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#why does it always happen without a conversation
10yo-anon · 2 days
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☆ DARK RED. ☆
Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader
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★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
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⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty
WC: 1,258.
A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!
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You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?
You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.
But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"
Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!
"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.
Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.
One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.
But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!
Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.
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It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?
You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.
Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.
As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!
With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.
Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.
G-S: *Video attachment.*
G-S: *Location attachment.*
G-S: im sorry, y/n.
Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.
It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.
You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.
You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.
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Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."
He opens his phone,
5 messages from "my only one.♡".
His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.
You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.
Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.
With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.
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"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.
Oh.
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A/N: 2/7 verses done! Can you find the hidden lyrics? :3 n e ways, Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!
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musashi · 5 months
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lamuradex · 4 months
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It's been rattling around my head recently that Discworld is almost anti-whimsy, and I mean that in a good way.
Whimsy, as I define it, is when something magical is put in just to wow the reader. A magic thing that doesn't really effect the story, but its fantastical. Pots cleaning themselves? Moving paintings? A fantastical creature used as set dressing? A spell that does something cool but we'll never hear about it again? What do they mean? Why are they there? Doesn't matter, we're moving on.
But Discworld always applies Logic to these things.
e.g. The old idea of all dwarfs having beards? Ha ha, even the women have beards. How silly.
But that means all dwarfs are men. But there are female dwarfs, right? Are they happy being men? What if you gave one the chance not to be a man? Oh, sure, they'd still have the beard, the helmet, the axe, those are cultural, but what if a dwarf wanted to be a woman? How would other dwarfs react? Would there be biting insults? Snide remarks? Jealousy from other female dwarfs trapped in their society? What if the Low King were a woman? What then?
Pratchett always had this tenacity to follow a whimsical idea until it was ground down in its own grim reality. It's like those old conversations about what would really happen if Superman caught you falling from a high building. You'd smash on his arms because you're still hitting something indestructible at terminal velocity. But the comics would never show that.
Pratchett shows that.
Introduces a werewolf? She has a constant identity crisis and feels like a dog sometimes, between human and wolf, and she's discriminated against in places for being undead. A conman running a bank? Forces everyone to realise how useless gold really is in a scathing indictment of economics. Death becomes Santa? But WHY DOES THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL NEED TO DIE? WHY THE UNFAIRNESS IN THE WORLD? WHY?
What can the harvest hope for, if not the care of the Reaper Man?
It's what sets these stories apart from so many others. Magic is never the solution, reality is usually the solution. And little is introduced without Pratchett delving the idea to its depths, sooner or later.
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angelltheninth · 5 months
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Genshin Men + Breeding as a Kink or Breed to Impregnate
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, breeding kink, teasing, mention of pregnancy, tail use, possessiveness, mating press, rut/heat
A/N: Wrote things like this before but I really like thinking about it.
Kaeya has a just breed kind of mentality. He may dirty talk and say he will pump you full and make you pregnant but it's just talk. Better than anyone he knows that he's not in the right place to make anyone pregnant because he wouldn't be able to be there for the kid. All the creampies he may give you never actually result in anything, he's way to careful and reminds you to take the morning after pill.
Diluc wants kids with you, really badly but he's not always serious about it. His breeding kink is obvious, he loves to see his cum inside you, he loves to push it inside you and even talk about having a family some day but only when you're both ready. When that moment happens he will fuck you until he sees your belly get round with his child, so you better make damn sure it's what you want.
Itto always breeds to impregnate you, he doesn't even need to be in his oni rut to have that urge. That deep and primal need to fill you with his seed and watch you get bigger and bigger, give birth to a healthy baby and how you'll raise it together. Whenever he can he will put you into a mating press, his balls always slapping against you at lightning speed as he roars about how he'll make you pregnant.
Childe isn't sure if he wants a kid or not but he does enjoy the sight of you when you're all fucked out of your mind and have his cum spilling from your pussy. Can say quite a few things in the moment he rarely means them, so you always have to have a conversation afterwards if you should take the pill or not. He can't help the gleeful smile on his face when the day comes that you don't take it.
Pantalone talks about it often but is always the one who pulls out, leaving no possibility of you getting pregnant. For him the dirty talk does a lot and he knows you're the same, you want all of the fun but none of the risk, which is why he loves you so much, you understand him perfectly. Besides seeing his cum on you is a much better sight if you ask for his expert opinion.
Dottore never breeds you without thinking it could take, or at least hoping. You may think it's just words but it's not. He's always rough, always leaving you shaking and twitching and unable to walk but when he sees the first signs of pregnancy he makes sure to keep his hand on your stomach at all times, protecting the life you managed to create together.
Wriothesley teases you by saying he will breed you but you're never quite sure if he will. You want it and he knows it by the way you lock your legs around him to make sure he doesn't pull out like he sometimes will. It's you who always begs him to stay inside, so of course he will, but you also know that he is a busy man, there will be time to have a family, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the creampies.
Zhongli is only serious about it when his mating season hits and the needs becomes too much to suppress. Much like his possessiveness. He wants to make sure you're marked inside and out, a mating bite on your neck, an imprint from his tail around your thigh, his seed in your pussy, his scent all over you. Will do whatever it takes to make sure you carry the pregnancy safely if it happens.
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anantaru · 6 months
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EX HUSBAND WRIOTHESLEY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! husband wriothesley headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife", a little sad, unprotected syx, hitting it raw, very rough fucking lmao, love sick & feral wriothesley, very messy too
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ex! husband wriothesley who will hesitantly accept your upsetting decision to file for divorce, and to nullify your earnest promise— nonetheless, it's evident that it was crushing him through the very inside, the pain your words caused had invited him to explore the enormity of sorrow. however, do not be fooled because he won't show it to you, meaning his pure and real emotions, instead wriothesley will decide to verbally jester around about the current happening to brighten up an otherwise daunting interaction between two past lovers.
it was to no avail, the agony festering on his facial expressions and there was nothing in his life worth remembering other than you and a concealed shade of his past— yet, the last thing he'd want to happen was to lose you entirely, signifying that if he was to put his foot down and tell you that he doesn't want the divorce to happen, it probably doesn’t mean much after all.
ex! husband wriothesley who will reminisce about past events in front of you, your first kiss or that one particular date where he asked you to marry him, just small, little details about you that only your ex husband knew of— but, he'll do it in a subtle way, sneakily sprinkling it into a conversation in hopes you'd get a dash of sudden yearning as well— the same he did whenever he casted his mind back towards the good, old days.
ex! husband wriothesley who will speak in riddles to you, keep his quick-witted demeanor in order to fool you into thinking that he was doing quite well after the divorce was fulfilled— and his intentions weren't in wanting to make you feel bad, sorrowful or even jealous. no, not at all. in fact, he thought that if he was to hide his raw emotions and genuine feelings in front of you, you wouldn't feel awful about your decision and were able to continue living a normal life, yet without him.
ex! husband wriothesley who promised you that he will take off the ring that symbolized your once passionate marriage— but will behind your back grab a necklace to loop it inside the precious metal, so he could always wear the ring around his neck, secretly hiding it from your eyes to see while holding on to it whenever he found himself in trouble, or saddened.
ex! husband wriothesley who feels helplessly confused still, harshly drawing back for air as he let a brittle thread of a nervous laughter go when you suddenly ask him if he wanted to remain friends with you, which— in truth, he didn't, and the second after you proposed that insane idea to him he thought you must be joking, or that you surely must've lost your mind (which would make the divorce explainable).
it goes without saying that the real reason as to why the duke didn't seek out to befriend you, had nothing to do with the feelings he harbors towards you suddenly dissolving, it's quite the opposite because he was so helplessly in love with you, archons, he was bloody obsessed with you.
certainly, he thought that such friendship between two past lovers would only cause injury to you both in the end, for the main part to you who he cared the utmost about.
aside from the fact that even now, when he notices how you steadily keep your distance from him, at all times, it breaks him from within.
how cold it was when all ex! husband wriothesley sought after was your gentle caress and delicate kisses, he longed for an opportunity to just swiftly hush you with one step, raw and earnest trapping you against his strong arms while pressing his lips on top of yours when— oh, he does it again, he was indulging in fantasy, gradually yielding to an alternative version of you two ending up together.
in the duke's own words, he believed that love should be warm, a sweet addiction, a magic gifted by the universe, so why— just what had went so terribly wrong that he was struggling to understand it? you should just say you do not care for him, tell him you feel nothing so he can walk away, or maybe, regardless he will stay.
ex! husband wriothesley who despite you both being apart now, remains faithful to you, protective and nurturing to your every needs— because it was simple as that— for the duke, you are his shining sun, and will still remain it to his dying day.
to his crushed and painful body, your caressing trace was his only medication, and your smile? it was the light to his broken heart, for that is what he had called a warm love.
ex! husband wriothesley who noticed how the natural warmth surrounding his body had but faded completely as his mind began to gather around great negativities— perhaps he was flawed and that's the reason you left him all along, cursed to feel the deep sadness slither through his veins like a freezing liquid conquering his body as he shuts himself off for a while, until he can recollect himself again that is.
ex! husband wriothesley who had inappropriate thoughts enter his mind whenever he thought about you— here is to note that he utterly disliked the way his brain just so happened to work and how he wasn't able to shake off those strong and vivid fantasies playing in his mind on repeat.
but how can he not dream about his wife? well, ex-wife, which in his memories was pressed under his large figure exposed with your breasts on full display, his hips working constantly to please you just the way he knew you liked it.
because you see, the duke knew your body, in and out, one might even assume he knows it better than you do. and he still has a couple of your panties left in his drawer— in fact, he wanted to return them, please believe him, but he found himself to be quite busy these past weeks that he must've simple forgotten to do so.
ex! husband wriothesley who at some point, cannot live like this anymore and was desperate to see you again. after your marriage had crushed, you weren't visiting the fortress of meropide anymore and as the duke was rarely leaving it himself, it could've been the perfect situation to move on from each other, yet he simply could not do that, not when you were constantly on his mind.
ex! husband wriothesley who will find courage and leave the fortress to visit you at your new place, in fact, the mere sight of the duke exiting the underworld was rarely seen, so the guards figured that it must be of graven importance— as invisible and weightless as your love for him might be for now, in the middle of the night he walks out to find you, taking in a last view at the fortress  before an itching impatience got the better of him. 
he just had to see you, now.
ex! husband wriothesley who will show up at your doorstep and suddenly admit that he cannot do this anymore, that he felt incredibly miserable and heartbroken, confessing his undying love and affection towards you, using words he had once spelled out to you the night you had gotten married.
"night and day, i dream of you," wriothesley yells, as if there had been nothing left to his choice, the sight of your glowering eyes and those soft, frowning lips he just misses to kiss.
"and there is not one corner on this world that you could possibly travel to in order to free me from this torture," he adds forbiddingly.
through dark eyelashes, wriothesley stares at sudden tears welling up in your glassy eyes, a sharp amenity invading your cheeks as he places his palms on top of them in order to brush your warm tears away. "you're mine," he said, the corners of his mouth slightly quirking upwards, his hot breathing lingering around your gasping lips, "and not even a divorce can change that."
ex! husband wriothesley who places a delicate splatter of warm and passionate kisses on top of your lips the moment you pull him by the collar of his shirt, his surprised growl turning into a stifled cry when you wrap your arms around his neck in order to keep him close to you, together stumbling into the coziness of your home as one hand was firmly placed against your back, his mouth eagerly parting as your lips welcome the teasing slide of his tongue lapping across your own.
ex! husband wriothesley who will hiss upon revelling in your soft fingers tracing over his twitching muscles when you undress each other, his disheveled hair accentuated with a fond smile as his hands trail down the sides of your face, leaning his hungry lips against yours again, the lingering, familiar scent of your fragrance penetrating his nostrils turning him needier, on the brink of passing out.
ex! husband wriothesley who loves hearing you only reply in soft and crumbled whimpers of his name slipping past the edges of your tongue as he cannot wait to feel you— fuck, and neither can you wait to feel him again, a clashing pressure on your hot core narrowing the space between your bodies as he lines himself up with you, your nails slithering down his chiseled back as he slides into you abruptly, your neglected cunt instantly welcoming him.
and you squeal out in pleasure as he thrusts into you, the maddening scent of his musky perfume persisting around your shivering frame as wriothesley hooks one leg over his shoulder, the squelching sounds of your wet sex echoing throughout the entire bedroom just signalizing how much you must've missed him as well, his addicting gaze always flickering across the way your body reacted to him.
ex! husband wriothesley who shoves himself further into your soft cunt— and you're just so unbelievably cute and adorable at your desperate attempts to silence those candid whines and mewls of his name. one of his hands was now placed on the headboard for additional support as to not suddenly suffocate you with his large body towering above before he increases the pace on your cunt, setting for a deep and fast rhythm that would surely stay engraved in your walls even after he's done.
ex! husband wriothesley who kisses you like a starved animal as your tears tickle the soft features on his face, your hidden emotions running wild at the sheer passion he unlocked in you, his erection throbbing harder as he groans into your lips, triggering every last one of your nerves in your body and infusing them with persisting vibrations— now, you're gasping at the lack of oxygen in your lungs as his constant thrusts into you drove you deeper into the mattress, if that was even possible, considering the fact that your whole body had been caged in between your bed and wriothesley's frame towering on top.
ex! husband wriothesley who chokes back a desperate growl as he sought out further friction, growing feral, then hissing sharply as his sensitive cockhead reaches into your deepest parts, his shaft all the way sucked in by your used pussy lubricating him so he can ram himself in and out of you harder, slick pooling out of your hole whenever he pulls out only to press back inside with one quick snap.
ex! husband wriothesley who worships your body, making you feel every thick vein as it throbs violently against your walls, your thudding hole making him lose his mind on how you're convulsing while he curls into you— your swollen cunt tensing and releasing, grinding up a little as thick, white cum gathers at the base of his cock, his mesmerizing eyes glued on the creamy spot that was showing him just how much you enjoyed this too.
ex! husband wriothesley who resumes his fast tempo, your teeth rattling with every new impact of his hips bouncing against your flesh blanking your mind into pure paradise— your moving bodies couldn't stop anymore as you're fucking each other well over the limits of your endurance, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth as wriothesley was fucking your cunt desperately, unhinged and making it a point to rock your hips in and out along a particular angle that you'd always squeeze over the rigid veins prancing on the underside of his shaft.
ex! husband wriothesley who exhales heavily when you tell him that you're close, his hips pressing and digging into your sensitivity once more before lifting you off the mattress, chasing your relief like a wild beast that he so graciously wanted to see unfold— low profanities and fast tumbles of his name falling from your lips as your thighs begin to shake and ache, your throat turning dry— you're done for, and wriothesley just fits so perfectly in you, into every curve, every spongy spot and every bump inside that you're so painfully full, crowded and overflowing of his thick shaft.
you're hiccuping due to the pressure he presses into your sensitivity as you're way beyond your own limits now, at last feeling a twitch and quake as your body pleads to cum, his grueling thrusts aiding you when you violently convulse around his length, a sharp intake of breath breaking every other noise in the room when you cum all over his cock, your orgasm hitting you hard, wriothesley continuing with slow, language thrusts until you've rode out your high.
the duke was being eager to watch it all happen, something primal at the back of his mind manifestikg when the sudden constriction of your fluttering hole made him grunt lowly against your ear, rolling his hips nearly painfully hard between your legs before dragging himself away, cumming inside of your walls and marking you up for good with his warm, sticky cum.
ex! husband wriothesley who watched you being short of breath, and couldn’t resist looking at the mess between your legs, your abused cunt twitching around his girth as your pussy flutters around nothing, your legs were quivering with a combination of your essence and his seed oozing out of your hole, staining the silky bedsheets.
ex! husband wriothesley who'll press himself back into you with one sharp snap, leaving his cock in so you could clench and throb, small thrusts turning sloppy and sticky with his dampened bangs glued on his forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose before embracing your pouty lips again, your mouth partly open as you whine out, your sensitivity spiraling of his cock still being nestled in you, his shaft already hard and thick again, your battered cunt jolting underneath him.
wriothesley smiles, "it is maddening, how much you consume my very being, my love." and speaks through his heart.
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© 2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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more than seven minutes — one-shot
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk
author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.
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"Where are you taking me?"
"Don't you trust us?"
From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."
It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.
They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it. 
You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.
Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.
You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"
"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"
You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.
Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.
He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"
Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."
When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"
"I'm not acting weird…"
"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."
You weren't avoiding Steve.
At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.
After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.
The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.
Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.
There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space. 
"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."
Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."
With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.
"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."
"A what?"
"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"
"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.
"What was your dream like?"
He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.
It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.
"Steve…"
"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."
Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I  was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"
"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking." 
You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."
Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah." You breathed out.
One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.
"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"
It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"
"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."
Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"
Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.
"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?" 
"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"
"Shut up."
Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.
"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."
His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.
"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.
"Consider it payback, baby."
They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"
"Yeah. Please."
Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.
Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.
A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements. 
"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."
Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.
"Louder. Let me hear you."
"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."
At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.
He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.
"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.
After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.
Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.
Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.
Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.
Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.
"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"
"Go away, Buckley! Jesus." 
Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"
"Yeah. Your point being…"
"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."
Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."
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getosbigballsack · 1 month
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Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
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malleleothreesome · 6 months
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Malleus who is pining after you...
🩷 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Malleus would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 🩷 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts, lots of romance, fluff, pining, and there is a single smut paragraph with masturbation as he reads a romance novel in the library ༶༶༶ 🩷 word count: 3.1k because he's the love of my life
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🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… confused, and left with no other option but to approach (a proud, hysterically laughing) Lilia, begging for an explanation as to why he feels so weak in your presence. Pouting as he awkwardly opens up to the old bat about how when he’s with you, his heart races and he stumbles over his words, even though he’s used to being so sure of himself. He trained diligently to be calm and collected as a future King should be, so why is it that a magicless human is able to bring him to his knees seemingly without even trying? How come none of his previous favorite activities feel as good as daydreaming about you or spending time with you?
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… now feeling more assured after his conversation with Lilia. Coming to terms with the fact that even someone like him can feel love, and it happened sooner than he ever anticipated. Still nervous and unsure of his feelings, but no longer afraid. He feels grateful that he could be gifted with such potent and beautiful emotions for the first time in his life, and he’s especially happy that he fell in love with someone as amazing as you. Now that he’s in love, he wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world.
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… mind in a constant state of disarray after being swept up in your hurricane. Battling against himself ceaselessly to stay focused on the task at hand as his thoughts desperately crawl their way back to you in spite of his better judgment. No matter what he’s doing, he can’t help but fantasize about what it would be like if you were there with him. As his pen taps against the paper on his table, his breathing quickens, unable to stop himself from wondering what it would be like to look over at you studying right alongside him, instantly enchanting the monotonous task with your bright presence. If he’s in a store, he always spends extra time looking around for objects you might like, smiling to himself as he imagines your reaction. If he’s in a conversation, he thinks about how you might interject, and how the conversation would be better thanks to your input. When he’s happy, he wants you to be the first one to know, hoping he could share in his excitement alongside you.
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… coming to terms with the highs and lows of loving someone who doesn’t know you love them. Pacing around his room, celebrating and replaying all the moments he made you smile. Hyping himself up whenever you ask him to spend time alone. He also chastises himself whenever you two share an awkward moment, or if he makes a joke that doesn’t land, letting the moment haunt him. Wishing he had done things differently, reassessing the situation and himself so that he could grow into someone worthy of you. The most dreadful moments are times he sees you having fun without him, getting dragged along by your other friends. Jealousy and despair rage through his veins as he works to convince himself not to feel angry toward you, reassuring himself that you don’t know any better – it was an honest mistake. You simply don’t realize how much it means to him to be in your presence, because he’s too afraid to let you know. He’s too afraid to gamble your love, only wanting to confess when he’s sure you have the highest chance of accepting him. He’s not willing to go back to a life without the love he feels for you. Tears well up in his eyes as he retires early to his bed, desperately wishing you would hold him in your arms and take the pain away. Longing to hear that you love him, too – that he doesn’t have to feel this way anymore. Closing his eyes and letting the tears fall like silent prayers, hoping with every fiber of his being that you won’t curse him to a lifetime without your precious affection. 
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… randomly showing up at Ramshackle dorm. He’ll use any excuse in the book to show up unexpectedly, at the very least, hoping to see your face, but also betting on the fact that you’ll invite him in. He’ll ask to borrow items a fae wouldn’t need. He’ll steal things from your backpack just so he can return them. He hopes he can catch you alone, so that maybe he can get closer to you, or at least learn something new. There are also times where doesn’t want to bother you, but feels too weak-willed to deny his overwhelming desire to bask in your presence. He stands outside, taking solace in being close to you, even if you don’t realize it. Letting a comfortable sense of calm come over him as he stands outside under the moonlight, feeling the breeze through his hair, content to know that you’re upstairs sleeping peacefully in your room. Taking care to protect your building just like a gargoyle would. He’s convinced himself that Diasomnia is simply too far away from where you are, and what if something happened to his beloved child of man and he wasn’t there to protect you? Such a thing would torment him as long as he lived. So, he stands guard outside your room, just in case you need anything. He can at least do that much. He feels honored to be your protector, even though you’re completely unaware.
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… sitting beside you on a bench outside. His whole being overcome with butterflies, heart pounding out of his chest, feeling lightheaded as your hand slaps his thigh – your head thrown back in laughter from what he just said. He’s completely captivated as your melodic laugh reverberates through his soul. Unable to stop glancing at the way your thigh presses against his, feeling the electricity as your shoulders brush. Trying to memorize the way you look and sound in this very moment. He feels the air leave his lungs as your eyes meet his. Feeling like time has stopped as he stares into your eyes, trying to commit their beauty to memory. He feels his cheeks flush as he quickly turns away, not wanting you to see how flustered he is. You grab his shoulder, laughing, pulling him back toward you as you ask him to tell another story. He grins, trying to remember what it was like to breathe normally, and he obliges your request. A moment has never felt so magical, and he swears he'll remember the feeling until his last breath.
🩷 Malleus who is pining after you… spending hours in the library after class reading romance novels as a form of research for how he can make the best possible impression on you. He originally read these books out of necessity, desperately trying to avoid going to Lilia for more intimate advice. However, he finds far more enjoyment in the books than he anticipated, getting giddy over the words on the page as he imagines the story unfolding with the two of you as the protagonists. His eyes widen and his body temperature flushes hot when the tale takes an explicit turn, finding it harder and harder to keep his composure as he reads further. Feeling his throat go dry at the thought of doing such things with you, he tries to calm himself down, fanning his face with the book. He imagines the way your lips would taste and the softness of your skin, how you might sound moaning his name, how it would feel to be inside of you. He can hardly stand the tension as he reaches down and palms his lonely cock through his pants, letting a desperate moan escape from his lips as he struggles to hold himself back. He quickly looks around to make sure no one is there, then returns his attention to the book. He almost feels guilty for imagining his innocent beloved in such a naughty way. He wants nothing more than to be respectful to you, so it seems wrong to undress you and pleasure you in his mind, yet his needy, aching cock convinces him otherwise. He closes his eyes and continues to massage himself through his clothes as he lets the scene unfold in his mind. He imagines how you would look beneath him, panting and writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you. He wonders if you would like it if he were to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer as you ride him, or if you would prefer if he were to pin your arms above your head while he fucked you into the mattress. His breathing quickens as his fantasy intensifies, feeling his body tighten up as he nears his climax. The pleasure is so intense, he feels unable to stop himself from going over the edge despite the uncomfortable circumstances. He lets out a quiet groan as his hips involuntarily thrust into his hand, feeling himself release into his pants. As he comes back to reality, his face burns red in embarrassment at the fact that he just did that in the library, but also with the realization that he wants to do all of that and more with you.
🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… sitting down with Sebek’s parents to interview them about their human/fae relationship. He wants to feel completely prepared and educated about all the pros and cons. He desperately wants to have the best chance of winning your affection. He asks them what it was like when they first met, how they handled the differences in their species, and how they confessed their love. He wants to know everything. He listens intently to every word, taking detailed notes and asking questions when he doesn’t understand. He asks about the most challenging parts of their relationship, and how they overcame them. He asks how they knew their love was true, and how they know it still is. He wants to feel as confident as possible that he can make this relationship work, because he knows it will be his last. If he loses you, he would never be able to love another, so he needs to take all the steps possible to ensure a life by your side. He desperately wishes his own parents could have been alive to walk him through it, but in their absence, he is grateful to have the first couple of their kind as a support network. He thanks them profusely, even going as far as to hug them and offer gifts, insisting on returning their time and effort tenfold for the advice and kindness they gave him. Sebek's doting mother cries a little, telling him that he has grown into a fine young man, and that he deserves to find happiness. The fae Prince flushes in embarrassment, offering her a heartfelt thanks and bowing his head respectfully. As Sebek's parents see him out, they tell him that if he ever needs anything, they're there for him, and to not hesitate to contact them if he has any questions. They can't help but smile to themselves as they watch the normally confident Malleus walk away, his shoulders and head drooped down in nervousness as he contemplates his future. They hope that you and him will find eternal bliss in each other's embrace.
🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… walking around Briar Valley, getting to know his future subjects. He wants to know how his fae subjects feel about the presence of humans, how they might feel if there were to be a human ruler alongside him, and if they would be willing to accept a human/fae child as their next heir. He will do what it takes to prepare his subjects for the new age, trying to get ahead of any problems before they arise. He is especially curious about the older generations, and what they might think of him as a leader. He doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and he wants to honor his parents' legacy by creating a safe, secure future for their kind. He wants to bring about a world where humans and fae can coexist, where children of both species can grow up with mutual respect. He goes out of his way to form relationships with the humans who reside in Briar Valley, diligently learning how best he can serve them as the future King. His purpose is to make his kingdom a safe haven for humans to live in hopeful anticipation that you'll one day soon choose to live there with him. He listens to his human subjects' concerns, offering advice on their difficulties, and promising to enact new legislation that would benefit them. He makes it abundantly clear that he values the human residents of his kingdom and is committed to ensuring that their lives are better than they were before. He tells them that their children will not only be able to live in harmony with the fae, but that they will thrive. He wants to give them a world that you would be proud to call home. He is eager to show you that he can be a great King, and that he is worthy of your love and affection. He feels a sense of pride when he sees the humans' faces light up as he shares his plans for the Kingdom once he takes the crown.
🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… appearing before his grandmother Maleficia’s throne, secure and ready to finally confess to you. Unwilling to let anything else stand in his way, he begins telling her – not asking her – with the utmost respect and authority, leaving no room for discussion that he has fallen hopelessly in love with a human. He needs her to trust him – her only grandson – as he gives his heart and devotion to a member of the very species that took everything from her. His hands are shaking yet his eyes never falter, his determination to love you against all odds burning bright in his heart. He has made up his mind and he won't be taking any objections. He tells her about you, your kindness, your charisma, and your integrity. He wants her to know how lucky he is that a pure-hearted being like you would have chosen someone like him to befriend, to place your faith and trust in. He eagerly explains all the ways you've changed him for the better, and how he wants to devote his life to protecting you, and growing by your side. There has never been another that can light up the night sky with the same level of brightness as your beautiful smile, or whose laugh could fill the vast empty space between the stars. He tells her he wants to give you the best life he can possibly provide, and he hopes she will come to accept and love you just as he has. She sits in shock, unable to respond. The anger she feels is indescribable, as she can't believe her grandson, her own flesh and blood, could betray her and his mother like this. She thought she raised him better than this – to be stronger than the temptation of a human. And now, he stands before her, looking her dead in the eye and telling her he wants to be with one of them. She can't bear the thought of losing him, yet she knows it's inevitable if she were to deny him his wish. The look in his eyes is something she has never seen in him before – pure conviction. She can’t control him any more. His love for you has given him a strength she never knew he had. As much as she hates to admit it, he is happier than she's ever seen him. The confidence in his voice, the glimmer in his eye, the determination in his step – it reminds her of her daughter. Malleus always bore a striking resemblance to his mother, but he has never looked more like her than he does right now, defying Maleficia's wishes in pursuit of happiness. She knows she can't change his mind, so she sighs and waves her hand dismissively, telling him he can do as he pleases. The anger in her veins dissipates as Malleus begins to walk out of the throne room, and she feels compelled to tell him how proud his mother would be, despite it all. She tells him that his mother hated humans, but she loved him more. Malleus can't help the tears that escape his eyes, thanking his grandmother for her blessing, feeling accomplished and complete. Now all that's left is to tell you.
🩷 Malleus who is pining over you… breathes new life into the cold castle, ready to fill the halls back up with love for the first time in centuries. Gazing up at the blank castle walls, smiling to himself as he imagines them adorned with picture frames of the two of you on your wedding day, or of you holding your child together for the first time, or even just simple, happy memories like picnics or holidays. He feels warmth in his chest as he pictures the two of you standing by the window, admiring the sunset and reminiscing on all the years you've spent together. For the first time in his life, he comes to see the castle not as a prison, but as a home. A place where the two of you will live out the rest of your days, raising children, and creating beautiful memories that will be cherished forever. Every room he passes elicits a lovely new vision. He steps into the study, one of his favorite places as a child, running his fingers along the ancient bookshelves, excited at the prospect of rereading old favorites with your head nestled under his arm, the two of you snuggled up on the cozy couch. He peeks his head into the ballroom and music begins playing in his head as he imagines holding you close, feet gliding as you two spin around the room, the candles surrounding the area casting a perfect glow on your blissful smiles, as you lose yourself in each other's eyes. In the dining room, he envisions the two of you sitting across from each other at the grand dining table, flashing flirty eyes in each other's directions, stealing the last bite from each other's forks with kisses and laughs. As he wanders aimlessly through the long, winding hallways, the past merges with his vision of the future, and the two mix perfectly. It's difficult to feel alone anymore. It's no longer the chilled, looming emptiness that Malleus knew before. Now, it's a sacred, protected place that is waiting for your life, and love, to be poured into the rooms until it's finally brimming with the warmth and laughter of family again. All you have to do is say yes.
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Oop, I just spent the past 8 hours straight working on this start to finish. Idk if I'm proud of it. I am exhausted. Usually I write complete stories, but I wanted to try my hand at writing my thoughts in a more raw format. If my editor were here, she would never allow me to write paragraphs this long, but I don't feel like waiting for her to edit. It's 2 am and I just want to free myself and release this into the world. Hopefully I don't regret this in the morning. Sorry for any grammar mistakes or weirdly long sentences. If you enjoyed, first of all, thank you! Second of all, if you want more content like this, please let me know! Currently, I only write for Malleus, Leona, & Fellow but feel free to come convince me in my ask box to get invested in other characters. I’d love to hear your thoughts about your faves or my faves. 🩷 Erica Malleleothreesome
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teeramoonlover · 6 months
Text
Knock, Knock
Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher
(NSFW)
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This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.
Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.
*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice
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“Hello?”
“Hello.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.
“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.
“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.
The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.
“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”
You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.
“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.
“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.
“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”
“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  
“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”
“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.
The stranger hummed.
Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?
“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”
“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 
He chuckled darkly.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.
The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”
“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.
“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”
You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.
Shit. Wrong move.
You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.
“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”
“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”
You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.
“Knock. Knock.”
You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.
“Who’s there?”
You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  
Double. Shit.
“Johnny.” 
You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 
“Johnny where?”
“Clever girl. Guess.”
You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.
“The backyard.”
“Wrong.”
You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 
He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.
“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”
“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you…to ride me.”
You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 
“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.
“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.
Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.
“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 
“Behind you.”
You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.
His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 
He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.
“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”
Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 
There’s two of them?!
You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 
The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.
You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 
A warning.
“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.
“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.
“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.
“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 
“So what? You gonna kill me?” 
“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.
You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    
Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.
"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 
Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.
"What do you mean?" You shuddered.
In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.
"You know what I meant."
Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?
You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.
You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 
“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 
You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.
“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.
“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.
“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.
“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.
Without thinking, you nodded at his words.
Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 
"Lift your hips for me, baby." 
He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 
He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.
A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.
"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.
"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.
You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.
As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.
Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.
"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 
You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.
You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.
He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.
"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.
"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 
He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.
You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.
"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 
You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.
You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.
"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.
"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.
"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."
The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 
"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"
"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."
"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"
"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 
They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.
You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 
Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.
"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.
"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.
Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.
The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.
You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.
"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.
"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.
As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.
"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.
"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 
"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 
As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.
"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.
"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."
You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 
This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.
Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 
You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 
He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.
His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.
You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.
The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.
“That’s my good girl.”
After you pass out…
“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.
“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.
“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.
Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.
And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at
OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-
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Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism
Description: 👆⬆️
The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like
But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords
Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion
The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in
ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED
He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live
But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation
Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence
Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious
Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???
He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously
The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways
Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you
Y'all are just trashing this man at this point
It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo
But nobody is safe
It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing
But it gives you three an excuse to hang out
Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons
And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall
Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it
Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it
Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU
So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel
Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔
You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you
WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD
Who else would it have been, Vaggie???
Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel
Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises
Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends
They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening
It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met
"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"
"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"
You two are fucking deranged
You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now
And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul
Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor
But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together
But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap
He's never steered you wrong before
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This was so fun to write!!
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helluvapoison · 3 months
Text
Make Me Weak
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you
• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more
• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead
• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“But I didn’t do anything?”
“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”
Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head
“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”
Your light laugh makes her smile again
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world
• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray
• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body
• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”
A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you
“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”
“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?
• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up
• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer
• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.
“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”
Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”
“Exactly why I need you there.”
“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”
A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.
“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.
He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another
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ew-selfish-art · 10 months
Text
Dp x Dc AU: Damian and Ellie become friends, and for all his research into her ‘Guardian’ older siblings, he can’t seem to understand why they’re asking after his own homelife. 
Ellie was an annoyance to him from the moment they met, and this unfortunately meant that her and Jon got along like a house on fire. She’d transferred to Gotham Academy in the middle of the year and clearly had no idea what a private school was like politically- She walked right up to him and declared them friends. He’d retorted something about preferring to be enemies, she immediately had a shark like grin and after school they had their first spat- which Jon immediately flew into town for upon hearing Damian’s typically fight related biometrics (which, yes, he always listened for). 
Immediately upon Jon pulling them apart, Ellie asked again if they could be friends and Damian accepted. Jon is bewildered but hey! New Pal! And she can throw down! How Neat! (plus she didn’t ask how Jon appeared so quickly-he wasn’t caught flying because of their fight- success! Identity kept secret!) 
Ellie eventually invites them over to her place since she lives closest to the school, and the apartment is meager if not incredibly well kept. Jazz is the one home at this time, makes them all some apple slices and ensures that they did their homework. Jon declares that Lois would love her. Jazz asks if Damian is safe at home, and she has a weird green color to her eyes for just a second when she asks, but Damian assures her that the Wayne family is merely a rambunctious one with too many children. 
The next time they come by her older brother Danny is the one who is home, and he looks absolutely exhausted as he mixes instant coffee granules into his energy drink. Damian learns that he’s an engineer at WE and working night shifts- apparently Danny was home the last time they visited but was asleep. Danny also kind of looks at Damian funny for a second, and asks if he’s safe at home, Ellie protests that they can’t keep asking him and Damian defends his family once more. 
Damian goes home after one of their visits and at the family dinner table if there is anything about him that reads as ‘abused child’ since he keeps getting this treatment by the Nightengale siblings. Tim doesn’t add anything towards Damian’s predicament but does explain that Danny Nightengale is off limits from the rest of the family- He’s not to be adopted and he’s not to be researched, this dude is his main engineer on a Bat project and Tim’s personal project to crack. 
Jason, who happened to attend because it was Alfred’s Eggplant Parmesan night, voices that his new therapist is also a Nightengale. She’s great (the whole family has noticed) but he’s also contemplating dropping her as a therapist for... reasons. (The whole family understands that he’s in love with her and theres a betting pool around it.) 
Bringing the conversation back to the start, Bruce suggests that Damian invite them over for dinner so that they can see he has a stable homelife. Tim and Jason protest but it gets ignored. Damian asks Ellie at school and she happily accepts with “Great! I can’t wait to haunt your house!” 
The Nightengales arrive, and fit right in. The evening goes off without out any major issues or bumps in the road- although the entire family + Danny are all keen on Jason pursuing Jazz (who keeps refusing to comment despite blushing every other word he says to her). Ellie is adored by the whole family, though Damian does his best to threaten them away. Danny is incredibly loose lipped about the project he’s working on to Tim’s horror but Danny just kind of winks and says “this feels like a room of people that can keep a secret.” (Danny doesn’t know they’re bats, he just assumes this cause they’re all family and so nice.)
Eventually at the end of the night Bruce asks why they keep asking after Damian’s homelife and safety- what makes them so concerned? Danny just spills the beans: 
“I’ve met a lot of undead in my day, but Damian was brought back to life in a way I’m still trying to understand. Like Jason? Easy peasy, got dipped in the green stuff. Damian? So Strange. Plus like the kid is like 15, it took me until 14 to die the first time but I had a portal to another dimension under my house and he lives in a mansion.” 
Chaos. 
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riki-dazed · 2 months
Text
Jay feels it's time to give you and your boyfriend, Riki, the talk.. with the (not so helpful) help of his other fellow hyungs
suggestive, crack, some swearing ♡ wc: 822 · requested
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You and Riki exchange confused looks, he's trying to communicate with you through his eyebrows but you sit there shrugging at him in reply.. You're both just as clueless as one another.
"What's going on..?" You finally decide to speak up cautiously, "Did something happen?"
Jay and Heeseung glance at one another, crickets.
Jake's gaze is set on the ceiling and Sunghoon's next to him, looking over at Jay on the other end.
The four boys are sat lined up on a bunk bed opposite to the one you and Riki are currently sat on.
Jay had pulled you and your boyfriend into one of the dorm rooms without warning, privately, although you were sat there wondering what was private about having Heeseung, Jake and Sunghoon there too.
"Nothing bad," Jay finally speaks, "I- We just needed to talk to you about something,"
Riki sighs, "Then talk..?"
It's now Heeseung's turn to speak up, "Last night we heard some.."
He gulps obnoxiously loudly,
"..Some noises, coming from your room and we just wanted to make sure the two of you are being safe,"
You can't help but try to stiffle a chuckle, knowing exactly what they were reffering to. You look over at your boyfriend, he's hiding his face behind his hands.
"I told you to turn the volume down," Riki groans, he's irritated and embarrassed. You can't help but to continue chuckling away.
"She was showing me stupid tiktoks,"
Jake laughs at the situation, knowing he was the one who originally sent you those tiktoks. He apologises swiftly when Jay gives him a look.
"Ok, well- still, you're at that age now where we should talk ab-" Jay tries to continue but is cut off by a distressed Riki,
"Why are they here," He motions towards a smiling Jake and a dead silent Sunghoon, "You may as well have invited the other two since you summoned a council meeting to talk about my sex life,"
You almost snort.
"Babe, this isn't funny,"
"Their intentions are good.." Your voice trails off quietly,
"Why are we here?" Jake suddenly pipes up, his question being mainly directed towards Sunghoon,
"I don't know," The boy next to him shrugs, "I just wanted to listen in,"
"Can we please focus for a second," Jay's borderline irritated voice is heard, "So as I was saying-"
"Wait but Riki told me they already had sex..?"
Your eyes widen at Jake's comment, Sunghoon gasps quietly. You feel your cheeks starting to warm. Riki's gaze is now set on you, he's wondering if you're going to get upset at him for sharing everything with Jake. You didn't care.
Jay's eyes close with a sigh, "Can you two get out,"
"But I didn't say anything," Sunghoon's tone is defensive, yet it only takes one look from Jay for the two boys to quickly hurry out of the dorm room.
"Is it true..? Look, we just want to help," Heeseung speaks softly, you wonder if your cheeks look as bright red as they currently feel.
"It's normal to want to explore at your age," Jay adds, the boy beside him nods in agreement.
You play with your fingers that lay in your lap, Riki coughs beside you. He's running his hands through his hair, the poor boy does not want to be there right now. What seemed like a funny situation a few moments ago has turned into somewhat of a bit more serious conversation now.
"You can always come to us with questions, you know that, right?"
"Thank you, hyung, but are we done here..?" Riki groans,
After a few more minutes of Jay and Heeseung explaining the importance of using protection, Riki successfully manages to push the older boys through the door and out of the dorm room, leaving you a giggling mess on the bed.
"Thank fuck that's over," Your boyfriend sighs as he closes the door, leaning against it when it shuts.
His eyes settle back on you, you motion for him to join you back on the bed. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as the tall boy follows your order, you're still smiling.
"You know, Jay had a good point. It's normal for us to want to explore..."
"Mhm," Riki tackles you softly backwards onto the mattress, "What are you implying?"
Your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair as he attacks your neck with soft bites, and kisses. You can't help but giggle at the tickling sensation.
"Hmh.. Should we continue exploring?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. Riki's hand finds its way under your shirt, smoothing the warm skin above your hips.
"Ni-kiiiiiiiii, are you still in there!?" Jake's excited voice is heard before he leaves a series of loud knocks on the wooden door, "Unlock the door~"
You errupt into quiet laughter as Riki's head falls into the crook of your neck with a muttered 'what the fuck...'
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andersonlore · 5 months
Note
Abby and reader getting into an argument where they both know r is right but Abby is just being so goddamn stubborn ohmygod. So r just ups and flashes Abby with their tits to shut her up. Abby stutters and slowly loses her resolve until she finally shortcircuits
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❛ THE PRETTY GIRL BEHIND THE BAR. ❜
†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, dom!reader, sub!abby, poc!friendly, jealous!abby, soft nsfw, stubborn!abby.
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Abby never should have been flirting with the bartender. She knows it just as well as you do. You had every right to be upset. Abby was your girl, not anyone else's, and she just let it happen. Right in front of you.
It made you sick and God, her dismal of it was even more infuriating. Her stubbornness shining through as you tried to make her see where you were coming from, but it seemed the attention was going right to her head.
"So, what if she was flirting? Why does it matter?" Abby was trying to worm her way out, but you wouldn't let her. Not this time.
"It's one thing to entertain it Abby but c'mon, look with your eyes. You let her feel you up right in front of me. Do you seriously not see how disrespectful that is?”
"She was not all over me and she did not feel me up." Abby defended.
"Really? You're going to play dumb right now? That's the side you want to take. You've got to be kidding me." Clearly, you were frustrated but your words only angered Abby.
"You're calling me dumb right now? For the love of god, she didn't touch me."
"Maybe you didn't notice because you were too caught up in the pretty girl behind the bar but anyone with eyes could see she was all over you." You walked away from her as the two of you walked into your shared apartment as Abby slammed the door behind her.
"She kept touching your arm and you did nothing. She tugged at the end of your braid; you did nothing. Anderson, she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and you just let her! It was like I was fucking invisible." You were beyond pissed and the smirk on her lips wasn't helping.
Abby was too damn confident for her own good, always putting her foot in her mouth before she even spoke.
"Anderson? Wow. You're really angry, baby." She took a step closer, but you took two steps back.
"Don't 'baby' me. Are you being serious right now?"
You couldn’t believe her. She had the nerve to stand there, beautiful as can be, with a smile you would kill for but right now? You wanted nothing more than to deck her in the face. Abby always did this, and it pissed you off to no fucking end. Abby always had to let you know how wanted she is and how lucky you were to have her. It truly was nauseating.
“Just admit it, Anderson. She fucking touched you and you let her.” You threw it back at her, tired of this back and forth.
“If you call me Anderson one more time, I swear to god.”
“You’ll what? Flirt with someone else in front of me?” You stepped forward, cocking your head to the side. “I have to say, the more you do it, it might just lose it’s impact.”
“Are you sure? You’re pretty wound up right now, baby. Just can’t stand when my attention is elsewhere, can you?” 
You wanted to scream at her, but you couldn’t. Even if the chances of those baby blues welling up into tears were slim, you couldn’t let your anger get the best of you. All of this was intentional. Her pressing, her flirting, her acting like she oblivious to it. Abby wanted a reaction out of you. Boy, was she getting one. Still, you didn’t want to do anything to upset her, even if it seemed she was trying to do the opposite for you.
If she wanted to play with fire, so be it. You’d just have to cool her off enough so you could have a conversation about this without her cocky persona jumping in at any given moment.
The smirk dropped from her Abby’s face as soon as her brain registered what you were doing. Carefully, nimble fingers were unbuttoning the vest top you had on. You’d worn it just for her too. Abby loves the way it makes your breasts look, cleavage busting at the top. It usually would make her insatiable, but no. Tonight, she decided to keep her attention elsewhere.
You would make her pay for it.
“What are you doing?” Her breath hitches, and you try to smirk but you’re failing just as she was before.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“W-We’re fighting now, right?” Abby was so unsure of herself. Part of her believed she was imagining this. You slowly taking off your top, and God you weren’t wearing a bra either.
You really were trying to kill her, Abby thought.
“Yep, you’re really pissing me off, Anderson.”
“T-them, uh, why- oh fuck.” Abby tried to speak but it trailed off to a curse as you tossed your top onto the back of couch and made your way right to her.
“Why don’t you tell me exactly why your attention was elsewhere?” Your perky tits on display for her was torture, because she knew if she tried to touch you, her hand would be smacked immediately.
“C’mon, don’t be shy Anderson. Tell how much of a crazy fucking girlfriend I am. Go on. Fucking speak.” You demanded from her, but the blonde still found herself tripping over her words, unable to complete one sentence.
“I-I, um, y-y-you know, fuck, what do you want me to say baby? Please, I’ll do anything. Jus’ want to make it up to you.” Her eyes maintain eye contact with flesh exposed for her enjoyment, or rather yours. You liked doing this to her. Flipping the dominate switch to submissive and watching her crumble.
Abby knew it would be more than worth it once you had the harness and strap on, fucking her so dumb. Her pussy fluttered at the thought of it. She wanted you to stretch her out – turn her into your little fuck toy. You liked it, loved it even. Tearing apart someone so strong, until she was putty in your hands and begging for it.
It’s what she deserved after pulling the little stunt today.
She needed to be put in her place and you were more than happy to oblige.
“For starters, stop looking at my tits and look in my eyes.” Abby obeyed you, anticipating your next move.
“Now, be a good girl. Go upstairs, strip for me. I want you naked on the bed, and Mommy will be up there to remind you exactly who you belong to.” You slapped her ass as she moved hastily up the steps leading into your bedroom.
Let’s just say, Abby was in the for a long night.
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incognit0slut · 5 months
Text
The Last Laugh
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.
warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it
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...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...
"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."
The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?
According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?
"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."
"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"
Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."
"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"
"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."
She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"
"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."
"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"
Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."
She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."
Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"
She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."
Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."
"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."
"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."
Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."
Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."
She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.
Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.
"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."
Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."
That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?
Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.
She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.
"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.
A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"
"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"
Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."
Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"
Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."
She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.
Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.
"This must be hard for you," he commented.
"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.
"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."
Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."
"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"
Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"
She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"
She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.
She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.
"Should I help you jog your memory back?"
Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."
His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"
She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.
She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."
His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"
"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"
"We could share the bed."
She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"
"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."
He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."
Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."
She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"
"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.
"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.
Shit.
"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."
"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."
"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."
"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"
Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.
"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."
She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."
"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."
Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.
Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.
It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.
"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."
"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.
Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.
Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.
Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.
"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"
Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.
"Beg me."
She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.
"Beg me."
"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.
"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."
And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.
He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.
With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.
If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.
Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.
"W-What are you doing?"
There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.
"Taking matters into my own hands."
Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.
"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."
Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.
"But I can satisfy myself just fine."
And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.
With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."
Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.
He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.
She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.
He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.
"Spencer," she moaned.
That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.
"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."
A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.
His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.
When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.
It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.
"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.
But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.
"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."
He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"
Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.
And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.
"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.
"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."
He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.
He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.
His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.
Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.
"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."
Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.
Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.
Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.
The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.
She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.
She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.
But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm. 
He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.
"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"
"Inside."
He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"
She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.
"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."
It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.
With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.
Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.
"Well that was—"
She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."
Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."
His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."
She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"
"I feel sticky too."
"Spencer."
His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."
She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."
"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless. 
"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."
He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.
Not that she was complaining.
.
a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute
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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months
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Christian Woman
(König x Nun!Reader)
Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.
Part 1
You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city. 
You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him. 
It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.
Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.
“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”
“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.
Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.
His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?
You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun. 
“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?” 
He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that. 
You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.
You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.
He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices. 
This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly. 
He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.
You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.
So you meet him again. 
And again… And again. 
You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.
“I guess you could put it like that.”
He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him. 
He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby. 
The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing. 
“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”
“What’s ‘twerking’?”
It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you. 
It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes. 
Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.
A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.
You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe. 
And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.
You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.
You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.
König can’t even keep his eyes in check. 
They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.
You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.
Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.
He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over. 
König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his. 
Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men. 
You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore. 
It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.
Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.
You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.
"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.
"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.
"A… A what?"
She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.
When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.
Christ have mercy…
"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"
You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her. 
Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.
Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.
"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.
"Did you sleep with him…?"
"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."
Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.
"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"
"Convent," you correct.
"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."
“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”
“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”
"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"
"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."
You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.
"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.
"What?"
Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.
"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.
"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"
"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."
"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."
"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”
“Oh for God’s sake…”
“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”
You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.
“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”
“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.
“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”
“Yes, but–”
“Mmh. Deep voice?”
“Umm… It’s memorable?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.
You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table. 
You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.
Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are. 
"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"
The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.
"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"
"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."
"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.
Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...
"Yours now, is he?"
"No, that was… It just slipped."
"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"
"What?! No."
"You have," she insists with a widening smile.
"No. No, I–"
"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"
You feel your lips snap into a thin line.
Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles? 
If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good. 
"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?" 
Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.
"What does that have to do with anything…?" 
"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.
You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.
The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared. 
This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.
You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.
Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.
You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends. 
There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.
Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.
Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.
But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.
You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.
The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary. 
König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.
Because…
One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours. 
It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.
You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.
“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”
“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again. 
Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.
The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.
I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.
Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.
He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.
You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.
“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.
“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”
“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.
He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.
“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.
“What if I don’t want some other girl?” 
His voice is so wickedly gentle too.
You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now. 
“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…
“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”
It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.
“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.
“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?” 
You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…
“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.
“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…
“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.
“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.
“Are you… Are you leaving then?”
“Soon.”
Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.
You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.
This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts. 
“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.
“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”
“That would be nice.”
“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”
“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again. 
“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”
You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.
“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…
You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.
“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister. 
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