#do not mind me this merely a girl collection
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—“i just wanna be one of your girls tonight,”
pairing: geto suguru x fem! reader
synopsis: you’ve had a crush on your brother’s best friend for a long time, and just wanted to have his attention at least once
content: smut, weed consumption, blowing smoke into your mouth, choking, fingering, mirror sex, praise
You would do anything for the attention of Geto Suguru. There was just something about him that you needed. Yes he was your brother’s best friend. And yes he was three years older than you. But that really meant nothing.
Your teeth bit down painfully on your bottom lip as you watched Geto flirt with an older girl. His signature smirk on his face as he leaned onto her locker, hands in his pocket with his lips moving in the sweetest words.
You wish it could’ve been you. The way she got shy, her face flushed red as she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear with a perfectly manicured nail.
All you could do was watch with longing as his arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his side before they began walking the halls together. His smirk never faltered as he nodded along to her words.
Lucky. You thought to yourself, a tight lipped smile painted on your face.
You finished packing away your books, slamming the metal blue door shut before making your way to class. You’d always be his best friend’s little sister.
“Fuck- sorry..” you trailed off as you looked up to find his eyes staring back down at you. A smile on his face and his eyebrow raised as broad hands held onto your waist to steady your frame. “Language sweetheart. And careful now, wouldn’t want Gojo to kill me, would we?” he teased.
Your mouth opening and closing with no words escaping. “U-uh y-eah, well n-no, i mean no.” So fucking embarrassing.
Geto only chuckled, shaking his head in amusement then walking off with a grin. “Bye little Gojo.”
There he goes with that stupid nickname again.
…
The day goes by with nothing on your mind. Well, except Geto of course. He would be coming over to your house later to hang out with your brother. And as always, they would have girls over.. and you weren’t invited as Gojo put it.
Leaving your classroom, you passed by your locker to collect your things. Swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way to the school’s doors. “Hey y/n,” a deep voice called. Turning around to see Geto jogging up to you with a girl’s arm hooked around his. A brunette this time.. great.
“Yeah?”
“Gojo asked for me to take you home, so you’re stuck with me.” He stated, winking jokingly before draping his arm over your shoulder as he walked you and his girl of the day to his vehicle.
If only he knew what that mere gesture did to you.
You took a seat in the back of his vehicle. Awkwardly watching as his hand squeezed the thigh of the girl in the passenger’s seat, massaging her skin until she was looking at the side of his face with nothing but want.
You blinked your attention away from them, resting your head back and looking out the car window instead. The ride to your house was silent apart from the girl’s constant giggling. And you kept your focus on anything but them, missing the way Geto glanced back through the rear view mirror. His head tilted and a small smile on his face.
She’s jealous, cute.
…
“We’re here,” Geto announced.
Walking into the house and greeting your brother in a hug before flopping down on the couch with his girl on his lap.
Gojo had his own blonde sat next to him, her legs on his lap as she played with his hair. “Hello little sister, not even gonna greet your favorite big brother hello?”
You gave a short wave before going up to your room, locking the door shut before flopping onto your bed. You wanted him.. so bad.
Maybe if you were just two years older.. granted, 18 and 21 wasn’t even that bad.. but maybe he would watch you then.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you heard loud music fill the house, the group most likely beginning their drinking and make out session by now.
Grabbing your phone, you plugged in your earphones. One of The Girls by the weeknd blasting through your ears as you let your mind wander. Geto, his hands, on your body.
You let out a soft whimper as you allowed your hand to roam to your chest, squeezing your tits and rolling your nipples between your soft fingertips.
“Mmm..” you moaned, imagining his hand instead of yours as you trailed it lower, slowly pulling down your pants and letting it slip inside the white lace of your panties. “Fuck.. Suguru,” your fingers rubbed along the line of your slit, teasing your clit before you finally allowed them to dip into your wetness.
“A-ah, so good,” you threw your head back into your pillow, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping heat with desperation. Trying your hardest to curl them to reach that good spot. Almost there.
“Fuck.” you yelled out in frustration, they were not enough. You needed his. His long, veiny fingers.. you needed them in you, around your neck, squeezing at your flesh. Anything.
Sighing loudly, you stood up. Walking over to the door of you and your brother’s shared master bathroom. You would usually knock. But he and his friends were clearly getting drunk— and high, downstairs. So there was no need.
Pushing the door open, your eyes widened at the sight of Geto leaned over your counter. A blunt between his lips as red eyes stared at you through the mirror, his face drenched with water.
“A-am sorry, I thought it was e-empty.” you rushed out, your thighs clenching as you watched his muscles flex as he gripped the counter’s edge even harder.
“Wait,” he called out, stopping you mid track from closing your side of the door. “Come here.”
You gulped hard, shakily walking over to him. “Y-yeah?” Geto smirked, “you know, it’s cute how flustered you get around me.”
You could feel your cheeks heat up, your brain scrambling to find something to say. Geto only chuckled, “wanna try?” holding the blunt out in your direction. “I.. I don't think Gojo would like that.”
He shrugged, “I won’t tell.” Before stalking over to you and backing you up against the counter. You yelped as his arms hooked under your thighs, swiftly lifting you onto the counter top before situating himself between your legs.
Geto’s fingers hooked onto your chin, your eyes meeting his as he lifted your head towards him. “Open.” You did as told, parting your lips and watching as he took a hit, blowing the smoke into your open mouth before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
Your stomach burned with heat, your pussy drenched as his lips found your neck. You let out a soft moan, your hands wrapping around his neck while your fingers tugged at the back of his hair. “What about your girlfriend downstairs?” you spoke between moans.
“Not my girlfriend.” he reassured “And tonight’s all about you.”
You were in heaven, it was even better than you imagined.
Setting the rolled paper down, Geto helped you remove your shirt, pinching your nipples and twisting them softly just to hear you moan. “You sound so pretty.”
Geto hurriedly peeled off his shirt, his abs on display making you bite your tongue. “Touch them.”
“W-what?”
“Go ahead, touch them.” Grabbing your hands and placing them on the hard muscles.
You could only whimper when Geto pulled your pants off of you, his eyes going dark at the sight of the white lace covering your pussy.
He looked down at you with a look of confirmation, you looking up at him through long lashes as you nodded. “Please.”
That was all he needed, ripping the flimsy material off of you and admiring your glistening cunt. His fingers found your wetness, rubbing up and down before sinking them into you. A loud moan escaping your lips making his eyes widen.
“Shhh, don’t wanna get caught do you.”
Geto’s free hand made its way up to your mouth, muffling your mewls as he curled his fingers up into you. Perfect. They were hitting inside you so good, and you allowed yourself to moan his name over and over into his palm. His eyes never leaving yours as he fingered you dumb.
Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, drool coating his hand as you rocked back and forth on the marble top. It was happening, it was actually happening.
“Is this what you wanted baby? This what you been waiting for?”
You nodded, your eyes teary as the pads of his fingers pressed into your g spot with every thrust. Your legs hooked tightly around his waist, your toes curling as you began to tremble.
“Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, hot tongue making you moan out as he nibbled on your lobe. You could only let out a soft cry as you clenched down on his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand and fucking yourself through your high.
Geto watched in pure lust as you came, your glassy eyes looking up at him before shutting in pleasure, your head falling back as you met your release. You looked like a fucking angel in his eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to be the demon to corrupt you.
“Good girl.” he smirked.
You smiled, your eyes trailing to the blunt once more, making Geto’s smirk grow impossibly wider. Picking it up and bringing it to your plump lips. “Inhale... there we go. Now let it sit.. and exhale.” he coaxed, “You like that?”
Your head felt so dizzy, intoxicated even. And you nodded, watching as Geto took his own hit before blowing it out onto your face.
His fingers were dripping with your slick, and he brought them up to his mouth with a smug smile. Using his tongue to lick up your sweetness before connecting his lips to yours again. The kiss was hard, sloppy, and you moaned loudly into him.
Pulling away, Geto flipped you over. Using his knee to spread your legs apart and push your chest down onto the cold marble. You let out a needy whine, meeting his eyes in the mirror as his hand wrapped around your neck. The other lining his cock up with your hole. He let out a choked groan as he eased into you. A loud moan being drawn past your lips.
“S-so tight, fuck.” Geto’s lips parted in a loud groan, using his now free hand to pin both your smaller hands behind your back. “Beg me.. beg me to ruin you.”
You let out a broken cry. “P-please Geto.. please fuck me, ruin me, anything. ‘M all yours.”
You let out a string of high pitched noises when he began slamming his hips into yours. His tip piercing deep into you with every thrust.
“F-fuck, y-you’re.. s-so,” you let out a broken mewl, “so d-deep.” Geto tightened his hold on your neck, lifting your head slightly to force your eyes to stay on his. A deep growl sounding in his throat when you closed them.
“Look at me when i fuck you.” he demanded, your eyes shooting open and meeting his immediately.
Your mouth hung open in a small o. Soundless cries filling the room as you watched your body jerk forward with each movement of his hips.
You were so tight around him. Even tighter than he had imagined. And he couldn’t help the moans leaving his own mouth as he destroyed your pussy.
“Does that feel good? Does my cock feel good inside you baby?”
You nodded with a whimper, your breathing heavy as you were forced to watch yourself be fucked dumb.
“Words sweetheart.”
“Y-yes, it feels s-so good Suguru.”
“That’s my girl.”
You could feel your legs going weak, your knees trembling as you were fucked into the counter. “Nngh- Sugu,” you moaned, a smirk on his face as he thought back to mere minutes ago when you were moaning his name from your bed. Now you didn’t have to imagine, he was right there.
“‘M so close,” you mewled.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me? Show me how much you wanted this?”
His back hunched as he flattened his chest against you, the position allowing him to hit deeper than you thought was possible.
“F-fuck,” you cried out, your eyes widening with tears as you felt his dick fucking you so deep, so good. The pleasure was too intense. The coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap.
“Look at how good you look when you fall apart on my cock. Come on baby— cum for me again.” He encouraged as he rolled his hips up into you, forgetting about being quiet as he relished in your loud moans and cries. You sounded so pretty for him. And for him only.
A loud scream fell past your lips when his dick hammered against your g spot. Your legs shaking uncontrollably as you began to gush around him. Eyes rolling back as you basked in the pleasure from your high.. the highest you’d ever been.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he dragged out, breathing getting heavy and his thrusts sloppy as he gave your pussy its final thrusts.
“Wish i could fill you up more than anything. Fuck, wanna make you mine. Wanted to for so long.” he moaned, voice cracking slightly as his abs tensed.
Geto groaned, pulling out of you before spilling his cum onto your ass, his head thrown back as he let rope after rope fall onto your plush flesh.
Strong hands held you up before you collapsed, holding you tight against him as he breathed heavily into your back. Your chest heaving in an attempt to steady your own breathing.
Your heart clenched as your eyes trailed over the scene in the mirror. You, Suguru.. together, sweat coating both of your skins.
Geto’s voice was soft as he mumbled, “Want you so bad.. need you to be mine. I can’t wait anymore.”
Your heart rate sped up as you felt your tears at the brink of falling. This wasn’t a dream. “I— I..” you were at a loss of words.. he wanted you too.
“It’s okay, I know. You don’t quite make it discreet.” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and placing a kiss onto your head.
Geto cursed, letting out a long sigh and picking up the still lit blunt. Taking a puff before releasing it above your head. “What the fuck am i supposed to say if Gojo finds out.”
Oh yeah.. your brother. He would most definitely not approve.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. A very drunk Gojo slurring, “Yo Suguru? You in there? I need to piss.”
Geto only shook his head with a silent laugh. While you, you couldn’t be bothered. You had him. You actually had him. Suguru was yours. And you weren’t just one of his girls. You were his girl.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#geto x reader smut#geto suguru x reader smut#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru
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Make It Better
my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)
After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.
8k (18+)
Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.
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For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.
With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.
The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.
She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.
How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?
"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."
She frowns at him.
"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.
She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."
The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.
It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.
After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."
With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.
"Okay, smileee—"
The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.
Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."
Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.
"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."
His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.
After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."
When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.
As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.
Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.
They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.
She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.
"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"
"But it wasn't every day!"
Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.
"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"
What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.
"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."
The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.
Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."
She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."
This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.
Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.
She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.
Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.
They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."
She nods.
"We can go to my house."
The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.
She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.
With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.
The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.
She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."
From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.
"What—"
The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.
Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.
Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.
A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.
"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."
When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.
"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."
The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.
He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.
His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—
"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."
She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.
"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"
The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.
"Is that okay?"
In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.
In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.
He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy. Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.
Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.
But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.
In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.
The thought of it slows him down for a second.
That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.
"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.
The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.
His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.
The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.
The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.
Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."
This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.
"I didn't say anything."
She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"
At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.
Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.
"Connie..." she breathes out.
This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.
He asks, "You nervous?"
Words fail her. All she can do is nod.
"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."
To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.
"That's exactly why I'm nervous."
Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.
"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.
The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.
This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.
Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.
"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."
The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.
She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.
The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.
She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.
Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.
He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.
In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."
This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.
He has had his fair share of hook-ups—not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.
Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.
Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.
As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.
She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.
He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.
Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.
It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.
Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."
He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.
It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.
This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.
"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."
His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.
It was horrible.
It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.
It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.
Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.
"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.
He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.
Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."
The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.
She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.
His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.
"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."
That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.
With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.
With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.
The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.
It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.
Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.
"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.
The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.
Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?
Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.
Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"
Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.
The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.
Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.
He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.
For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.
Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.
He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."
The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.
Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.
"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."
He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.
"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."
She blinks at him.
"For what?"
His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.
"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."
The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.
"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."
He nods.
"I did."
There's a long pause, then—
She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.
As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."
He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.
"And probably clean that."
A giggle escapes her when he says this.
"Yeah, we definitely should."
-
Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.
#conrad fisher#conrad fisher smut#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp s2#fanfiction#barely proofread this lmao
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alhaitham x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, anal fingering, double penetrating, squirting, touching yourself, cream pie, praise kink, over stimulation, cum play, oh my goodness i think that’s it haha not proof read i wrote this at 1am i don't know what came over me
“‘haitham, w-wait,” you’re breathless, body still shaking from your orgasm mere moments ago but that doesn’t stop alhaitham from rolling hips into you slow and deep, fucking his own release into you. still so very hard and not nearly satisfied yet. “‘s too much.”
“you can take it,” alhaitham coos, soothes the fat crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks, now smearing against the pillow under your head as he moves you to your side.
once he’s sure you’re settled comfortably there, one of your legs underneath him and the other draped over his hip, his cock still buried deep inside your velvety walls, he leans down with his strong arms holding him above you, folding your leg in your side, breath hot on the space below your ear.
alhaitham hair tickles you as he kitten licks your supple skin before placing a kiss below your ear as he sinks deeper into you, his voice hot and thick in your ear.
“just like that,” he groans as you take every inch of his impressive length. “you’re taking me so well sweetheart.”
“so deep,” you whimper, twisting your neck so you can see his seafoam and amber eyes full of love and lust, have him kiss your lips. when he does, he feels your squeeze around him and he swallows every little noise you give him with the picking up of his pace, the slapping of skin and lewd noises of your ever growing essence mixed with his plentiful cum.
he feels it with every sticky slap and it only fuels his insatiable need for you. it has only ever been you and he needs every bit you.
with slowing thrusts he sits up, so easily moving your body as he pleases. first he spreads your legs wide, one hand wrapped around your ankle, dainty and trembling in his hold. long, calloused fingers collect your mix of arousal on his fingers, your sensitive pussy squeezing around him with the added sensation.
your body is on fire, every nerve tingling and aware of your beloved's touch and the way he was devouring you with his eyes. when his fingers are covered and wet, he brings your leg down and rests it over his muscular thigh, giving him a perfect view of your ass. his fingers move there along with his gaze, sticky fingers caress your other hole, circling around the sensitive skin.
“oh - fuck,” you curse, eyes and mind hazy, the heat between your legs sparking and bringing you to another level with alhaitham inserts one finger into you tight ass, slow and gentle, respondent to how your body reacts and takes him even when he was losing himself to how fucking amazing you feel like this.
all of you is so greedy for him, pulling him in deeper until you could feel him your guts, his finger curling lightly, feeling himself through your thin walls. he still takes it slow, almost painfully so when he pulls his finger from your ass all the way to the first knuckle, his cock following and you swear you’re going to die at the emptiness but it’s only a moment before they both are buried in your warmths again.
you can’t think, can’t barely breathe, can’t control the whimpers and moans from spilling past your lips or the cries of his names that only grow in amount and volume with him repeating this motion until he falls out of sync, filling one of your holes but leaving the other but at other times giving you both, massaging you deep with his finger while his leaking tip repeatedly hits that spot within you that had you seeing stars like sparkling emerald shards behind your eyes.
“touch yourself angel,” he instructs and ever his good girl, you do as he says, your weak fingers traveling between your legs to your clit, familiar but so different for when alhaitham touches you here.
but you still try to mimic his rousing motions, circling around and pressing into the hard bud in time with his thrusts. your fingers are quickly soaked by your fluids and grow even more drenched when you can’t help the clear liquid that slowly leaks from you.
“fuck.. that’s it,” he groans through clenched teeth. “my pretty girl.”
alhaitham feels it too, on the cusp of having you pulsating around his cock and fingers and squirting intensely but not quite moving at a pace that would allow you too. the space where you’re connected, the sheets underneath you, is so unbelievably wet. your legs are shaking, your face half buried into the pillows to hide the sounds you can’t control.
you’re not gonna last like this. you can’t when the pressure between your legs is too much, you’re crying from how utterly wonderful and overwhelming it feels and you’re begging for it when he adds another finger into your ass, deep and feeling every inch of you as he thrusts into your pussy again and again.
“‘h-’haitham! please!”
he’s not faring much better, beads of sweat traveling down the length of his spine and his temples. balls heavy and slamming into the mess you’ve both made. and when you’re begging like this, pretty and like you need it, when he’s this close from spilling into you again, he can’t deny you.
alhaithams other hand lifts up your leg so he can get even deeper inside of you, allowing you to rub your clit better but it was so hard to do when you like a waterfall that would soon be taken over by the rapids building behind it. and it didn’t matter anyways with how quickly it comes to you, having you screaming at the messy thrusts into your holes until he’s spilling ropes of cum inside you, fingerings slowing in the tightness of your ass and he moans your name, deep and sinful, as you feel his heavy cock twitching inside of your flutter walls.
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genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
#alhaitham#alhaitham smut#alhaitham x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#al haitham#al haitham x reader#al haitham smut#🌙moonlight.stories
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𐙚chris' girl (intro) ― matt sturniolo
summary: matt has a not-so-innocent crush on chris' girlfriend
notes/warnings (pls read!!) : this series is going to be nsfw ! if u don't fw that, kindly, bye <3 reader is a popular influencer in la and lowkey oblivious but not really...you'll see lol, alcohol, partying, smoking, the whole nine yards honestly, buckle up...
*this is a work of FICTION, i don't think any of this would actually happen lmfao, it's just for fun! while chris and matt both like reader, there will be no incest shit whatsoever. you can 1000% miss me with that, thank youuu !
[unedited]
it started off with little things every so often. there wasn't this big moment that made matt fall for her, it was more so a collection of interactions he thought back on before bed every night. these interactions, some innocent, some... not so much, plagued his mind. she was everywhere. in his head, in his car, in his house, on his couch. the smell of her vanilla perfume always lingered. he'd pretend to complain, but there was never an ounce of actual annoyance in his voice. it was almost visceral, the way his body reacted to merely thinking about these interactions.
like the time she came into his room for a towel before her and chris went to the hot tub. matt almost choked on his own saliva, the sight of her in the tiniest black bikini known to man, belly button piercing sparkling. the $300 vivienne westwood necklace chris gave her for her birthday dangled dangerously low in the valley of her full chest. matt couldn't speak, but how could he? all he could do was gulp and hand her the towel.
or that time when he was heading to his room for the night, but caught of glimpse of chris' cracked door. she sat on the edge of his, back to the door, slipping the straps of her pink bra back on. she turned her head slowly, as if she knew. but matt was quick to keep walking. did she know? did she want me to see her like that? these questions loomed around matt's mind, a constant battle of fighting what he actually saw versus what his fantasies made him believe. it was bad, that half-awake, half-asleep state of being that would nearly convince matt there was chance she had interest in him.
he could her voice saying his name over and over again.
"matt, matt, matt, matt...-MATT, WAKE THE FUCK UP!" chris interjected, throwing a pillow at matt's head. matt jolted up, gasping for air, chest heaving up and down.
"chris!" matt scowled at him, hand over his heart to make sure he was still alive after being in that much shock.
"ooooh, someone was having a good dream." chris teased, flicking on the lights, "c'mon, seriously, get up. i told y/n we'd pick her up on the way to the party." he mentioned casually, leaving the room to make sure nick was ready to leave as well.
the party. matt had completely forgot. fuck.
the drive to y/n's house was normal: matt drove, nick sat in the passenger seat texting different group chats to see who was coming to the party, and chris sat in the back middle on aux, per usual. maybe it was pathetic, but every time they picked up y/n, matt's stomach would get that light feeling right before you go on a massive roller coaster. he thought with time, it would go away. this had to be the 5th or 6th time they were picking her up, but the feeling in stomach proved no signs of lessening in the slightest. matt would just have to deal with it. he took a deep breath, slowly pulling into her driveway and turning down the music a bit. chris sent his usual "i'm here" text and it wasn't even two minutes later that y/n came strutting out. a pale pink, skin-tight dress that stopped barely after the curve of her ass adorned her body. her chunky black heels clicked against the pavement as she made her way to matt's car. she did a little wave at matt and nick through the driver's side window before opening the back door, chris holding out of hand to help her in.
once she closed the door, the vanilla wave of her perfume set in instantly, matt's grip on the wheel tightening.
"hi guys!" her honey voice beamed, adjusting her dress. "hi baby", giving chris a quick kiss on the cheek. his hand went to its usual spot on her inner thigh. and like usual, matt saw this in the rearview mirror, eyes darting from the sight to the gps directions back and forth, making sure chris' hand didn't travel any further. matt reversed the car, praying he could keep his emotions level for the 14 minute remainder of the drive
"you look soooo fucking good!" nick complimented, turning his upper body to face y/n, almost baffled by her beauty.
"yeah, you really do." chris chimed in, hand squeezing her thigh now. seeing this, matt 'accidentally' hit the brakes abruptly at the red light, causing chris' hand to leave her thigh.
"shit, sorry." matt apologized dryly
"matt, focus up! i swear to god, y/n could drive better in her 6 inch heels." chris jokes, and nick laughs, but y/n swats chris' arm.
"leave him alone." y/n rolls her eyes, digging in her purse for lipgloss.
matt tried so hard not to smirk, turning into the street where the party was happening and parking a couple houses down. the whole street was packed, luxury cars filled every available spot on the curb, beautiful people all heading to the biggest house on the block.
matt didn't register the moments before entering the house, mainly by choice. he hated watching chris always give her the sloppiest tongue kiss whenever they got out of the car. he hated the awkward walk up the street, y/n and chris walking in front of him, hand in hand, while he had to listen to nick's latest tangent.
once nick swung the door open, though, matt had no choice but to look alive. deafeningly loud rap struck matt's chest, the bass booming and buzzing throughout his whole body. y/n and chris went straight to get drinks and greet people like they always did. matt trailed loosely behind.
after a couple drinks, chris and y/n were the stars of the party. y/n body-rolled to the music, chris stood closely behind her, one hand on her hip and the other holding his solo cup in the air. everyone was dancing and having a good time, and then there was matt. he stood off to the side near the drink table, sipping root beer from the can, summoning the strength not to leave with every body-roll and swivel of y/n's hips against chris' groin. matt shook his head, frankly pissed off. chris always did that stupid thing where he pretended to act shocked by y/n's dancing as if they didn't go to parties together all the time. thankfully, matt's suffering was cut short when chris left y/n to get a refill. he walked up to the drink table, pouring himself a shot-sized amount of vodka into the cup, eyeing matt's muted disposition.
"y'know, matt, you could actually talk to people or have a good time here. no one's paying you to stand there like a fucking statue." chris threw his head back, downing the liquor.
"my stomach hurts." matt remarked flatly, sipping his root beer. to be fair, his stomach did actually hurt. the reason why, he couldn't tell his brother-or anyone, really.
"whatever." chris waved him off, leaving to talk with some friends in the other corner.
matt sighed, stomach in knots, the knots covered in thorns, the thorns injected with poison. maybe he should leave, just for a bit... tempting, but then he would lose his parking spot and god knows he wouldn't hear the end of it from nick. his thoughts are interrupted by a cloud of smoke wafting in his face. matt coughs as the cloud fades to reveals some random guy. as much as he tried, matt could not for the life of him keep up with what influencer was who.
to be polite, matt nodded at him, "hey, man."
"'sup." the guy reciprocated, taking another hit of from vape. his eyes traveled somewhere else after a moment, staring with his mouth agape. "jesus fucking christ.." he muttered in disbelief.
matt quirked an eyebrow, confused. turning his head to the direction the guy was looking. that confused dissipated in half a second. there she was. y/n in the middle of the crowd, shaking her ass and rotating her hips sensually. her hands slid down the curves her body to the cadence of the song playing. there were other pretty girls dancing around her, but no one could dance the way y/n did. even without intention, y/n had an innate talent for drawing people in.
"oh...yeah, she's-uh-" matt struggled with what to say that wouldn't blow his cover completely.
"please tell me she's single" the guy's eyes widen on y/n's body, his voice soaked in envy, "or is she your girl?"
matt's stomach filled with a new feeling. defeat. he could lie to the guy, sure. he could could say she was single, but to fuck off because he was about to make his move. or he could go a step further and proudly say she was his girl. he doubted the guy would question it. but it wasn't worth it. he was better than that. plus, he knew he'd feel even more pathetic for it later tonight.
"nah, man, " he took one last look at y/n in all her glory, before throwing his drink away. giving the guy a pat on the shoulder in solidarity, "she's chris' girl."
new fic woooooo !!!! i'm excitedddd
this is just the intro, chp.1 will be up later !
#Spotify#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader
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Girl Next Door
Next Part Series Masterlist
Dbf!Joel x F!Reader AU
Word count: 5.6k
Summary: You move back into your dad’s farmhouse in the serene countryside after you graduate college. Your dad hires Joel Miller, his best friend and neighbor, to remodel your private bathroom. Your dad is a truck driver and leaves for a work trip for several weeks, leaving Joel in your company to do his renovations and watch over you. Unbeknownst to you, Joel is just as much infatuated with you as you are with him.
Content: This fic will last multiple parts along with plot. It will be slow burn but I promise it’ll be worth it.
Warning: This first part contains mature content but is mostly plot based. (Mentions of masturbation (m and f), dirty thoughts)
This fic will contain a relationship with a 22/48 age gap. Some parts will contain mature content. There is a plot but chapters may be read separately if desired.
“Hi, babygirl.” Your dad said, pulling you in for a tight hug, swinging back and forth in your driveway.
You had just gotten back from your six hour drive home from your university in Chicago. The past four years of your life were stowed away in your little white compact SUV. Your college career had flown by in a blur; it felt like just yesterday you were a mere freshman on campus without a clue in the world as to what you were doing with the rest of your life. Fast forward and you were moving back home to stay with your father as you began your new fully remote digital marketing job. You were lucky enough to land a full-time position with a digital marketing company after completing an internship with them the summer before your senior year of college. Eventually you saw yourself living in a big city like LA, but for the time being, you decided to move back home to your dad’s house to save up some money.
Besides, you hadn’t seen your father in months. He was a full time truck driver, so your schedules clashed terribly. Over your breaks at school, your dad was conveniently scheduled to do month long drives. You missed him terribly, so you moving back home was going to allow you to rebuild your relationship with your father.
“I’m so happy to see you. I’ve got your bedroom all clean and ready to go.” Your father said as you pulled away from your hug. His eyes were beaming with excitement. Growing up, you had always been extremely close. When your mother left him when you were just three years old, he took on the job of raising you as a single father. Eventually when you were old enough to be left home alone, he landed a job with a trucking company to deliver supplies across the country. The decision was tough because the last thing your dad wanted was to leave you for weeks at a time, but the salary was too good to pass up with you eventually wanting to attend a four year university. Your college education was extremely important to your father, so seeing his baby girl all grown up with a degree and a full-time job made him so proud.
“Great!” You said, looking back at your car. “I have so much shit to carry in. Mind giving me a hand?”
“I guess.” Your dad said, his tone laced with mock dread.
You and your dad spent the next hour and a half carrying all of your belongings to your bedroom. You hadn’t realized how much shit you had collected over the past few years. By the time you were finished, you were both exhausted. You both sat in the living room sofa, biting into delivery pizza and sipping on soda. You sat with your legs perched up on the sofa cushion, and you felt so homey and accomplished. You started your first day of work at the start of next week. You were incredibly nervous for your first day, but you decided to shift your focus on spending time with your dad.
“So,” he began, “you remember Joel, right?”
Of course you remembered Joel. Joel Miller moved into the house next door the summer you graduated high school. You’d see him occasionally that summer, typically when you’d go outside to sunbathe and he was working on various chores in his yard. You both lived in farmhouses on expansive land in the middle of the country. He spent his time doing yard work and various home renovations when he wasn’t doing contractor work for his clients. You’d spoken to him on various occasions when your dad would invite him over for cookouts or to watch football games. He was a rather reserved man, something in his past making him an abrasive person. Joel had never been rude to you, but he hadn’t been overly kind either. However, that was his normal to you.
“Of course.” You said, taking another bite of pizza. Your dad sat his plate down on the coffee table, then settled back down into his couch cushion.
“I decided since you’re going to be living here full time again that I’d hire Joel to renovate your bathroom. It’s so outdated and I’d rather you have a space that’s fully functioning for when I’m gone. Besides, I want your space to be the best it can be.” Your dad explained. You smiled at him setting your pizza crust back onto your plate.
“Aw, well thank you, Dad.” You beamed up at him, setting your plate next to his on the table. “So what will the renovations consist of? Will it be functional or is he ripping it out completely?”
“If he’s going to do it, I’d rather him start from scratch and build you the bathroom to your liking. I’ll have you two sit down and discuss what you want done so he can go shop from supplies and get an idea of what you want. He’s going to get started at the beginning of next week.” He explained further. “But— I leave for a work trip on Monday and I won’t be back for at least five weeks. I figured you two can handle it and Joel is my buddy, so I trust him.”
Your dad went on about how if you needed anything while he was gone with work, that Joel had offered to help you out. Whether that was if you had any issues with repairs in the house, errands, or simply just someone to confide in. It was summer, and the weather typically got bad in your area. Tornadoes and severe weather weren’t strangers in your region, and it made you and your dad feel safer that someone like Joel was on standby.
“Already, honey. I’m beat. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Your dad said, standing up from the couch. You stood up next to him and reached out for another hug.
“Goodnight, Dad. Thank you for helping me today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, your dad squeezing you tight.
Your dad normally wasn’t an affectionate guy, so you knew he was ecstatic for you to be home. This warmed your heart.
The next day, you spent most of the day unpacking most of your belongings. You started with your clothing, and ended with your toiletries and other essentials. When you were finished, you decided to throw on your bikini to go sunbathe in the backyard. It was a beautiful summer day, and you wanted nothing more than to relax and catch a tan before you spent most of your days inside on your computer. You slipped on your black bikini. It was simple, but it was flattering on your curves and showed off your patchwork tattoos. You threw on your black sunglasses, making sure to grab your headphones, then grabbed a towel from your bathroom. Your dad was right— it was very outdated and your shower and sink were showing signs of age. You were surprised both of them still functioned properly.
When you walked outside, you caught eye of your dad sitting across from someone on the patio. The figure sitting in the chair across from your father’s had ashy brown hair with streaks of gray running through it. He was wearing a washed out denim button up and a pair of dark washed jeans, acccompanied with a worn out pair of work boots. You quickly realized it was Joel.
Your dad’s head turned at the sound of you opening and closing the patio door. He immediately cracked and smile and waved at you.
“Hi sweetie.” He squinted at you, the midday sun bright against his bare eyes. Joel turned his head to to the side, locking eyes on you. He observed you with his dark brown eyes and a knit brow. He ran his calloused fingers over his salt and pepper beard as he took in the sight of you in just your skimpy bikini. Your dad introduced you as you walked towards them, you suddenly feeling insecure under his friend’s gaze. You hadn’t realized Joel was over, otherwise you wouldn’t have stepped out in minimal clothing.
“I’m sure you remember each other.” You dad continued, gesturing between the both if you. Joel nodded, his eyes baring into the dim lenses of your sunglasses.
“I do, you’re much more grown now than the last time I’d seen ya.” Joel said, his voice deep and gruff. Your stomach did a flip at his words. Why were you feeling this way?
Get a grip. You told yourself.
“Yeah.” You breathed out. “18 to 22 is a lifetime within itself.”
Joel nodded then looked back towards your father.
“I told her that you’ll be working on her bathroom for the next several weeks while I’m gone. She might run into a hiccup here and there where she might need to call you over for some help. Shouldn’t give ya too much trouble.” Your dad teased, his eyes dancing between the two of you. Joel nodded and took a sip out of the beer bottle in his hand then dropped it to rest on the arm of his chair.
“I won’t have any other gigs lined up while I’m working here. I should be around if you need me.” Joel spoke, his gaze finding yours once again. You sent him a gracious smile.
“Wonderful, thank you.” You replied. After a moment, you glanced down at your attire and cleared your throat. “I won’t keep you. I came out to get some sun before I’m stuck inside working next week.”
Joel’s eyes were still locked on you, his gaze flickering down your body and back up to eye level. Your skin felt on fire under his stare. There was something about how stern and rigorous his aura was that held your attention captive. The newfound attraction you were suddenly feeling for Joel had you puzzled and almost appalled at yourself. He was definitely a handsome man, but he was over twice you age and he was your father’s best friend. You internally scolded yourself. You weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling this way towards Joel, but you knew you’d have to shun those thoughts away. It was preposterous.
“There’s a chance for storms next week, get that sun while you can.” Your dad said, your eyes moving from Joel to him. You frowned and adjusted the towel in your arms.
“Great.” You said sarcastically. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”
You sent them both a smile and your father waved you off. You ventured off the patio and onto the trimmed green grass of the backyard. You father and Joel’s properties were gorgeous. The expansive land overlooked a spacious field with a forest in the distance. Just before the unruly tall grass of the field was a large manmade pond with a dock that Joel had built the summer he moved in. The country was serene and beautiful. The only sounds were those of the wind whistling and the occasional airplane flying overhead.
You laid your large beach towel down on the grass. You put on your headphones and carefully laid down on your back. The sun already felt amazing on your skin. During the school year, you hadn’t had much free time to do little self care things like this. You knew the sun wasn’t great for your skin in the long run, but it wasn’t often you got to bask in the sunshine.
As you sunbathed, your dad and Joel engaged in random conversations. They discussed the weather, recent football news, the bathroom remodel, and various other things. Your dad did most of the talking while Joel tried his best to interpret what he was saying. Joel’s gaze was fixated on how perfect your breasts looked as you laid on your back taking in the sunshine. Your nipples were peeking through the thin fabric of your bikini top, not leaving much to his imagination. He adjusted in his chair. He felt his cock hardening inside of his jeans, and mentally he was punching himself. You were way too young for him. Not only was the age gap an issue, but you were his best friend’s daughter. Despite how morally distraught these feelings were making him, Joel couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off of you. He’d avert his gaze to the pasture every so often so your father wouldn’t catch on, but every time he felt his attention reverting right back to your body.
“I hate that I won’t be here when you’re remodeling.” Your father said, rubbing the bottom of his beer bottle in circle on the wooden arm rest of his chair, observing the stains the condensation from the chilled glass left. “But I trust your judgment. And I trust her taste.”
“You know me. I’m a perfectionist.” Joel’s lips twisted into a half smile, lifting his beer to take another sip. Your father smiled back at him, chuckling and shaking his head.
“You’ll probably drive her crazy with how particular you are.” Your dad joked. It went quiet for a second, the both of them sitting in the peaceful quiet in thought.
“You know, I really thought she’d be engaged and off in some big city somewhere by now.” Your dad spoke, his head leaning back and him closing his eyes to feel the sun beating down on his skin. Joel swallowed hard, looking back towards you. You’d flipped on your stomach, your ass on perfect display for him. His cock twitched in his pants, and he quickly adjusted himself before your father reopened his eyes.
“Why’s that?” Joel responded.
“She’s always been such a romantic. Dunno where she got it from, sure as hell wasn’t me. After her mom left, I didn’t even try to date.” He began. “When she was teenager she was obsessed with romance films and novels. She was always crushing on someone.”
Your dad ran a hand through his graying hair and sighed.
“She got her heart broken pretty bad her senior year of high school. She was dating this asshole for two years and then he cheated on her. Since then, I don’t think she’s even tried to date. Makes me sad for her, but then again I guess it let her focus on her school work.” He explained. Joel felt a tightness in his chest at his words. He was almost jealous.
You were one of the most beautiful women Joel had ever laid eyes on. Not only were you pretty, but you were a kind, wise soul. In the times he’d been around you before you left for college, you acted beyond your years. You were intelligent and engaging to speak to. His infatuation with you had started when you were eighteen, but he had always shunned away his attraction for everyone’s sake.
Joel did know one thing for sure. He didn’t know how in the hell he was going to hide his feelings for you for the next several weeks.
Monday came sooner than you had anticipated. You had said goodbye to your father the night before because you knew Monday was going to be chaotic with him loading up his luggage for his trip while you were making sure your setup was flawless for your first day of remote work. You’d spent the rest of the weekend rearranging you bedroom and workspace while also prioritizing spending time with your father. You were used to rarely seeing him while you were away at college, but it still pained you to see him leave for the next several weeks.
You began work at nine in the morning. You were a digital marketing assistant for a company within the entertainment industry, so your daily tasks consisted of editing social media content. As long as you got your tasks done for the day, you could take breaks and technically end your day whenever you wanted. By two in the afternoon you had already finished your first day of work, and you immediately felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. You were worried for no reason. You were more than qualified and you enjoyed your work.
You and Joel planned to sit down and discuss the plans for your bathroom remodel that evening, so you spent a majority of the rest of the afternoon researching renovation inspiration. You saved several pictures of showers, sinks, and layouts that you liked to show Joel. You were nervous to see Joel. You were normally very good with hiding your attraction for people, but something about Joel made you extra nervous. You were terrified you were going to act weird and make it painfully obvious. You sighed and stood up from your desk, deciding to take one last shower in your bathroom before it was out of service for the next couple months.
You grabbed your waterproof speaker and connected your phone to play some music as you showered. You decided to shuffle your classic rock playlist and turned the water as hot as it could go. One of your flaws was needing scorchingly hot shower water. You hummed along to “Beast of Burden” as you brushed through the tangles in your hair. Your thoughts began to run crazy as you disassociated while prepping for your shower. Your mind drifted off to Joel. You couldn’t help but wonder about his personal life. Was he seeing anyone? Has he ever been married? If so, what happened? Your thoughts were running wild as you stepped into the shower, the water almost being too hot to withstand, but it felt perfect on your skin.
The water ran off your skin, your hair soaking as you emulsified shampoo between your palms. A scenario began to play in your head. You imagined it were Joel’s large, coarse hands scrubbing the shampoo into your scalp. You closed your eyes and parted you lips as you imagined him towering over you from behind, his front touching your backside as he massaged the shampoo into your locks. The shea butter scent filled the steamy shower stall, the suds falling down the soft skin of your body. You felt a rush of arousal send a tingle down your abdomen into your core. You felt naughty having such disgusting thoughts about your dad’s best friend, but you hadn’t felt this aroused in months. You hadn’t had sex since your last high school relationship. You’d gone on a few dates in college, but none of them ever led to anything. The furthest you’d gone with anyone was a few steamy make outs at the club on the weekends when you got a little too drunk, but you never ended up taking anyone home.
You nipples began to harden under the flow of water from your shower head. Your eyes flickered up to inspect the shower head. It wasn’t detachable. You groaned in disappointment. You needed friction immediately. Your hand reached up to your breasts, softly toying with the supple flesh of your nipple. You ran gentle circles around the raised skin, pinching the mound between your fingertips. You exhaled deeply, your folds slowly begging to become coated in arousal. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve the discomfort. Your clit was throbbing at the crest of your folds. You slowly lowered your hand down your torso to your clitoral hood, lifting it up ever so softly to graze your sensitive bud. Your legs jolted at the sudden wash of pleasure in your lower abdomen. You carefully danced circles around the bundle of nerves. After teasing your clit for a moment, you lowered your fingers to swipe up your vulva, then teasing the soft skin around the opening of your vagina.
You inserted your index finger into your opening, curling it upwards to run over the rough skin of your g spot. You moaned softly as you began to pump your finger in and out of yourself. You added a second finger as your canal adjusted to the girth of your first finger. You couldn’t remember the last time you masturbated, so the intense pleasure was overcoming your senses exceptionally fast. You free hand moved downwards to press against the flesh of your pelvic bone, pushing your g spot further against your fingertips. You gasped as you felt the estranged feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you. The white heat of you climax was in the distance, and you moved your outer hand to run circles around your clit. The added pleasure of the clitoral stimulation sent you into pure euphoria. Your orgasm hit you suddenly, your pussy clenching around your fingers. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your climax hit you like a train, your legs losing their strength beneath you. You moaned audibly, your hand jutting out to stabilize yourself against the wall of your shower.
What you didn’t realize as you were pleasuring yourself in the shower was Joel had entered your house to meet with you about your bathroom. He’d figured you were finishing up your work day, so he took a seat on the sofa downstairs. He had texted you several minutes ago and you weren’t responding. He tapped his finger against his thigh, soon realizing he could hear the shower running upstairs. His mind drifted off to imagine how your naked body would look covered in suds and glistening from the water in the shower. He felt like a horny teenage boy. You had been infiltrating his thoughts like crazy since the day you sunbathed. Embarrassingly enough, Joel had jacked off two nights in a row over the sight of your tits and ass in that tiny bikini. He wanted nothing more than to explore your body without the obstruction of clothing. He felt vile and disgusting thinking so animalistically about you, but the infatuation was overcoming him.
Joel’s ears perked up when he heard your muffled moans coming from upstairs. His brows knitted together as he tried to decipher what he had just heard. You couldn’t be, could you? His suspicions were confirmed when he heard you moan again. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and his mind began racing again. You were masturbating not even twenty feet away from him. He felt his pants begin to tighten, and he let out a breathy moan as he palmed himself over his jeans. He felt so dirty and desperate. He longed to bound up the stairs and join you, fucking you against the wall of your shower, your soapy breasts shoved up against the glass door. He tipped his head back and he squeezed his penis through his jeans, the tent struggling against the tight material. He could feel himself leaking into his boxers. In a quick decision, Joel pushed himself off the couch and made his way to the downstairs bathroom. He wasn’t sure how long you would take to finish your shower, but he knew he’d have to relieve himself to be able to have a normal conversation with you about this remodel.
Joel closed the bathroom door, locking it behind him. He wasted no time unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles. He gripped the sink with his free hand, reaching into his boxers to pull out his throbbing cock. Just as he thought, his tip was leaky and sensitive. He ran his middle finger and thumb in a tight ring around the ridge between his mushroom tip and shaft, stroking it firmly. He breathily whimpered as he gripped the counter harder, his knuckles turning white. He began to pump himself up and down, picturing your breathtaking body in that god for saken bikini again. He imagined pushing you back onto your bed in that skimpy little suit, the ties around your hips loosened. He visualized untying the strings, slipping the material off to expose your perfect pussy to him. God, and your perky tits were enough to make his length twitch in his hand. He stroked himself faster, feeling himself getting closer to release. He replayed the sweet sound of your moan in his head, the small detail being enough for his release to jump in hot spurts against his hand. He moaned as he came hard, his abdominal muscles clenching as his climax overcame his senses.
Joel took a moment to catch his breath and come down from his high before grabbing a tissue to clean up his hand and tip. He exhaled deeply as he tucked his softened length back into his boxers. He wondered if you had finished as he washed his hands with citrus scented hand soap.
You had come downstairs nearly an hour after Joel had finished. That orgasm was exactly what you needed to relax before facing Joel. Sure, you were consciously fighting the remorse after cumming on your fingers to the thought of your neighbor, but you weren’t nearly as nervous as you had been previously.
You’d gotten Joel’s text, and you internally cringed knowing that he was in the house while you were masturbating to the thought of him. You hurried down to greet him, finding him sitting on the sofa. You noticed his cheeks were more flushed than usual, but you assumed he had just been outside doing chores that day and had gotten a little too much sun.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I was in the shower and got carried away.” You apologized, sitting down adjacent to Joel. He glanced up at you with his big brown eyes, an emotion running through them that you couldn’t put a finger on.
“No worries.” Joel responded with his gruff voice. He cleared his throat. He seemed stiff, as though something was bothering him. You kept your suspicions to yourself and opened your laptop to show Joel the inspiration pictures you had saved.
“I have a few inspiration pictures for the bathroom.” You said softly, your finger dragging gently across the touchpad of your laptop to navigate to the file where you compiled several pictures of bathrooms you found online. You wouldn’t be very helpful with the actual construction of the bathroom, let alone the shopping for parts, but you had an aesthetic in mind. You turned your laptop so it would be easier for Joel to see, and scooted closer to him. Your thighs were inches apart, and Joel swallowed when he noticed he could feel the heat radiating off your bare thighs. You smelled lovely, like warm vanilla and cashmere. The smell was intoxicating and Joel longed to reach out and touch the soft skin of your leg, but he knew he couldn’t.
The first picture you showed Joel was of a bathroom with white and black checkered floors with forest green tile walls. Your favorite color had always been green, and you loved the retro feel of the checkered flooring. Joel was a very simple man when it came to designs, but he found himself loving the pictures you’d chosen. They were very much you. You swiped through the pictures, briefly explaining what you loved about each one. Joel observed each photo carefully, taking into account what stood out most to you.
“I love the gold and black accents.” Joel said at one of the pictures you showed him. You glanced up at him with a toothy grin.
“I was worried you’d hate it. But I’m so glad you agree.” You beamed, looking back towards your laptop. Seeing your smile made Joel feel warm inside. Something as simple as seeing you smile really made Joel realize the effect you had on him. His attraction was undeniable, but the realization of the situation sent a pang of disappointment through him. You were so young with so much life ahead of you. You’d never settle down for someone at his age. He couldn’t give you the typical life you deserved; he couldn’t bring you kids, and you were just starting your career. He was nearing the end of his. It would be selfish of him to ever try and hold you back from experiencing life. Joel tried his best to push away those dreadful thoughts for the time being and focus on the present. He enjoyed being around you, and he was going to make the most of it without letting his newfound feelings interfere.
“I’ll have to go to the store and scope out some materials. There’s a chance they won’t have everything we need in store and I might have to order online. If I end up ordering online, it won’t be a big deal considering I’ll have to tear out most of your bathroom first.” Joel explained. You listened attentively as he spoke, you gaze focusing on the way the lines in his face moved as he spoke. You could sit and listen to him speak for hours and not get bored.
“Do you mind if I go take a look at your bathroom and take some pictures?” He asked, leaning back to take his phone out of his front pocket. You swallowed hard as your eyes drifted to the crotch of his jeans, observing the protruding outline. You quickly looked back towards his face, but he had noticed. He decided to not address it, but he couldn’t help but feel the electricity strike through him. Maybe he was overthinking it; you were probably looking innocently to see what he was reaching for.
“Oh, yes of course. Help yourself.” You responded, closing your laptop and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. As you leaned forward, Joel’s gaze fell to watch the way your ass peeked out of the bottom of your shorts. He couldn’t help himself. He averted his eyes as you sat back up. He cursed at himself mentally when he felt his dick begin to harden in his boxers.
“Lead the way.” He said, pushing himself off the couch.
He followed you upstairs, his hand immediately falling to his crotch to adjust himself. The friction only made things worse. It didn’t help that he had a perfect view of your ass as you climbed the stairs. He could only hope you wouldn’t notice the tent in his pants once you got to the bathroom.
You lead him through your bedroom, apologizing quietly at the mess since you were still in the process of unpacking all of your belongings. Your room smelled heavenly. It smelled exactly like you and your delicious vanilla perfume. The smell itself made Joel feel weak. When you made it to the bathroom, you stepped aside to give him room to take pictures and observe what needed to be done. You took a moment to really take in his appearance. His shoulders were wide and his muscles were practically protruding through the short sleeves of his button up shirt. His jeans were tight against his muscular thighs, and even tighter against his crotch. You could’ve sworn the bulge in his pants was even larger than you’d observed downstairs, but you looked away quickly. You felt it deep in your core as you thought about the possibility of him being hard around you. You convinced yourself it was impossible.
Joel began snapping pictures of your bathroom, taking close ups of any details he found important. He opened the stall door to your shower, investigating the impurities in its design. It was definitely aged and needed repairs. It was a good thing he would need to rip out the shower entirely to remodel it to your desired design. This remodel would probably take him a couple months. He knew it would challenge his abilities, but it wasn’t anything impossible for him. He knew it was going to take extra time considering he wanted nothing but perfection for you.
“I’ll probably start tearing out the shower and sink tomorrow. I’ll need to go ahead and replace the toilet too. It’ll take me a few days to tear everything out.” Joel exhaled, taking a step back from the bathroom and peering down at you. “I’ll need to go to the store today and order some materials to make sure they’re here by next week. Would you like to come with me to pick out what you want?”
Your belly fluttered at the idea of running to the store with him. It would feel very domestic spending time with him outside of with your father and this remodel. Although it was still for the remodel, you would be able to spend time with him in public and get to know him better.
“Sure, I would love to.” You said, grinning up at him with your doe eyes.
You were close in proximity, and his musky aftershave was intoxicating. If the circumstances were different, you’d waste no time in pulling him into you and kissing him, but you couldn’t do that. You looked away to locate your purse.
“Do you want to go now? Maybe we can get something to eat on the way back?” You said, wandering over to your desk to grab your purse.
“That works.” Joel said, his voice deep and rich. He ran hand through his hair and put his phone in his pocket, replacing it with his keys in his hand.
Joel was nervous. Nervous to spend time with you outside of this project. You were wonderful and he wanted nothing more than to spend time with you, but he knew how dangerous that was for him. He feared the more time spent with you, the more he was going to become infatuated with you. But nonetheless, he led the way to his truck.
#joel x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal#din djarin#pedro pascal smut#pedro x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#the mandalorian#joel miller smut#dbf!joel#tlou
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The Weight of a Promise
“I want her.” Your heart sank when Gortash pointed at you with his chin. He leaned back, a waitress hurrying toward his table to clear the dirty plates because you were frozen in place, paralysed as if bitten by a Spectator. Hot needles pierced your stomach.
“M-me? But I’m not…I’m not a…”
“Then you shall have her. I’ll have her sent up to you shortly, Lord Gortash. Make yourself comfortable.”
A/N: Just hear me out, okay!
Words: 3721
Warnings: smut, dub-con, prostitute!Reader
Additional NSFW Warnings: CMNF, loss of virginity
“I want her.” Your heart sank when Gortash pointed at you with his chin. He leaned back, a waitress hurrying toward his table to clear the dirty plates because you were frozen in place, paralysed as if bitten by a Spectator. Hot needles pierced your stomach.
“M-me? But I’m not…I’m not a…”
“Then you shall have her. I’ll have her sent up to you shortly, Lord Gortash. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Excuse me?” Your voice was shrill, panicked. You turned to face Mamzell Amira glaring at you. It was a warning look, one she was daring you to defy.
“No!”
Gortash raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing on his handsome features. It resulted in Mamzell Amira huffing an awkward laugh, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the kitchen. The chef protested but she paid him no mind.
“Do not embarrass me in front of the Archduke! Have you got any idea how important it is for us to have his support for our establishment?”
“I am not a prostitute. When you hired me, I insisted it would be to serve food and drinks only, not to spread my legs for your customers. My contract doesn’t say—”
You admired the courage and the sensuality of your colleagues around here. Their life sounded like a never-ending adventure but it was one you were less eager to become a part of. Mamzell Amira was the only one who’d given you a chance. In exchange for your work, you were allowed to take shelter in one of the smaller rooms upstairs and receive three meals a day. You’d signed a contract for it, even.
Waitress, it had said. Not waitress and sex worker.
“I know what your contract says, girl. But this is Lord Enver Gortash out there.”
“Just tell him to pick someone else! You won’t make him pay anyway!”
“He doesn’t want someone else. He wants you.”
“Then tell him I’m not available!” You clenched your fists, anger and panic boiling up inside you.
“I will do no such thing! You either go up there now and make the archduke happy or I’ll kick you out and you’re back out on the streets before you can say ‘sex’!”
“You bitch.”
“Call me what you will. But I will not have you jeopardise my relationship with the very ruler of Baldur’s Gate.”
When he first entered the establishment with a Fist and a Steel Watcher in tow, the whole room went silent. Excitement rippled through your colleagues like electricity, you could tell. They went rigid, giddy, wide smiles spreading on their lips.
Others merely widened their eyes. Lord Enver Gortash at Sharess’ Caress? Unlikely. Outrageous! But then again even archdukes needed some release and fun every now and then, no? Well, you didn’t buy it, scoffing as you collected some empty glasses to bring to the kitchen.
Something was off with this man. His Steel Watch came out of nowhere and the way he made himself out to be the saviour of Baldur’s Gate…it didn’t sit right with you. This man was no selfless hero, one look into his eyes was enough to determine that. Funnily enough, however, no one else seemed to notice. Or perhaps they didn’t want to notice so as long as he protected them from this Absolute cult threatening the city. Either way, it was ridiculous. There were rumours spread by sceptics, even. Dark rumours that he worshipped Bane, the god of tyranny.
So here you were now, in a pickle. Sleep with the man who painted himself as a saint without payment or lose the roof over your head and starve out in the streets. You cursed, storming past Mamzell Amira and fighting the gag forcing its way up your throat when you realised what you were about to do.
“First room to the right. Do not disappoint him!”
It was a fucking walk of shame, it felt like every single person you walked past knew exactly what you were about to do. Some probably envied you. Others must have been relieved they were not in your situation.
Gortash had already made himself comfortable on the large king-size bed when you slipped into the room and locked the door behind you.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he announced.
“Sorry, my lord. There were some…discrepancies.”
He chuckled. “Do you often contradict your employers? I would have expected more eagerness from a pretty thing like you.”
You gnashed your teeth, swallowing down the snarky remark dancing on your tongue. He waited. And waited. And waited.
“I’m not really, um…sure what to do.” Blood bit at your cheeks, embarrassment creeping up your spine. Gods, this was so absurd. Was it really worth it?
Gortash tilted his head. “You have done this before, have you not? Don’t lie to me,” he added.
You sighed. Well, fuck you, Amira.
“No. I haven’t. I’m not a prostitute. Mamzell Amira sold me to you despite her promise I’d only be working here as a waitress.”
“I see.”
Your eyes darted up, seeking compassion in his dark eyes. Perhaps he’d understand, perhaps he’d pick someone else after all and chide the brothel owner for breaching the contract she’d made you sign…but there was none. Only hunger.
“Come here.”
“Did you…did you not hear me?”
“I did. My ears work very well, dear.”
So he didn’t care. And if you refused him now…you could imagine more comfortable things than facing the wrath of a man who built an army of automatons seemingly overnight.
“Take off your dress. Let me see you.”
You obeyed—you didn’t have much choice, after all. It could have been worse, no? Gortash was handsome at least. Duke Ravenguard, as self-righteous as he was, would have been a less appealing option with how old he was compared to Gortash.
You weren’t exactly graceful when you stepped out of your dress, undergarments following quickly. Gortash made no move to undress himself in the meantime, instead watched every single one of your movements like a hawk, amused and greedy, even more so when you pushed yourself to climb on the bed.
Come to think of it…there was not a single man who had ever seen you naked, except for your father maybe when you were still an infant and needed a nappy change. This was new. Different, terrifying considering the circumstances and…exciting?
Fuck, you shouldn’t find this exciting! You didn’t want to do this, you only meant to survive, to…
You couldn’t finish the thought. Gortash leaned forward, pulling you against him. The cool metal of the demonic faces on his armour against your palm was only a small comfort as he rolled you both over and then towered above you with a smirk.
And against all reason, when he leaned down to kiss your lips, your eyes fell shut. Fuck, no!
“You can’t…” You didn’t know much about prostitution but if there was one thing you did know, it was that kissing was usually off-limits.
“Of course I can.” Gortash grabbed your chin, deepening the kiss. It felt…good. Intimate. Almost like he meant it. His tongue slipped into your mouth, battling yours for dominance you gave up far too quickly for your own liking.
You shivered when he pressed himself even closer to you, forcing your legs apart. The metal and the leather dug into your bare skin, your hands wandering, exploring his chest in a frenzy. Your body was…reacting to him in the most delicious ways.
You realised the very moment he freed his hardening length from his leather trousers that you were getting wet. The heat between your legs had you breathing heavily, even more so when you laid eyes on his arousal. Soft black hair framed the base of his erection, his tip red and eager and leaking precum. You were worried for a moment how it would fit with how inexperienced you were. If you tensed up out of nervousness…surely it would hurt.
Gortash released your lips with a deep breath, adjusting himself between your legs. With one hand, he guided himself to your weeping entrance, with the other he stroked your cheek before focusing on your left breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.
“Relax, dear. This is supposed to be pleasurable for us both.” Was it? You very much doubted the archduke cared if you…well, finished. Yet, with how breath-taking being with him felt in this very moment, perhaps he truly did mean his words.
Inch by antagonising inch, he spread you wide open, pushing inside. He went slow, savouring every last moment. His expression was calm, blissful, almost…beautiful.
He stretched you further and further, a light burn spreading between your legs and then…it was over, leaving nothing but pleasure behind. Gortash filled you to the brim, bathing in the sensation and perhaps, letting you get used to his size before he started moving. He withdrew slowly, propped himself up on one elbow and kept kneading your breasts with his free hand, before he plunged himself back in, fucking you in a slow and steady rhythm that had your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Gortash took his sweet time, savouring every single second. Grinding against you, he buried himself inside you as deep as he could, pounding you into the mattress. He was eager for his release, yet when he reached down to where your bodies met to find your clit with an easiness that made you flinch, you couldn’t help but allow a moan to escape your lips.
He chuckled in response, his thrusts getting harder, more uncontrolled. Fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. It felt good. He felt good. His thumb was massaging that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs even better than when you did it, hidden under your blanket at night. And whenever you did it, there was no one watching your every reaction like you were the most desirable woman in Faerûn.
There was amusement too though. It was clear by now he wanted you to come. Not for your sake—but for his. Whether it was to satisfy his ego, to confirm he knew what he was doing in bed or simply because you could only imagine how pleasurable it must have felt for him for your cunt to clench around him, to milk him for all he was worth.
Gortash left you no choice. You climbed higher and higher, unable to escape the bliss he bestowed upon you even if you wanted to. Part of you longed to deny him your pleasure, to not let him win this wicked game of his. But it was no use.
You were coming before a curse could leave your lips. You fell apart beneath him, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning bolt. Your toes curled, your muscles tensed, endorphins clouded your senses. Your moans made him smirk, your contracting pussy made him groan.
He seemed to grow even harder then, his sinful grunts the sexiest sound you had ever heard. He moved slightly, digging his fingers deep into your flesh as he grabbed your hips, surely leaving angry marks that would remind you of this encounter for days to come.
For a moment, he was no longer the fearsome archduke or the self-proclaimed hero of Baldur’s Gate. He was a man enslaved to lust and carnal desire—just as you were a woman of the same affliction. You moaned as he pumped his seed into you, his hard cock twitching and jerking against your walls until eventually…he collapsed on top of you with a satisfied sigh, leaving you both to process the aftermath in silence.
You swallowed as soon as the last waves of pleasure had ebbed away, realisation of what you had just done hitting you square in the face like a painful blow. You rose, shifting forward quickly in an attempt to climb out of bed and retrieve your clothes—to forget this ever happened before it could plant its roots into your mind even though part of you longed to do this again. Not with just anyone—with him.
Gortash chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, preventing you from leaving. “Are you in a hurry?”
“N-no.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind staying for a while longer.” His fingertips ghosted over your shoulder blade, leaving goose bumps behind in the process.
You should have resisted. Should have wailed, screamed, lashed out. You didn’t. Instead, you let your body relax and…enjoy the intimacy between you.
“Are the rumours true?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
“Are what rumours true?”
“Are you…a Bane worshipper?”
Silence. Long enough for you to regret your question.
“Bane is a god like any other, dear. And he can lead you to great power. He knows that power demands sacrifice—sacrifices not everyone is willing to make.”
It wasn’t an answer and yet it was. You refrained from another comment. After all, you intended to keep your head after losing your virginity.
He made you talk about yourself after this. Tell him your name, where you were from, where your family was. Light small talk you would have brushed off as mere politeness if it wasn’t Lord Enver Gortash you were conversing with.
You remained careful not to reveal too much about yourself. Trust came a long way and just because he had fucked you into the next year and proved that he was surprisingly good in bed that did not mean you would throw all caution out of the window.
After you’d gotten dressed again, you accompanied him downstairs where he was met by a smiling Mamzell Amira behind the counter by the entrance.
“I hope you had a good time, Lord Gortash?”
“A very good time indeed. Now…how much do I owe you for the time of this lovely flower of yours?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes even though part of you rejoiced. It was ridiculous just how much you enjoyed his attention and affection despite your suspicion and your fucked-up situation. Besides, his wordplay regarding your virginity did not go amiss. Mamzell Amira perchance hadn’t even been aware of your inexperience.
“Lord Gortash, please…you owe nothing at all. We are glad that you enjoyed your time here—and I hope we will see you again very soon.”
Your face fell. You had expected something like this. It hurt nonetheless. You had given your virginity to this man…and it wasn’t even worth a single gold piece.
Gortash smirked. “We shall see. I am a busy man.”
“Oh, busy men especially should take a rest every now and then. Enjoy your evening, Lord Gortash.”
The archduke nodded, shooting a final glance in your direction before he strutted off like he owned the place. Mamzell Amira’s eyes found yours.
“Thank you,” she said.
You walked away from her without a response.
Dunk the plate, wash it, dry it, stack it. Everything went back to normal in the following weeks. Except it didn’t. Nothing was back to normal. You’d lost your trust in Mamzell Amira, in your colleagues…and you’d lost what you’d been meaning to keep for someone special.
Gortash was special, there was no denying that. But the love of your life? Hardly. Amira didn’t mention again what you had done for her but she also didn’t ask you to do it again with another customer. After a few days, it almost felt like it never happened. Like it was all a dream. A nightmare—or a very twisted and yet exciting sex dream. Perhaps until today.
“Mamzell Amira wishes to speak to you.” It was one of the drow who stuck their head through the gap in the door with a sweet smile. You sighed, dried your hands quickly and abandoned the dirty plates in the sink.
The shit-eating grin on her face when you approached the counter was unsettling, to say the least.
“You will not believe the news I have.”
Your heart sank. Was Gortash coming back? Did he want…you…again?
“I’m shivering with anticipation,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice like venom.
“Watch your tongue, girl. Now. Lord Gortash has requested you to join him in Wyrm’s Rock. I can hardly blame him. The man is busy—that way, it won’t be necessary for him to make the journey.”
“What in the hells is that supposed to mean?”
Mamzell Amira rolled her eyes. “It means you are to pack your things. You will be staying with the archduke from today on.”
“You…you have no right to do that. I am not your slave. I am a contracted waitress!”
“I may not. But Lord Gortash certainly does. Now pack your things. There is a Steel Watcher outside waiting to escort you.”
You clenched your fists. “And if I refuse?”
Mamzell Amira narrowed her eyes. “Refuse and I will not take you back. I can only imagine the consequences you will face if you tell Lord Gortash you are not interested in his generous offer.”
“Generous?” You shrieked.
“Lord Gortash is requesting your presence at Wyrm’s Rock.” The Steel Watcher spoke your name, repeating the order over and over again. It didn’t quite fit through the door but its robotic voice could be heard a little too well regardless.
Fuck. Mamzell Amira had a point, of course. You would lose regardless of what option you chose. And if Lord Gortash truly did worship Bane as you suspected…you bit your lower lip. Starvation, hypothermia or death by the archduke, one that would never see the light of day…none of these options sounded very appealing to you.
And against all reason…you had enjoyed his company. His touch, his lips, his skilled fingers…his cock…
“Fine. I’ll go get my things.”
Mamzell Amira nodded.
“Lord Gortash is requesting your presence at Wyrm’s Rock” was the last thing you heard as you made your way upstairs and grabbed the other dress you owned, along with a small leather bag containing three gold pieces.
There were no goodbyes, no hugs, no “take care and good luck”. Most of the sex workers were busy with customers and Mamzell Amira, quite apparently, couldn’t give less of a fuck whether she’d just condemned you to the hells.
You followed the Steel Watcher feeling like you were being escorted to your execution, across the massive bridge, past stone walls, curious Fists and citizens and eventually, up a narrow set of stairs leading to Gortash’s office and private chambers.
The Steel Watcher closed the door behind you—heavy wooden doors you knew without trying you’d be unable to open all by yourself.
There he was, smirking at you from his luscious armchair. Your name rolled off his tongue almost pleasantly as he greeted you. You were supposed to bow so you knew, yet your limbs and spine refused to move even an inch. You clutched your bag tighter.
“Was I being unclear? I asked you to take all of your belongings with you. I have no intention of sending you back anytime soon.”
“That’s, um…” You cleared your throat, cursing your embarrassment. “…that’s all I own. My lord.”
“That? Is all you own?” He eyed the bundled-up garments in your hand. Surely you looked as pathetic as you felt.
“Are you telling me you own only two dresses?”
It was a hand-me-down from one of the prostitutes who no longer fit in it. Hence, it was a lot more revealing than you would have liked. The one you wore was plain, the fabric stained and worn-out toward the bottom.
“Yes.”
“Hmm…we shall rectify that. I’ll have someone sent to Figaro to retrieve some. As my concubine, you should look the part.”
You blinked. “What did you say?”
Gortash’s eyes met yours, amusement glistening in his.
“C-Concubine?”
“Why else did you think I’d send for you? To discuss political matters?” He chuckled. You weren’t quite sure why but it had you seethe.
“Mamzell Amira made quite a generous offer,” he explained.
“Which is?”
“You. In exchange for a lowered tax rate for the brothel.”
“T-that’s it? She…she didn’t even ask for payment for me?”
Gortash tilted his head and chuckled yet again. “Did you think you’d fetch a hefty sum? She did tell me she picked you up from the streets. Clearly, she must have thought your loss wouldn’t affect her business much.”
He might as well have reached for a dagger and plunged it deep into your heart. Tears pricked at your eyes, worsening your sight. You blinked them away frantically, unwilling to show weakness in front of him.
“Now, now…surely Mamzell Amira had only your best interests in mind when she sold you off. After all, I live a very wealthy life here in Wyrm’s Rock. First, we can get you some nice jewellery to wear.”
“I don’t care about jewellery.”
“Then what do you care about?”
“Bodily autonomy,” you murmured.
“What was that?” When you didn’t repeat yourself, he continued. “You are free to go if that is what you’re implying. But I think we both know what your alternative is.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not? A shame.” Only he did not sound regretful at all.
“You expect me to let you fuck me whenever you please but you won’t pay me because I was a gift from the brothel! Are you even listening to yourself?”
“You are getting paid. You’ll have a bed, warm meals, clean garments…and my protection on top of that.”
“So I am nothing more than a slave in a golden cage.”
“If that is what you would like to call it, then by all means. I have business to tend to now. When I return, I expect you to have bathed. And—do throw away those hideous dresses.”
He moved toward the door but before he left, he turned around again.
“I will treat you well, dear. I can promise you that.”
“How much weight does a promise hold these days? The previous one got me into this situation in the first place.”
“I am a man of my word. I have no reason to lie to you. All I ask in return is that you behave. You can do that, hmm?”
He smirked, his expression playful. He left before you could utter another word.
Fine. You’d play his game. And may the gods help you, you will win.
#gortash x reader#gortash x tav#gortash x you#gortash imagine#gortash smut#lord gortash#gortash#lord gortash imagine#lord gortash x you#lord gortash x reader#lord gortash smut#lord enver gortash#lord enver gortash imagine#lord enver gortash x you#lord enver gortash x reader#lord enver gortash smut#enver gortash#enver gortash imagine#enver gortash x you#enver gortash x reader#enver gortash smut#enver gortash x tav#lord enver gortash x tav#baldurs gate 3#bg3#jason isaacs#baldurs gate 3 imagine
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Getaway - Part Two
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: It's the morning after. Will Jessie finally get her wish or is she just fooling herself?
A/N: Shy, awkward Jessie meets angsty, sulking Jessie. Fluff with a bit of angst. No other warnings. Final part of this series.
Despite her intentions, sleep evaded Jessie as her mind raced with reflections of the night. In time she admitted defeat and upon hearing rustling in the adjacent rooms, a sign that Niamh was getting up, Jessie head downstairs to start making breakfast. It was going to be a long day.
The girls were gathered around the kitchen table mid-breakfast and chatting idly when you eventually appeared. Even with how preoccupied Jessie had been with analysis of last night and attempts to figure out how to navigate things, she didn't feel prepared. Her pulse immediately quickened, and she averted her gaze the moment you two locked eyes. She relaxed her shoulders in an attempt to collect herself.
“Morning, sunshine," Niamh called. "How'd you sleep?"
"Morning, starshine," you returned with a teasing wink at your friend. "I slept great, thanks. How about all of you?" You responded as you sat down and began to load food onto your plate.
While conversation had ensued, Jessie had snuck over to the kitchen and returned to set down a cup of coffee in front of you with zero fanfare, still avoiding eye contact. Your gaze followed her as she scurried walked back over to her spot at the other end of the table.
"Oh my gosh, thank you, Jessie. I need coffee so bad right now," you said. She merely offered a tight smile as she returned her attention to her phone and the last sips of her coffee. She sunk into her chair a bit as she tried hard to ignore your eyes upon her.
"Where's my refill?" Niamh ribbed, drawing a glare from Jessie.
"Oh yeah. That'd be a slippery slope, soon I'd be doing everything," she said with a short laugh and hoped the topic would get dropped. "Besides, Y/N's our guest."
In a stark contrast to sleeping up against you a mere hours ago, Jessie now felt awkward and unsure. She resolutely avoided eye contact with you throughout all of breakfast, only now and then catching your watchful eye before immediately glancing away and busying herself otherwise.
When everyone cleaned up and headed upstairs to get ready, Jessie remained solely focused on not interacting and retreated to her room. She closed the door behind her and exhaled wearily. She had to figure out what to do because this just wasn't going to fly. She was about to start gathering items for the day when a knock came at the door. She swallowed nervously, feeling her pulse pick-up as she eyed the door.
"Come in," she said. She swallowed once more as you stepped inside, closing the door again behind you.
"Hey, I just-"
"Hey, I'm so sorry about last night." Jessie found herself talking over you, a rush of words spewing from her mouth as her nerves overwhelmed her. "I didn't mean to overstay my welcome – I didn't even realize I fell asleep. And I hope you know I really didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." She nearly needed to take a breath at the end. To her surprise, you offered a hint of a wry smile.
"I was actually going to thank you for keeping me company last night. And no, I wasn't uncomfortable at all. Seriously." You looked away with a slight shrug. "If anything, I was a little surprised to find my bed empty first thing this morning. I didn't expect that kind of thing from you."
"Oh, I-" Jessie began to stammer, cut off by you laughing and waving a hand in dismissal.
"I'm kidding. I'm just giving you a hard time." The heavy blush on Jessie's cheeks was blatant and you smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"I wouldn’t do that," Jessie clarified, her voice higher than usual as she looked distractedly to the corner of the room with a shrug of her own. "I just," she forced herself to look back at you, "I didn't know you wanted me to stay."
At this, you smiled and took a step forward, nearly causing Jessie's breath to catch.
"You are always welcome to stay. But anyway, I wanted to thank you for last night in general. I really enjoyed all of it." Jessie nodded and smiled back.
"Yeah, me too."
"I hear we're taking Vespas to this spot this morning. Can I ride with you?" You asked with a slight tilt of your head. Another blush flared out across Jessie's cheeks as she stumbled through her reply.
"Yeah, I'd love that. I mean, of course you can – I don't mind." She hid her hands behind her back as if that would make her appear more casual.
"Okay, great," you said with a nod and a lingering smile. If Jessie wasn't mistaken, you gave her a brief once over. "You'll take care of me, right?" A bright grin crossed your face; it was teasing, but it was warm and affectionate.
"Y-yeah, of course. I will," Jessie replied, doing her best to stay composed, shoulders back.
"I know," you said. "I trust you. Okay, well I'll see you downstairs." You closed out your sentence with a gentle squeeze of Jessie's arm before you turned and left.
Jessie finished getting ready, but she felt shaky and dizzy – in a great way – from the interaction you just had. She grabbed her sunglasses and hat and tossed them into her bag as a fleeting insecurity crossed her mind – what if 'company' was really all she was? That you were just lonely now that you were single. Her thoughts continued to spiral until she paused and closed her eyes, doing her best to push down those feelings; they wouldn't do her any good.
When Jessie trotted downstairs, it was just her and Niamh.
"So, late night, huh?" Niamh said with a smirk tugging at her lips. "Y/N told me you were both up super late talking in her room. Which you neglected to mention..."
"It's not a big deal," Jessie dismissed with an unconvincing frown as she crossed her arms.
"Mhm," Niamh voiced as she gave the brunette a light nudge. She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. "Just tell her you like her! She's single now!"
"I-I don't like her," Jessie protested, trying to look aghast in her denial.
"Oh my God." Niamh rolled her eyes. "I've been letting you get away with hiding it for so long because, well yeah, Y/N was off the market. But she's not anymore. So make a move!"
Jessie stared at her friend for several moments as her mind processed what to do. She eventually relented.
"Yeah, but, she just got out of a long-term relationship. She's probably not ready for anything and – you know, we're friends. I don’t want to ruin that," Jessie responded, glancing back over her shoulder now and then to ensure no one was approaching. Despite being caught off guard by this conversation, a huge weight suddenly felt lifted from her shoulders at finally being able to admit to someone that she liked you.
"Just tell her. Please. It's killing me seeing you dance around her the way you do," the defender complained.
"I don't," Jessie pouted.
"Oh, you do," Niamh retorted, leaning in pointedly. "Like a love-sick puppy."
"Shut up," Jessie complained, whined even. She jumped as footsteps came from the stairs.
"Alright, we're ready," Zee said as you both jogged down the steps. Jessie nearly rolled her eyes at herself with how she went up on her tiptoes momentarily, smiled brightly and even offered a lame wave at you as you came up. Jessie blushed at the laugh that came from Niamh.
"Ready to go?" Jessie interjected, as she hastily ushered everyone outside.
Soon you all reached the rental spot, squared everything away and were ready to hit the road.
Nervous, excited energy started creeping up in Jessie again as the agent left you all to your bikes. She idly played with the helmet in her hands and worked up the courage to turn to you.
“You still good to ride with me?” She asked as nonchalantly as she could. You nodded.
“I am. If you’re still good with it too.”
I’ve been thinking about nothing but that.
“Yeah, all good,” she played off.
She set her helmet over the handle bars and reached for the one in your hand.
“Safety first,” she said as she gently placed the helmet on your head. She bit back a pleased smile as you began to blush. It gave Jessie a confidence boost. “I told you I’d take care of you, after all.” She closed the clasp and tightened the straps a touch. She finished by brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “You’re all set. Feel okay?”
“Yeah, thank you,” you answered, a blush still lingering on your cheeks with a coy smile. It felt nice to Jessie that for once you were the one being shy.
Soon Jessie mounted the bike and got settled before shuffling forward a bit on the seat.
“Okay, hop on," she instructed.
The charm and bravado she had a few minutes prior was quickly quashed by nerves in anticipation of you straddling the seat behind her.
An immediate warmth went through Jessie as you placed a hand gingerly on her shoulder to steady yourself as you got on. She swallowed inaudibly as you settled in. Although you sat closely behind her, contact was minimal.
“You might need to hold on,” Jessie suggested. It wasn’t even a lie.
She watched out of the corner of her eye as you looked around, seemingly contemplating your options.
“I think that means I need to put my arms around you. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah, that’s totally fine.”
Jessie had to stifle the way she nearly cleared her throat as your hands came around her torso, clasping your hands together to enclose your arms around her and shuffling in slightly, now brushing against her back.
“Is this okay?” You asked.
Jessie was grateful that she had the helmet on and could face forward because her face had to be beet red.
“Yeah, it’s perfect.” Perfect? Jessie nearly groaned. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
You tightened your grip slightly. “I’m good.”
Jessie bit her bottom lip, hard, as she suffocated the noise that bubbled up her throat as a small, adorable squeak escaped you and you tightened your gripped significantly on her as you started to drive.
“I’m sorry,” you said over the sound of the bike as you relaxed your grip a touch.
“Don’t worry,” Jessie called back. “Hold on as tight as you like. I don’t mind.” A smile tugged at her lips as your arms enclosed a bit tighter again.
Jessie navigated you through traffic. You chatted and joked at red lights and even though your journey just started, she already didn’t want it to end. Her jaw clenched as she struggled to remain composed as you rest your chin on her shoulder at one particular stop. It took every once of control for her to not place her hand on yours and lean back into you.
Soon you were jetting down a scenic highway and Jessie couldn’t have been much happier. She was surrounded by incredible sights, she was outdoors, and there was the small fact that the girl she loved had her arms wrapped around her as you enjoyed all of this together.
After you reached your destination and parked your bikes, you all took your belongings and began to walk around the area. Niamh and Zee naturally paired up and wandered ahead while Jessie and you hung back on your own. Jessie wasn't about to complain.
At one point, you both stopped along the shoreline and were just looking out at the ocean waves. Jessie adjusted the hat she'd brought with her and tucked her hands into her pockets as she watched the rhythmic push and pull of the water. Though you were wearing sunglasses, it was still bright enough out that you held a hand above your eyes to further shield the sun.
"Do you have a hat?" Jessie asked as she nodded to the bag hanging over your shoulders.
You turned your head to Jessie, forehead creased in a squint. "No. Not yet."
Suddenly, your hand flew up and Jessie felt her hat being plucked off her head. She didn't even have time to process, she just instinctively ran after you who was a few paces ahead, laughing and placing the hat onto your head as you ran. It only took Jessie a few quick strides to catch up to you though and found herself wrapping her arms around you to hold you in place. You squealed with a laugh, and turned in Jessie's arms, your bodies close enough that your hands came up to rest on top of Jessie's shoulders.
"I'm not sure what reality I thought I was in where I'd be able to outrun you," you joked, your cheeks flushed pink. Jessie smiled, belatedly realizing that she still had her arms around you.
"You know what? The hat looks better on you anyway," she replied as she finally let go and took a step back.
"I'm just kidding," you said as you started to take it off. Jessie reached out, hand resting on top of yours and keeping you from removing the hat.
"Seriously. Go ahead - you should wear it," Jessie continued. Your blush deepened as a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.
"Okay. If you insist," you accepted.
You two continued to idly talk and wander around, eventually catching up to Niamh and Zee. You stopped by shops, checked out landmarks, and all the while Jessie was on cloud nine. Her heart fluttered in her chest as you would stop now and then to request a selfie together - something Jessie would normally adamantly avoid, but things were different with you. And, of course, if Zee ever caught you taking a selfie, she'd stop and take a picture of you together instead. While it worked Jessie up, feeling under the microscope, those thoughts were quickly pushed from her mind whenever she felt your arm around her waist.
The day went by with moments of a lingering stare, a blush, a fleeting touch, and the odd teasing look from Niamh who watched on. When you all drove back to town it wasn’t even a question if you would ride with Jessie again and you settled into one another easily this time. If someone asked Jessie, it wasn’t just you holding on, it felt like an embrace this time. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if you two were actually together. Even if nothing came to be though, Jessie was resolute that this memory would be one she’d cherish no matter what.
When you got back into town, you walked over to a local pub to grab a late dinner. Your group took up a table towards the back of the establishment, Jessie and you taking the bench seat and sitting close enough that your legs brushed up against one another's. Jessie's faced heated up once again as she spied the smirk on Niamh's face.
"Uh, what are you going to get?" Jessie asked as she absently ran her fingers through her hair and sat up a bit to peer over at your menu as if she didn't have her own right in front of her.
"I don't know - this sandwich looks pretty good, but I'm not that hungry either," you replied, turning your head towards her.
"Oh yeah, I was looking at that too. Want to share? I'm not super hungry either," Jessie offered. She shot a dark look at Niamh who snickered from across the table.
"Something funny, Niamhie?" You asked seemingly innocently as you smiled at her.
"Nothing, love," Niamh responded with a gentle smile and returned her attention to her menu.
The night carried on and at some point Niamh and Zee found themselves at the bar chatting with a couple other tourists, leaving you and Jessie on your own.
At one point, your phones buzzed at the same time - you frowned at one another and you retrieved your phone to see what it was. After a moment you laughed and turned to look at Zee across the bar who immediately started laughing as well, obviously waiting for the two of you to react.
"Zee's been busy," you explained as you held up your phone for Jessie to see the post of the two of you looking rather cozy together and posing earlier in the day; you in Jessie's hat and all.
"Oh," Jessie commented, at a bit of a loss for words, more distracted by the butterflies in her stomach instead.
You tucked your phone away and you two continued to talk until your phone began to buzz again. Jessie didn't think much of it and you ignored it, but it soon buzzed again and you rolled your eyes, retrieving it once more.
Jessie wasn't intentionally trying to spy, but her eyes were drawn to your screen and she couldn't help but notice the name attached to the messages - your ex.
Jessie now watched intently out of the corner of her eye as you quickly flipped through the messages before exhaling heavily and sitting back against the bench.
A few awkward moments passed, neither of you speaking until Jessie's curiosity got the better of her.
"Everything good?" She tried to ask nonchalantly.
"Yeah. It's fine," you responded in a flat tone. Jessie watched as you studied the table with arms folded against your chest, deep in thought. You then suddenly seemed to become aware of Jessie's eyes on you and sat up, plastering a tight smile on your face. "Can I grab you a drink?"
"No, I'm alright, thanks," Jessie replied, her own tone now taking a dip at the turn in your interaction.
She watched silently as you stood and walked over to the bar, pulling Niamh aside. Jessie tried desperately to somehow discern what you were saying, but you two were leaned in speaking to one another so Jessie couldn't even try to lip read. Regardless, the light and playful mannerisms you had before were long gone. And so were Jessie's.
She should have known. This was all too good to be true. Jessie slumped in her seat and distractedly swirled what remained of her water. She didn't know what was going on, but it upset her either way. She felt stupid for letting herself get her hopes up and for thinking that this could be anything more. She should've just stuck to the original plan - friends and nothing more. She tried to ignore the way the corner of her eyes started to burn, but the sensation didn't go away. When she found her gaze drawn back to you, still with Niamh and on your phone again, the feeling got worse. She stood up abruptly, jostling the table as she did so, and quickly walked outside. She needed some air and she'd be damned if she started crying in the middle of the pub for all to see.
She paced back and forth on the sidewalk, fists buried in her pockets as she ground her teeth together and tried to regain control of her emotions. The logical side of her brain tried to reason with her and tell herself that she didn't even know what was going on - there was nothing to jump to conclusions about. However, that side of her was getting drowned out by the pent up feelings that had been brewing for months on end and that she'd foolishly begun to uncap the past couple of days. Serves her right, she thought ruefully.
Jessie wasn't sure how much time had passed until she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She wanted to ignore it, but couldn't resist pulling it out to check. It was you.
Where did you go? Are you okay?
Jessie let out a shaky sigh and stilled her movements. She took a deep breath and committed herself to going back in. She was hopeful that she appeared calm and normal again.
When she stepped inside she saw you'd returned to the table. It only took a moment for you to spot Jessie and you sat up and greeted her with smiled at her.
Jessie took a breath and approached, sitting down again on the bench, but this time leaving a bit of space.
"Are you alright?" You asked, watching Jessie intently.
"Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get some air. Everything good with you?" Jessie returned, offering you a fleeting glance before fixating on her glass.
"Yeah, I'm good," you responded lightly. And truthfully, you did seem better than before. Jessie waited for you to elaborate, but instead you nodded towards Zee and Niamh. "Those two seem to be having a good time," you redirected with an amused laugh.
"Yeah," Jessie agreed as she slumped further in her seat.
The conversation between you, for the first time in a very long time, was jilted and awkward, perhaps increasingly more so by the time you were all walking back to the villa. In fact, Jessie's mood was so foul by the time you were heading back that she was straggling at the back on her own in silence. She determinedly ignored the odd glance you shot over your shoulder at her.
When you arrived back at the villa, Niamh and Zee wanted to sit around the firepit and hang out, but Jessie wasn't interested. She noted how you watched her as the girls asked her to stay downstairs for a drink, but it wasn't enough to compel her. Instead, she retreated to her room. She knew she was being a downer, but she couldn't be bothered to care right now. She knew she'd probably be embarrassed by her behaviour later and find herself making a round of apologies, but she just needed to be alone.
She was laying on the bed, still in her street clothes, when the door swung open sometime later. She sat up quickly, an irritated frown on her face before she rolled her eyes realizing it was just Niamh. She laid back down.
"What's going on?" Niamh asked as she closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"You tell me," Jessie retorted before taking it down a notch. She sighed, sitting up and offering her friend a fleeting look of apology. "Y/N's ex was texting her. Do you know what that was about?"
Now it was Niamh's turn to roll her eyes. "Yes. [Y/Ex] saw the post Zee put up of you two. And let's just say she wasn't pleased."
"Huh?" Jessie asked with a deep frown.
"You're being moody and angsty over nothing. I suggest you talk to Y/N. If she's not too pissed at you for sulking when you should've been consistent and supportive," Niamh said lightly, but still with an unmistakable pointedness.
"She's pissed?" Jessie asked, guilt now sweeping over her.
"No. But she's worried you're mad at her. Personally, I think she's being too soft on you," Niamh teased.
Jessie scratched her head as she contemplated the situation she created for herself. She sighed and Niamh went on.
"Zee's gone to bed and I’m going too. Y/N's still downstairs if you want to talk to her. As in, get your stubborn ass down there. And don't talk in circles. Just be direct."
Jessie grumbled lightly, but got up. This is why she didn't do relationships. They always just complicated things and people got hurt even if that wasn't anyone's intention. She was jolted from her thoughts as Niamh slapped her hard on the back, sending her stumbling a couple of steps.
"You can thank me later," Niamh said with a wink.
Jessie wandered over to the window and peered down. Sure enough, you were sitting outside at the firepit sipping some tea. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jessie padded lightly down the steps and out to the back patio. Her chest tightened nervously as your gaze was pulled from the fire up to her.
"Hi," Jessie greeted timidly giving a feeble wave. "Mind if I join you?"
"Go ahead," you said as you gestured to the seat across from you, same as you two were situated last night. "Feeling better?" Jessie detected no malice in your voice.
"Yeah, thanks," Jessie replied, a hand nervously coming up to scratch the back of her head. "Um, I'm sorry about earlier. I was…in my head, and I'm sorry."
"It's okay," you accepted. "Happens to all of us." A few beats passed and you spoke again. "And I can't help but think that I caused it anyway."
A blush formed on Jessie's cheeks as she felt under scrutiny. She looked into the flames and gave a shrug. "Oh, no. It's not your fault."
You quirked a crooked smile at Jessie. "I don't know. I'm pretty sure I got a little out of sorts first and that set things off."
Jessie contemplated how to proceed. Now was as good a time as any - she dove right in.
"When [Y/Ex] texted you, right?" She watched for your reaction, noting the slight raise in your eyebrows. "I didn't mean to see - I saw her messages come up before I could look away. I'm sorry."
A heavy sigh escaped you and you sunk into your seat a bit.
"That's fine," you finally said. "And yeah - you're right."
Jessie did her best to not read into the lack of explanation. She normally would interpret this as you being cagey, which would then cause her to bottle up, but Niamh was right - she needed to be more direct. And if she wanted something with you, she needed to be more open.
"You know you can talk to me about it," Jessie offered gently. "I know I've never really talked with you much about your relationship with her. And that isn't great of me - makes me not such a good friend. But I hope you know I'm here for you above anything else. I'm sorry I acted the way I did earlier. I got upset when I shouldn't have instead of being supportive." She went on quickly. "So, even though you have Niamh - please know you can talk to me, too. Even if it seems like you can't."
You rubbed your eyes tiredly, pulling a frown out of Jessie.
"Well, frankly, that's difficult when you're part of the problem," you eventually replied with a weary sigh. Jessie's pulse quickened immediately and her stomach dropped.
"I'm sorry?"
You sat forward, leaning your arms on the top of your legs. You rest your head in your hands for a moment before looking over at Jessie.
"Can I ask why those texts upset you?"
Jessie swallowed and she tried to ignore how she could practically hear her blood coursing through her veins.
"Um. Yeah," she responded, hoping her voice wasn't as shaky as it seemed in her head. She pushed the palms of her hands out along her pants, trying to get some of the sweat off of them. "I, um, well we were having a really great day. And I guess when I saw her messages come through. I…," she trailed off before steeling herself with a quick breath, now raising her gaze to meet yours. "I got jealous."
She kept her eyes trained on you, watching for any indication of how you felt about this confession. Eventually, you let out a small laugh and sat back. Jessie studied you with a frown and worked hard to not feel offended by the gesture.
"Well, I guess that's the theme of the day," you eventually said with a smirk. You stood and Jessie felt her palms continuing to sweat as you made your way around the firepit to sit in the chair next to hers. You turned so your knees were pointed towards Jessie and was mostly facing her. "[Y/Ex] saw Zee's post of us, and, well, it didn't go over well."
Jessie sat silently. Her mind raced as she tried to anticipate what would happen next. You went on.
"She and I haven't really talked since the breakup. Which is totally fine - the breakup was civil and I don't really believe in being friends after, but yeah, the post fired her up a bit." You took a quick breath. "She saw the post of us, and she made a few accusations. And I couldn't even be angry about it, because, she had a point."
Jessie shifted in her chair, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety hanging over her.
"I told you yesterday that [Y/Ex] and I broke up because I didn't feel for her what I should have. And that was true." You took another breath, averting your gaze briefly before meeting Jessie's again. "The part I didn't tell you is that I realized my feelings for her weren't what they should be because I was feeling that way for you instead." You dropped her gaze. "I was ignoring it for a while, but it got to the point where I couldn't play it off as some passing thing. I would've been stringing her along if I didn't end things."
Jessie's words were caught in her throat as she struggled to process the things you just said. She swallowed, blinking several times as you turned back to her.
"When we broke up, she flat out asked me if it had something to do with you." You laughed wryly. "That's how bad things were getting. Anyway, I told her it didn’t. I didn’t see the point in bringing it up or hurting her in that way - plus you and I have clearly never spoken about any of this. Anyway, when she saw that picture of us…she had some choice words for me. And not all of them untrue.”
Jessie sat their shell-shocked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. You liked her? In fact, to the point where it actually interfered with her past relationship? She was so puzzled and unsure of how all of that could be.
“I need you to know that none of this is on you," you went on adamantly. "You didn’t do anything to cause my breakup. You were always very respectful and no lines were ever crossed. But I think that’s just it - you didn’t even have to try and I started falling for you.”
“Y/N-”
“I’m almost done. I swear. So, yes, I was upset earlier when I got her messages. Because she wasn’t wrong - I made her believe things ended because I just wasn’t in love with her. But I was protecting myself from feeling guilty more than preserving her feelings. And the worst part is that while she’s seeing this post of you and me and making all kinds of assumptions, including that I was seeing you behind her back months ago, I was feeling excited at just the notion of you and I together. So, yeah, I felt horrible and conflicted and I couldn’t talk to you about it, because well, you were involved.” You scratched your arm nervously. “Still are. Anyway, I didn’t mean to upset you. Or drag you into any of this. But um, I guess my omissions or white lies are hurting people regardless. So, now you know. I’m sorry.”
Jessie shook her head in a bit of a daze.
“What are you sorry for?” She asked, her voice a bit thin as she continued to process things.
“I just dumped a lot on you. And you didn’t ask for any of it. So I'm sorry. And I really hope we can still be friends.”
“What if I don’t want to be friends?” Jessie asked, resisting a smile that tugged at her mouth. She saw the worry flash across your face and she mercifully went on. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you more or less since I met you. And they've never gone away.” The lop-sided smile revealed itself at the way you now looked at her. Jessie blushed a bit and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. “And, yeah, I got jealous tonight. Which I know isn’t good. But, I finally felt for a moment like maybe we could be something more and then your ex came up. I felt like I lost my chance before it even began.”
You smiled softly at her. “Not at all. I’m still very much interested. If you are. I know you said yesterday your schedule makes it too hard to date, so, if that’s a dealbreaker for you, I can understand.”
Jessie shook her head quickly, eyebrows raised high. “No! Not at all. I was just trying to deflect,” she admitted bashfully. She scratched the back of her neck. “I was just making up an excuse for why I wasn’t dating. I couldn’t very well admit that it was because I was pining for you,” she finished with a dry laugh.
You nudged forward in your chair, knees coming closer to Jessie’s, but not able to quite touch.
“I really had no idea,” you said, a bit of a smile of wonderment on her face. “I mean…there were moments during our friendship where I was hopeful, but I couldn’t let myself think too much about it either. And I meant it when I said you’re one of the sweetest people I know, which I adore about you, but it also makes it hard to know if you’re treating me differently than anyone else.” You finished with a laugh.
“And I was trying really hard to not act differently with you at all before you and [Y/ex] broke up. I guess it’s really only been the last little bit, especially this weekend, where I’ve felt like I could even begin to entertain the thought of anything more,” Jessie explained and you nodded.
“So,” you said slowly and inched closer, “you’re saying your schedule isn’t a dealbreaker, then?”
“Not unless it is for you,” Jessie answered, shifting in her chair to meet you, your legs now touching.
“Even if your schedule's crazy, if she’s the right one for you…,” you trailed off, prompting Jessie to finish.
“She'll understand and it’ll make the times you’re together that much sweeter.”
“Exactly,” you confirmed as you reached out and grasped Jessie’s hand. She readily took it, a lump forming immediately in her throat as her heart began to race. She sat on the very edge of her seat and swallowed her nervousness.
“So, how do you feel about dinner and drinks when we get back to town?” Jessie asked, eyes hopeful.
“Are you asking me on a date, Jessie?” You teased warmly.
Jessie smiled wide and nodded. “I am. Finally.”
The next thing she knew, you leaned in and the moment Jessie had dreamt of for so long was upon her. She closed her eyes and the space between you. She nearly lost her breath the moment your soft lips were upon hers.
You stayed like that for a few moments before you deepened the kiss, which she readily returned. Jessie wasn’t sure how much time passed until you broke apart.
“And that’s a ‘yes’, for the record,” you added. Jessie chuckled softly and leaned in to kiss you once more, a rush of butterflies going through her.
“I was hoping so."
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jflem#woso x reader#woso#woso community#chelsea wfc#canwnt#woso imagine
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Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader
Summary: Spending more time with the miserable Mr. Snow, against your will, only proves to you exactly why he is a man you have sworn to loathe for all eternity. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3
Notes: so happy you all loved the first part — so i guess i’m continuing ahaha. as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated! also, feel free to lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3
two
The mist of September’s end and October’s greeting is a thick, heavy blanket in the air. You only scowl at it as you pick up your tiered skirt from where it drags against emerald moss and dirt. A storm is nearby.
You would melt into this very soil if you could. Become one with the lilacs and peonies if it meant you’d never be prevailed upon to marry again by the force of your mother.
Mama is unwell. As always but, with more fervor now. The dance was most successful for Jane. She and Sejanus have been exchanging kind letters with pomegranate stained kisses garnishing the print. Even so, mama is viciously unhappy.
The cherrywood cabinets slam louder when you pass, and her eyes narrow at any mention of the gathering. Perhaps your behavior was a great embarrassment for her. If only you were as divine as Jane.
The house is lively, far too lively for your liking at this settling hour. Sisters here and sisters there. They busy themselves with the grand piano and awful singing. It isn’t long until one of the twins rushes forward with a sealed envelope clasped tightly in hand.
“Mama! It is for Jane!”
You snatch the paper from her palm, worrisome that she will ruin it with how tightly she squeezes. Beyond this, you are most eager to see the development in your own personal romance novel starring your dearest sister. Mama slaps your hand away in turn, tugging it back into a monstrous grasp that nearly shreds it to minuscule little pieces.
You see the breath halt and dwell comfortably in her throat, unwilling to part or falter. This is most important to her, trivial matter as it is.
So long as Jane is happy…
You gaze on at the girl with petal-pink cheeks and bright eyes — her smile is a thing of beauty and joy at the mere idea that Sejanus Plinth could admire her.
“Mama! What does it say!”
Her hands tremble like hummingbirds now, and your frown stitches itself promptly upon your pretty face. Oh no, he is certain to have changed his mind.
At least he was kind and gentleman enough to inform dear Jane by letter.
That joy, excitement and eagerness once swimming within your mother’s eyes has dissipated to sheer horror.
“When did we receive this?” She whispers, a ghastly and terror laced sound.
“This morning!” One of the twins happily offers, twirling her chocolate ringlet tight enough to knot.
Mama cries out a sound of agony, shoving the paper hard against Jane’s chest — enough so that she stumbles. She is a frantic thing, running round your quaint living space like that of a farm animal who has lost its head.
You are fueled by your own confusion, constricting your mind to only wait upon Jane. She shakily reads the crumbled thing — hesitance becoming her. Her eyes shift then; a look of joy, excitement, fear — then dread.
“What is it?” You whisper, watching as mama mutters nonsense and brushes the collection of scattered breadcrumbs from the countertop — eyes wide as the moon aglow at midnight.
“Mr. Plinth and his sister, alongside Mr. Snow and sir Plinth’s dear — rich uncle, have all planned to meet with us this evening. They’ve taken a carriage, and have made arrangements to arrive by sundown.”
Four pairs of eyes, in perfected unison, glance into the grassy plains where the sun has begun to set.
You do not intend to giggle at the irony, perhaps it is a thing fueled by nerves just as your mother. Yet it floats from your sweet lips like a prayer, slender fingers rushing to suffocate it.
It is undeniably numerous, however. How could it be anything but?
The way your dearest blood all melts at the brim for the gaze of three men whom are only important by cold silver is a thing of great mystery to you, something you do not understand. It is not just mama and Jane and the entirety of your own family however. No, it is all of society. You only wonder what it would be like for a woman to reach beyond the horizon line — to be great. To not be forced upon a man of all creatures to be of true importance.
Mama rushes past, so quickly your hair becomes unruly. She presses her palms firmly against your cheeks — your face piecing together like a swift minnow from the nearby fish pond.
“Oh heavens — if you do even the littlest act so to embarrass me, I am certain to die of great illness. My nerves are far too weak, you must behave for me! Be as sweet Jane is. Sir Plinth’s uncle is of the richest gentleman in Newbury, 5,000 a year! You must converse with him, do it for your dearest mother. Oh! And brush that wild hair from your face, girl. He will think you to be a witch — keep guard at the window.”
Her words are a tangled, knotted mess of all the things you despise. Even whilst tucked away into a place where you do not truly listen, you know well she is asking you to be social for gain of a husband.
You frown, grateful when the headless chicken runs off from you again. Your hand fussses with the wisps rested amongst your forehead — and you obey mama’s orders by sauntering to the creaky old chair that faces the fogged front window.
The fog is a veil, a curtain hiding from you only dread. You are grateful for it now, though it does no good for your locks and tresses. Your eyes dart to the torn book beside you — and you consider disobedience as an alternative to this state. You know well what will happen if you stray, so you do not dare it.
It is an awfully timely and punctual arrival — perhaps ten ticks of the grand, tower clock before the stallion’s snouts peek through the fog. Just as the golden halo sets beyond them.
“Mama!”
You call, but she only waves you away with a busy hand as she continues fussing with the knit table mat. You will not bother it again. You shrink, hiding all but curious eyes behind the lace curtain.
Sejanus is grinning, nervously you think. Then the scowling sister, a small, old creature with a sunken gaze — and the miserable one. They approach, you sink further.
“God Sejanus, smile any more for the poor thing and your pockets will start betraying you.” Grace sneers, voice sewn tightly with disgust at the less fortunate situation your family finds themselves in, glancing around at the quaint, pathetic home. It is as if she believes one breath of hers will cause it to collapse to the soil — to her polished feet.
“Please Grace, she is the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Oh, uncle, her eldest sister is very agreeable as well. Don’t you agree, Snow?”
Oh, he’s asked the cold thing who’s far too proud and rich for a humble party. You’re curious.
“Perfectly tolerable, I suppose. But not pretty enough to tempt me.”
Oh…
Your mischievous, sneaky grin melts into that of a hard line — ample with annoyance. How arrogant of him to say. As if his blonde locks and blue eyes make him any different than the handsome officers that pass by now and then. As if he is some prize. You scowl, Grace’s laugh an unpleasant sound.
Four hard knocks and you are quickly up to your feet.
Mama rushes to you immediately, slapping your hand enough so that it stings greatly and fades the color crimson.
“You were meant to watch! Places, take your stance girls!”
It takes beyond the greatest force to drag your feet to stand beside Jane. Mama checks each forced position anxiously before she tugs the door open wide — with a horrible, eager grin.
“Welcome!”
They trail the moss and dirt onto your oak floors, not bothering to wipe it away on the torn cloth you call a carpet. No need, they believe. The house is pathetic already as it stands. No dirt shall make it any less worthy than it already is.
In unison, a curtsy of greeting becomes all of you. Prim and proper and perfect just as mother groomed you all to be. For preparation of husbands.
Good god, the blonde looks even more dreadful now. Cold eyes darting to the old, harmless hound that chews on a racket ball. He winces at the sight of dust and chipped oak wood furniture surrounding. He looks down upon this place as if it is beneath him.
He far from belongs here.
“Sit, please sit! I’ve already prepared us supper!” Mama practically pushes Sejanus with most nervous palms, and his shadows follow suite.
Though you dream of running through the open door and fading into the mist to never be found again — you obey; sauntering into the archway with tired eyes and reluctant feet.
“My lady…”
Oh.
The short man with bushy brows and coal colored, untamed locks pulls your seat back enough so that you may sit upon it. To your dismay, the miserable one takes place in front of you. His eyes are cast downward to the far from fine silverware laid before him.
“Thank you sir.” You whisper, the chair feeling as though it is determined to suffocate you the longer you sit upon it.
“Oh, Jane — everybody, please meet my uncle, Mr. Casca Highbottom of Bristol.”
You only nod at the grinning old man, and mama rushes back like a midnight breeze through the archway — setting plates filled to the brim with but all of the food left for the entire month. Even so, it remains poor to a gazing eye. Though it matters not how little garnishes the porcelain, for when you catch gaze of miserable Snow pushing his few peas around in disgust, you cannot help but narrow your sight.
How can he be so proud? Certainly, if a humble gathering invited you in for a warm meal in this awful mist — you’d be most grateful for even a singular pea on your plate. Let alone twelve.
Grace laughs at the sight of Snow displeased — placing a soft palm against his knee beneath the cherrywood table. He spares her laugh a glance, and his lip twitches in what appears to be an amused smile. They talk lowly to each other, you notice it from where you peer behind your glass. She must be fond of him what with the way she touches him and leans closer with each word he speaks. You cannot possibly imagine why. Perhaps they are just alike. Rich, rude things.
“So — I dare ask if any suitors captured your heart at the party then?” Grace, she speaks to you now. You snort, ready to offer words of disdain and disgust toward the lot of men and their sweaty palms. Your mother’s cold glare silences you.
“No… they did not.” You mutter in quick defeat.
“Hmm, how dreadful…” it is mock sympathy, noticeable to both you and Jane.
Tension thins to a mere string lacing the table together. Silence blanketing even more so than the mist as worn silverware and mama’s embarsssing tangents erupt in painful harmony. You are grateful for Jane who manages to pry her eyes from Sejanus for a single moment so to save you from mama’s disapproving glare at your silence. She is selling you to the short man, it seems. She has been for the entirety of this meal.
“It is not as though gentlemen do not flock to my dear sister…” Jane starts. “It is simply that she is far too preoccupied with her books to notice them. She is an avid reader, adores her novels you see. She possesses great talents because of it!”
You hoped Jane would be so kind as to avert the attention. Yet it remains stable upon you, the available wife — as cattle with clipped ears. You feel as though you are livestock being powdered and pressed for the market. If the short man is buying, you’d rather be butchered.
He is awkward and stout and his jokes are uncomfortable as they are just rude. He is far from a gentleman and all the reason you deny each hand bestowed to you in the first place. For reason of men like him.
“You write?” Snow inquires.
Those cold, devoid eyes are locked upon you — and despite wishing to send him away to never return so you may be free of his arrogance, you only peer up at his gaze through fanned lashes to see them commanding an answer of you. Awaiting one.
“Occasionally, sir.”
His gaze doesn’t falter, nor does the gaze of Mr. Highbottom, even as he presses a boiled potato to his tongue.
“What of?”
What a silly question, you think. What else would a woman of your age and lack quill about?
It baffles you to find him curious. Perhaps he does not wish to seem obviously rude any more so than he simply is — perhaps he is only creating small talk.
“What else, sir? My thoughts and desires, my ideas. Romance — dramatics…”
“Oh but she just despises poetry!” Mama interjects, as if to end the conversation and refocus it upon your eligibility. Even when she speaks, Snow does not spare her a single glance. His eyes, they still rest upon you.
“You do? I thought poetry to be the food of love.”
You dare a snort then, suffocating a fit of laughter with a spoonful of food. You take your time chewing it, only offering more words when you realize that the conversation does not seem to be at its end. No. It cannot be. Not when he looks at you in a such an expectant manner.
“A poet writes of women in the gaze of all men, which I do not believe to be a true show of adoration. Perhaps it is the food of love — if you want to suffocate it. Stone it till it remains no longer.”
His next words come quick, immediately almost. As if he is grasping at the first chance to reply, much to Highbottom’s dismay whom snaps his mouth shut after losing the opportunity. Every eye in attendance is on the both of you.
Do they think you to be an enigma? You wonder…
“What do you recommend then? To encourage affection between two people…”
You do not know why he asks you this, but you can only assume it is because he wishes to embarrass you. Grace’s sharp gaze morphs into that of an amused smirk. Why would he ask the only woman seated what encourages affection when she cannot obtain it on her own?
You are certain then of his intentions. To mock you in front of Plinth’s sister, his uncle. In front of your blood. He does it so subtlety that if you were not bright as you are — you would most certainly miss it. He is a fool, a great fool because miraculously — you can reciprocate.
“Dancing… even if one’s partner is only tolerable.” You almost sneer with a tilt of your head and raise of your sharp brow.
If something truly clicks within him, it is most quickly dissipated. Most tricky to see. Sejanus clears his throat, and Highbottom — rude creature, erupts into a fit of laughter with a mouthful of food. Your mother is nervous, she joins him.
Grace only gasps, and Jane’s soft features are laced with confusion at the thing only you five are lucky enough to understand.
You remain stoic, challenging his eyes and his tense, twitching jaw with proudness.
“Shall I fetch dessert mama?”
Your mother nods through fits of forced laughter, and you take the opportunity to lift upon your feet. The chair scrapes against the creaky panels and nearly topples as you rush into the quaint kitchen and away from him.
It brings you joy knowing that he has nothing further to say.
You are smiling, terribly overflowed with pride as you place canned, sugared peaches upon ten porcelain plates. How proud he must have felt to speak lowly of you, a girl he spared little words to at a party he refrained from dancing at for it was too poor for his liking.
You disliked him then — but a chat with miss Lucy-Gray Baird while passing by in town confirmed all of your prejudice. She claims to have been treated most coldly by him whilst he was courting her. He offered his hand, then fled into midnight when he grew bored of her. Only the next morning.
He is as any other man is. A heartless hound. His behavior in your small home only further proves your prejudice is with more than enough reason.
You take longer than you should selfishly, and when you return — your gaze locks upon Sejanus who is entirely enamored by the sapphire gaze of Jane.
Mama aids you in placing down the plates you juggle. It is a poor dessert, but one that is most delectable.
“Oh well, your daughter is most precious. Funny, too! How uncommon for women.”
“Oh please uncle, we all have our wit. She is just peculiar, I daresay.”
Mama laughs at Grace’s words, and you only offer a polite, tense smile before being seated once again. It is you now that pushes your food around your plate, fading into the mist truly as you remain silent.
They speak of things you care the least bit for — all irrelevant matters to your mind. You are grateful when wine is poured, you nearly inhale it and garner a slap on your hand once again from mama.
You need it to get thought this.
Highbottom and mama speak of you, she tells him lies. How much you wish to be wed, how eager you are to find a lover. All contradictions of Jane’s earlier lick of truth. The rich fool believes her, his eyes cast upon you like poisonous darts. Slowly suffocating you.
Sejanus is preoccupied entirely by Jane — and the miserable one chats lowly with the scowling sister.
“Well, how about some music and dance? Lizzie, off to the piano!”
Your youngest sister lifts — eager to press her hands against the keys. It will be a mediocre melody but one that offers enough sound so to dance. You wish to stay glued to the table as they leave you to the living space — but mama tugs at your braid harshly, you have no choice other than obedience.
Sejanus kindly offers Jane a hand — and you feel as though you will just sink entirely into the floor as Highbottom approaches. Your heel turns you swift as you try and find even a small bit of space in this little home.
A navy vest with a crimson rose tucked into its pocket cages your escape. You never thought to see the day you’d be grateful for the cold blonde who cuts in front. You nearly collide with him.
“Dance with me.” He commands.
How baffling…
You do not notice the tension settled within your features until your brows ease in confusion. Your chin is pointed upwards — enough so that he can be equal to your gaze.
“Are you asking this of me — or ordering sir?”
His jaw ticks once more, but he does not follow up with any more words. The cleared throat of the short man behind you is enough reason to pick the far less uncomfortable poison. You’d rather be fueled by annoyance as opposed to discomfort and dread. One dance is all.
“Fine.” You mutter, sealing your fate and betraying your swear to be far away from the man whom you loathe entirely.
He is a pale thing up close. Birth marks kissing silken skin, soft as the moss kissing your shoes. You are grateful that this dance does not require touch — only the occasional closeness.
You follow him to where Sejanus and Jane stand — his head nearly reaches your ceiling. His palm hovers over yours, eyes downcast on your pretty features. Grace is scowling, again.
Your fingers twitch as Lizzie begins the sonnet, and you follow his lead.
It surprises you greatly, how well he dances. Though his mouth is a hard line, and his eyes are like round lumps of charred coal. He is noiseless.
“Are we to dance in dread and silence, Mr. Snow? I dare comment on this awful weather, now you may follow with a remark about the food. How much you despised it.”
You catch a glimpse of him, a suppressed twitch of his lips. As if the words offended him. Maybe amused him. You step forward and then back, frayed skirt floating against the movement. He follows suite.
“I could comment on how you dance. I am happy to inform you it is more tasteful than how you cook. Please do advise me on what more you want me to say to you.”
You stumble by his words — and his eyes dart to your clumsy feet. They are stable soon enough, circling him like a shark in vicious waters. His words upset you.
“Mama and Jane prepared the meal. I only prepared the peaches; but I do believe that if a family was kind enough to welcome an abrupt attendance with a warm meal — I would not be so complacent about its contents. You see — we are not all so fortunate to have garnered inheritance, Mr. Snow.” A cold melody, but one he would be a fool to ignore. It is all true.
Now it is him that halts. He steps forward, dipping his head low. Your eyes wander to his gloved palm — it clenches then flexes outward; all evidence of his annoyance with your words.
There you both stand, Sejanus and Jane alongside the twins, mama and Highbottom swirling around you. You do not know where Grace lurks.
You both are still, he stands a tower above you. His eyes pour heat into your own, admonishing you — offended with your words. It is as if the room is only filled with the two of you, the lace of connection between you just your anger. Even in your short time being familiar, it is strong.
“Do you imply that my inheritance is all the reason for my success?” He forces through clenched — perfect teeth.
“Perhaps I do sir, miss Baird of Newbury certainly agree—”
The hand that lays against your side is snatched into his own. He squeezes it tight now, eyes wide and swimming with disapproval and frustration. It has been resting at the surface, but bound to crack.
“Oh I’m certain she does. I am sure she told you the many tales of her troubles and woes brought upon by her time spent with me. You won’t speak to her again.”
It is you that steps forward now, so laced with upset that you do not notice your poor and worn shoes are stepping upon his tip toes. Up upon the rich and shined leather. Your chin is pointed upward, your stance tense.
“You command me as if I am wed to you sir, but I am not. You have come here, unannounced and unhappy with your humble plate as if we are all but a quaint inn with poor maids. Just because we gather little and obscure and we do not have pockets as generous and full as yours does not make us beneath you, Mr. Snow.”
The music halts, and your eyes shift quickly to find a concerned Jane gazing on — alongside your horrified mother. How crazed you both must look now. Stepping upon his toes with palms clasped — anger and upset becoming you both.
You release his gloved hand and part your soft lips to dismiss yourself — yet a strike of lightning cracking from above the grayed sky is a gift given, a distraction from beyond. Yet alongside it? A curse.
The horses startle, lifting to their hind legs before running far and fast with the carriage. Grace cries out from where she sulked in the shadows, and Sejanus alongside his uncle run after the wild beasts. Your sisters and mama follow.
“What are we to do!?”
“Grace, please be calm. We will fetch them.”
“We cannot travel in these conditions, boy.”
“You may rest here!”
Dread is a serpent that wraps tight round your throat — making the pounding of your heart halt entirely.
It is all a blur, but by the end of the lively conversation it is decided. They will stay. They will all stay. You bow your head, crossing your arms round the beating at your chest so to protect it.
“Excuse me.” You whisper, so low it is taken with the breeze from the open door before rushing up your dilapidated steps; knowing full well that the hospitality offered by mama, selfish reasoning or not, is the last thing a man like Mr. Snow deserves…
#young snow#young snow x reader#young snow smut#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus smut#corio snow#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus x y/n#sejanus plinth#sejanus imagine#coriolanus x sejanus#au!coriolanus snow#au!snow#pride and prejudice#pride and prejudice fanfiction#tom blyth#tom blythe#coriolanus x lucy gray#coriolanus x oc
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Happy valentines sweet Aurora ♡♡
I want to request a chains and whips with Elijah ♡♡ (of course) & add some sugar daddy spice if you don't mind.
Ruined
pairing(s): elijah mikaelson x f!reader
count: 5.5k
warning(s): smut {boob/nipple play, spanking, anal gaping, toys, vulgar words?}
author’s note: ahhh lovie! thank you so much for the request, i truly hope you enjoy it. i love you so much 🤍
It was the day Y/N dreaded the most. The one day of the year that everyone collectively somehow agreed to show their love to their partners. It was the day money would be wasted on the same old roses, same tooth rotting chocolates, and same oversized teddy bears. If you haven’t guessed it yet, it was Valentine’s Day.
Y/N groaned as she rolled around in her bed, trying to figure out what she’ll do. Being outside was absolutely not an option, the last she wanted was a front row view of the disgusting displays of affection. No she wanted something simple yet exciting, not public but also would be okay with some privacy. She smirked as her head concocted a beautifully sinful idea. She rolled over to the head of her bed and reached over her nightstand, grabbing her phone all the while. She quickly unlocked it and sent a text all in less than a minute. She waited what felt like ages but was probably a minute or two before her phone beeped. She grinned at her plan that was working so far.
Half an hour later, she was getting dressed in front of her mirror. She put on the skimpiest, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, white lingerie set. Her deep plunging skintight dark maroon dress choked her curves in all the right places. She topped it off with the classic black stilettos that had red bottoms. After appreciating her figure, she grabbed her phone and shoved it in one bra then her keys and shoved it in the other one.
It took her almost twenty minutes to get there but she convinced herself that it’d be okay. It’s better to be fashionably late than early or godforbid on time. Y/N got out of her taxi cab and walked down the brightly lit streets of the French Quarter. Music, cheers, and laughter could be heard before you saw what was happening. As she knew it, couples were standing around being lovey and gross. She made a face as she quickly walked down the street towards the most notorious family home. A bouncer stopped her at the front, she merely pulled out her phone from her bra and pressed the recently dialed number. The man over the phone spoke a simple ‘she’s fine’ and the bouncer let her in.
Y/N hung up and walked in through the metal gates, the music was getting louder and louder at every step she took. Soon she stood in the courtyard, surrounded by exotic dancers in valentine’s attire. She looked around and noticed how obvious the theme was and instantly knew a certain blonde girl was behind this whole party. A waiter passed her by and she reached for the glass of champagne before he left, downing it instantly and grabbed another glass.
“Easy love, you’ve only just arrived.” There was that charming accent she somewhat loathed.
Y/N smiles politely then downed the other glass like a shot, not-so-politely. “Stalking me already?”
He smirks at her slight defiance, “Perhaps. Or maybe the party’s just got here.” He offers his elbow.
She smiles at him and hurriedly places her two empty glasses on the other waiter’s trays before he walks away. She turns to face him then looks down at his arm. She shrugs and loops her arm through his, he begins dragging her around the compound. They chit chat briefly on useless topics, occasionally Y/N scans the room but this doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Already bored of me love?” He feigns offense, placing his hand over his chest.
Y/N quickly looks at him, caught red handed by him due to her lack of interest. “No. Just wondering where the rest of your family is. It’s your party isn’t it?”
“Actually it’s Rebekah’s, something she’s been sure to let everyone know.” He leans against the metal railing as he looks down into the crowd. “Kol is somewhere here with Davina and I suppose my brother is in his office brooding as usual.”
“He doesn’t brood.” Y/N quickly retorts without thinking.
“Oh?” He smiles, his interest now piqued. “Tell me then. What does he do?”
“I don’t know, I just don’t think he broods.” Y/N lies.
The man stares at her for what seems like a long while, trying to decipher the thoughts ping ponging around her head. “So once again…” Klaus leans much closer to her, his breath fanning against her ear. “…what, pray tell, does my dear older brother do?”
Y/N opens her mouth to respond but all that comes out are stutters so she quickly closes it. She tries to move aside but his figure is larger than hers and easily blocks her exits. She’s left with nothing to do but lean on the stone wall behind her, placing her palms flat against it hoping its coolness might relax her now racing heart. Her mind is speeding through different directions, trying to figure out how to leave him without angering him or dragging attention to herself.
Klaus watches as she tries to find ways to escape, he can hear the quickening pace of her heart. He smirks and opts to startle her by slamming his hand on the wall, right next to her face. She jumps alert, her hand flying to her chest. He chuckles at her reaction, gaze lingering on her plunging neckline. He uses his free hand to slide up her belly towards her breasts, stopping just short of the actual cleavage area. His eyes flick upwards to hers and he catches her watching him, with a cheeky smile, he drags his hand further up until it stops on the base of her neck.
“Such a pretty neck.” He says so very casually. His fingers wrap around it and Y/N lets out a sudden groan. “Is this perhaps what he does?”
Y/N doesn’t know if she should even answer that. She remains quiet and hopes he’ll grow bored of her nonparticipation eventually. Before she can utter a word, a voice is heard from her left hand side. “Leave her.”
Klaus smirks and tightens his grip around Y/N’s neck. “Brother. We were just talking about you.”
“I won't say it again Niklaus.”
The hybrid reluctantly releases Y/N, raising his arms up, and takes a step back. He continues to step away, still that smug smile on his face, until he’s further away from her and gone. Y/N lets out a heavy breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding onto.
“Are you alright?”
She feels around her throat, massaging the slightly reddened skin. She nods as she looks at him. “Thank you.”
“You shouldn’t thank me. I would’ve let him continue just so I could hear your answer but something tells me you’d sooner blackout.”
You turn and face him, an incredulous look on your face, “You— really?”
He merely shrugs. “Consider me curious my dear.” He walks, no stalks, slowly toward her and abruptly stops in front of a pair of closed french doors. Wordlessly, he ushers her in and waits until she’s inside to shut the frosted glass doors behind them.
Y/N stands in the middle of the guest bedroom, taking in the view. It’s a normal room with a bed, a nightstand, a plush seat and dresser but it doesn’t look like it at all. There are old paintings on the wall, the decor such as the rug and curtains are from a different time period. It’s like sleeping in a room bathed in history but existing in the present.
This was why she enjoyed being around the family. The things they’ve seen and heard are far more valuable to her than anything in existence. It’s actually how she and the older Mikaelson met. A year ago she had been gifted museum tickets for her birthday and there was no chance she’d pass it up. She was quick to book a date at the location and when the day came, she was ready. You’d think she was a tourist with the armful of pamphlets and a camera hanging around her neck. She wasn’t even aware of the existence of supernatural beings until that day. Y/N and him found each other in the halls of the Louvre; she was admiring longingly for a time that wasn’t hers and he was reminiscing a time he missed.
Y/N was utterly lost in her imagination that she didn’t hear a lick of what he said. He had to physically touch her to pull her out of the spell the tapestries had her in. She apologized, embarrassed by her lack of awareness, and he smiled at her ability to shut out the world, something he was quite good at. Their conversation was long, she had questions and he somehow seemed to have all the answers. Something about her interest and thirst for history fueled him, so much so that he straight up told her how he knew what he knew. Her reaction was peculiar. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t impressed…she simply just didn’t know how to feel.
Over the days she spent in France, he showed her all the memorable places especially where the history was rich. She walked through halls that once withheld so much power of kings and queens, lands that once belonged to the people who would ignite the revolutionary wars. Her body was giddy with excitement as her imagination ran wild listening to his stories. He loved how she appreciated and adored history, this would perhaps explain why he kept her very close to him. In over a thousand years, it was a rare occurrence that he met someone like her. When her trip was done, she left with a journal full of French history and her mind full of the supernatural.
They met monthly, speaking of quite literally anything until one night there was far less talking than they were each used to. She was out celebrating a friend’s engagement, had far too much to drink and no clue how to get herself home safely. Without a thought, she dialed his number and minutes later he pulled up in a matte black car and his signature suit. Her friends truly thought he was hers and she would’ve quickly corrected them but her drunken state mixed with slight desire had her possessively holding onto his arms. Somehow that wasn’t enough for one of the women, she dared try to have a flirty banter with him, something Y/N wasn’t going to allow. Once again, with no thought behind those eyes of hers, she turned in his arms and kissed him. That small decision changed their relationship completely.
“I’ve lost you again.” His voice pulls her from her memories.
“Hm– what? No.”
He raises his full thick brow at her, “Alright then answer me.”
Mute…that’s what she became. She didn’t hear a damn thing he said, she didn’t even know he was talking. Her brain tried to remember the last thing he said before they entered the room but nothing came to her. She sighs and looks at him, “Okay fine, guilty. What was the question?”
He crosses the room from the french doors to her spot next to the painting above the fireplace. Gently, he tucks her hair behind her ear and admires her. He pulls her face close to his until they are mere inches apart, lips almost brushing against each other’s. Y/N was practically salivating, her not-so-subtle gulp drew his eyes to her throat. “What do I do…” He begins, then continues and clarifies, “…to you?”
“This.” She quickly replies, hoping he’d give her what she came for.
“What exactly is ‘this’?” He asks but knows exactly what she meant. He just wants to hear the words from her lips.
Y/N’s gaze holds his, forcing herself not to look away or falter even for a moment. “Heard, seen, cared for, and so on.”
He smiles sweetly and takes a step back from her, giving her a moment to breathe and relax herself. Once his senses pick up on the resting beat of her heart, he uses his vampiric abilities to grab her and take her to his room. In a blur, she is on his bed and tossed on her back, the silk sheets beneath her felt familiar and soft. Her eyes widened but not in surprise or shock, not at all, in absolute joy. She tries to pull herself up into a seated position but he’s quick to push her back down.
“Now where did we leave off?”
“I answered you already.”
“My dear you and I both know that’s not the complete truth. Shall I ask again?” He questions, reaching over into the drawers of the nightstand for something. He hides it behind him, enjoying how her eyes flicker around in anticipation.
“I don’t…I don’t know what you want me to say.” She lies seamlessly, shaking her head all the while. She had been in his room several times but never once had she looked for an escape like now. Even if she did manage to somehow get out of the room, she’d barely make it one step down the hall before he hauled her right back inside.
“Hmm.” He hums, still holding that little smile. “I suppose I’ll just have to drag it out of you.”
“Elijah wait—” She begins but her words are quickly cut off. In yet another blur, her hands are bound in handcuffs above her head to the headboard posts, same with her legs. Her skintight dress stretches and naturally rolls up, settling on her hips.
The man reaches back to her zipper and expertly slides it down. His hands slowly tug and pull the dress off of her, leaving her in her skimpy white lace lingerie. Elijah sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils slowly dilating. She looks utterly sinful right now. Her arms and legs are spread apart in four different directions, leaving her completely helpless and exposed to him. He takes off his tie, undoes his cufflinks, unbuttons his wrist cuffs, and undresses himself torturously slowly.
Y/N could do nothing but watch him tease her with his impromptu trip show. He removes every bit of clothing except his underwear that was hugging his firm ass. “Take it off.” Y/N demands, already hot and bothered just from his stripping.
He smirks and ignores her as he gets onto his bed, settling down between her spread legs. The bag he had retrieved from the drawer had lots of goodies, all of which he knows she’ll appreciate. He removes them one by one, showing it off. First up is a pair of nipple clamps. He reaches up to her covered mounds and pinches each one, earning himself a moan from Y/N’s lips. He doesn’t remove the bra but instead opts to pull the breasts from their confines and they spill out into his hands. Slow gentle massages is all she can feel, his cool palms on her hot flesh makes for a delicious combination. Right as she’s comfortable, he pinches one nipple and pulls at it, snapping the metal clamp on it then repeats to the other one. Once done, both clamps are firmly placed on her hardened buds, there’s a metal chain attached to each clamp.
Elijah admires her new piece of jewelry and playfully tugs on the chain, eliciting a groan from Y/N. Proud of himself but still not satisfied, he continues on. The second item is a small red oval shaped thing. She’s confused but before she can ask, he presses a button on it and it buzzes to life. Oh no. She knew he had once mentioned this but only because he caught her masturbating, she didn’t think he’d ever purchase it though. There’s not much he wants to do with it but he thinks that it will prepare her for him so he turns it to a medium setting, slightly lifts her panties aside and inserts it into her already wet cunt.
There are still several more items in the black bag but he only grabs two more then tosses the plastic bag on the dresser. Her eyes damn near pop out of their socket as they stare at the long incredibly girthy dildos in his hands. Earlier that night, she had no plans but didn’t want to be alone so she may or may not have texted him asking to be thoroughly satisfied and who was he not to indulge her. This is how she found herself at her current state completely at his mercy.
“One last time Y/N.” He begins, a hint of warning in his voice. “What do I do to you?”
Stubborn as a mule, she refuses to answer but all this does is solidify his reasoning to punish her. He nods his head, he knew she wouldn’t answer him but he had to make it clear that he had given her several chances. Elijah’s fingers trace over the band of her panties, Y/N’s body jumps at the contact. She had been quietly mewling, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of giving in. He rips it in half then in half again, scattering the tiny cloth now in pieces over the side of his bed.
Her bare pussy was now fully exposed to him. It has a light pink color to it and swollen, shaven but not fully, it had a stubble. He watched how her muscles would contract to try and pull the little red toy inside its depths yet fail each time. At the same time, her ass clenched as well, he could see the puckered hole tightly shut. He wasn’t having that. His fingers played with her clit, pulling a moan from her lips and making her muscles relax for a split second but that’s all he needed. The instant her asshole opened, he teased the tip of the clear dildo at the entrance.
“Open or I will make you.” This was a command, not a request.
“Eli please, not that.” She says, her heaving chest and heavy breath clear. “It’s big— just put it in my pussy instead.”
He chuckles in a low yet devious manner. He moves his left hand from her clit and to her ass cheeks, soothingly rubbing the plump flesh. His other hand places the toy down and joins in. Soon Y/N’s lips are releasing sounds of sighs and just like that, she feels a loud thwack on her rear side. She had closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy what she thought was him being sweet but he had somehow managed to unlock her bound legs and lift them upwards. He pushes them to her chest, almost folding her in half.
Her ass was now easily accessible to him. Another thwack was heard, this time leaving an impression of his hand on her rear. One hand is holding her legs firmly in place while the other begins to slap her asshole and pussy. An ungodly sound emits from her lips but all it does is spur him on. He slaps both holes once again, she clenches then relaxes. This little game carries on for a while until she’s a writhing, moaning mess for him. During it, he had turned up the vibration speed of the toy inside her and to his surprise, her body squirted at him. She apologized but he grinned, eyes filled with lust.
Now here she was: thighs covered in her previous squirts, pussy swollen and red, and his lower abdomen with traces of her little release. Her begging and pleading only made him want to ruin her some more and oh the plans he had for her. Elijah has been paying close attention to her hole which was now relaxed, he takes the opportunity to insert the clear toy. It’s a tight fit but he was determined to take her one way or another, if he wasn’t in control of himself, he’d just shove inside her and deal with the consequences later. But thankfully that wasn’t the case.
Y/N moans as the toy continues its nonstop vibrating assault inside her. In a moment of brief relaxation, she feels the dildo enter her uncharted territory. Her eyes fly open as she lifts her head up and looks down between her thighs. Elijah locks eyes with her as he smirks, pushing the toy all the way inside, and sighing proudly. Y/N is speechless. She’s never had anything in there until today and something tells her this won’t be a one-time thing. Slowly and steadily, he thrusts the clear toy inside her tight crevice and out, continuing this pace for a while.
Once he is sure she’s ready, he practically rips his own underwear off and lines himself up. The toy has a feature that Y/N is unaware of and Elijah is more than happy to show off. He presses a button and almost immediately, it comes alive and thrusts itself in and out of her. Fully pleased with himself, he smiles gleefully and replaces the little red toy inside her pussy with his own cock.
“Fuck!” Y/N exclaims, unaccustomed to being double penetrated.
Elijah doesn’t give her a moment to breathe, his thumb presses on her clit as he thrusts in and out of the familiar wetness. His right hand is holding one of her legs around his waist, offering him a slightly different angle. All that can be heard in the room is the vibrating toy in her ass, the squelching sounds of him fucking her, and their combined moans. In all of the centuries he had been alive, he’d never once done this and it was arousing as fuck to him. The thin flesh separating her two holes made it incredibly easy for him to feel the vibrations as well.
Her eyes roll back to her head, lips are parted, face is scrunched, and her rather large tits bounce at each impact of his thrusts. She writhes around the silky mattress, whining and moaning about. He can feel her getting closer to her release and he wants nothing more than for her to come undone.
He leans forward, dropping her leg from his waist, further burying himself inside her. “Let go for me sweetheart.” It’s a simple sweet sentence but it has her calling out his name as her squishy pink walls squeeze his cock tightly, groaning out her release. “Good girl,” He whispers softly in her ear, kissing it. He stays still within her, letting her come down from her high and basking in her pleasure brought on by him.
After a sweet moment of sweet nothings being whispered between them, he pulls himself up and abruptly exits her core. His precum mixes with hers and he watches it leak out slowly. He lowers his head, settling between her thighs and begins to lick up her juices, humming against her cunt. He slurps and drinks it all, his tongue enters and sucks as much as he can reach. Y/N tugs on the cuffs on the posts, finding it infuriating that she can’t push him closer or away for that matter. Elijah chuckles at the sight, he loves seeing her bound and weak and needy for him. He dives back down and swirls his tongue around her clit, nipping at it very gently but that’s all it takes to make her come undone once again. He eagerly tilts his head down to her pussy, allowing her cum to slide into his mouth and down his throat.
“You taste absolutely divine.” He moans, sucking in his teeth. He positions himself again and grabs his member in his hand, tapping it on her overly sensitive hole. “Round two my dear?”
“Eli I can’t— please. It’s too much.” She pleads, her breath trembling in anticipation.
“Is it?” He muses teasingly. “Tell me what I want to know.”
“And I can go? We’ll be done?” She asks.
He flicks at her swollen clit and her hips jerks upwards, a gasp escaping her lips. He does it again then again and before he can do it one more time, she blurts out. “You make me wet.”
He smiles, “Continue.”
“Every time I see you, I can’t stop thinking of you fucking me. It doesn’t matter where we are or who is there. Your pet names for me…make me soaking wet. When I see couples— I…I imagine it to be us, doing all the things they do, especially the sex. When we’re alone in a room, I have to fight the urge to pounce on you.” Y/N confesses, a glimmer of softness and desire evident in her eyes. “That’s what you do to me. You make me hungry for you and…” She pushes her hips towards his, holding his gaze. “…I want you to ruin me. Please Eli— have me however you desire.”
Elijah leans towards her face and gently kisses her, it’s slow and loving. They make out passionately for a moment, his hands tracing her curves. They stop and look into one another’s eyes, saying nothing yet everything at the same time. He kisses her again, mumbling softly against her lips, “I’ve been waiting 8 months for that. Fucking your sweet little pussy continuously for days and weeks on end.” His tongue licks her jawline, tracing to her ear. “You’ve always been mine but I’m more than willing to break you and mold you into my perfect toy.”
If someone could cum just from words, Y/N would turn his bed into a pool. He kisses his way down from the shell of her ear to her neck then the valley of her boobs, tugging the nipple clamps, down to her sweaty belly and her warm nether regions. He fixes their positions: he’s on his knees in front of her ready holes and she’s laying on her backside, arms bound in cuffs, and her legs are lifted up and over her chest, her knees practically touching her shoulders.
Elijah hocks some saliva from his throat, letting the slobber drip out from his mouth and directly into her asshole that is open thanks to his right hand fingers. Y/N stares at the erotic scene before her and accidentally queefs. He chuckles at the bodily reaction but she groans in embarrassment. He spits into her open hole one again, ensuring she’s well prepped.
“Wait, there again?” She asks, watching him looming over her.
“It’s such a pretty hole Y/N, why would I ever pass the opportunity to defile it?”
“But you did Eli— the dildo?” She says but she knows damn well a fake dick versus his are absolutely not the same.
“Darling if anything is going to ruin that tight virgin asshole of yours, it’ll be my fucking cock.” Elijah says, grunting as he manages to push himself halfway through. With another grunt, he fully bottoms out and sighs.
He remains inside her ungodly tight anal cavity, his cock feels as though it’s being choked. He tries to pull out but nothing, even with all that saliva and him fucking her with that toy, she’s not any looser. It takes a little while for him to pull himself in and out of her cavern without ripping her a new one. He dislikes this slow pace but he knows he must loosen her up first so he keeps at it until soon she’s moaning and her muscles relax.
In no time at all, he buries himself in her to the hilt, and pulls out then does it again and again. Y/N had never seen the pleasure in having anal sex but now she craved nothing else. The constant pounding that was occurring inside her walls was making her deliriously happy. Her lips are parted, gasping and moaning, if you squint you could hear the panting as well. Her head is tossed back, a show of her surrender to his onslaught work. Elijah had long forfeited the idea of gentleness, his heightened senses were turning him primal. He grabs both of her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs, as he rides her asshole at an inhumane speed. Her pleas and cries were falling on deaf ears, he only sought after his own release.
She cums and moans loudly, her body convulsing underneath him. Still he doesn’t stop and truthfully she doesn’t want him to. She is beyond overstimulated but something in her mind snaps and makes her want more. She is hungry for him, to become whatever he wishes. His movements has the bed rocking and creaking, he has never been so aggressive but fuck if it wasn’t hot. One hand reaches for the chain and tugs on it, pulling at her clamped nipples. Y/N squeals in surprise, she thought those were simply for his visual pleasure. He tugs again and again, enjoying the yelps falling off her lips.
Elijah’s eyes were pitch black, fully consumed by his desire for her. His hands are back on her thighs and his body is pressing down on hers. The closer he moves to her, the deeper his thrusts into her ass are. He maneuvers around so that his left hand hikes her thigh over his waist while his right hand holds onto her neck. He squeezes it, watching her eyes flutter shut. His breath is fanning her ear as he whispers words of encouragement with some good old filth.
“Your asshole is wrapped tight around my cock princess, so needy aren’t you?”
She merely nods, unable to utter any words or even think.
He bites her earlobe, groaning into it as he continues to pound into her. “I’m close Y/N. I’ll fucking paint those walls cream.”
“Fuck yesss. Do ittt,” She drawls, utterly spent yet still willing to take more.
He immediately tightens his grip on her neck, “Manners.”
“Sorry daddy. Please please cum in my ass, fill it up please.” Y/N begs, her words strained.
“Daddy?” He says, tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue. He grins widely and rails her with renewed vigor. “I can work with that.”
Y/N’s hands grab onto her binds tightly, afraid that it’ll break any moment due to Elijah’s unrelenting powerful thrusts. He lets out a deep guttural moan and stills inside her, his cock twitching before exploding inside the furthest depths of her uncharted hole —well until now— and covers every inch in his warm cream colored cum. She squeals at the foreign sensation, she can feel him inside and even his release which warms her.
He kisses her ears, her cheek, her chin, and lastly her lips, swallowing her moans. His left hand unwraps her leg from his waist and slips in between them, finds her clit and uses his vampiric speed to rub it quickly. Y/N’s soft cries are muffled by his mouth, she tightens her legs around him and he takes the simple signal. His fingers continue their work until she’s coming on his hand once again. He manages to make her squirt once more, her moans fall uncontrollably from her lips.
He pulls out of her hole, groaning all the while, and collapses on top of her. She tries to regain her breathing, her chest rising and falling quickly. Elijah reaches over the nightstand to retrieve the key, unlocking her cuffs. Y/N sighs in relief, massaging her wrists gently. He takes her hands and peppers soft kisses on the red marks. With a lot of effort, she grunts and rolls herself over, laying on his shoulder. She wraps her arms around him loosely, lacking the strength to hold on. He simply smiles and drapes her leg over his waist, pulling her close to him.
“How do you feel?” He asks, genuinely wanting to know if she is alright.
“A bit sore…” She answers then groans as she tries to tangle her legs with his. “…okay make that very sore.”
He places a soft kiss on her shoulder then cheek then her forehead. His hand runs down from her neck to the base of her spine in a soothing manner. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head, touched by how loving and sweet he is during aftercare. “Not at all. It was just new.”
He smiles and looks down at her, she looks so peaceful and also thoroughly fucked. “I’m glad. We’ll continue in ten minutes, I want to fuck your ass again from behind so I can watch it jiggle.”
Y/N groans at his lewdness, “Such a dirty mouth.”
He chuckles, his hand massaging her ass cheek gently. “Only for you.”
“How about thirty minutes? I need a tiny nap.” She asks, eyes closed as she’s slowly lulled to sleep by her fatigued body and his cool one.
Elijah whispers an ‘okay’ in her ears just before she’s fully asleep. He holds her tightly close to him, caressing her body softly as he too takes the moment to relax. The party outside in the compound is still going. He can vividly hear the music and occasionally picks up on the conversations. The moonlight is shining brightly into his room, illuminating everything. He takes one last look at Y/N’s now sleeping figure and smiles, kissing her head softly before fully relaxing into the pillows behind him. He shuts his eyes, ready to be swept away by the tidal waves of dreams pertaining to him and her.
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julien baker calling reader a good girl and being in charge🙏🏻
Julien Baker x f!reader
warnings/tags: fingering, oral (reader!recieving), pet names such as... princess, baby, honey, and good girl ofc 🙄 a lil bit of toxicity and lets say stylistic errors in grammar and perspective 🙏(aka grammarly stop being mad at me i'm not gonna buy premium)
author's note: girl you know i had to. 1.2k words, should take around 15 mins to read. thank y'all so much for the requests! i promise i've seen them all, however i have also gotten back into minecraft after they added the cherry wood so... I'm working on it okay? okay. hope u like it okay bye :0
You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, not again. But, here you were, scrolling to unblock her contact. You thought there was something about this city: the air or something cliche like that. Something that had you calling Julien again and again. Surely, if it were up to you and your own free will, you wouldn’t be doing this.
The ringing from the other line drowns out any rational thought from this point on.
Ring. You shouldn’t be doing this. Ring. You’ll just get hurt again. Ring. “Hello?”
There was a point where you really believed you would never hear her voice again, never even want to. “Hey,” you said.
“So uh… wh-?” you cut her off.
“Come over,” the last of a six-word phone call.
-
You wanted to slam the door shut as quickly as you’d ripped it open. She was still wearing that stupid necklace. The one you had bought for her at a gas station in… Arizona maybe? Somewhere dry, hot. As you weren’t expecting this cruel reminder of the past, you were thrown off-guard. Clenching your jaw, you didn’t know what to say. Luckily, you didn’t have to.
The way she kissed you that night had you drunk on her from the moment she stepped into your apartment. All your attempts at memorizing her touch, her taste, her smell were in vain. Julien always had a way of making life feel straight out of a movie. It was all teeth and tongue, your mouth surrendering to hers as soon as she tongued at your bottom lip. No memory could ever do her justice.
Her hands danced over the expanse of your body, hands moving from your ribs to your hips, your neck to your breast. Fingertips shaping your body into submission like wet clay.
You broke the kiss, leading her to your bedroom.
“That’s not very polite, Princess. Not even going to offer me a drink?” Her feigned offense only turned you on more, ever the tease. As if she could read your mind, a smirk tugged at her beautiful lips, “I know, baby. Always so needy for me,” she spoke in a low drawl.
Any sense of control you had was now gone. You were her’s. Again. So you’d nodded with a soft pout.
“We can fix that, honey. But you need to use your words,” Julien said. This woman would be the death of you. “Please, Jay. I need it,” you whispered.
“Need what, baby?”
“Need you,” you pouted. That seemed to satisfy her as she held out her hand for you to grab with a smile. The two of you stumbled down the hallway, towards the open door to your bedroom.
She pushed you up against the foot of your bed, reaching down to slip her hands under the hem of your t-shirt, abandoning the article to the floorboards. Her gentle kisses up and down your neck did nothing but add fuel to the burning desire between your hips. Hands danced around your waist while yours were planted into her hair.
You tugged at her roots in the hope of her diverting her attention to where you had craved her since she flew into town. She pulled her head away to look up at you with expectant eyes.
“What do you say, Princess?”
“Please.” That made her smirk. “Good girl,” she had said. Pressing a kiss to your soft lips, she trailed her way down to the fly of your jeans. Kneeling, she popped open the button and unzipped the fly in mere seconds, clearly as eager as you.
She slid her hand into your cotton panties, collecting your slick before beginning to circle your clit. Very quickly you migrated from standing to sitting as she continued her ministrations. As you arched your back into her touch, she slipped two of her fingers into your entrance.
She pressed a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh before putting her mouth on your heat. She curled her fingers and started gently suckling on your clit. Her consistent motions had your mouth open and your tongue gently curled up as you laced your fingers back into her hair. The tug you had delivered to her hair every time she changed what she was doing had her moaning into your pussy, sending reverberations through your wet cunt.
Anyone outside your open window would be able to hear what was going on inside those four walls. The sounds of her fingers plunging in and out of you coupled with the wet kisses she was littering among your core were downright sinful.
Feeling your walls fluttering around her fingers, she knew you were close. You grunted in offense and frustration when she pulled her mouth away from you, but she quickly mended any hurt feelings with her words.
“I missed having you like this, baby. All needy just for me.” It seemed like her pace began quickening after every phrase, her hunger increasing parallel to yours. The ferocity of her thrusting fingers and her thumb now rubbing at your clit had you stumbling closer to your climax.
“You can do it, Princess. Go ‘head and cum for me, baby.”
You tugged harder and harder on her strands with every pulse of your orgasm, the increasing sting on her scalp had her moaning right along with you. The way you were squeezing and oozing on her fingers as you came down had Julien weak. She pulled her fingers out of you and into your mouth.
“Suck.”
Immediately you obliged, your head too foggy to imagine disobeying. Maybe tasting yourself on her fingers was dirty, but it had happened so many times that it almost felt romantic. To the two of you, experiencing the sensual evidence of your euphoria was just as pure and intimate as a kiss.
You laid alone atop your sheets for a moment until she returned to you. She had removed most of her own clothes, leaving herself in a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. She brought the wipes she had grabbed from your bathroom up to your pussy, navigating your folds simply with her memory. A soft furrow settled itself between her brows, displaying her focused state as she cleaned you up.
Once she was satisfied, she crawled up next to you on the bed. Pulling your head to lay on her chest. You looked up at her with wide eyes as she stroked your hair.
“Honestly, I never thought this would happen again,” her hushed voice tugged at your heart. “I know,” you said. “I’m glad that it did,” her inflection made the words sound like a question, but you didn’t answer, preferring the quiet to any unsure, over-thought reply you could give. She sighed gently and gave a soft peck to your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear. Smiles rested on both of your faces, yours spreading to hers.
It was funny how little you cared in the moment you knew you would come to regret. If you could bottle the pure ecstasy Julien had coaxed out of you, surely you would have good reason not to.
For better or for worse, no one else could ever possibly make you feel the way she did, and for right then, that was enough.
#also thank u 4 fifty notes 🙏#requests ARE still open it'll just take a minute#pls be specific in requests! it helps with inspo 4 sure#carlena's writings (after dark)#carlena's writings#julien baker smut#boygenius smut#boygenius#julien baker#wlw smut#julien baker x reader#julien baker fanfic
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Coping with Sebastian Sallow
Summary: In your seventh year at Hogwarts, the only thing keeping you sane is the comfort of your freckled best friend. After a nightmare, he finds another way to comfort you.
Disclaimer: So this is ending B! Or Sebastian's ending. I want to do a poly ending next so stay tuned for that! If anyone has any suggestions or feedback please let me know!
Rating: E
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader
Sebastian would never admit it, but his favourite time of day was definitely first thing in the morning. Everyone assumed he would be grumpy at first light and want to lay abed until late into the afternoon.
And they’d be right. But Sebastian loved mornings because it was when he got to have you all to himself. He loved waking up with you tucked against his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around your midsection and his face buried in your hair. He loved inhaling your sweet scent and listening to your deep breathing.
He also knew in these moments that you weren’t in any pain, and it made his chest swell with pride at the idea that he could keep you safe.
Of course, his hubris immediately came back to bite him as start to you twitch against him, a small, pained whimper leaving your lips as the muscles in your back begin to spasm. He pulls back and gently rolls you so you’re laying with your head on his chest and begins rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder with one hand while the other reaches over to touch your face. The curtains on his four-poster bed are drawn tight against the morning light and quickly Sebastian grabs his wand from under his pillow and casts a silencing charm around the two of you. He then casts another that causes a soft glow to illuminate the space so that he could see your face. Then he puts his want back under his pillow and returns to petting you.
“Shh. It’s okay. That’s my girl.” He repeats in a soothing tone. After a few minutes you still, and sigh as your eyes flutter open.
For a moment you forget where you are, as if you hadn’t woken in Sebastian’s bed most days in you seventh year, with nightmares wracking your body and mind and the pain being simply too much. Slowly, you become aware of Sebastian’s calming voice and his warm sturdy body pressed against yours. He grounded you gently with comforting words and his large, freckled hands innocently exploring your body.
Finally, when the tremors stop you pull back and gaze up at the man holding you. His eyes are already trained on you, his lips twisted in concern.
“Thank you.” You whisper, dropping your eyes shyly at his intense gaze.
Everything about Sebastian had become intense these last few months. You didn’t know how but he seemed to have become an even bigger fixture in your life, barely leaving your side I he could help it. He’s even become physically larger, taller and broader; towering over most of the student body. Only Ominis was taller than him, but unlike the blonde Slytherin prince Sebastian had filled out to the point where his shirts strained at the shoulders and wrists, especially since he’d started playing Quidditch as a Beater.
One of your few true pleasures in life was watching him fly and seeing him play was no exception. The pure joy he radiated was infectious. But lately watching his intense expression as he concentrated on the game made you feel things you weren’t sure if you should feel about a best friend. His low rumbling voice brought your attention back to earth.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, a warm freckled hand to cup the side of your jaw. You take a moment to collect your scattered thoughts then evaluate the state of your sore body. Your back feels tender and the nightmare had exhausted you. You bury your face in his chest, trying to stop the tears in your eyes from overflowing.
“I’m okay. I had a bad dream.” You explain a little ashamed that a mere nightmare would affect you so badly. He nodded.
“Would it feel better if you told me? Get it out?” For a moment you freeze, terrified he would judge you. Then you remember its Sebastian, you’d seen him fall into the lake from his broomstick and burn his eyebrows off with rogue confringo.
“I keep dreaming that I’m getting married.” You say, still not meeting his eyes. “I feel so happy I could burst and then just as my husband lays me down on our marital bed I explode in pain. Everything goes black and when I come back, he’s staring at me with this horrible, disgusted look.”
You shudder, the image of the faceless man's lips curling in revulsion imprinted on your brain. You sigh.
“I’m so tired.” You say and lay your head back down, eyes already closing.
Sebastian watches as you drift off, his hands continuing to rub your shoulder almost absentmindedly. Anger builds in his stomach at the thought of anyone making you feel lesser. If you were his he would make you feel cherished, he swore to himself, you’d never feel anything but adored.
And he could barely think straight after the idea of you and him on your wedding night entered his thoughts.
His head was a mess of hormones and emotions lately. It felt like he was hyper aware of your every movement, when you played with your hair during class or huffed out a breath. You scent maddens him and his every waking moment seemed to be taken up with thoughts of you. Concern, of course, for your wellbeing but starting this summer it had also been a physical response as well. He admitted secretly to himself that he dreamt about you, dreams that ended with him grinding against his pillows or the mattress, glad you weren’t tucked close to him.
When you were next to him, he had to distance himself in the bed, closing his eyes tightly and flexing his legs; willing his raging erection down. Usually, it worked but there were a few times he’d have to flee to the washroom to work himself to orgasm, nightshirt pulled up and stuffed into his mouth to muffle his moans.
He felt the familiar stirrings now and quickly bit his lip, willing himself to calm down. You were his best friend, you trusted him. He couldn’t ruin this with his lewd thoughts and actions.
Finally, he fell into a sort of trance, counting your soft even breaths to anchor himself. He heard the muffled sound of his dorm mates awakening and shuffling around, preparing for the day. He stayed quiet and close to you, not wanting his movements to wake you from a well needed restful sleep.
The dorm had been silent for almost ten minutes when you shifted, wrapping your arm around his chest and pressing yourself against his ribcage. Bad enough that this position pushed your breasts against the thin cotton of your nightdress, but you also threw one of your legs over his, essentially straddling his thigh. Sebastian was rife with panic and lust as he tried to move away, and he would swear on trial that he was just trying to adjust you as to preserve both of your propriety.
But as his hand went to your hip and he shifted the leg you were pressed against, you moaned so sweetly it was like a drug; he was intoxicated instantly. Then with his hand still on your hip and your arms around him, you began to rock slowly. Your breasts pressed against the hard muscle of his abdomen as you were tucked into him with his arm around your shoulders. If he moved the hand that had been rubbing your shoulder, he could cup your breast and feel if your nipples were as hard to his fingers as they felt digging into his side.
You moan again, your breathing becoming heavier as you press yourself into the cotton of his sleep pants. Sebastian could feel your panting, hot against his throat. Suddenly you thrust harder against him with a whine and your knee hitches up and brushes his hardened cock. He couldn’t stop the groan that reverbs through his chest, vibrating your entire being. Suddenly, you still and he feels you sharply inhale. There’s a moment of silence, heavy with possibilities.
“Sebastian?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and he can feel the heat radiating from your blushing cheeks. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to relax his tense body.
“I’m here love.” He says and you don’t notice the term of endearment past rushing of blood in your ears.
“I’m so sorry.” You gasp, jerking away. Sebastian quickly sits up, scrambling after you, and catching your shoulders.
“Wait. Please.” He begs.
Your hands fly up to cover your face with a groan and he grasps them to pull them away so that he can clearly see your flushed face. The lighting is soft within the confines of the green velvet curtains, but he can see the colour high on your cheeks and how your chest heaves. You look absolutely mouthwatering as you bite your lip, finally raising your eyes to meet his.
“I’m so, so sorry.” You repeat. Sebastian shakes his head.
“I really don’t think you have anything to apologize for.” He says, hand going to your chin to tilt your face up towards his, heat blooming deep inside him as your eyes flick down to his lips then back up. Feeling bold, Sebastian lowers his lashes, and you mewl softly as his dark eyes rake over your face and he wets his lips.
“What were you dreaming about this time love?” He asks, his voice husky.
You shudder and move closer to him. You’re both knelt facing each other and you press yourself closer so that his right knee is almost between your legs.
“I was dreaming about the wedding night again.” You whisper, unable to take your eyes off his.
“I was on the bed wearing nothing but the lightest chemise and when I looked up-” You raise a hand to trail up with jaw and gently trace his lips. “When I look up, this time it's you that's standing above me.”
Sebastian shivers and puts a hand on your wrist to hold your fingers to his lips. His next words you feel against the pads of your fingertips.
“What was I doing?” He rasps.
“You were staring at me. But you weren’t disgusted. You looked like you wanted, no, needed me.” Your breath stutters to a halt as he slowly sucks your fingers into his mouth, his tongue curling around your index finger.
“Then what?” He asked around your digit.
“Then you start touching me in places that I didn’t know felt so good.” Your hips nudged forward again and now his knee is pressed fully against your center. Sebastian releases your hand and places his hands on your waist and pulls you into his lap, grinding you down into his thigh. He leans forward and presses his lips against the shell of your ear.
“Keep going.” He whispers roughly, rocking you, revelling in the damp spot that was forming on the fabric of his pants. For a moment you lose yourself in the sweet friction, head falling back with your lips parting. It was somehow better than anything you’d ever felt before.
“What have you felt before?” Sebastian inquires and you jolt, unaware you had voiced your last thought. You meet his lust darkened eyes and he rubs sensual circles on your hip bones, then he slips his hands under your nightgown to caress the silky skin there. You just whine and he grips the skin almost painfully.
“Answer me sweetness.” He commands softly and you shudder.
“I’ve touched myself.” You stammer out. Sebastian raises a dark eyebrow. You can't help but grind your hips down on him, the feeling of your slick seeping through your drawers onto him is exhilarating and the scent of him is heavy in the air. He smells like fire and peppermint, and it clings to the fabric of the bed, you feel as if inhaling it alone could make you come.
“Do you use your fingers?” He asks, almost innocently and you blush. But you can’t help but he honest with him, so you nod. In response he twitches against you, his hips jerking up to push his hard clothed length against where he’s pressed against you.
“I-I use my fingers and sometimes my pillow.”
He groans, his head falling forward to your shoulder. He then gently nips the skin there, making you shiver with desire.
“Does it feel like this?” He asks huskily, rubbing his thigh into your cleft, at the same time shoving his hips forward to press his erection into you again. You shake your head and clutch his shoulder.
“You’re much harder. More intense.” He laughs.
“I would certainly hope so.”
He bucks up against once more you to emphasize his point. The heat between your legs is becoming unbearable, your drawers too slick to get the friction you need, and you whimper.
“S-Sebastian. Please I need...” You trail off, head falling back. Sebastian’s face comes up from the crook of your shoulder and he watches you intently.
“What do you need my love.” He says, one hand coming up to caress your face; his thumb swiping over your lower lip.
“Kiss me. Touch me. Anything. Please!” Your words sound needy even to your ears, but you can’t find it in you to care.
Especially not when he dips his head down to press his lips against yours. You gasp against him, tangling your fingers into his sleep mussed brown hair. He pushes you back against the soft pillows and his scent wafts up to you even stronger than before.
He breaks the kiss and you’re both breathing hard, but you can’t help but melt at the soft look in his hazel eyes. His hands begin to wander over your body, down your shoulders, squeezing your thighs and skimming up your ribs before stopping just below your breasts. His thumbs brush the swell just before your breasts begin and he searches your expression.
“Can I?” He asks, sounding just as wrecked as you feel. You nod quickly and he wastes no time cupping your breasts fully. You arch as a wordless plea leaves your lips. You drop your hands to his shirt, pawing at the buttons. He allows you to pull the garment off him, only taking his hands off you for enough time that it takes to slip his shirt down his shoulders; not wanting to lose the feel of you for a second.
You marvel at the taut muscles under your fingers, exploring first his shoulder then his chest. He has a constellation of freckles all over, and you marvel at the flush that stains his skin and make them stand out even darker. When your hands fall to the waistband of his pants though, he quickly grabs them.
“Not yet.” He almost moans. “I won’t last.”
He then, much to your displeasure, pulls back and slides down your body while looking up at you with a filthy expression. He bunches your nightgown around your waist and kisses your stomach just above the band of your drawers. You arch into him again and his hands come up to press your hips into the mattress.
“Relax.” He purrs. “I want to make you feel good.”
You can barely think at this point, your skin is on fire at the barest touch.
“Please.” You beg. “More.”
Despite your pleas he takes his time, gazing at the wet patch you’ve made with awe. Then he slowly leans forwards and kisses your clothed center. You keen at the sensation of his lips against you and you feel the huff of his laugh. He takes your hands and places them on top of his head and gazes up at you as he hooks his fingers into the waist of your drawers.
“You’re in control here.” He promises as he pulls them down. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”
You nod even though you’re sure he’s not looking then almost scream as he licks you from your opening to your clit then back down. His groan reverberates through you and one of your hands fly where it's tangled in his hair to cover your mouth.
He reaches up and tugs your hand back down, not stopping his ministrations for a moment.
“Don’t hold back,” He gasps against your slick lips. “I want to hear you.”
You shake your head frantically, pressing your lips tightly together.
“They’ll hear.” You whisper, eyes darting to the curtains. Sebastian sharply sucks your clit into his lips before dipping his tongue back into your slick.
“They’ve all left. It’s just the two of us.”
With that you let your head fall back and stare up at the canopy above you as he slowly takes you apart. You feel his nimble fingers trail down your thighs and to your opening, gently prodding you open with his index finger. You buck against him and the hand still on your hip pushes you down again then he braces his forearm over your abdomen, pinning you down.
His eyes don’t leave your face as he pumps his finger in time with his tongue, slowly adding another finger as he felt your channel loosen. You can feel the most intense orgasm of your life growing low in your belly and your thighs begin to tremble. His fingers continue to move, stroking your walls, as he lifts his head and nips at your inner thigh.
“Let go.” He whispers and you raise your head to look at him. His lips glisten with your arousal and his tongue darts out to swipe it up, his eyes closing at the taste. When they open you swear, they’re glowing.
“Look at me when you come” he says. “I want to see it.”
You whine, canting your hips, fighting the urge to close your eyes. His eyes stay on yours as he lowers his mouth back to your clit, tongue swirling around it and fingers pressing against that spot you could never reach.
Despite his holding you down you almost buck him off with the intensity of your orgasm. A ragged cry drags itself from your chest and your fingers tighten to an almost painful level in Sebastian’s hair. He groans against you, one arm dropping so he can palm his erection.
Finally, you push him away as overstimulation makes you whimper. He pulls back looking like sin incarnate, licking your essence from his lips. He doesn’t let you breathe as he surges forward to capture your lips gain, his tongue swiping into your mouth messily. You can taste yourself on him and it stokes the fire within you as you gasp and you tongues tangle. Its messy with teeth and lips colliding but it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever felt.
Sebastian only pulls back to pull you nightgown over your head then he presses his lips back to yours. He finally lets you pull his pants down, freeing his now painfully hard cock. He hisses as your wrap your fingers around his length, and you pull away to and your eyes dart down to it. He doesn’t blush as you look at him with naked want, licking your lips.
He's thick, so thick you can barely close your fingers around him. The head is red, and the rest is dark and veined, he feels like silk wrapped around steel. Curiously you stroke him up and down, fascinated with the way it twitches in your grasp. Suddenly he catches your hand, and your eyes jerk up to meet his
“Not yet.” He says, leaning forwards and kissing you almost sweetly. “I want to feel you.”
The admission takes your breath away, as does the soft way he’s looking up at you from beneath hooded lids. You nod eagerly and he sweeps in to kiss you again before pulling back and gripping your thighs, gently parting and slotting himself between them. He turns so that his back is against the headboard and pulls you onto his lap straddling him. His cock is pressed against your lower stomach, smearing precum on your fevered skin. He takes a moment to get you settled, running his hands up your ribs and brushing against the puckered skin of your scar. You groan at the soothing feel of his hands against you. He then guides you so that the tip of him is pressed against your dripping opening, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours.
“Go at your pace. You can stop at any time if it hurts.”
You nod and take a shuddering breath. Then, with your hands on his shoulders you begin to slowly lower yourself. The unfamiliar feeling of the stretch has you sucking in a breath between your teeth, but you don’t stop. It's different, but not bad you decide.
You don’t stop until you’re fully seated on him, eyes fluttering at the deep pleasure it invokes. Sebastian can barely hold back from thrusting into you as he watches you bite your lip, breasts heaving. Finally, you rock your hips forward and Sebastian feels his eyes roll into the back of his head.
You moan, not bothering to hold back your noises anymore as your fingers dig into his shoulders. His hands were gripping your hips so hard he was sure he would leave bruises, but you don't care. He can't keep his eyes off you as you increased your pace, bouncing desperately up and down on his lap.
Suddenly he leaned forward to press his lips into yours, swallowing the sweet noise you made. Even muffled, you adore the sounds Sebastian made. He was unrepentant in his need for you, growling and moaning right along with you. When he finally lets you breathe, he wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you to his chest and bucking up into your heat. This put his mouth right by your ear and he begins to whisper the filthiest things.
“You feel so fucking good.” He gasps. “Wrapped so tightly around my cock. I’ve wanted you for so long, needed you in my bed. You’re mine, tell me you’re mine.”
The last words came out as a ragged plea and you nodded vigorously.
“I’m yours. Please, I’m yours.” Your voice is hoarse now. “I’m so close Sabastian please.”
You felt him smile against your skin as his pace increases. You are barely able to keep up at this point.
Then he tips you back, bracing his arms so you won’t fall hard on your sensitive back, and increases his tempo. You’re practically sobbing at this point, thrashing your head back and forth against the soft covers. Sebastian’s adjusted his hips, and his pelvis was suddenly pressed right against your aching clit, and you barely have the breath to stutter out his name before you were soaring.
Sebastian barely holds on as your walls clench around him, and a wash of warmth and wetness soak him. Pounding into you as you continue to flutter around him, Sebastian chases his own release. It only takes a few frantic thrusts before he is burying his head in your neck and he bites down, suckling the tender skin there as he exploded within you.
The heat of his bite and the warmth that flooded you trigger another orgasm, and you see stars, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him as close as possible.
As you both come down, Sebastian lazily thrusts his semi-hard cock within you, basking in the afterglow. After a few shuddering breaths he finally slips out of you and lays next to you, limbs shaking slightly. You tuck yourself against him again, hands slowly exploring his sweat slick body. Your heart feels so full, and you find yourself blinking back tears. At your sniffle Sebastian pulls back and cups your face to tilt it up to him.
“Did I hurt you?” He asks anxiously. You shake your head and lean up to kiss him sweetly on the lips.
“I love you.” You whisper, eyes scanning his face for any reaction.
A grin immediately split his freckled face and he pulls you against his lips. Then he pulls back and kisses your nose, forehead, eyelids and even chin. You giggle helplessly as he settles back on your lips before pulling back and looking at you with adoring hazel eyes.
“I love you too.” He says. “So much it hurts. Please will you be mine?”
He intertwines his fingers with yours, still not taking has eyes off yours. You squeeze his hand.
“I’m already yours. I always have been.”
Somehow he grins even wider.
“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade today? Make it official?”
You roll your eyes. Then you push your face into his bare chest, ignoring the twitch you feel from his lower half.
“After I wake up.” You say, voice muffled by warm skin. He laughs his infectious laugh, and you find yourself smiling in turn.
#fanfic#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow#Sebastian sallow smut#smut#Sebastian sallow x reader
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Mistaken Emotions : Conrad Fisher x Reader
Description: 4.5 k wc, y/n and Conrad have been best friends for years, so she’s knows there has to be more to his sudden change in behavior. Friends to lovers, angst to fluff, hurt comfort.
Warnings: mentions of/references to cancer & illness, panic attacks, anxiety, mentions of smoking and weed/pot/marajuana, anger/sadness/other emotions, etc.
Y/n sighed to herself as she walked down the beach. Her shoulders lifted briefly during the inhalation, only to dramatically plummet as the deep sigh left her lips. Belly was right, Conrad was smoking. Y/n had hoped their mutual friend was wrong. But, the puff of smoke being expelled from Conrad’s mouth -visible despite the dark sky that greeted them at the beach tonight-, told y/n her hope had been futile.
Conrad didn’t turn his head as he heard y/n approaching. Instead, he wiggled his toes into the cold sand under his flip-flops as he exhaled another cloud of smoke. Conrad knew by the sound of her feet shuffling in the sand, that y/n was hesitant to join him. He felt a twinge of guilt knowing he’d caused that unfamiliar tension between them. But, the guilt lessened in his body as he took another toke.
Y/n silently lowered herself onto the sand beside Conrad. She looked straight ahead, but still noticed the way he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Y/n sat wordlessly for a few minutes as she collected her thoughts. Where to even begin?
Conrad nearly laughed when y/n finally spoke. He didn’t know how he expected her to greet him, but he hadn’t anticipated her whispered, “this isn’t you”. Conrad pulled the blunt from his lips, pinching it between his fingers as he held it before him as if inspecting it. “Maybe you don’t know me anymore,” he muttered curtly.
“Yes I do,” y/n argued, glancing over at Conrad with a slight glare. Was he actually trying to imply she didn’t know him? This was Conrad; even when he was moody, she knew his heart. When Conrad merely raised an eyebrow at her, she sighed. “Stoic wall or not,” y/n commented scoldingly, “I know you”.
“You’re still the boy who went to three stores to replace my Monsters Inc. bandaids when Belly had put mine all over her babydoll,” y/n said, smiling to herself. “The one who taught me how to surf even though I sucked at it and Jeremiah said I was a lost cause,” she murmured as she stared out at the ocean. “You’re still that boy who begged his mom to let him drive to the store to get me cold medicine when I was sick that one summer, even though you only had your learner’s permit”.
Conrad nearly smiled as he listened to y/n recount some of the memories they had together. But, the mention of his mom sent the painful stab of reality back to the forefront his mind. “Well, people change,” Conrad muttered before bringing the blunt back to his mouth.
“Maybe,” y/n nodded in contemplation. She hummed, zipping up her lightweight jacket. “But, souls don’t,” y/n argued.
Conrad coughed on the marijuana smoke from his latest toke as he laughed. “That’s so cheesy,” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. Conrad shook his head in amused disbelief, “of course you’d say that”.
Y/n smirked as she looked over at her best friend. “Like I said, souls don’t change,” she repeated smugly. She reached over and wordlessly stole the blunt from him and put it out with a smirk. When Conrad laughed some more, she smiled contentedly as she leaned back, now propped up by her elbows.
Conrad smiled appreciatively at y/n. As annoying as most people would find her behavior, it was comforting. She was still y/n. He had to fight to keep himself from staring at her lips as they somehow shone even though the sky was dusk. He needed to get his mind off the all too familiar feeling that was creeping up on him again as he felt pulled to confess his feelings towards the girl beside him. So, Conrad reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a new blunt and his lighter. He quickly turned his back to y/n so she couldn’t put it out again as he ignited the end. Once it was lit, Conrad turned around and stared back out at the crashing waves.
Y/n scanned Conrad closely. She hated that he was clearly going through something that made him feel like he had to -or should- change his mind on matters like this. Conrad had been so against smoking -especially pot- before now. She didn’t know what had changed; after all, it wasn’t like he was offering much in the way of an explanation.
“Let me have a toke,” y/n stated, reaching for Conrad’s second blunt. She huffed in annoyance when Conrad pushed her hand away from his face.
“What?!” Conrad replied with a bewildered stare. “Y-you know the words?!” he groaned, analyzing y/n as if he’d never seen her before. “How?“ Conrad questioned, his tone coming off offended.
Y/n laughed loudly, her cheeks hurting from the wide grin on her face. “We’re not 7 anymore, Con,” she reminded lightly.
Conrad hummed loudly. He gave y/n a small sad nod. “I wish we were,” he confessed quietly. Conrad could feel y/N’s intense gaze on him, but he didn’t elaborate.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/n wondered.
Conrad shrugged faintly. “Just easier back then,” he mumbled. “But, that’s not where we are now”.
Y/n hummed. “I guess not,” she agreed vaguely on the premise. “Now, let me have one,” y/n repeated her request. She once again leaned over and reached for the blunt in Conrad’s hand.
“No,” Conrad argued, chuckling as he moved away from y/n’s reach.
Y/n frowned and furrowed her brows. She crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her body towards Conrad. “Why not?” Y/n retorted.
“You don’t smoke,” Conrad said simply. He smugly held the blunt away from y/n.
Y/n huffed loudly as she raised a brow. “Neither did you,” she countered.
“No,” Conrad said shaking his head, “still not happening”. He relit the end
“Why?” Y/n repeated.
“You’re against smoking,” Conrad stated simply.
“So were you,” y/n retorted with a smug tone.
Conrad huffs loudly in frustration. But he stopped lighting up nonetheless. “Somethings change,” he shrugged.
“So then let me see,” y/n protested. She nodded at the blunt in Conrad’s hand expectantly.
“No,” Conrad practically whined.
“Conrad,” y/n groaned as she once again reached for the joint.
Conrad pulled his hand away from y/n’s reach and shook his head. “No”. “It’s not going to happen,” he told her.
“Then what’s the real reason?” Y/n pressed knowingly.
“I’m not letting you put that into your body,” Conrad admitted. He stared directly at y/n in hopes of her understanding he wasn’t playing around; she wasn’t going to take a hit.
“But it’s okay going into yours?” Y/n questioned rhetorically.
Conrad shrugged. “Who cares?” He asked dismissively.
“I do, Con,” y/n stated matter of factly.
Conrad’s lips formed a small smirk. “Really?”
“Yeah,” y/n responded with a soft nod.
Conrad gave y/n an appreciative smile and put the joint away. “Okay”. He sighed as he intentioned shifted his gaze away from the girl who could still get him to do just about anything. “Though it’s not like it matters what one does or doesn’t put in to their body,” he mumbled as he stared at the ocean.
“What do you mean?” Y/n asked. She pushed herself off her elbows so she could see Conrad better.
“You can do it all right,” Conrad began, shaking his head. “And yet, life will still fuck you,” he gloomily said as he gazed into the distance.
“Con,” y/n whispered quietly as she watched him closely. “What’re you talking about?” She questioned hesitantly. Yet, despite her soft approach, Conrad nevertheless mumbled a dejected “nothing” as he once again shut down. Y/n hummed softly and grabbed his hand as she went to lay down. As her head hit the sand, she could feel his eyes on her as he watched her closely in silence. “If, and when, you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here,” she promised.
Conrad curled his lips upwards faintly. He wordlessly shifted and moved to lie down beside y/n. Only once he was completely flat on his back, facing the dark sky did he speak. “Not going to force me to tell you? Or be mad that I don’t?”
“No,” y/n replied tenderly. She gently squeezed Conrad’s hand as she stared at the stars that had begun to shine above them. “That’s not always the best way to handle things,” she said sympathetically. She knew Jeremiah and Belly had likely given him a rough time lately given his behavior. Y/n didn’t want to add to that. She just needed him to know she was here for him.
Conrad turned onto his side so he could face y/n. He leaned forward and blinked slowly as his eyes scanned her. After finding a loose hair floating beside her cheek farthest from him, he cautiously reached over to tuck it behind her distant ear.
Y/n had been watching Conrad calmly despite the way her heart was racing at how close he was. Yet, when his breath hit her nose, she couldn’t help but make a slightly disgusted face. He didn’t smell like himself. “You smell like smoke,” she murmured as her head sunk into the sand a little more to get away from the scent.
Conrad smirked and laughed loudly. “I thought you were wanting to smoke,” he teased.
Y/n bashfully broke eye contact and let go of Conrad’s hand. She playfully pushed him into the sand as she looked away with a quiet laugh.
Conrad grinned and shook his head. “Hey,” he whispered, grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her closer. With his head hovering over hers, he smiled warmly. “Maybe you’re right, maybe some souls don’t change,” he said blissfully.
Y/n smirked shyly. “Told you,” she replied in a whisper.
Conrad laughed and leaned forward. He closed his eyes and kissed y/n’s forehead lips, his lingering on her skin. “I’m glad yours didn’t,” he confessed as he pulled away and laid back down on the sand beside her.
Y/n bit her lip affectionately as she tried to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay. “Yours didn’t either, Con,” she remarked, her tone sure. “You’re still there, and I’ll be here every step of the way as you get that back,” y/n promised as she squeezed his hand.
“He’s such an ass,” Jeremiah hissed as he glared at the patio door that his older brother had just stormed out of.
Y/n shot the younger Fisher a look. “Stop,” she pleaded with a sigh. She hated hearing everyone talking about Conrad behind his back. Especially like this.
“It’s true!” Jeremiah defended loudly as he threw his hands up in the air. “How do you put up with that?” He groaned as he shook his head at y/n in disbelief.
“Just,” y/n sighed again. “Leave him be, please”.
Jeremiah scoffed and raised his eyebrows dramatically. “Why?” He questioned rhetorically. “He doesn’t care about anyone else,” he seethed.
Y/n squinted pointedly at Jeremiah. “Yes he does,” she said in defense of Conrad.
“No he doesn’t,” Jeremiah argued. “I mean come on, he isn’t doing anything this summer,” he began, putting one finger up as though he was making a list.
“He’s angry all the time,” Steven agreed with a frown as he set his beer on the counter.
“You’re reading it all wrong,” y/n protested. She looked out the patio window to see if she could still see Conrad or not. “He’s not angry,” she murmured. He’s hurt. And when Conrad gets hurt, he doesn’t know how to act.
“Y/n,” Belly sighed. She walked over to her friend and set her hand on y/n’s arm sympathetically. She knew what it was like to have a crush on Conrad, except fortunately she’d gotten over it by now. Whereas Belly could tell y/n hadn’t and therefore wasn’t processing what just happened properly. “He just snapped at you for no reason,” she reminded y/n gently.
Y/n shook her head. “He’s not angry,” she mumbled again as she moved away from the group in order to go after Conrad. She knew her friends were just trying to look out for her. But, she knew Conrad. Better than anyone. And she knew that his outburst moments ago was an overreaction to a potentially dangerous situation she’d put herself in. He’d just been trying to look out for her, but his overwhelming emotions made it come out wrong. She didn’t know what those overwhelming emotions were exactly nor what was creating them; but she knew him well enough to know it wasn’t just anger as their friends claimed.
Conrad groaned to himself as he heard footsteps nearing him. He had expected that after his outburst he would be left alone. He’d overreacted when y/n had acted a bit unsafely. But, he didn’t stop there. He went so far as to lash out at her afterwards. He’d seen the worry in her eyes and hoped his subsequent lashing out at her would keep her from following after him. He didn’t want y/n to see him like this. Besides, he didn’t deserve for her to come after him after the way he’d acted.
“Conrad,” y/n greeted quietly as she walked towards him.
“Go away,” Conrad grumbled with his back still to y/n.
“No,” y/n replied defiantly as she continued her approach.
Conrad shook his head. “Y/n knock it off, I’m not in the mood. I want to be alone”.
“That’s a lie,” y/n pointed out as she came within a few feet of Conrad.
Conrad quickly spun around in frustration. “God damnit Y/n!” He shouted.
Y/n’s heart shattered and she nearly gasped as she saw the tears Conrad was trying to hold back. She shook her head and moved closer. She saw the hesitant reaction he had and could see he wanted to keep his guard up. “It’s okay,” she promised quietly. “You don’t need to say anything.” Slowly, y/n made her way across the few feet between them and over to him. She wordlessly wrapped arms around Conrad and held him. It took a few patient moments, but Conrad eventually began to fall apart in her arms. Y/n held him to her tightly as she whispered soft words of support and encouragement as he practically clung onto her.
After Conrad had calmed and a few moments of comfortable silence had passed, he glanced at y/n. “Why didn’t you just ignore me like everyone else?” He wondered. “I’m being an ass,” he admitted.
“You’re hurting, Conrad,” y/n corrected. She noticed the way he froze and as much as she wanted to know what he was thinking, she just smiled sympathetically. “I don’t know why,” she acknowledged. “I’d like to, but I don’t have to know the why in order for me to see what’s really happening”.
“I can’t..-“ Conrad muttered hesitantly. He could see how badly y/n wanted to be there for him; for him to open up so she could. But, he couldn’t. He had to keep this to himself. Even if it was tearing him apart.
“That’s fine,” y/n nodded. She wrapped her arm back around Conrad, it having slipped slightly when he pulled back to look at her. She rubbed his arm as she felt him rest up against her.
Susannah was washing up some dishes from lunch when she overheard Conrad’s name. She sighed to herself as she thought about how strangely her eldest son had been acting lately. She tried to talk to Laurel about it earlier, in hopes that maybe she either had an idea as to why he was behaving this way or that she could get through to him. Conrad has always been close with Laurel, so she felt it was worth a shot.
However, as Susannah eavesdropped on the conversation between y/n and Laurel, she realized her oversight. She hadn’t wanted to get any of the kids involved, especially not when they already seemed equally frustrated with Conrad’s behavior. But, she hadn’t noticed how compassionately y/n had been handling the whole thing. In fact, as she listened to y/n defend Conrad to Laurel just now, Susannah wished she had as much compassion as the girl somehow still had. Susannah knew Conrad had been pushing away his friends, including y/n a lot lately and was being far more difficult with them than he was to Susannah herself. Yet, Susannah had long grown frustrated with her son’s behavior nevertheless. She loved him, so much, but she despised his recent behavior; even if most of it was directed away from her. So she couldn’t help but cherish the way y/n still showed such compassion for Conrad despite being one of the people he was trying so hard to push away.
“I really think you should just let him be,” Laurel commented in a sympathetic tone. “He clearly wants to be left alone,” she pointed out.
“No he doesn’t,” y/n sighed as she sat down on one of the lounge chairs. “He’s just going through something is all,” she shrugged. She didn’t know what more to say. After all, she didn’t want to expose any secret of Conrad’s, not that she even knew what was going on currently; but, still.
Laurel shook her head sadly. “I can see that,” she remarked, “we all can”. She tsked loudly as she continued wiping down the patio side table. “Problem is, he’s too confident and thinks too highly of himself right now”.
Y/n scoffed and stood up. “No he doesn’t,” she argued. How could they all be so dense? Couldn’t they see it was clearly the opposite? Couldn’t they see that Conrad was pushing people away because he was trying to hide the fact that he was uncertain about whatever was troubling him? Y/n still might not know what it was exactly that troubled him, but she knew his actions weren’t from being overly confident.
“Look, Laurel,” y/n said evenly as she tried to maintain her frustration. “I know everyone is upset with him lately,” she sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “But, no one knows what’s truly going on. And talking about him behind his back isn’t going to help anything”. She could tell Laurel was about to reply so she quickly shook her head. “Especially not when you guys are all looking at his actions instead of trying to understand them; to understand him!” She huffed loudly as she began to slowly pace in front of the lounge chair she had once been sitting on. “Maybe you all should stop looking at the behavior and see what triggered it, what caused him to act like that”. Y/n felt sometimes both Conrad’s actions and the triggers showed his underlying emotions, but clearly they weren’t seeing it that way, so she figured changing their focus might help. With that, she shook her head and walked down the patio to the beach to clear her mind.
Susannah finished drying the dishes and made her way to her eldest son’s bedroom. She knocked and waited for permission to open the door. When it finally came, she creaked his bedroom door open and slowly made her way inside. She could tell he hadn’t done much other than be on his phone since lunch. Once again, something that wasn’t like him. Especially not during the summer, and not when y/n was around and free.
“You know,” Susannah whispered as she sat on the edge of Conrad’s mattress. She watched with a small smile as he sat up in response. “I know how you feel about her,” she told him vaguely, knowing he didn’t need her to say the girl’s name to know who she was talking about.
“Mom,” Conrad groaned with a roll of his eyes.
“Do not roll your eyes at me,” Susannah scolded lightly, resulting in Conrad nodding and giving her an apologetic look. “Anyways, Connie,” she continued, “I also know you’re pushing her away for some reason”.
Before Conrad could argue, Susannah held up her hand. “Don’t try to act as if you’re not,” she warned, “you’re pushing everyone away”. “I may not know why you’re doing it,” she sighed, grabbing her sons hand from where it was resting on the bed. “But, you’re only going to cause both of you so much more pain. She somehow seems to understand you better than anyone,” Susannah commented with a tender smile, “maybe even better than you know yourself. She’s stubborn when she cares. So, you can keep causing trouble for yourself and for her, or you can try to let her in again”.
Conrad just stared at his mom for a moment. He knew she was right. But he couldn’t. If his mom truly knew what he was dealing with, she wouldn’t be telling him it was okay to talk to someone else about it. Right? After all, she didn’t want anyone to know about it. That much he knew. But, that was already ruined as he himself knew. Perhaps one more person wouldn’t hurt. Right? Conrad shook his head. “I’m fine, mom,” he said, adding a sigh when she gave him a sad look, “really”.
“Conrad, just breathe,” y/n whispered as she held his upper bicep tenderly. “Just breathe,” she repeated. She’d followed him out from a party where he’d gotten worked up over something minor once again. And now they were on the beach as she tried to help Conrad through what appeared to be a panic attack. “I’m here, just copy my breath,” she advised calmly.
It had taken y/n several tense moments to calm Conrad down. But now they were seated on the cold sand, shoulders touching, as they stared out at the sea. Well, while Conrad stared out at the sea. Meanwhile, y/n was watching his profile closely.
“How often do you get them?” Y/n questioned softly as she took hold of Conrad’s closest hand.
“W-what?” Conrad asked, his gaze snapping towards y/n.
Y/n gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand supportively. “The panic attacks,” she said, pausing when she saw the understanding of his experiences dawn on him. “That’s what they are, Con,” she commented. “I know because I get them too,” she added bashfully.
Conrad’s eyes squinted and he abruptly shifted to see y/n better. “What? Since when? Why didn’t y-“ he began to ask, a thousand worried questions entering his mind.
“Con, breathe,” y/n directly calmly. “I don’t usually get them in the summer,” she admitted. “As you can see, it has to do with stress and anxiety, I tend to have less of that in the summers,” she paused as a timid smile formed on her lips, “or, at least the summers I get to spend here, with you”.
Conrad felt his cheeks heat up as he bit back a smile. Only, his giddiness dissipated quickly. “And I’m ruining that with -“ he began guiltily.
“No,” y/n stated firmly as she turned to face Conrad. She shook her head. “Conrad, you’re not ruining anything,” she promised. “I don’t mind following your moody ass out of parties all summer,” she teased.
Conrad chuckled and shook his head. “I… I want to.. to tell-“ he paused and sighed as he broke eye contact with y/n. He couldn’t tell her. No matter how much it would help to get it off his chest. He didn’t want to make her have to deal with the knowledge of his mother’s condition the way he had been. Even if it meant he would still have to face this alone. “It’s a lot,” he commented vaguely as he looked back out at the waves.
Y/n hummed and leaned her head against Conrad’s shoulder. “I know,” she commented kindly. “You don’t have to tell me,” she added, nuzzling her head deeper against his shoulder. “But because I know you, because souls don’t change,” y/n said, echoing her words from an earlier conversation, “I know you feel you have to face this, whatever this is, alone”. She sighed as she lifted her head off Conrad’s shoulder in order to look him in the eyes. “But you’ve never let me face anything alone,” she smiled, “so I’d really like to help you carry the weight of whatever you’re going through, if you’ll let me”.
Conrad gave y/n a sad but appreciative smile. He reached out and shakingly tucked some loose hair behind her ear. “I want to,” he admitted, “selfishly, I want to”.
Y/n shook her head. “It isn’t selfish,” she corrected, staring back at Conrad. “You’d be letting me do this,” she argued softly.
Conrad laughed lightly. “Some souls never change,” he murmured happily as he gazed into y/n’s patient eyes. He sighed and looked away. “I … I’m not supposed to even know, but I do”.
“I see,” y/n replied slowly. “Well, you don’t have to be alone in that knowledge. And no one else has to know that either of us know,” she promised with a gentle smile.
It took time for Conrad to fully open up about what it was he had been dealing with. But, he was immensely grateful he’d pushed past his reservations to do so. Not only had he and y/n become even closer friends, he could now also not just rely on her support but also benefit from not being alone in his pain. He now had someone who was trying to reassure him that the taunting voices in his head were wrong. Someone who tried to silence the self blaming thoughts that told him it was his fault; that he should’ve seen the signs. It was something he desperately needed, especially on nights like tonight.
Conrad had finally gotten ahold of his breathing; with y/N’s help once again. But, he couldn’t ignore the thoughts that were still bouncing around in his mind. Thoughts that told him he could’ve pretended this. Thoughts that told him off for the way he’d treated everyone as a result of harboring this secret on his own for so long.
Y/n glanced over at Conrad knowingly and mentally sighed in sympathy. She shifted her butt in the sand to see him straight on and smiled when his eyes shifted from the water to meet hers. “Hey,” she commented.
Conrad chuckled and smiled back. “Hey,” he echoed, grabbing y/N’s hand as it rested between them on the sand.
“They’re wrong, ya know,” y/n promised warmly, her eyes focused in on Conrad’s. “The thoughts,” she explained gently.
Conrad felt his cheeks flush as the corner of his lips curled up even more. Of course she’d seen through him and his silence. He shook his head and rugged her hand towards him. He watched silently as y/n shifted in order to comply with his wishes. Once she was curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder again, he sighed. Conrad crooked his head and placed a gentle kiss to the side of y/N’s head. One day he’d offer her more, when he was in the right mental state to do so without risking hurting her along the way should he push people away again. For now, he simply smiled lightly to himself as he whispered, “thank you for understanding me”.
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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: noncon, dark!regulus, fem!squib!reader, use of the imperius curse, degradation, objectification
¡ marauders masterlist !
Regulus didn’t really think he’d have to use it.
You were an obedient thing, eager to serve. And under the impression that he and the others were part of the order, you did just about anything he asked.
You were easy to fool, unaware of any wizarding politics after you were casted away following the reveal of your powers. Or lack there of. Your squib status was all over the daily prophet. He remembered scowling at the moving photo of you behind your parents, looking pathetically weak.
Regulus didn’t understand why he was so infatuated with a filthy squib like you. Much less why you hadn’t seemed to catch on. You just seemed so attentive and observant. The wheels in your mind always seemed to be turning as you tried to piece everything together from the little Regulus and the other death eaters spoke.
But you still couldn’t grasp the meaning of Regulus’ wandering hand and suggestive tone, ignoring his advances completely as your mind was occupied with trying to conspicuously draw information from him. You hadn’t managed to deceive him.
The eagerness to help was to make up for your feelings of inadequacy, he knew that, but the glimmering eyes and growing pupils that would look up at him as you nodded your head, thanking him for allowing you to help made his mind spin with thoughts. His fantasies plagued his mind more often than he cared to admit, embarrassed by the subject of his desire and the fact that he was somehow still yearning when he could just have you.
Regulus expected immediate reciprocation of his fervent touch but instead, he was pushed away mere seconds after his lips touched yours, tongue invading your mouth to taste you instantly. His brow raised as he kept a grip on your shoulder, taking in your widened eyes and your wet lips.
The taste of your lips lingered on his tongue as he stared at you, ears filled with cotton as words flew from your mouth. He cared very little about what you had to say but he loved to watch your mouth tumble open as you fumbled your words before stopping to lick your lips, collecting the remnants of his spit.
He leaned in again, a breathy, "relax," fanning your neck as he pecked the delicate skin he had been waiting to mark. You squirmed, wiggling out of his grasp and staring at him in disbelief with an underlying tinge of fear.
Regulus' patience was already running thin. He was just trying to get off before returning his focus to serving the Dark Lord. You were a useless squib who should've been begging for his touch, realizing that was the only way you were useful.
His wand pressed against your throat and the imperius curse was on his tongue as he pinned you to the wall. Your eyes glazed over, hands dropping to your sides and pleads coming to a halt. You were awaiting his command.
"Are you done?" He asked, condescension dripping from his tone.
You nodded dumbly, "yes."
"Are you gonna let me use you now, squib?" You blinked as he leaned in closer, "you gonna spread those legs for me?"
Another nod, "yes."
"You're a dumb little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, cupping your pretty face. "Kiss me."
Your eyes flickered to lips for a second before you tilted your face upwards, mouth puckered cutely as you pressed your lips to his. It was a light peck, over much too quickly. Regulus licked his lips as you leaned away from him.
"You can do better than that," he said, "kiss me like you mean it."
You leaned back in, giving him a desperate open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue met his, caressing the muscle with your own before you pulled away, suckling on it. Regulus groaned, of course you'd be a good little slut. What else could a weak girl like you possibly be good at?
You looked at him expectantly, lashes fluttering as you as you leaned back in. He could feel your thighs press together, hips moving as he began to slowly grind against you.
His hands slid down your body, bunching around the hem of your skirt and pushing it downwards, "get rid of it."
You obeyed, pressing your thighs together as your cunt was revealed. He took a deep breath, grabbing your face once again to connect your lips and somehow his movements were even more desperate than before as his hand reached your heat. You were so much warmer and softer than he imagined. You tightened around his fingers instantly as he moved you towards your bed.
The head of his cock, poked at your pussy as his tongue roamed your useless mouth. You stayed still, almost in a paralyzed state as his hands roamed your skin and his cock humped the lips of your core.
Your body jolted and you gasped, a tremble moving up your body as a high whine left your lips. Regulus pulled away instantly, catching the final seconds of your orgasm. Your lips were still parted, visibly swollen and your eyes were glazed, struggling to stay open as all the air escaped your lungs.
He felt disgusted by himself for feeling the need to see you do it again. He wanted to watch the way your body changed as you felt the climax building until it reached it's peak. He wanted to feel your body tense and your hole clench around his cock as he fucked into you.
Regulus found your opening easily, slipping in even easier with the help of your dripping slick. Your thighs shook and tried to close instinctively. "Stop," he muttered, "keep them nice and wide."
He relished in the way your pussy pulsed around him and tears began to fill your waterline, no doubt from the sensitivity of your orgasm lingering and the intrusion of his cock becoming deeper with every thrust of his hips.
You felt amazing, an obedient little slut forced to obey his every wish. Regulus thought all squibs should be met with this fate. But no other hole would feel as delicious as you and your warmth.
You came again, fingers digging into the sheets as your back arched and you convulsed. You were even prettier the second time, empty eyes dripping crystals. He felt himself getting closer to his own orgasm as his hips pounded into you sloppily.
"Finally useful," he panted as he spilled into you. He could feel his release shooting deep inside you in ropes. "Aren't you so grateful for me?" Regulus' stomach tightened and he let out a deep moan, feeling himself come down from his climax.
#tw noncon#tw degradation#tw objectification#regulus (belle’s version)#dark!regulus black#dark regulus black#regulus black x reader#dark!regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black smut#regulus smut#dark regulus#regulus black fanfic#regulus black drabble#yandere!regulus black#yandere harry potter#yandere marauders#dark marauders#regulus black imagine#death eater!regulus#dark fic#marauders era#marauders era smut#marauders smut#dark harry potter#harry potter marauders#hp marauders#marauders#regulus black
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WINTER- Interview With The Collector(M)(TW)
“Thank you for making the time for me Miss Kim,” You say as you set down your recorder one last time. Her red hair perfectly contrasted her ghost like skin, her eyes uninterested in this whole ordeal.
“Let’s hurry this along, my pets are quite restless,” Her eyes dropped to the blood swirling in her glass.
“Of course, Kim Minjeong. One of the Twelve elders,” You smile slightly as your pen is ready to take notes of her mannerisms, notes of anything.
“Sadly,” She takes a sip, her eyes fluttering up looking at you, “You’re like me, an Elder.”
“I’m merely a newly turned vampire, nothing more Madam.”
“You must be like the Second Elder,rare occurrence that is.”
“When did you get turned?” You ask her to try to set the interview back onto track, off the topic of you.
“It’s been so long, I remember that snowy night. My blood soaking into the snow around me. I was left for dead. The raid of my little village was traumatic to say the least. The screams of the children, the blood splatter still as vivid as it was in my mind all those years ago.”
“Who turned you?”
“The one that started everything, The First Elder. A fearful man, one not of this world.”
“Where did you go afterwards?”
“I followed him around for a little bit before I found my own way, well more like I was forced to find my own way. Which led me to the other girls, quite a collection of beautiful women.”
“What do they call you, the collector Madam?”
“Follow me,” She stands up, her heels adding little to her height, she’s small. Adorable in your eyes yet deadly. You follow her closely behind, your eyes are shown a sight you weren’t expecting. The cages, the blood splatter, “One of the unfortunate duties of an Elder, I was placed in charge of the criminals, breaking them into my pets.”
You look around the cells, each one of the “inmates” have a collar around their neck, their eyes fixated on her as she seemingly glides across the room. They have a scowl looking at you, after she leaves their sight, “They are… unsightly.”
“Very, but they’re cute sometimes. Other times, they’re nuisances.”
“So why not treat them like actual inmates?” You inquire as you follow closely behind her back to her room
“When I first got this assignment from the First Elder, I did treat them as such, regular beatings and torture. But after half a decade, it grew stale. So I changed my methods… is that a problem?” She looks at you, her eyes staring into your very soul. You could only shake your head as a slight smile etched itself across her face, “You’re going to have to meet the First elder eventually. He dislikes people with the powers of an Elder to be unaccounted for.”
“How do I meet him?” You ask as the two of you make it back to her room, as she wraps her hand around your tie, pushing you back into the chair. Straddling you, her dress bunches up around her thighs, your eyes lingering little longer than they should’ve as she makes you look at her.
“He will meet you,” her lips graze across your neck, shivers run down your spine as her fangs do the same. She takes off your tie and tears your shirt open, buttons scattering across the floor. Her fangs sink into your neck, your hands squeeze her thigh, and her ass. The pleasure seems to increase ten fold. She finally pulls back, the crimson red staining her lips and dripping down her chin. The beauty of the sight before you, a living painting straddling you. You kiss her, getting a taste of your own blood. Her arms wrap around your neck, as your hands find the zipper of her dress. She pulls away standing up, letting her dress fall to the floor. Red lingerie that matches her hair, perfectly matching with her milk white skin. She smirks as she watches your eyes travel across her body, turning around, slowly walking to the bed and leaning to it. Her eyes invite you over, you walk over in a trance, “Good boy,” She whispers into your ear as you kiss neck falling back onto the bed, her nails glide across your back as she fully takes off your blood stained shirt. Your fangs find themselves deep into her neck, her blood metallic yet the sweetest thing you have ever tasted, her moans in your ear drives you crazy. Pulling away from her neck, stained in the crimson liquid. You can’t help but smirk. Pulling off her panties, soaking wet, She spreads her legs for you to get a good look. Your tongue licks circles around her clit. Her hand gripping on your hair as the other grips the sheets as you eat her out, your eyes never leaving her face. Her back arches as you eat her more diligently, letting her taste flood your senses, “Fuck! I-I’m going to cum!” She screams as she cums, drenching the sheets beneath her.
Backing up, pulling off your trousers. Letting your cock out of its confines, she slides down onto her knees between the bed and you. Peppering kisses up and down your shaft, her tongue licking you from base to tip. She finally takes you into her mouth, only managing to get half way down your shaft before she gags, her soft cold hands stroke as she swirls her tongue around your tip. She smiles as she can feel your hardness in her hand, pulling you out of her mouth, spit bridges the gap from her mouth to your cock. You can’t hold back and shove yourself back into her mouth. Your hand wrapped up in her hair as thrust in and out of her mouth. Tears falling from her eyes, you pull out watching the spit fall from her mouth, the tears staining her cheeks. You pull her up off the floor, pushing her back onto the bed. Spreading her legs quickly, she’s wetter than before. You stretch her out with your tip first before sliding in the rest, She’s the tightest you’ve ever had. Her moans start to fill the room, as you bury yourself in her, “Fuck,” You can’t help it as you start to thrust slow and hard, her nails already digging into your back. Pushing her legs back as you pick up your pace, getting into the mating press. You fuck her faster and deeper, making sure she can feel all of you.
“FUCK! You’re so fucking big!” She screams out as her nails draw blood from your back, Her legs shaking as you sink your fangs back into her neck as you give her your all. Her sweet blood and her. Her,her,her,her,her,and just her in general overwhelms your mind, body, and soul. Pulling away from her neck and pushing fully into her, looking down at the stomach bulge. She smiles running her hand over it, “Fuck me, make me yours Y/n,” She doesn’t have to tell her twice as you start pumping into her, your climax is coming and quick as she tightens around you as she reaches hers adding to the soaked sheets. You thrust faster and harder into her pussy as you reach yours, filling her with your load. You catch your breath still buried in her, “You better keep fucking me.”
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Hii! Hand her over anon here~
I'd like the same characters, skip the sex scenes (or not as you like), boys reaction after it happend with Mikey (worried husbands agenda)
ORDER UP SQUIDWAAAAAAAAAAARRRDDDDDDD
Hand Her Over (Part 2): Ran Haitani/ Rindou Haitani/ Kakucho Hitto/ Sanzu Haruchiyo x Fem!Reader
tw: nsfw, angst
wc: 1.3k
masterlist
Hand Her Over Megapost
Sanzu Haruchiyo
"Oi." Sanzu sees you flinch when he calls out to you. You're sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," you reply, hurrying to close your robe and scurry into the bathroom. Sanzu stands in the bedroom, aloof, trying not to think too hard about what happened right in front of his eyes a mere fifteen minutes ago.
There's no remorse behind his musings. He's pleased and more than satisfied with the events. It's just that they made him so...
"Mind if we... shower together?" Sanzu wonders, peering at you as you let the robe slip from your figure. You nod a few times silently, then step into the already-running fixture. Sanzu follows close behind you, still rock hard despite letting himself go (all over the carpet) earlier.
You don't touch yourself with any of the washing instruments, but Sanzu sees this as a moment to show his tender side. "Would you like for me to wash you?"
"Sure," you breathe, the words barely a whisper over the shower sound. Sanzu's hands caress your backside, touching you carefully and sweeping over the hickies with reverence. Just a reminder of the gift Mikey was given and enjoyed thoroughly.
Sanzu doesn't ask if you liked it; he knows you did. The cum between your legs is evidence of your and Mikey's enjoyment. "Hold on," Sanzu murmurs, sinking to his knees. "Let me clean you here." Sanzu lifts your right leg, and - under the spray of the shower - he places his mouth against your cunt.
It's intoxicating - the taste of Mikey on his tongue - and he flicks his eyes up to his wife with a building sensation of utter contentment. He notices how you hold on to the shower wall and the quivering of your lip, but he says nothing about it.
He's too busy tasting every drop of cum left inside of you. His tongue laps at your hole greedily, sucking and flicking as much as he can to tease one last orgasm out of you. Sanzu's free hand wraps around his cock and strokes slowly, circling around the tip effortlessly before settling against his shaft and going back up again.
"Haru," you murmur, placing a hand on his wet hair. "Please..."
Sanzu continues to suck on your clitoris harshly, praying you'll cum before him. You cry out and push him closer, hissing while you cum on his chin. Sanzu moans and groans with you, cumming as he laps up whatever you give him.
"That's my girl," he whispers finally, licking his mouth and chin happily. "Always so good for me."
Ran Haitani
Ran is furious.
"I told him no!" He roars, swiping the vase off the foyer table, letting it crash against the marble flooring. Rindou is standing by, letting his brother rage wildly, destroy his own property, and tear apart the entire home.
"You heard what I said!" Rindou doesn't even flinch when his brother points at him.
"I heard what you said."
"And now..." Ran huffs, the rage leaving him in great gasps of air. Rindou watches his brother collect himself, push his loose strands away from his face, and readjust his dress shirt. Rindou supposes the worst is over, but Ran stalks into his bedroom, then comes out as he's pushing a clip into his gun.
"Ran, what in the hell are you doing?"
"I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago," he breathes calmly. The old baton resurfaces, too, and Rindou hurries to his side.
"Ran," Rindou whispers, holding his brother's wrist. "This isn't part of the plan."
"Neither was Mikey's little stint this afternoon," Ran mutters, shoving the gun in the holster. "But we can make it right."
"What are you going to tell y/n? She's waiting for you at the--"
"Tell her I'll see her soon," Ran answers, striding toward the front door. "I just have to tie up some loose ends."
Rindou Haitani
"Are you safe?"
"I"m fine," you whisper into the phone shakily. "Everything's fine."
"You're not hurt?"
"No, baby." Rindou shivers, feeling more relieved than worried. You could take care of yourself, and it wasn't unlike you to get yourself to a safe place should things get hairy.
"When are you coming home?" Rindou asks the question without thinking, but he hopes that when you answer, you'll be honest.
You pause, then reply softly, "I'm coming home tomorrow." Shock floods through Rindou's veins, and he smiles to himself. You're coming home early, for once.
"I'll be here when you get back."
"I would hope so," you chuckle. "Kind of want some cuddles from my favorite guy." If there was a way for Rindou to show his absolute gratefulness to the universe, he'd kiss the ground you walked on for the rest of his life.
"Lucky for you, I have tons of cuddles," Rindou teases, placing his arm around the back of the couch as if you were there. "Might be able to fill that need for ya."
"Okay, you ruined it." Rindou cackles, relishing in the secondhand embarrassment.
"You love me, just admit it, already."
"I do," you admit. "And thank you for warning me ahead of time with the whole Mikey thing." Rindou sobers up, not sure what he would do if Mikey actually assaulted you like he intended to.
"It's because I love you," Rindou murmurs, feeling his heart beat wildly. "And I promised to protect you. No matter what."
Kakucho Hitto
"Shh, shh, shh..."
Kakucho is stroking your hair lovingly like he used to right after you got married. He's lying beside you, holding you close and protecting you, like he should have before.
"I'm sorry."
You're deathly still, holding onto his arms in silence and breathing shallowly. Flashes of the confrontation rock Kakucho's brain, jostling it around like he's in a turbulent airplane. And they hurt, the thoughts. His skull must be bruised inside with how much his head aches.
"I'm going to run a bath for you." Kakucho knows that this is a temporary solution - not something that'll fix the real problem. His fingers shake violently as he tries to turn the knob for the tub, but he can't seem to get it right on the first, second, or third try.
And then, he's breaking down at the side of the tub, whimpering silently as he tries to figure out what to do next. "I need to leave," he chants, reaching up to turn the knobs again. "I need to leave." A hand comes down on top of his, and there you are, standing next to him. Crystalline tears slide down your beautiful cheeks, and Kakucho wipes his face quickly.
"I..." You turn the knob for him, and warm water gushes out into the tub.
"Don't," you hum, holding his chin. "Don't blame yourself." Kakucho leans his head into your round stomach, listening to the silence his child can thrive in.
"I let them," he croaks, voice raw from screaming and crying and trying to make Mikey stop. "I let them hurt you... I let them hurt our child..."
"No," you whisper, stooping down to his level and holding his face in your hands. "I love you. You didn't do anything. You couldn't." Kakucho's heart breaks, and he leans into your shoulder and bawls. You stroke his hair - and this feels wrong; he should be comforting you - and Kakucho tries to find his bearings, holding you incredibly close.
"I'm going to leave Bonten," he finally concludes. "I'm taking you and our child and leaving this hell." You nod, and Kakucho kisses your tears away before helping you up.
"Let's take a bath and talk about this," you urge him, leaning into his embrace. "I'll follow you wherever you go. I promise."
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers smut#ran haitani#sanzu haruchiyo x reader#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu haruchiyo smut#ran haitani x reader#kakucho hitto x reader#kakucho hitto#rindou haitani x reader#rindou haitani
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Cigarettes & Wine | M. Healy | 1
'I want a photo of you in my bed, to carry with me when I go out west.'
In which Sadie and Matty have a very brief, very awkward, and very anxious encounter, Sadie gets very flustered but quickly finds herself fitting in with the group of rowdy boys and too many feelings are felt for her teenage brain.
warnings: drug use, implied alcoholism, implied parental neglect, my sweet angel sadie being a sweet angel.
word count: 8.5k
a/n: soo .. hiiii! i am juniper and im begging you guys bear with me i have Never posted on here before. BUUUUTT i am vvvv nervous and excited to be posting this but it's been in the works for tooooo long. begging and screaming to be let out of the word doc its been confined to. so here we are i guess. pls enjoy sadie and matty they are my Children. if the title wasn't hint enough.. this is only part one.
Sadie has had the most stressful morning of her entire life. Her tie is untied around her neck and the only thing she cares to grab hold of is her camera. Her entire life is on that thing, and although she may be merely 14, her camera is her child. She hears her mother huffing at the bottom of the stairs and straightens up to catch a look of herself in the mirror, a mess, as she suspected. Her shirt is buttoned up wrong, her skirt is half tucked into her tights, she has on one Mary Jane and her backpack’s contents are strewn messily across her bedroom floor. With some swear words muttered along the way she is in the car within five minutes and her mum is chewing her out for being late to her first day of Year 10, which she couldn’t really care less for.
“I’ll see you tonight, mum! Love you!” Sadie slams the car door before she can hear her mums reply and heads into the school she’s grown to know quite well. She’s fallen into a friend group with some girls that she thinks will do for her high school endeavours, but Sadie already knows she’s destined for bigger than the small town of Wilmslow. Somebody else who thinks this way is Matty Healy, the boy who’s just gone into Year 11. Sadie has noticed him before, they both tend to frequent the music department, Sadie finds it visually appealing for her photo collection, whereas Matty finds it appealing to the ears, especially his own guitar strumming. Any time their paths cross Sadie bows her head and pretty much runs in the opposite direction, face as red as the wine her mum drinks when the sky gets dark.
As Sadie enters the front of the school she signs in late at the front and heads to her class, putting her camera in her backpack as she approaches her English class. She sighs and opens the door with stuttered apologies for being late, Sadie might be confident and come across as such but that doesn’t mean her 14 year old brain isn’t scared of high school teachers and their strictness. She stumbles to her seat and sits down, accidentally throwing her bag at her feet once she gets out the book the class are in the middle of silently reading. Even though she doesn’t know why the class is reading on the first day she’s thankful for it because it lets her mind wander, her dreams of being a famous photographer is what her mind favours over ‘A Tale Of Two Cities’, Sadie finds Dickens to be boring. She prefers the Brontë sisters.
When lunchtime finally rolls around Sadie is where she can normally be found, the music department. Her camera is lazily slung around her neck, her backpack having been left with her friends in the library. She favours avoiding the gossip for finding inspiration in the usual practice rooms, the ones she hasn’t found inspiration in for a while now. She spent every day before the Summer holidays begging whoever might be looking down on her for something to take a photo of. Somebody else had been wandering the same corridors as Sadie. Everyone in her year talks about Matty Healy, “the boy in the year above with a natural affinity for the guitar he’s always carrying around the school carried a naturally mysterious air.” Sadie can’t think of a single girl in her year who wasn’t utterly obsessed with every move of Matty Healy. Including herself, even if she’s very hesitant to admit it, an admirer from afar per se. She likes to think of him more in the sense of ‘his appearance is inspiring to her camera’. Sadie was looking down at her feet, frowning at the scuffed shoes she wore for the entirety of Year 9 when she felt a larger figure bump into her. As she looks up and sees Matty with a guitar case in his hand she can’t help the pink tint that rises on her cheeks.
“Oh! Erm, sorry!” Sadie somehow manages to force the words out of her mouth. She seems to have the same shyness about her when talking to Matty that she does when looking her English teacher in the eye. An interesting discovery. She loses herself in overthinking the tone she just took with Matty when she hears him reply to her, something she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.” He meets her eyes and genuinely seems like he couldn’t care less about her mistake, he seems to take more notice of her camera, his head tilts and his eyes squint in the direction of it hanging limply on her neck. She seems to grow more confident in herself when she realises he’s looking at her camera, she knows she’s good at photography, that’s something she could talk about endlessly. Matty lifts a finger and points to said camera. “You any good?”
Her eyes widen slightly at the question, and she clears her throat at the same time her head begins incessantly nodding, she is acting crazy. She then begins to overthink her nodding. Why is she overthinking so much? Maybe she’s just having an off-day. She decides that she nodded like that because she knows she’s a great photographer, why would she not be overconfident about it? Seems normal enough.
“Cool. Can I see any?” This is when Sadie’s heart rate picks up. She doesn’t know why; she doesn’t want to know why. She also does not want to know why he is asking her this. Matty’s question has sent her brain into full blown panic mode, maybe she does want to know why he’d like to see her photos. What could possibly intrigue him about her? The squint tie around her neck? Her incredibly dirty Mary Janes? In her 14-year-old brain she decides he fancies her. She’d come to find out in many, many years that she was, in fact, right.
“If you want? I’m bringing my hard drive tomorrow for my art class, they’re letting me use my photos this year, meet me at the library?” She says this with a coy smile on her face, in her head she is feeling a lot less coy because of the way Matty is smirking at her. What she doesn’t know is that he is looking down at her with a smirk because her face is so red that he thinks there’s something wrong, maybe it was something he’d said? After a beat of silence, he blinks down at her with a nod, and they bid their goodbyes. Once Sadie is sure Matty has turned the corner she lets out a silent squeal before quickly bolting to the school’s library and sitting down at the table her friends are at, she might not view them in any light, but they do love gossip. She takes a moment to catch her breath before turning to her friend sat beside her, “Matty Healy wants to see my photos. I have no idea why.”
Suffice to say Sadie didn’t sleep a wink that night. She sneaked through to her dad’s office to edit photos on the family computer at midnight when she was sure everyone was sleeping and when she was sure the photos were on her hard drive she went back to bed and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. She then had to drag herself to school the next morning, early, to meet Matty before classes. She had no energy to even be nervous, the eyebags on her face spoke for themselves. She all but flopped down on the seat next to the boy who held in his laugh at the sight of her. “Don’t laugh! I had to edit some of these photos before you saw them, and my bloody dad wouldn’t get off the computer last night, so I had to do it after he was sleeping! Anyways, wanna see?” When Matty nods with a smile she rifles through her backpack for her hard drive.
After silently looking through her photos for, like, three whole minutes, Matty turns to Sadie with a single nod. “So, I’m in a band. I think they’d love these. How about you come to our next practice and take some photos of us? See if they like what you do?” Sadie is now a mere puddle in her computer chair. She doesn’t speak in fear of her mouth betraying her, what would she even say? She nods for a while; she doesn’t know how long she nods for, but she knows it’s been a while.
“Yup, sounds good. Yeah, cool. Cool. Where do you guys practice?” Sadie doesn’t know what the fuck is coming out of her mouth. She is word vomiting all over Matty’s shoes. She wants to apologise but she isn’t sure she remembers the English language. Why is she so nervous? Oh, probably just because the guy that every single one of her peers fawns over is currently asking her to make him and his bandmates her next subject of inspiration. Her next muse. What even is her life.
“At my house. I’ll write the address down for you, hang on.” Sadie’s mouth has gone dry. Now she’s truly forgotten the English language. This can’t be real, and this certainly can’t be happening to Sadie. Matty Healy is writing down his home address for her to have. Not to even mention his literal famous mum and dad. She reaches her hand under the computer desk and pinches her thigh over her wool tights, it doesn’t hurt but she’s now sure this is actually happening. Sadie takes the paper from Matty and tries to process the date and time he’s reciting at her. They’re interrupted by the morning bell and when Matty holds the library door open for her she waves goodbye, bows her head and speedwalks away from him.
Sadie really tries to focus in her classes that day but it doesn’t work in the slightest, all she can think about is Matty Healy and she curses him for it. She tries to read some romance novel when she gets home but she starts picturing the characters as her and Matty and has to put it down. He has unknowingly taken over her brain, and she resents him for it. Can’t a girl even read in peace?! She took pride in being the only girl in her year who didn’t have a crush on Matty, now she can’t even hold that above his head.
By the time Friday rolls around Sadie is already over school, she never tended to like school, but she already knows that Year 10 is going to be dreadful. The one saving grace might come in the form of a boy in the year above. She leaves school and runs home to get changed before she heads to Matty’s address. She has cherished the crumpled piece of paper that held his address since she got it on Tuesday morning, she taped it to her mirror and that is where it will stay. It isn’t like she hasn’t come home every night from school and studied it, she knows exactly where she’s going.
Her shaky hand knocks on the door of said address about an hour later, she biked over from her house and actually enjoyed the ride, the early September sun was shining on her face and lighting up the bumpy country road she took to get here. Her thoughts are interrupted by a lively woman, quite aggressively, swinging the front door open. Sadie smiles up at her with squint eyes because of the sun attacking them, making the blue of her irises look probably insane. “Um, hi? I’m Sadie, Matty invited me to watch his band practice and take some photos of them.” Sadie lazily points to the camera around her neck with an awkward smile. She is coming across very poorly. But alas the woman opens the door wider.
“Oh! He never mentioned, he doesn’t tend to tell me these things though, typical teenager! I’m Matty’s mum, just call me Denise though, sweetheart. They should be in the garage.” Denise walks Sadie to the garage door where she can hear the loud laughter of teenage boys and obnoxious drumbeats. She smirks slightly and thanks Denise, accepting her offer of a can of coke. Once she takes it she enters the garage, and the laughter dies down. “Sadie’s here, boys, she’s very lovely so I don’t want to hear of any teasing or making fun.”
Sadie looks down at her feet as Denise defends her, even though the boys haven’t yet uttered a word. She hears the garage door close behind her and Matty gestures her over to him. He very casually, like it’s nothing, throws an arm over her shoulder and begins introducing her to the three other boys in his garage. She already knows George from a couple of her classes due to them being in the same year, but she lets Matty speak at her anyways. “So, Sades, this is Adam, he plays guitar and he's in the year above me, basically he’s old. That’s Ross, he does the bass, but I think he just pretends to know what he’s doing. And that’s George, obviously he plays the drums, but he just makes a fucking racket.” Sadie flushes at how casually he gestures, how casually his arm is around her, how casually he swears, and how casually he calls her ‘Sades’. That’s a new one.
“Um, hi, I’m Sadie it’s nice to meet you guys. Matty was singing your guys’ praise on Tuesday morning. Been looking forward to this since.” Sadie’s forearm has suddenly become very itchy, and she busies herself in looking around the garage in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the aforementioned boys. She notices a few posters on the exposed walls and a couple of guitar cases strewn across the floor, the last thing she notices is a battered leather couch against the wall, facing all of the boys and their many instruments and poor cable management. Sadie leaves Matty’s side and takes a seat on it, placing her coke on the floor and taking the lens cap off her camera.
The practice is well under way and Sadie’s mind has been racing with thoughts of how she’d shoot the band at an actual show. She finally gains the courage to stand up and has failed to notice Matty’s eyes on her the entire time he’s been singing. None of the other boys seem to notice either, Matty doesn’t even realise what he’s doing. When they finish up the last song they wanted to practice (for probably the tenth time), they start chatting about things they should do differently, and Sadie busies herself by looking at her photos on the couch. She gets caught up in them and doesn’t feel the sofa sink next to her, she looks up and sees George looking over her shoulder. “Any good photos of me?”
Sadie can’t help the pink on her face as she nods and turns her camera to him, showing him the few photos she got of him. She found it difficult to get good angles of George considering the size of the garage they were practising in, him being shoved into the back corner. As George was flicking through photos Sadie couldn’t help but study his face, his brows were slightly furrowed as he fiddled with the buttons on her camera, not knowing how to work it. He smirked at a few photos and his eyes scanned over the rest, when he looked up Sadie was suddenly very interested in the opening of her can of coke. She has no idea why she can’t look at any of the boys without her heart rate picking up and her face going bright pink. Maybe because she thinks they’re actually quite cool and she has no idea why she would possibly be sitting in Matty’s garage with them all. But she is.
The next time she has a run in with the band is a week and a half later when they all spot her in the lunch hall and wildly gesture her over. She had spotted them first and tried to look around to avoid them. She really wishes she knew why her subconscious was forcing her away from the boys. (She’s terrified she’ll embarrass herself. That’s why). She gets herself together and heads over to the table they’re sat at, awkwardly placing her bag at her feet. She murmurs something that could be perceived as a “hi” but honestly it could have been anything. “Have you edited the photos yet? We are highly anticipating them.” Sadie nods her head excitedly, glad that the topic is on her photos, something she actually is passionate about.
“Yeah! Yeah, they’re on a hard drive that you guys can have, I forgot to bring it with me today though. I’ll bring it tomorrow?” Matty nods and falls into conversation with the boys, who also include Sadie, sitting there helpless, unsure if she should get up and go to her friends. She dares to glance in their direction and when she sees them blowing fake kisses because of the curly haired boy she’s sat with she rolls her eyes and turns back around. She reminds herself that they are her surface level friends, they have nothing in common whatsoever, they’re too caught up in gossip. Sadie is too caught up in her camera. They don’t gel.
Sadie manages to fall into a conversation with Ross about English and their mutual enjoyment for the subject, she finds it incredibly random but she’s glad to have something in common with one of the boys. She relished in the conversation not being surface level drama that brought a yawn out of her throat, she also relishes in her slight ranting about her passions actually being listened to. Sadie likes Ross and his listening skills. When the bell rings she finds herself bewildered at the fact she doesn’t want to get up from the table, she’d quite like to stay and timidly laugh at the boys’ jokes and general noisiness. But, alas, she must head to the aforementioned English class, she makes a joke to Ross about how she’d rather go anywhere else. They share a hatred for Sadie’s teacher, him having had her for the previous school year. She finds herself falling into step with George, they’re already five minutes late.
They wave a goodbye to the rest of the boys who all disperse into different classes and walks silently with George. They pass by a few people that make them share glances to each other, grimaces present on their faces. Anytime this happens they both laugh and shove into one another until they reach the fated English hallway and George reaches into his bag and pulls out two sheets of handwritten papers. Sadie’s face basically turns into a question mark. “What? It’s the homework?” Upon seeing Sadie’s heart basically fall to her toes George can’t help but let out a baffled laugh. “Don’t tell me you haven’t done it.”
“Shit, George.”
The colder the weather gets the more Sadie begins to feel like an integral member of the group. She’s the one to tell the boys to shut up when they’re talking too loudly. She’s the one to shove Matty anytime he makes another member of the group the butt of his jokes. She’s also the one to tell him when his singing sounds shit. Sadie has been quite the talk of the town recently because of this, her old friends are spreading all kinds of rumours due to her gradually dropping them in favour of the boys. Although anytime Ross catches wind of these in the school corridors he’s quick to shut it down, whether it be defending her or physically getting involved… at least he's there!
The band are meeting up for their last practice before Christmas Day and Sadie is beside herself with excitement, she hasn’t seen the boys since the school broke off for the holidays on the 17th. She wakes up that morning already excited but when she opens her curtains and sees snow she swears under her breath, she couldn’t possibly drag her bikes weak tyres through the thick snowfall. So, she slides her panda slippers onto her feet and heads downstairs, finding her mum in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a cigarette in hand. “Morning, mum! Would you be able to give me a lift to Matty’s later? I was gonna bike over, but it must’ve snowed pretty hard last night.” When she hears the sigh escape her mum’s mouth and the slight thud of her palm on the counter she knows she’s not getting a lift.
Denise was expecting Sadie, she’d grown to expect the young girl’s presence around the house at any given time. But what Denise wasn’t expecting was to open up the door to Sadie, bike in hand, tears staining her bright red cheeks, and no hat on her head. This just wouldn’t do. “Oh! Sadie, sweetheart, what happened? Come in, out of the cold now, just dump the bike, that’s fine. Why did you bike here?” Sadie tries to speak but her brain seems to think that letting a sob rack her body is the smarter way to go about this.
“Mum wouldn’t give me a lift, said she had more important things to be seeing to. Had no choice.” Denise immediately puts the kettle on and wraps the girl up in a blanket, rubbing her shoulders after forcing her to take a seat at the kitchen island. Sadie can hear the boys upstairs and is glad of Denise calming her down and talking to her before she has to face them. After Denise gives her a telling off for not, at least, putting on a scarf, she turns to Sadie with an eyebrow raised. She just sighs. “She does this all the time. Feel like a nuisance at that house. Always in the way.”
Upon hearing this Denise circles the kitchen island and crowds her into a hug which she can’t help but accept. After a beat of silence occasionally broken up by Sadie’s sniffles, the two part, Denise keeping her at arm’s length. “You shouldn’t feel like a nuisance. Listen, any time you come here I’m delighted, probably because you balance the testosterone levels a bit, but not just that, you’re the kindest young lady I’ve ever gotten to meet, and it’s always a pleasure to have you at the house, you keep my boys in check. Now, if you ever feel like this again, phone my number from your house phone, and I’ll come pick you up, can’t have you biking in the snow anymore.”
Sadie nods her head at Denise’s words, letting out a slightly weepy laugh anytime she makes a dig at the boys. She feels strangely warm inside, despite the subzero temperatures she was just faced with, and she doesn’t know why. She’s never felt safer than when Denise took her hand on the kitchen island. Matty’s house is now her safe space she’s decided. Speak of the devil, Sadie hears a clatter from the stairs behind her and when she turns she sees Matty’s eyes light up. “Sades! You made it! I thought you weren’t gonna come because of this snow, glad to see you though, George is chatting shit about your English teacher again. Something about holiday homework, help me take some juice up?”
Sadie takes the blanket with her and with a smile in Denise’s direction she waddles over to the fridge. She makes sure to finish her tea before grabbing a can of coke. Another thing she likes about the Healy house is the constantly stocked fridge, anytime she needs a drink there seems to be one on hand. Almost akin to Mary Poppins handbag. She takes one of the cans Matty is juggling with a giggle and bids goodbye to Denise before heading up the stairs. Matty entertains this journey by telling her that his dad had taken Louis, his younger brother, out to build a snowman a half hour ago and Sadie laughs at the image of his rosy cheeks and tiny hands grasping at snowflakes. She dotes on Louis, always having wanted a younger sibling, she treats him like her own brother.
When the door to Matty’s bedroom opens she smiles at the sight, three boys strewn across the room in one big, lazy mess. They all seem to perk up at the sight of Sadie, George especially. “Thank fuck you’re here, need help with this homework, my mum told me to have it finished before Christmas. And Ross, miserable bastard, is refusing to help me. Have you done it?” Sadie sets down Adam’s can of coke on the desk, cracking her own open before sitting criss-cross on the floor beside George. She nods at him over the can, and he can’t help but cheer and push it towards her, struggling on the carpet. “You’re so much better than me at English. Read what I have.” She sets down her can and skims over what George has written.
“Oh dear, I’ll help you after practice.” At this the boys all glance at each other and the room falls silent. Did she say something? I mean, they’re here for practice, right? Right. Sadie has just missed it, her treacherous journey to the Healy house took longer than usual, and she left late. “Have you already practiced?” When faced with four nodding boys, Sadie sighs and nods too. “That’s okay, we can just hang out, then.” Matty looks at her with a sympathetic grimace. He overheard more of her conversation with his mum than he originally let on.
Matty decides that changing the subject entirely is the best thing he can do in this situation, he doesn’t want to force her to talk about why she was crying to his mum. “We liked the most recent photos you took, really cool. Think you left some of your ones for art on the hard drive, there was a random shot of some leaf in the middle of Ross’ closeups.” Sadie shakes her head, feeling her eyes roll involuntarily. “I mean it was a good leaf photo, I just don’t think it’s our vibe.” Her head is thrown back in a giggle as she takes another sip of her coke.
“You should consider yourself lucky, getting to see my leaf photos. They are very close to my heart.” All Matty can do at this is scoff, he is now the one rolling his eyes. Sadie’s attention is diverted by a sheet of paper being waved in her face. She turns to George with a slight glare, and he backs into himself a bit. “Fine. What do you not understand? It’s just English.”
“I just don’t get it. English doesn’t make sense, I think you’ve forgotten that I am a well-travelled man, Sadie. I’ve been all over the place.” Sadie fixes the boy with a sigh, a straight-faced sigh. She lets his sentence linger in the air as she readjusts on the bedroom floor. She lays on her front as she reads what George has written. It’s not bad, but it’s also not great. And so, she tells him such.
“I mean, it’s not bad, but it’s not great. You could maybe, I don’t know, sprinkle in an adjective here or there, don’t think that would hurt.” Is all she manages to get out before a pillow is lobbed, quite forcefully, at her head. In retaliation she throws the paper back at George. “Well, you can do it yourself then, can’t you?”
“No, no, no! Sadie I didn’t mean it! My hand slipped!”
As the day turned to night the boys gradually left until it was just Matty and Sadie left sitting on his floor, sharing chips that Denise had cooked for them. Sadie put one in her mouth and glanced out the window, noticing it was snowing again, the sigh that came out of her mouth wasn’t meant to sound quite as pathetic as it did. Matty stopped strumming on his guitar and turned to her with furrowed brows, at the sudden silence she met his eyes. “I can’t bike home in this weather.”
“Why did you even bike here in the first place? And why were you crying?” Sadie shakes her head and breaths out a laugh. How does she even answer this? She could be honest, lay her cards on the table, and tell him all about her mum. Or she could be partially honest and tell him that her mum just doesn’t make time for her. Or she could blatantly lie, she’s on her period or something like that. As she weighs up her options she lets out a barely audible hum and Matty cocks his head at her.
“It’s just my mum. She never makes time for me. Refused to give me a lift and I didn’t want to cancel so I biked here. That’s all, I’m okay now, spending time with you guys makes me okay.” Matty’s head falls to rest on Sadie’s shoulder silently. He doesn’t know what to say to her, so he just starts strumming the guitar again. A smile rests on Sadie’s slightly pink cheeks as she hums along to the song Matty is playing, she doesn’t know it to name, but she definitely knows it. “I didn’t think I’d actually make friends in high school.” Matty doesn’t say anything for a minute, processing Sadie’s words.
“Of course you were gonna make friends. I think you’re too good to just be our friend, frankly I’m shocked you put up with our bullshit.” Another beat of silence falls upon the pair. “Just come here if your mum’s being a pain, we’ll cheer you right up.” Sadie smiles at this and feels tears brimming her eyes, and she doesn’t know why. At the sudden sound of the door opening Matty lifts her head and Sadie rubs at her eyes.
“Right, Sadie, I’ve just tried phoning your house phone three times to no answer, so the spare room is set up for you, let me know when you pair decide to sleep.” Sadie doesn’t hear much of what Denise said after hearing that her house was phoned three times, and nobody answered. What if something had happened to her? She sighs and smiles up at Denise from the floor, thanking her before picking at the loose pieces of carpet on the floor. When the door shuts, the tears flow. Matty has never been more panicked in his entire life, he thinks. How the fuck do you comfort your crying best friend?!
“Hey, hey. Come here.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder and all she can do is sigh. She knows if she speaks it’ll end in even more tears, her voice will refuse to work. She gives in and leans into Matty’s touch, the weather outside is a stark contrast to how she feels under his arm. After a few minutes of her silently crying, she dares a glance up at him and sees him staring at the wall across from him with slightly widened eyes, the sight makes her giggle, breaking him from his trance. He looks down at her and joins in the laughter, not knowing why they’re laughing but glad she’s not crying as hard anymore. Yet his eyes widen again when she stops laughing and opens her mouth.
“I want to know why they don’t care about me. I haven’t done anything.” Matty sighs at this, a sick part of his brain wishes he could relate just so he’d know what to say. He looks down at Sadie who is now lying on his floor, upside down from where he sits. He lays down next to her, top and tail, both teenagers looking up at the ceiling, feeling things too big for them to even comprehend, things they shouldn’t have to feel. “Sorry, I feel like the mood is ruined.”
“What mood? You’ve been off all day, making me feel sad. I wish I could make it better.”
“I wish you could, too.”
Sadie has no desire to celebrate her 15th birthday that following Summer. But she’s been faced with no choice. In George’s words they “had to because you only turn 15 once.” George had turned 15 earlier that year and didn’t seem to share that sentiment on his birthday, all they did was go to Matty’s house after school and sit in his living room for six hours. But he was insistent that the group had to go out for dinner, he’d gotten Denise on his side which ultimately led to Sadie agreeing. Her mother wasn’t best pleased, but she’d grown to not care, and her mothers grown to know she can’t fight her anymore.
She got dressed in rapid speed, desperate to get out of the house and reunite with her best friends. She hadn’t even gotten as much as a card from her parents and that says more to her than any words could have, she isn’t even sure they know her birthday is today. Pulling on her jeans, probably quicker than the speed of light, she grabs her jacket and runs down the stairs, she shouts a bye to anyone who cares and hops on her bike to Matty’s house. They’re all meeting there for some big surprise before they go out to dinner.
The August sun is beaming down on her face, she pauses and squints up at the sky and notices how blue it is, she smiles and looks back down at her bike. She decides that draping her jacket over the handlebars is a better idea, her backpack is half on her back because she was in such a rush. When she bikes the familiar back road she takes note of how the trees have turned from pathetic twigs to bright green scenery, she shuts her eyes for a second and let the Summer air infiltrate her lungs. She is grateful to be alive.
When she biked round the corner at the end of Matty’s road she could see all the boys engaged in a water fight, her urge to turn right back around grows stronger the closer she gets, George’s pathetic screams and Matty’s maniacal laughter grow louder, and she can’t help but laugh to herself. She hears Denise scolding Ross for going too rough and shakes her head as she throws her bike down on the driveway, climbing off and running away from all the boys who immediately turn on her with their water attacks. “Hey!! Stop, it’s my birthday!”
George laughs louder than Sadie had ever heard someone laugh before, probably because the boys weren’t targeting him anymore. She squeals and tries to run into the house, but Adam blocks the door, and she feels more water shooting at the back of her head. She hits his chest and tells him to move at least fifty times, but he doesn’t budge so she runs. She runs round the house to the back garden where she knows Matty keeps the water guns, just as she suspected there’s a pile of them, half-full, on the grass. Sure, they’re the shit ones, but they’ll do the job.
She hears a gasp behind her. “She’s found the pile, run.” She laughs and whips herself around, gun in each hand, to the pathetic squeals of four boys who run back around to the front of the house. There’s a knock on the kitchen window which distracts Sadie for a second, she sees Denise waving wildly at her, she waves back and sees her saying “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and runs round the house to get the boys back.
A half hour later Denise calls out the front door for them to come in. They all race into the house, Matty being shoved by George and Sadie laughing so hard she stops in her tracks. She gets stopped in her tracks even further when she sees the pile of gifts under the TV. She gasps quietly and barely hears everyone wishing her a happy birthday in unison, the tears pricking her eyes are stinging the back of her throat. This is the most anyone’s done for her birthday. George puts an arm round her shoulder and shakes her slightly, then slightly shoves her to the presents. “Save the one with the pink wrapping paper for last.”
Sadie’s bottom lip wobbles and she lets out an exasperated laugh. “Guys, this is too much. I don’t even know what to say.” She moves towards the gifts as if they’re going to jump out and scare her. She sees the three cards on the top and picks them up, sitting down on the floor in front of the TV. The boys, Denise, Tim, and Louis are all scattered across the couches and the floor too, just watching. She opens the one from Denise, Tim, and Louis first and smiles through teary eyes at the kind words written on the page. She has the same reaction to the other two cards, one from all the boys, one from just Matty.
After a while Sadie’s face is wet with tears, she’d laughed at some of the funny gifts, and with her new necklace round her neck she looked at the last gift, the pink one, cautiously. “Is it alive? Am I gonna be scared?” Matty laughs and shakes his head. She lifts it into her lap and looks at the tag, it reads that it’s from the boys. Before she opens it Denise cuts in.
“They all saved up for this on their own. Came up with the idea and everything.” Sadie looks to the group of boys on the other couch who all look very smug, she rolls her eyes at their faces and turns back to the gift. She carefully unwraps it and can’t help the sob that comes out of her mouth. The new Sony camera is sitting in front of her. When she gets hold of herself she opens the box and gasps at the sight of it. “Guys, oh my god. I can’t take this, you’re kidding.”
“Well, none of us know how to use it.” Sadie tackles the four of them into her arms, jumping on top of them all on the couch, muttering a hundred thank yous under her breath. She doesn’t even know how the boys managed to afford it, maybe some of Matty’s odd jobs he was doing helped, or Ross’ job down at the shop. She didn’t know, but she knew she would never forget this. Sadie felt that same feeling again from earlier. She was grateful to be alive.
By the time Matty’s 18th rolls around, the rest of the group have a plan. They’ve all saved up enough money to buy tickets to Leeds festival, and they’ve all chipped in to get one for Matty’s birthday. Sadie wasn’t allowed to go before, but Denise gave in this year and let her tag along with the group. She makes all of the parental decisions for Sadie now, since she pretty much lives at the Healy’s house. Denise’s reasoning was that it would be after her 17th birthday, deeming her old enough to go. Matty, Ross, Adam and Jamie had gone last year but all they had talked about when they came back to Sadie and George was how excited they were to go next year, the full group.
Ross, George and Sadie were currently sat in Matty’s back garden, waiting for Matty and Adam to get home from work. Sadie and Ross were sharing a cigarette and talking about the lineup for Leeds. More like arguing. George was observing with a cigarette of his own, he’d only spared one to the duo because he’s stingy. “No, Sadie. Nine Inch Nails are more exciting than the fucking Smashing Pumpkins. Think of it, you’re in a muddy field what would you rather listen to.”
Sadie looks at him like he’d grown a second head. “The Smashing Pumpkins.” Ross just groans, George laughs loudly. “What?! I would!”
“You’re actually fucked in the head, Sadie. George, please back me up.” He passes the cig back to Sadie who takes it and looks at George with a raised eyebrow. He takes a sip of his coke and looks away from the pair, whistling at the sky. Sadie laughs and passes the cigarette back to Ross. He tells her to finish it, so she does.
“No, to be fair to both of you, I’d rather be at Paramore. If I had to choose.” Sadie and Ross both share a look and collapse into each other laughing.
“Okay, one, Paramore is on Sunday, we’re talking about Friday. And two, they weren’t even in the equation to begin with.” Ross nods at Sadie’s words and George just sticks his middle finger up at the pair, who laugh at him again. They hear the back door opening and turn to see Matty, they shut up about their prior argument quite quickly. The trio share a look and have to hide their laughs.
“Hello boys. And Sadie.” They nod up at Matty who cracks open his coke and pours it over the ice in his glass. He looks at the three that have gone silent and squints his eyes slightly before taking a sip of his coke and lighting a cig. Sadie looks at the other two who are giving her looks as if to say, “Say something.”
She turns back to Matty, who turns to her. “How was work?” George lets out a barely audible groan and she looks at him incredulously. Matty nods around his glass and then kind of shakes his head.
“It was okay, not busy, boring. I like it there, though.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome for getting you that job. I’ve been there for like a year now. Remember when I walked in one day and George was just standing in the kitchen? That was stupid.” George laughs at her and she turns to him. “No, I was so confused.”
“I was working, where did you want me to stand?”
“It would’ve been nice to know you were working at the fucking place?” George shakes his head.
“Wanted to surprise you.”
“Some surprise that is, George!” He, yet again, sticks his middle finger up at her. This time she does it back. Matty scoffs and leans his head back with a sigh, he stretches his arms and one of them comes to rest on the back of the bench behind Sadie.
She points up at the sky, the sun is setting behind the clouds which cast a pink hue down on the group of four. They stay outside until the sun is probably in the middle of the sky in Australia. Adam arrives not long after Matty and Sadie gives him a subtle nod and thumbs up, trying to tell him that they got the Leeds tickets today. He looks confused at first, but he gets it after a minute. When Matty goes inside the four speak in whispers about how they have to tell Matty, because George is unable to keep it a secret. The back door swings open again and the four sit up straight. “Right, you guys are hiding something from me.” Sadie can’t help herself.
“We’re going to Leeds.”
Leeds was a fucking nightmare. Everyone fought. Everyone made up. Then they fought again. They all got so high they probably couldn’t see. Ross and Sadie ended up seeing Nine Inch Nails together after losing everyone else, and despite being in the clouds, Sadie remembered to act like she didn’t want to be there. Until she actually started enjoying herself. And George got to see Paramore. Almost. He passed out and Sadie shouted at him in the medical tent after he just came to because she was missing out, she was forced to take him to the medical tent.
Sadie was sick on some girl’s shoes at the Kings of Leon set. It was her, George and Adam having the time of their lives until some older girl started flirting with George, obviously he was loving it, but Sadie was already having a bad high and when she saw the way that girl was looking at George she just couldn’t help it! It all kicked off when George and the girl teamed up and tried to fight her. George was forced to take her to medical and as she was thrown over his shoulder he was yelling about how she’d ruined the weekend.
Safe to say the drive home was silent. Matty had the biggest hangover behind the wheel and Ross was cradling Sadie in the backseat as if she were his child, George was practically hanging out the window on the other side of Sadie. The one memory she has in the car is when they were all sat on the grass, ages away from any music, when Matty turned to the boys and said, “Reckon we’ll be on one of these stages soon?” The question was ringing through Sadie’s mind.
A few days later the group were all sat in Matty’s garden (like usual) with drinks in hand, reminiscing on the festival after they’d all taken some much needed time away from each other. Anytime Matty’s eyes caught hers she felt her heart stop. She isn’t sure he remembers but the day after they got back Sadie jolted awake with a vision of her kissing Matty. She doesn’t know when or if it actually happened, but it seemed too real to be something she conjured up in the middle of the night. Ever since, she’ll wake up in a cold sweat with visions of Matty’s lips on hers. She remembers it being a life-changing kiss, though, so there’s that at least.
Sadie makes a point to be the last to leave Matty’s house, she’ll probably end up sleeping here tonight, like usual. It’s a rare sight to see Sadie sleeping in her own bed these days, it probably occurs once a month at most. When Adam shuts the door behind him, Sadie feels her heart fall out of her ass, the silence is less than comfortable. If she can feel the shift in energy surely Matty can. He sits down beside her and turns to her. “Do you remember?”
Sadie feels like she’s died in her seat. Her eyes have practically fallen out onto the dining table. She spins her glass on the table awkwardly, thinking of what to say. What would he say if she lied? Would he pretend it never happened? She decides not to lie, because when his face is as close to hers as it is right now, she thinks she’d like to kiss him again. “Yeah… Do you?”
“Wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t, hmm?” Sadie feels like her 14 year old self, meeting him for the first time. Her face is flushed pink, she’s picking at the tracksuit bottoms on her thighs, and she’s avoiding eye contact. She wishes the ground would eat her alive, because one thing about Sadie is she doesn’t know how to flirt. “Hurt me seeing you kiss that other guy the next day.” As he says this his hand has come up to play with the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the front of her ponytail. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice is no louder than a mutter.
“Sorry, didn’t know what I was doing, don’t even think I knew where I was.” Matty laughs softly at this and looks down at his lap, but his eyes catch Sadie’s nervously picking at the loose thread on the seam of her tracksuit. He feels his heart skip a beat as he grabs it. This makes her face him, looking into his eyes. The silence around them is suffocating and Sadie feels like she might pass out on the floor. When he makes the move to shuffle slightly closer, she smirks at his face. She doesn’t know where she grew the confidence but when she mutters, “Just do it.” He breaks the distance.
The butterflies in her stomach feel cliché, the way the kiss picks up in pace feels even more so. His lips on hers feels like coming home to your own bed after you’ve been abroad for a week. It feels like the smell of your own house after being away for a while. She knows that when her hand comes up to the back of his neck that it holds an ulterior motive, this is confirmed by his hand on her hip, guiding her closer. She wants to consume him in this moment. When they break away for a breather, Sadie doesn’t open her eyes, she doesn’t want to face this moment, but when she feels a squeeze on her hip she can’t help but open one eye. Matty laughs and leans his forehead to hers.
“Sleep in my room tonight.” That’s all that Sadie has ever wanted to hear.
The slight fling between Sadie and Matty didn’t really last for very long. The group all moved into a flat together and the flame between them just kind of flickered out. George noticed the change in Sadie’s demeanour ever since. He was the only other person who knew about Matty and Sadie, but because he was the best friend of both he had to be there for both. It was eating him alive. He was laying in Sadie’s bedroom, joint between his lips. They were sharing it.
“He fucks anything with legs. But I can’t move on. What’s with that?” Sadie plucked the joint from George’s mouth, and he rubs his eyes his face with a groan. He watches the smoke leaving Sadie’s lips intensely, staring at the way it clouds up in the air and dissipates into nothingness, this is how Sadie and Matty’s relationship felt. He sits up slightly on the bed with an indignant sigh.
“His way of coping, I suppose. He didn’t exactly get an explanation as to why you stopped sleeping in his room. Now he just needs someone sleeping there to fill that void for him.” It’s Sadie’s turn to sigh now. She knows George is right, but she doesn’t like the answer and she doesn’t want to hear that he’s suffering. He’s being a bitch and he should just come and speak to her. Silence falls over the duo and George stubs out the joint gently before opening his arms for Sadie.
She isn’t feeling very grateful to be alive.
#my babies !!!!!!#they're free in the world.#matty healy x reader#matty healy imagine#matty healy#the 1975#the 1975 fanfic#writing#matty healy fic
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