
“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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s-brant · 9 months
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Make It Better
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my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)
After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.
8k (18+)
Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.
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For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.
With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.
The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.
She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.
How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?
"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."
She frowns at him.
"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.
She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."
The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.
It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.
After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."
With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.
"Okay, smileee—"
The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.
Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."
Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.
"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."
His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.
After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."
When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.
As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.
Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.
They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.
She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.
"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"
"But it wasn't every day!"
Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.
"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"
What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.
"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."
The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.
Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."
She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."
This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.
Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.
She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.
Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.
They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."
She nods.
"We can go to my house."
The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.
She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.
With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.
The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.
She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."
From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.
"What—"
The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.
Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.
Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.
A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.
"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."
When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.
"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."
The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.
He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.
His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—
"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."
She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.
"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"
The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.
"Is that okay?"
In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.
In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.
He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy.  Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.
Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.
But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.
In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.
The thought of it slows him down for a second.
That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.
"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.
The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.
His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.
The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.
The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.
Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."
This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.
"I didn't say anything."
She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"
At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.
Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.
"Connie..." she breathes out.
This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.
He asks, "You nervous?"
Words fail her. All she can do is nod.
"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."
To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.
"That's exactly why I'm nervous."
Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.
"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.
The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.
This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.
Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.
"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."
The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.
She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.
The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.
She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.
Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.
He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.
In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."
This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.
He has had his fair share of hook-ups—not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.
Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.
Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.
As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.
She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.
He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.
Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.
It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.
Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."
He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.
It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.
This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.
"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."
His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.
It was horrible.
It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.
It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.
Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.
"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.
He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.
Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."
The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.
She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.
His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.
"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."
That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.
With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.
With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.
The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.
It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.
Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.
"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.
The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.
Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?
Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.
Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"
Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.
The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.
Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.
He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.
For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.
Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.
He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."
The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.
Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.
"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."
He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.
"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."
She blinks at him.
"For what?"
His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.
"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."
The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.
"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."
He nods.
"I did."
There's a long pause, then—
She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.
As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."
He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.
"And probably clean that."
A giggle escapes her when he says this.
"Yeah, we definitely should."
-
Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.
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mackandcheezy · 5 months
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Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
​​A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic
People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you. 
You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray. 
You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans. 
The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting. 
“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly. 
His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning. 
He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind. 
But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure. 
You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush. 
You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other. 
Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair. 
“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him. 
“Do we have something to be scared for?” 
“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying. 
“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you” 
“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first. 
You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.
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topgun-imagines · 11 days
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His Little Girl
Requested: No
Summary: You knew that Jake would be the best father to your baby girl. He didn't hesitate to prove it.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: Pregnancy, hospitals, & mentions of blood.
Pairings: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x wife!reader
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Jake Seresin was an amazing father. You thought that this would be the case, but the past few days were nothing but proof. Your entire pregnancy, Jake had been right there by your side. With every craving, every bout of morning sickness, every time you needed to feel the weight of your growing baby lifted from your shoulders, Jake was there. The whole nine months, all the way to your labour, he was the perfect husband. Not once during your 22-hour labour did he leave your side. 
Regardless of his caring tendencies during your pregnancy, somehow, Jake was even more caring the second your baby girl was born. Around 4:30 in the morning, Aimee Rose Seresin was born, weighing 6 pounds 7 ounces and perfectly healthy. You and your husband couldn’t have been more happy. Early that morning, for only the third time since you had met Jake, you saw tears filling your husband's eyes. 
When the nurses took out your little girl to do blood tests, Jake immediately ran down to get you something to eat. Jake arrived only seconds before the nurses did. He helped to prop you up and sort out your meal before Aimee was passed over to him. You watched with unlimited adoration as your little girl snuggled into his bare chest. You finished what you could have easily considered the best meal of your life before relaxing back onto your pillows. Within seconds, your eyes were slipping shut and you were drifting off into a peaceful sleep. 
You woke up a few hours later to the same sight of your baby girl asleep on her daddy’s chest. A soft smile grew on your face at the sight of your sleeping husband. Luckily, Jake had set your phone beside you before Aimee was handed to him. You snapped a quick picture and set it as your lock screen. You had never been more in love than you were now. 
Mere seconds later, the nurse walked in to check up on you. Your husband woke up slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “How are you doing, dear?” The sweet elderly nurse questioned as she reviewed your vitals. After only a few minutes, you were left alone again with your family. 
Your husband was standing now, walking toward you while rocking your little girl softly. Not only did Jake hold your little girl like she was the most precious thing in the world, he looked at you as if you hung the moon and the stars. In that moment, you could easily see how much he loved you. His eyes held untamed adoration as he set your little girl on your chest. 
“I love you so, so much, honey.” He whispered to you gently as he leaned down. A chaste kiss was placed on your forehead. 
The soft moment between the two of you was often one that you returned to when Aimee woke up crying in the middle of the night. However, even in those times of frustration, you knew that your husband was beside you every step of the way. 
Thankfully, you only had to stay in the hospital a few days longer before you were allowed to go home. Those few days flew by in a breeze, Jake being a large help through the whole process. You knew the history that Jake had with his father, so you were more than proud of the fact that he was already such an amazing father. The fact made you smile softly, watching your husband love on your little girl once more. 
Unsurprisingly, the ‘hot dad walk’ that you had been looking forward to since you found out you were pregnant did not disappoint, far exceeding any expectations you could have had. The sight of Jake carrying your baby girl out in her car seat had you swooning for your husband all over again. You waddled behind him slowly, happy to watch him walk away. When you finally arrived at the car, Jake made sure to let you know that he knew exactly what you had been staring at the whole time. Your cheeks were rosy the entire ride home. You sat in the back seat with Aimee, watching her sleep soundly as Jake made the slow drive home. 
Every few minutes, Jake would check on the two of you. “How are my girls doin’?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off the road. Another smile lit up your face as her tiny hand wrapped around one of your fingers. 
“We’re doing perfect Jake. She’s perfect.” There was nothing but pure awe on your face. In that moment, Jake thought the same about you. You were the light of his life; absolutely perfect just the way you were. He chose not to say anything, smiling softly at the thought of his new family. 
A few minutes later, Jake was pulling into the driveway of your home. He hopped out and pulled your door open, helping you out before he grabbed your baby girl’s car seat. She was passed over to you as Jake collected the rest of your belongings from the back seat. 
You sucked in a soft breath, grasping your husband's hand as you brought your baby girl into the house for the first time. Aimee slept soundly in her car seat, unaware of the happiness building in your chest. Your family was home. 
Together, you and Jake brought her up to the cozy nursery. Jake had spent weeks putting it together, dragging Bradley and Bob in at various times to help him assemble the furniture. The sight of three large aviators bent over pieces of a crib in a pretty pink room made you giggle more than once. As Jake emptied the contents of the hospital bag onto the changing table, you set Aimee softly in her crib. One of the tips that the nurses gave you was that when the baby was sleeping, you should be sleeping. After the exhausting few days you’d had, you certainly weren’t one to disagree. 
Seeing that Aimee was peacefully asleep in her crib, you and Jake grabbed the baby monitor and headed down the hall toward your room. Your husband pushed the door open for you, chuckling quietly as you flopped onto the bed. You offered him a tired grin. 
Mirroring your smile, Jake set the monitor on the dresser and walked toward the bed. “Hey there, pretty girl,” There was a loving look in his eyes as he climbed onto the bed beside you. His fingers began to trace delicate patterns into the soft skin of your stomach. “How’s my beautiful wife doing?” 
Offering him another smile as your eyes fluttered closed. “I’m doing amazing Jake,” You whispered, “Thank you so much.” You squeezed his hand softly. Even though you didn’t directly say it, Jake knew exactly what you were thanking him for. You may have not been able to see it with your eyes closed, but the smile on his face showed exactly how much he loved you. He didn’t have to respond; you knew he would do anything for his girls. 
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A/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open! I’ll start tagging people again once I start writing more <3
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little-pondhead · 9 days
Text
Your Ancient History, Written In Wax
-
Danny knew he should have put better security around the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. It wasn’t even Vlad who opened it this time! The fruitloop was too busy doing his actual mayor duties because for some godforsaken reason, the man got re-elected.
No, it wasn’t Vlad. And it wasn’t Fright Knight, either. Nor the Observants. Who opened the Sarcophagus, then? Danny didn’t have time to find out as Pariah Dark promptly tore open a hole in reality and hunting Danny down.
The battle was longer this time. He didn’t have the Ecto-Skeleton, as that was the first thing Pariah had destroyed. The halfa had grown a lot over the past few years, and learned some new tricks, but apparently sleeping in a magic ghost box meant that Pariah had absorbed a lot of power. The bigger ghost acted like a one-man army!
Amity Park was caught in the middle of the battle, but the residents made sure it went no further than that. Vlad and the Fentons made a barrier around the town to keep the destruction from leaking. Sam, Tucker, and Dani did crowd control while Danny faced the king head-on.
Their battle shook the Zone and pulled them wildly between the mortal plane and the afterlife. Sometimes, residents noticed a blow from Pariah transported them to the age of the dinosaurs, and Phantom’s Wail brought them to an unknown future. Then they were in a desert. Then a blazing forest. Then underwater. It went on like that, but no one dared step foot outside of Amity. They couldn’t risk being left behind.
It took ages to beat him, but eventually, Danny stood above the old ghost king, encasing his symbols of power in ice so they couldn’t be used again. He refused to claim the title for himself. Tired as he was, Danny handed the objects off to Clockwork for safe keeping and started repairing the damage Pariah had done to the town. The tear he’d made was too big to fix, for now, so no one bothered. They just welcomed their new ghostly neighbors with open arms and worked together to restore Amity Park.
Finally, the day came to bring down the barrier. People were gathered around the giant device the Fentons had built to sustain it. Danny had brought Clockwork to Amity, to double check that they had returned to the right time and dimension.
Clockwork assured everyone that they were in the right spot, and only a small amount of time had passed, so the Fentons gave the signal to drop the shield.
Very quickly did they discover that something was wrong. The air smelled different. The noise of the nearby city, Elmerton, was louder and more chaotic. Something was there that wasn’t before, and it put everyone on edge.
Clockwork smiled, made a remark about the town fitting in better than before, and disappearing before Danny could catch him.
Frantic, Danny had a few of his ghost buds stay behind to protect the town while he investigated.
He flew far and wide, steadily growing horrified at the changes the world had undergone. Heroes, villains, rampant crime and alien invasions. The Earth was unrecognizable. There were people moving around the stars like it was second nature and others raising dead gods like the apocalypse was coming. Magic and ectoplasm was everywhere, rather than following the ley lines like they were supposed to.
Danny returned to Amity.
The fight with Pariah had taken them through space and time. Somewhere along the way, they had changed the course of history so badly that this now felt like an alien world.
How was he supposed to fix this?
-
In the Watchtower, The Flash was wrapping up monitor duty while Impulse buzzed around him, a little more jittery than usual. The boy was talking a mile a minute, when alarms started blaring an alarming green. Flash had never seen this alarm before, and its crackling whine was grating on his ears.
Flash returned to the monitor, frantically clicking around to find the issue, but nothing was popping up. No major disasters, no invasions, no declarations of war. Nothing! What was causing the alarm?
Impulse swore and zipped to a window, pressing his face against it and staring down at Earth. “Fuck! It’s today isn’t it? I forgot!”
“What’s today?” Flash asked. He shot off a text to Batman, asking if it was an error. The big Bat said it wasn’t, and that he would be there soon.
“The arrival of Amity Park. I learned about this in school; the alarm always gives me headaches.”
Flash turned to his grandson, getting his attention. “Bart,” he stressed. “What are you talking about?”
Impulse barely glanced over his shoulder. Now that Flash was facing him, he could see a strong glow coming from Earth. “The first villain, first anti-villain, and the first hero,” he said anxiously. “They all protect the town of the original metas. They’re all here.”
“Here? Now??”
“Yeah? They weren’t before, but they are now. The first hero said there was time stuff involved, which was what inspired me to start practicing time travel in the first place.”
“I’m not following.”
“It’s okay. We should probably go welcome them before they tear apart Illinois, though. The history I remember says that some of them freaked and destroyed a chunk of the Midwest during a fight with each other.”
“WHAT?”
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#liminal amity park#I’ve seen stuff like this in the mhaxdp fandom and I eat it up every time#basically the fight with Pariah caused the town to jump through time a little#and while they THOUGHT they were keeping everything in#shit leaked out and tainted those points in time#so technically#historically and genetically speaking#Amity Park is the origin point for the meta gene and Danny made history as the first hero#because Clockwork is a little shit#everyone embodies a basic ability and it has grown from there#the flash family are direct descendants of Dani (speed force Dani for the win)#Dash is the reason super strength exists#so on and so forth#go buck wild#bart learned about it briefly in history class in the 30th century#practically hero worships them#booster gold knows about them too but in contrast to Bart’s excitement#booster is fucking terrified because there was a period where Amity Park rebelled against the US government#and he’s from that specific time#he learned to fear phantom because he lived during that part while Bart is from farther in the future when those issues got resolved#guess who’s chosen to welcome the town? >:)#if you’re wondering what happened to the GIW#they turned into the branch Amanda Waller runs#Danny is the first hero#Vlad the first villain#and Dani the first anti hero#there’s an arc where Danny is trying to fix things but clockwork won’t let him into the timestream and all the heroes are horrified#because yeah Danny is the OG but if he goes back in time to fix his ‘mistake’ what will happen to them?
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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months
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Relationship Weight 💘👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏾
Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader
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**gif credits to colecassidysfav**
TW: Minors DNI, eating disorder, insecurity, weight gain, self consciousness, body dismorphia, sexual content. I DREW ON PERSONAL EXPERIENCE/SOME OF MY INTERNAL THOUGHTS I HAVE DEALT WITH TO WRITE THIS AND ARTICULATE THE STRUGGLES I HAVE FACED PERSONALLY WITH EATING AND BODY IMAGE WHICH MAY BE FATPHOBIC OR TRIGGERING. IF YOU ARE QUITE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING LIKE THAT, YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP OVER THIS ONE x ❤️ I just wanted to write something where he's helping you through your insecurities about changes your body is going through...hope it's okay and you enjoy!
Synopsis: You & Miguel have been dating for almost a year. You're slowly healing your relationship with food and getting comfortable which causes you to put on some pounds. You're insecure one evening and he reassures you. (Reader is mid-twenties, Miguel is in his thirties)
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It was New Year's Eve. Spider Society was throwing a party at 9 pm tonight. Your new boyfriend Miguel was never one to want to attend such functions, God forbid he actually be forced to socialize. But at your urging he caved in. He wanted to make you happy and he knew you were dying to be part of his world even though you had no Spider abilities. You embraced his daughter and completely brought him into yours, after all. Your mom was already head over heels for him and couldn't resist stuffing homemade rolls, cookies, brownies, banana bread, or any other baked goods down his throat whenever y'all visited.
It was an amazing 10 months with Miguel. When you met, you were in the best shape of your life. You met at the gym when you'd always see him in the free weights area directly in front of the treadmills where you did your cardio. Every day he'd do his reps in a spot where you had a front row seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him grunting, strands of his dark hair falling over his forehead as sweat dripped down, his delicious shoulder muscles rippling and you couldn't help but try and picture yourself underneath.
In the beginning it was spicy and passionate. You'd send him selfies at work wearing lingerie sets and sometimes nothing at all which would get him hot and bothered in his office, sometimes in the middle of a virtual meeting. He'd turn off his camera and mic and groan at the sight of you and start palming himself to your photos when Peter B. Parker would stroll in, blabbing about something only to yelp and duck when Miguel threw his trash can at his head screaming at him to "Get the fuck out, Parker, I'm busy!"
After about two weeks of this, he finally caught you shamelessly staring at him and made a quip about how it's rude to stare to which your face nearly melted from the heat of embarrassment that rose in your cheeks. He smirked at your flustered reaction and finally introduced himself and the rest was history.
Your stomach was flat and defined in the beginning. You had a toned ass and legs and your arms were well sculpted. You'd go to the gym with Miguel all the time and push each other then come home and release all the tension in the shower. He'd fuck you mercilessly against the shower wall and you'd come undone beneath him. He loved doing it with the lights on, in front of the mirror, which you had no problem with. You looked damn good as you rode him with his hands on your thighs. Both of your perfect bodies moving together like some kind of porno.
Even though your body looked flawless, you felt immense pressure to maintain it. You couldn't help but feel insecure when you saw how perfect his figure was and how so many heads always turned when you were out with him in public. You had insecure thoughts when one of the gorgeous Spiderwomen he worked with would send him emails or when they'd go inside his office for their work evaluations, clearly fixing their hair to look good for him, your impossibly handsome boyfriend.
When he asked you out on your first date, you had maybe 6 bites total of your main course and insistently turned down dessert. You felt like you couldn't eat most of the day until you saw him later on in the evenings, wanting to make sure your body looked just as good as it did in the morning for him as it did as night.
But Miguel was good for your soul. He'd whip up the best comfort food for you after a long gym session. Your favorite was his Al Pastor, which he'd watch you eagerly scarf down with a smile on his face, then hand you the last few bites of his which he couldn't finish. He had your takeout orders memorized and would bring it to you whenever you had a bad day. Whenever you would try and order a small size, he'd shake his head and order you a large. He could sense you had difficulty with food and how much you ate. But it made his heart happy and warm to see you curled up on the couch next to him in your hoodie and sweats, munching happily on whatever food he brought you while he did the same and turned on the Netflix series you two were binging together.
You slowly let down your walls with him, but not all the way. In the 10 months you two were dating, you put on 80 pounds. Your stomach was no longer flat, even when you sucked in. It dropped over your pants and you only wore high waisted leggings to tuck it in. Your thighs and upper arms jiggled, much less toned than before. Your breasts grew larger and slightly more saggy when before they were smaller, yet round and perky. You stopped dressing cute. When you saw the number on the scale you panicked and threw it away, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
You were in a rut lately. You hadn't been to the gym with Miguel in weeks and just felt like hiding away and rotting in bed. You didn't want to leave the sanctuary of your apartment and PJs for fear of someone seeing you. You'd cry about your body in the day only to down half the snacks in your pantry at night and make you wake up with self-loathing. You refused to have the lights on anymore when you two made love. Normally you'd scream and sigh, letting him relish in your moans and pleasure, becoming a pornstar for him in bed, letting him bend and twist you into whatever position he wanted, and you'd take the lead and move your hips in circles that drove him crazy while he left handprints on your ass and scanned every inch of you with his eyes, burning your body into his corneas.
Now lately, you'd hide under the covers, refusing to get on top and preferred missionary or doggy style where you'd bury your top half in the pillows or anything where he didn't have a good view of your body. You were convinced that having him take you from behind was better because at least the only positive from your body changing was your ass getting bigger.
Now, it was New Year's Eve, and you were shaking on your bed, trying to stifle your sobs as none of the dresses you wanted to wear were fitting. All that fit you now was a loose knit top and a short skirt that was tight across your tummy bulge. When you turned around you could see your love handles from behind and the cellulite that dimpled the back of your thighs that were once smooth. You felt incredibly self-conscious and were so mad at yourself for letting yourself get to this point. You thought surely your Greek God of a boyfriend would be embarrassed to be seen with you. He must have won the lottery with his metabolism, because no matter what he ate, he stayed fit and sexy as ever.
Miguel walked into your apartment with a grin on his face after working out, setting his keys on the counter. He opened your fridge and his smile disappeared when he saw the lunch he bought you earlier still untouched, sitting on the top shelf. His brow furrowed with worry and he called your name.
"Amor?" He walked into your bedroom and found you sitting on your bed in tears.
"Baby?" He scooped you into his big, strong arms. "What's wrong? You didn't eat the lunch I got you?"
He kissed the top of your head while holding you close, letting you cry it out for a minute, not minding his collar getting soaked with your tears.
"Nothing fits me anymore!" you cried. "I seriously tried on all of my dresses in my wardrobe and nothing fits. I feel disgusting."
Snot began to run down your nose as your eyes began to swell and get puffy from all your weeping. Miguel got up and grabbed some tissues from your bathroom, handing them to you and running his hands up and down your arms as you sat back down on the bed.
"You're not disgusting, amor. Let me see. What's wrong with this skirt you have on?"
Miguel held your hand as you stood up begrudgingly, rolling your eyes and you gave a half-ass spin to show him your outfit that you absolutely hated.
Now, Miguel's eyebrows raised when you turned around and he felt his cheeks get pink as a small singe of arousal coursed through his body. Your ass really looked great. Sure, your ass was toned before, but he liked it much better now, the curvature much more pronounced as it blended into your hips, creating a wide, delicious hourglass.
But the part of you that grabbed his attention the most was the little bulge at the bottom of your tummy that poked itself out endearingly in your skirt. He couldn't articulate why but seeing that drove him crazy. He automatically put his hands on it to which you winced and grabbed his wrists, trying to move them away.
Miguel's face softened and his eyes grew sad.
"Let me touch you...please?"
You couldn't help yourself to his gorgeous sad eyes so you relaxed your grip, releasing his wrists and letting him touch you. He put his hands on your fupa and began to gently knead it in a circle, letting the circles get wider and wider until he moved his hands to a new area. He grabbed your love handles this time, using them to pull your body against his face as he planted small kisses against your clothed abdomen.
You finally let out a small whine which made him smile devilishly.
"There we go...I knew you wouldn't be able to hold back for me, hermosa," he whispered.
He slunk his hands under your skirt while kissing and squeezing the flesh of your thighs, worshipping your skin. "Do... you.. know...." he pauses as he sucks on your inner thigh.
"How fucking crazy you've been driving me lately? Do you know how much I've been dying to get my hands on you and appreciate you like this? It's been SO long..." His hands begin to massage your breasts which elicits more moans from you.
"I just... I haven't felt comfortable lately. I don't feel beautiful. I hate the way I look. I don't feel sexy for you," you hang your head in shame.
Miguel pauses and pulls you on top of him so you're sitting on his lap with your thighs on either side of him. He rests his hands back on your clothed breasts, gently increasing the pressure of his grip on them as he speaks to you in a hushed tone.
"Baby, I love you for who you are, not what you look like." His eyes scan you, hungrily. "But, I loved your body back then, and I love it now. Maybe even a little more so." He winks at you.
"R-Really?"
"Yes, really" Miguel murmurs as he runs his hands under your shirt, the coolness of his palms causing you to gasp which makes your nipples poke out a little, making him drool.
"Let's stay in tonight," he purrs as he squeezes your bare flesh under your shirt. "Please?"
"Oh, okay..."
"Good." He smiles at you and kisses you softly. "After I take my time with you, I need you to eat some food for me baby, can you do that? I'll get you whatever you want. My treat. I just want you to be healthy and happy with me."
You can't help but tear up and he cups your face in both of his large hands, squeezing your cheeks as he looks lovingly into your eyes.
"I love you so much. Don't ever worry about what you look like," his hands run down your body.
"Because at the end of the day, it's all for me, hmm?"
"Y-ahhhh!" Your response freezes in your throat as you feel overwhelming pleasure coming from your core, and you realize his hand found its way up your skirt and under your panties.
"Hmmm?" He asks, his head tilting, his dreamy brown-reddish eyes locked onto yours, relishing the way you're losing your mind to his fingers right now.
"You didn't answer my question, amor." He plunges deeper.
"God! Yes...God, yes it's all for you baby...only you," you groan.
He smiles a dazzling smile at you. "Good." He smacks your ass and lays back on your bed, pulling you over his face.
"Now I'm ready to suffocate."
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leclercings · 21 days
Text
My Papaya Boy | Lando Norris x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Lando Norris x Russell!Reader
Summary: After hiding your relationship with Lando for the past one year, you finally decide to make it public.
A/N: So this was a tricky one. I made it for a request and realised much later that I'd made a very much conflicted protagonist. Hope you all like it though.
Part 1 | Part 2
Masterlist
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yourusername
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tagged georgerussell63
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and 9456 others
yourusername: Australia, you have been kind🤍
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georgerussell63: ilysm sis🤍
↳yourusername: i love you too!
mercedeslover1: are you dating someone?
yourbff: good luck georgie!
You open your eyes to see Lando next to you. He's staring at your angelic face with the biggest smile you've ever seen. He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you wrap the sheets around you.
“Good morning, love.” His hand travels along your arm, giving you goosebumps.
A warmth spreads across your cheeks. You give him a soft kiss on his lips.
“Good morning, Lan,” you respond, your voice husky. “What time is it?”
“It's 5 am.”
“Why are you up so early?” You ask him, rubbing your eyes groggily.
“Because, today is race day.”
Right. You'd almost forgotten.
You boop him on the nose.
“Hey, what was that for?”
“You're a cutie patootie.”
It makes Lando laugh. You've generally noticed that his laugh is super infectious. So you start laughing as well.
“Sometimes I'm so conflicted whether to root for McLaren or for Mercedes. I want you both to win.” You say, wistfully.
Your brother, George Russell is a Formula 1 race driver. Your boyfriend of one year, Lando Norris is also a Formula 1 race driver.
However, F1 is a dangerous sport. Sometimes, you're afraid for both of them considering the kind of history this sport has. You only wish that they will be safe and sound in each race.
You met Lando through George. He was smitten the moment he met you. You took your time with your feelings until one fine day he asked you out on a date when you were in Monaco, supporting George, last year.
You've been hiding this relationship from George though because he had told you not to date a driver. Your brother has always been skeptical of drivers because of their player kind of lifestyle.
Lando and George have always been good mates so you didn't hesitate when Lando asked you out.
You've done a good job keeping this a secret so far, but there are times you'd almost got caught. Like that one time in Silverstone last year when you'd disappeared with Lando after the race in the McLaren garage. You'd come out to see a few missed calls from George and your mom.
You were grateful that there were no paps inside the garage, except for the fact that Oscar had found you both. He kept it a secret as long as you kept baking your famous brownies and gifting it to them. The only other person who knows is your mom, who has been nothing but supportive.
You chuckle.
“Wish me luck,” he kisses you on the lips and gets up.
You're mesmerised by his toned body. You keep staring at him while he gets ready.
He grins.
“Like what you see?”
“Love, I would say.” You respond back, winking at him. Lando is a cheeky boyfriend, but you also know how to be cheeky as well.
“Go, Lan. You got this.”
*****
You're standing in the Mercedes garage. The camera pans at you and you give it a smile.
George is having a really good race. It's almost the last lap and suddenly, George crashes, the impact leaving him in the middle of the track.
Your heart starts beating a little faster. You're conflicted.
On one hand, Lando is going to get the third position and on the other, George did not finish.
You stare at your mom standing next to you, your eyes brewing a storm of emotions.
The race ends.
George is safely out of the track and coming to the garage.
As George arrives, you hug him.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, worriedly.
“I am.”
But you also look at the TV to see Lando going up to the podium.
Your mom nudges you.
“Go,” she mouths.
“Y/N, where are you-”
“I need to go see Lando.”
“But-”
“Georgie,” you call him by his nickname, “I'm dating him.”
George stands there, shocked, unable to speak. You make your way through the cameras and the people and towards the podiums.
You see the McLaren mechanics, and you try to make your way through them but you can't. Surprisingly, a camera is following you.
Lando spots you on the TV. He gestures to one of the mechanics.
Everybody turns to look at you.
You make your way to the front and he's standing there, waiting for you.
You give him a kiss, and everybody starts clapping.
Lando won. The fans will be having a chaotic moment. So will George. You can deal with all of it later.
What matters right now is your brother is safe, and your boyfriend won.
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yourusername: my papaya boy🧡
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papayagirlie: finallyyyy
↳oscarbabe: I'm deaddd
carlossainz55: 🔥🔥
tifosi16: they're so cute together!!
↳landolover: agreed🥺
georgerusselling: shame on her, she should be supporting her brother
↳oscarish: it's her choice, I'm sure she loves george a lot too
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