Priest!hongjoong x female reader
I know this is not a very “Preist” picture, but I…… don’t have a reason🤪
Also bare with me, I know nothing about churches or preist:(
⚠️Warnings: spanking, dirty talking, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, sinful things🖐😌, cum eating, degradation
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Characters: Jisung x female reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Type: Friends to Lovers, fluff, smut, college!jisung
Warnings: unprotected sex (always use a condom!), oral (female receiving)
This is intended for mature audiences. Do not read if you are under the age of 18.
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(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)
Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.
Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language
Word Count: 4056
A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.
You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.
Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.
All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.
“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”
You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.
“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.
And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.
You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”
“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”
You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.
“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.
“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.
“But he’s hot,” you countered.
“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.
“But he’s hot.”
After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.
El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.
“What about Billy?”
Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”
She nodded. “Would you marry him?”
Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?
Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.
You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.
You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.
Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.
So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.
You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.
“I…Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?
Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.
He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.
His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.
“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”
“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.
“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.
He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.
“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.
He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.
“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.
You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?
It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.
Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.
When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”
And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”
—
When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.
The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.
“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.
You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”
“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”
You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”
“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.
“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”
She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”
It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.
“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.
She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.
“You too.” You motioned Max over.
That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.
“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.
You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”
He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”
It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.
It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.
“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.
“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”
You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”
Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.
“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?
“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word.
“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”
You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.
“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.
Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.
“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.
“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.
“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”
He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.
“I—”
The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.
“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.
You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”
You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.
—
Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.
With you and Max busy, he turned to El.
“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.
“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.
He nodded.
“I think so.”
“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?
Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.
He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.
Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.
You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.
“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”
He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.
He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”
El giggled.
He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”
She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.
—
Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.
What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.
Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.
Your heart sped up a little at his offer.
You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.
“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.
You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”
He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”
You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.
Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.
Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.
Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.
After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.
And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.
If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.
He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.
It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.
He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.
—
When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.
Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.
“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.
He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”
You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.
“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.
He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.
You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.
“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased.
He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.
You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”
“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”
You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”
He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.
“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.
You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”
You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.
His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.
“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.
He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.
He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.
You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.
Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.
And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.
You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”
You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.
“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”
“Discussion?” You tilted your head.
He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”
Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”
“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”
You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.
“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.
“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.
He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.
He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”
“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.
“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.
You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.
You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.
And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.
“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.
“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.
At least for you, he was.
“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.
You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.
—
“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.
You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”
He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.
“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.
You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”
He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.
You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.
He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.
He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”
You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”
“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.
You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.
“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.
His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.
“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.
“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.
He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”
You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”
And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.
Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.
You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.
When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”
He nodded. “Get home safe.”
“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”
Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.
You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.
He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.
smut
y.j.g + fem!reader
fully dom!Jeongin, protection used, loud reader
“He’s not experienced, he can’t be. He’s only eighteen” you scoffed, waving it off.
“Jeongin?” Chan giggled, “oh trust me, he’s definitely experienced enough”
Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly, sipping on your favorite drink as you regretted thinking that Jeongin was a virgin.
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Season 2 ep.6 of keeping up with the first order sneak peek
M A S T E R L I S T
Shadow and Bone Masterlist
smut
requests info
w.c | 4.8k
summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you.
song
My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books.
PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION.
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Langour Ship: Hoseok | Reader Description: Hoseok’s got a lust-driven thirst for his step sister. Warning: Step-Siblings!AU, Incest Sorta? Impregnation Kink, Somnophilia, PWP, Dub-Con? Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Oral, Fingering, Intercourse, Handjob Word Count: 3,387 A/N: I’m sooooo going to hell for this I’ve never seen anyone write this particular kink s h i t.
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Idol!Taehyung x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader
WordCount: 8.1k
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Exes To Lovers!AU
Warnings: Marking, Cunnilingus, Body Worship, Belly Worship, Fingering, Praise, Squirting, Fellatio, Degradation (Slut), Big Dick!Taehyung, Slight Dom!Taehyung, Face Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Pregnant Sex, Crying During Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Doggy Style, Spanking, Possessive!Taehyung, Cream Pie
A/N: I’ve had this in the WIPs for a few weeks and I’ve slowly but surely added to it until I got it to where I liked it. @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna heard all my bitching and moaning about it giving me a headache because I wanted it to feel right and real. So thanks to the forever squad for listening to my bitching! Enjoy!
“We can’t keep doing this."
Those five words had stuck the fear of God into your boyfriend’s heart as he sits across the hotel room with a glass of wine in hand. His hand falters, red wine sloshing around the glass before he widens his eyes at you.
"Excuse me? What?” He asks feebly as you avert your eyes from his handsome face.
“This. Us. We can’t keep doing this like it’ll work out.” You say, bile rising in your throat at the words you choke out.
He opens his mouth in shock before setting down his wine glass. “No. No! I don’t understand! We’re fine!” He mumbles to himself before standing up.
You shy away from his touch as he crosses the bedroom to you. Your eyes are trained on the floor as you hear him whimper. His large hand falls to your thigh and you furrow your eyebrows before standing.
“Is it because of me spending time on the Weverse app or… I’ve been playing too many games with fans because I can-”
Your eyes flit to his, a cold stare shot at him cutting him off. “Kim Taehyung, I would never ask you to stop interacting with your fans. Are you kidding me?” You bark out at him before scoffing and grabbing your bag.
“Y/N. Please. There must be something I can do to make you stay. We’ve been together for two years… Tell me, I’ll fix it.” His voice is wrought with agony and you tense up hearing a sob rip through his throat.
“There’s nothing to fix. We’re done. I’m sorry.” You tell him before grabbing your toiletries from the bathroom. You hear him shuffling behind you, sobbing and destroyed. You can’t seem to turn around before glancing at him through the mirror. You’ve broken the most handsome man in the entire universe.
“I’ll do anything. I’ll-I’ll leave tour more and fly to see you. Y/N please. We can get married like we’ve always talked about. Anything-I’ll-” You zipper up your bag before closing your eyes. You want to cry, scream, kiss him- anything and everything. But, you did this and you have to go through with it. There’s nothing worse than this. And, you still have to do it. “Bye, Tae.”
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i have a mad thomas x reader request where reader is forced to marry thomas (idk how just-) and is disgusted about it but eventually ends up liking him.(? idk how to explain myself:’)
No one look at me,,,,,,,,,,also this is heavily inspired by the Scarlet Letter and was supposed to be a tad darker but I copped out (also someone asked for a pregnant reader recently so this + that = this fic)
Warnings: dark themes, 1600 standards, values, and laws, affairs/cheating, ex-relationship with the pastor is mentioned, Thomas is Thomas, mentions of drinking, webs of lies, public humiliation, AFAB and Fem reader, pregnant reader, pre-marital pregnancy solved a la shotgun marriage, twisted win-win situation turns into love?, slow burn(?),
Word Count: 3.7k
You could accept your punishment with a turned cheek, you told yourself over and over again.
You could stare out at the audience of towns people, even as the sun beat on your face. You could stare out into the angry faces of the elders, into the pitying faces of your friends. Into the ashamed faces of your parents. But, you could not look at Cyrus Miller.
You'd missed your blood two months ago. You'd begged, prayed, everyday that it would come. But, the only thing that came was the morning sickness. You'd tried to hide it, tried to think of what to do. But, when you placed your hand over your stomach, you couldn't bring yourself to find the hag in the forest. And, when your mother held your spotless, white sheets in your face, you'd crumbled. You confessed in the privacy of your room as if you were confessing in church. You told her everything.
Well, almost.
"Tell us his name!" Cyrus said, a voice that you couldn't force to fall into the background. "Tell us the name of your accomplice and you shall suffer no more." He said, and you wanted to believe him. You let your eyes close for a moment, but your lips did not move. Your mouth did not open. "Tell us the father's name, so that your baby will not be born a bastard!" He said, and his hand reached out to grab your arm. His grip was strong and tight, unlike the caresses you'd become so accustomed to with him. While his words begged you to say the name, his name, the action spoke differently. You peeled open your eyes and looked up at him, at his raven hair and kind face. His dark, soft eyes. Tears pricked the corners of your own eyes, hard and glassy as you looked up at him. But, you were silent. Even as some of the townspeople yelled for you to confess.
But, how could you tell them that it was your persecutor who was the father of your child? That your pastor, the leader of this town, had sinned so egregiously? He had a wife, a daughter. You'd known both of those things when you'd fallen for him, but it was harder to ignore in the harsh sunlight. When both of them stood in front of you.
You knew you'd have to face punishment. Sex before marriage was a crime after all, completely forbidden. To think they didn't know you were an adulterer also. You didn't know what it'd be, but you knew you'd have no option but to accept it when it came. You'd already made your peace with it, made your peace with whatever God could condemn you to. Perhaps, you'd have to live alone, wear a scarlet letter on your breast. Perhaps, they'd cast you out completely, and you'd be shunned. Perhaps, they'd hang you. You touched your stomach at that thought. Perhaps, there were certain punishments you couldn't bear.
Your lips only fell open when a voice yelled,
"It was I." And a gasp fell from your mouth. Your head turned, snapped towards the voice. Towards the sea of faces that was the crowd. But, you knew that voice. "It's my child." He said, and your eyes fell on a face you knew all too well. And, at that moment, you knew exactly what type of punishment God had set out for you.
Mad Thomas.
***
The day had gone by in a blur.
Over and over in your head, one question repeated itself. Why? It was almost loud enough to drown out the constant whispers, the stories being spun by every person who seemed to have a tongue.
Union couldn't seem to stop talking about it. Of when it started, how long it'd been going on, when the pair of you had even had time to sneak off. You'd even heard a young Constance Berman whisper about how she'd always known something was going on between the two of you, only to be shushed by her older sister as you passed. As you'd been let free of the top of the church steps.
You'd been left outside, left out in the sun. Inside the church went your father, the pastor, and Thomas. You had no idea what Thomas was going to say, what lies he was going to spin.
You couldn't bring yourself to leave, to speak. You felt as though a blanket of white noise had covered your ears, covered your mind. You were surprised, to say the least. You'd thought a wave of devastation had washed over you the first moment you'd realized you were with child, but this? It made it seem like ripples in a pond. The only thing you could do was stare at the church door and wait for them to come out. But, you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist and you turned to see the face of your mother.
"Come," She said, and you looked back at the door blankly. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to be there when they came out. But, you couldn't find the words to say or the strength to keep your feet firm. So, you let her guide you away from the crowd, and towards your house.
It was only later that you were told you and Thomas were to be married by the end of the month.
***
You and Thomas were never allowed a moment alone. You didn't know whether to be relieved or not, but Thomas, a man who you quickly found was far more confusing than you thought, was playing a charade. He brought you flowers, carried your water pail for you, and even took you on chaperoned walks. You, however, were stony and stiff, barely able to contain your disgust for him. It was on your first walk that you whispered,
"Why? Why are you doing this?" And, for a moment, the incorrigible man seemed to pretend not to hear you. He glanced over his shoulder, as if the wind was at his ear instead, and you saw him cast a sly glance to the man behind them. It was one of your father's friends, walking only about two yards behind you. Finally, when he decided he was far away enough, he responded,
"Would you rather I had let them cast you out? Let you and your child starve in the woods?" Thomas said back, the most sober you'd ever heard him. It seemed that apart of your father's deal with him was that he cut back on the drink. He didn't even stumble as he walked.
"Don't pretend you did this out of charity. Why, Thomas?" You asked, and you, for only a moment, reached out to touch his arm. You pulled it back just as quick, hoping that your chaperone hadn't seen. Thomas looked down at the action, before he smirked and shook his head.
"Aren't we a perfect match?" He asked, and you gave him a look of confusion. He continued with, "You think I don't know what people say about me? Don't you see, girl? It doesn't matter if your father is the best woodworker, or the richest in Union anymore. No one would have you, or your bastard child. Except me." He said, and you almost couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. He continued, his words a whisper now, "Besides, it's a lie they would believe." You stared at him, flabbergasted by his words. Flabbergasted by how right he was.
Thomas had, well, a reputation. It wasn't out of character for his wedding to be one out of necessity, and perhaps it earned you some pity from the townspeople. How many women had Thomas seduced? And how many of them could truly judge you? Not to mention, his words left one thing clear.
So, it was my dowry, you thought. It wasn't an unheard of reason, and it made sense given the man you were talking to. Your father had been avoiding selling you off, even as you reached far into your womanhood. And, surely, your father would never have considered him under any normal circumstance, but now...You didn't seem to have much of a choice.
Thomas paused, picking up one of the wildflowers and handing it to you. You took it, knowing now that you had to play along. That you had to act as if he truly was the father of your child, and not someone as foreign to you as the land outside of Union.
"Your father was going to start building us a house. I was thinking right here," Thomas said, his voice only slightly louder for the chaperone to hear, but you barely paid attention. You were staring down at the yellow flower in your hands, before you glanced up at the man in front of you.
He was tall, but his hair was lighter. His cheeks were stubbly and his eyes- They were a clear blue. Almost the same shade as the sky above you. You watched as he talked, as he laid out his plan. And, while the idea of being married to anyone that you didn't love sickened you, you tried to tell yourself that it wouldn't be as terrible as you felt it would be.
***
You and Thomas sat out in the sun, where you were making a flower crown and he was rambling about one thing or the other. You'd gotten very good at pretending to be in love, even in the span of only a couple of weeks.
You gave him smiles and laughter, and he gave you gifts or stole a caress. It was enough to stir the people of Union so no one would be the wiser. And, with your father at his station a short way across the field, the pair of you could be somewhat alone. But, still within viewing distance.
"You're not listening." Thomas said, and you smiled to yourself for a moment. You looked at the finished crown, before you looked up and reached over to where he was laying on the blanket. He was half-sitting up, and you placed the flower crown atop his head as you said,
"Yes, I was." You replied simply as you adjusted it, and Thomas stared at you and gave a small scoff. He caught your hand as you went to pull it away, his grip loose. He held it almost gently, and said,
"Then kiss me." And your brows drew together. A quick,
"What?" Fell from your lips, and you watched how Thomas smiled. He laughed, letting your hand go as he said,
"So, you weren't listening-" But you were quick to interrupt him.
"Why would- Why?" The idea- the simple idea was preposterous. Why would you kiss him? In broad daylight no less? The suggestion made you nervous, made a weird feeling start in your stomach. And, you ignored how this feeling wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
"They're going to expect us to kiss on our wedding day, girl. Shouldn't we have some practice?" He said, and you thought perhaps the first time he proposed it had been kinder. You stared at him, thinking over his words. Thomas waited, reaching out to touch your skirt. It was only to pick at it for a moment, before he drew his hand away.
You couldn't tell if that was the only reason Thomas wanted to kiss you, if there wasn't some ulterior motive somewhere. You wouldn't put it past him. But, really, he was right. Not to mention, while the pair of you had been affectionate, had you been affectionate enough?
That's what was so aggravating about Thomas. He was always right. He saw clear through whatever facade anyone put up, and saw the truth. Perhaps, that's why he was such a good liar.
Perhaps, that's why he was staring at you.
"Fine." You said, before you looked over your shoulder. You were in the field, but you were more or less a public spectacle. You could hear Thomas draw closer, feel the warmth of his hand reach for your arm.
"Let them look." He said as he gave a tug on your arm, and you turned back to face him. It was strange to hear him say that, such a stark difference from what you were used to. To have him so close was different than before, but Thomas didn't close the gap. You supposed he was waiting for you to do that. He whispered, "Well?" And, finally, you did. It was a short kiss, a quick stolen one. Still, it made Thomas smile. "So chaste." He let out a small laugh, and it was your turn to scoff. "Are you sure-" And you could guess what he was going to say. You kissed him again, if only to silence him. It was deeper, firmer than your last had been. And you hated to admit that you didn't hate it. Thomas was well-practiced, and the feeling of his thumb grazing your cheek was nearly as warm as the feeling of the sun on your back. It made another feeling start, one that you tried to stamp out that very second. You pulled away again, cutting it short. Thomas, for just a moment, tried to follow you before he pulled back. He had a small smile on his face, one he didn't try to hide as he pushed his hair back.
"You're practiced." You said quietly, the closest thing to a compliment you could give him. You'd heard rumors of him galavanting with the likes of Abbi Berman and some of the others. Perhaps, there was some truth to them. Thomas glanced over, and returned the words,
"Aye, so are you." When he smiled and glanced down at your belly, you knew the jab had been intended. And, unfortunately, he'd managed to make you laugh.
***
You knew it was coming. You had prepared yourself for it. Before the wedding, the pastor would counsel both of you. And, he was going to counsel you first.
You stood in a dress your mother had made, with your corset done loosely as not to press on your stomach. You'd been staring out the window, at the cloudless day and the happy faces of your town. Why shouldn't they be happy? It was the day for a celebration.
You'd even caught glimpses of Thomas. Your mother was fussing over him, and Issac had swiped his pouch. He looked- Well, you could tell he'd been scrubbed down. Most of his teeth were still black, but in clean clothes and with a clean face...Perhaps, he didn't look terrible. You tilted your head, and, almost as if he could feel you staring, Thomas' head turned. He caught your eyes, and reflected your posture with a tilt of his own head. It made you smile, something you found was less forced the more time you spent with him. Your head turned from him when you heard someone come in.
"Wonderful day for a wedding." Cyrus said as he closed the door to the chapel, and you tried to manage a smile. "Sit." He said, and gestured to one of the pews. You did, and you both kept your distance. The chapel was dim, only lit by the light outside. The pair of you were silent for a moment, before Cyrus said, "The magistrate is here. He seems eager to start. Do you," He paused for a moment. "Do you have any doubts?" And you felt that the question was not quite as empty as anyone else would think.
You'd been staring at your hands, and you finally lifted your gaze to him. To his deep, dark brown eyes. After a moment, you found your voice.
"None at all. Thomas is- He shall be the father to his child, and he shall be my husband. I shall do my duties, and, I- I love him." It was hard to say, at least when Cyrus sat in front of you. "What is there to doubt?" You asked, your question equally as heavy. While none of you would say it plainly, you knew from the way he looked over your face that he understood you perfectly. The pair of you would never confess your secret, and you'd let the hatchet be buried. Forgotten.
"Does he know?" Cyrus asked, and you knew what it sounded like. In case any of the others were listening. Like he was asking if your soon to be husband knew you loved him. The question couldn't be more disguised. Really, his eyes said, Does he know about us?
"Yes. Or, I think he does." You replied, and you watched how Cyrus reached to touch his clean-shaven face. His face was half hidden by his hand, but you could see his eyes were disturbed. A secret was harder to keep the more people knew, but you said, "And he loves me. He'd do anything to keep this union." You told him, and you hoped he got your meaning. When Cyrus glanced at you, you guessed he did. Silently, your eyes said, If he does, Thomas won't tell. And, after a pause, Cyrus let out a sigh.
"Then, there seems little I have to counsel you on."
***
"Have you thought of a name?" Thomas asked you, and you hummed.
You were picking at your sheet, looking towards the window. It had been months, five if not nearly six. Your baby was due in only a few weeks now, and you still hadn't decided. Your husband, a word to describe him that didn't seem so weird now, laid besides you facing up towards the roof.
Thomas, well, he was not what you thought. He had a good, if not sometimes strange, sense of humor, and did not bruise easily from even the harshest words. He could take care of himself, after years of doing so, and, subsequently, you as well. Your mother and the mid-wife still came by to make sure you were in good health, but Thomas had most of it handled. He was a little lazy when it came to work, especially the work your father tried to give him, but he seemed to find that the work that came with having his own house agreed with him. The pair of you had become- Well, familiar. That was the word you would use. You couldn't say, nearly six months later, that it was still just pretending.
Still, Thomas didn't touch you in any way you wouldn't want him to, and you had to lift your head to throw a glance back to him.
"I have some ideas. Perhaps, if it's a girl," You paused, a sly grin coming to your face, "We could name her Abigail." And you watched him scoff and roll his eyes, even lift his head off of his arm for a moment as he said,
"Absolutely not." And you snickered to yourself as you went back to facing away from him. It was just a jest, a reference to an old dalliance of his, but Thomas, if anything, was fun to tease. The only issue was that Thomas was just as sharp when it came to his wit. "Y'know- Fine. Then, if it's a boy, we shall name him Cyrus." And you let out a noise of protest. You tried to roll over, declaring,
"No!" And now it was Thomas' turn to laugh. He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to ease you back down. You let him, and even reached to hold his arm. To pull him closer. He followed, and you guided his hand above your bulging stomach as the pair of you adjusted. "Fine- Neither of those names. But, we must think of something." You told him, feeling as he stretched his fingers over where your baby grew. He held you, his warmth against your back. His hand rubbing your stomach lightly.
It made a strange sense of warmth fill you, one you couldn't blame from body-heat. And, it wasn't so terrible that you tried to push it, or him, away.
***
"She cries like no other child in Union." Thomas said as he climbed into your bed. You were supposed to be resting, healing, even weeks, nearly two months, after your child's birth. You felt like you'd been confined to your bed for so long that you were starting to become a part of it. Thomas was only here for the break your father gave him half-way through the day. Still, you smiled to yourself from where you laid on your side, and said,
"Perhaps, it is your smell that disturbs her." You said, your voice thick with sleep but a cheeky grin working onto your face. You shouldn't have prompted him, because he took the opportunity to drape himself heavily over your back.
"Oh, should I sleep outside tonight then?" He asked, and you giggled when you felt his stubble tickling your cheek.
It was already long into the day, and you'd become lazy from bed-rest. It felt far too nice to have his warmth wrapped around you, to where you nearly wanted to fall asleep. You had grown too used to it now, and you could barely imagine a night without it.
"I never said that." You responded, and turned your face back towards the softness of your pillow. You felt Thomas' hand raise, his fingertips brush against your cheek. He was being brave, especially when you felt his lips brush against your neck. It made you bite your lip, a twinge of something not so unfamiliar swirling in your belly. You wondered if he would continue. Hell, you wanted him to. But, it was nothing more than that.
Thomas, to your surprise, had more restraint than you would've assumed. He kissed your cheek, went to stand, and excused himself with,
"Your father will begin to wonder where I am." And you lifted your head to watch him step away, before you settled back down. He was clean, cleaner than he had been when he'd been sleeping in the outhouse. His hair was softer and longer, tied away from his face. And his arms seemed stronger, perhaps from the days of working with your father. He was, if you dared to think so, a kind sight to your eyes now. "Sleep. I'll be back by the time you wake." He told you, and, as he left, you found yourself hoping he was right.
pairings: neighbor!druig x fem!reader
summary: your neighbor is a playboy who has countless girls over, you can’t help but sneak a peak
warnings: unedited, jealousy as always, angst, voyeurism, oral (fem and male), doggy, sloppy sex, 18+
word count: 2.6k
a/n: thank you for 100 followers in just two days.. i made it extra filthy for you <3
you pull your pillow over your head as you hear the bed banging against the wall. your asshole neighbor was at it again. every few days he had a girl over, a different girl each time. it would be every once in a while but you would hear him bring her in, you would hear him making her laugh and you would hear him making her cum. you lived in a pretty nice apartment but the walls were thin.
your neighbor liked to fuck and the walls were so thin you could swear sometimes you could hear how wet the girl was. you wanted to be annoyed so bad but you also had a secret, there was a hole in your wall.
it was probably from someone slamming the door into the wall. you meant to get it fixed when you moved in but then the first time you discovered it was because of your neighbor. you sat on your knees, peering your eyes through the hole. you had a pretty good view into his room.
the way his bed was facing you could see everything so perfectly. you looked threw the hole and saw his back muscles flexing, he had the girl in missionary but he was holding both of her legs in the air. he was bitting his lip and looking down, watching his cock slide in and out of her. you felt so dirty for watching but you were so curious. you watched as he flipped her over and grabbed her hair.
he pushed her face into the pillow, his hand on the side of her face. pushing it down while he hammered into her roughly. you had been more wet than you’d ever been in your life. you hated him. you hated him for how late he kept you up listening to screams and moaning. sometimes you’d touch yourself while he pleasured other girls, listening to their moans while he fucked then turned you on so much.
the thought of him pleasing a girl that well. you wish he had been normal, like your other neighbors who were vanilla and boring and only had sex every tuesday night.
you got up from your spot on the floor and laid on your bed. you pulled out one of your dildo’s and vibrators. the dildo slipped right into you because you were so wet. you turned on your vibrator and placed it on your clit. you were moaning like crazy, it was okay because no one could hear you over the girl your neighbor was fucking. you heard the sound of the bed squeaking.
“such a dirty little girl” you heard him say, you could’ve sworn he was taking to you because you’d never heard him say anything like that before. you didn’t think too much of it because you were too busy pleasuring yourself.
“i bet you love this dick huh?” he said “feeling that tight little cunt”
you felt your toes curling and you were starting to arch your back. you could tell the girl on the other side of the wall was too at the same time because your neighbor said “come for me, be a good girl”
you saw stars as you finally released and you pulled up your underwear, getting up to clean up the mess you made. you felt so dirty but you knew when he bought another girl over that you’d be doing the same thing again.
druig knew exactly what he was during. he knew that his neighbor was listening and he knew that she was pleasing herself. he could hear her moans through the thin walls and sometimes at night when he was catching up on work or getting ready for bed he could hear her moaning his name.
he needed to have her, he needed to be inside her. he’d bring girls around but it was because he knew how much it turned you on. before you moved in of course it was for his own personal pleasure and even the first few months but he knew when you discovered the hole that he had to keep it up.
sometimes if he stood at the right angle while he was having sex with other girls he could see you peaking through the hold. he needed to have you, he couldn’t wait to feel you and taste you.
he should’ve gotten the hole patched up but it honestly kept slipping his mind and then when you moved in and he noticed you peeping through it, he damn sure wasn’t going to fix it. he never looked through the hole and peeped at you. he knew that when he saw your body he wanted to be able to devour you.
—
you’d had a long day at work and all you wanted was a nice bubble bath and a cheesy erotica book. maybe even an old rom com to put on after. whatever it was you just needed to relax. your boss had been on your ass all week and it was a friday meaning you’d at least get saturday and sunday to yourself.
you searched your pockets for your key and realized it wasn’t there. you looked through your bag and it wasn’t in there either.
“shit” you mumbled to yourself. you definitely locked it in your apartment.
you threw your bag on the ground and sat on the floor in front of your door. you called the maintenance office but since they were closed for today they’d send someone over but it would be a while.
so much for your relaxing bubble bath. you audibly let out a groan and pulled out your phone. playing a few games on your phone. responding to emails and text messages. you when went on social media and checked out a few things on there but you quickly got bored.
after about 15 more minutes you heard someone coming down the hallway. you thought it was the maintenance person but it was really just your neighbor, druig.
damn was he looking good though. he had gray sweatpants on today and a shirt that showed his muscles perfectly. you definitely could see his print in his sweats especially when he was practicing standing over you, looking down at you as you sat on the floor.
“what are you doing down there?” he asked
“locked out” was all you said
“want to wait in my apartment” he offered. you almost said no but after sitting out there for 20 minutes you don’t think you could wait anymore. plus your ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the floor.
“sure” you shrugged. he offered his down to you, you grabbed it and he helped pulling you off the ground.
he was still holding your hand as he was walking to his apartment door, he unlocked it and let you in. he didn’t fully drop your hand from his until he set his keys down to the fridge.
“can i offer you something to drink?” he asked. it kinda threw you off.
you don’t know if it was because the bar was in hell or what but you were not used to men being polite to you in their own homes. usually when you were at a guys house you knew what you were there for so they didn’t even bother trying to be polite.
“no thank you” you said. he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. he took a sip and you watched as a drop of water slid down him lower lip onto his chin. you felt your nipples hardening through your shirt and considering you never wore a bra he definitely noticed.
“i’d offer you a tour but considering you live next door im sure you’re used to the layout” he said
“well yeah.. mine is a little less manly though” you joked, he laughed at that. it felt nice, making him laugh
“we can watch a movie while we wait” he said setting the water bottle down.
“sure” you nodded.
“my living room tv broke so we’ll have to watch it in my bedroom” he said and your heart dropped to your ass.
being in his living room you could handle but being in his bedroom? you don’t think you’d be able to control yourself. he grabbed your hand and let you to the bedroom.
being on the other side of the wall was different. you’d never seen his room fully. it was really nice and neat of course.
“make yourself at home” he said kicking his shoes off, you took that moment to sit on the edge of his bed. once he had his shoes off he climbed into his bed laying back on his pillows with his legs sprawled out. he grabbed the remote and looked up at you.
“don’t get shy on me now y/n” he said
“you wish” you said rolled your eyes and playfully pushing his shoulder. you and druig were pretty good neighbors. you’d say hi to each other in the hallway, make small talk. you knew enough about him to know he was a sweet guy.
he didn’t talk to any of the other people that lived here but that was probably because he wasn’t much of a people person. besides him keeping you up all night with his hookups he was a good neighbor.
“what do you want to watch” he asked turning on netflix. you took the remote from his hand and put on the rom com you were planning on watching early. you can hear him groan and you elbow him in the side, letting out a laugh. he uses that moment to grab your elbow and pull you close to him.
you were basically cuddling at this point. the title had popped up the screen and you took a look around his room. you noticed the hole. you couldn’t stop staring at it.
“you know that i can hear you right?” druig finally spoke. snapping you out of your thoughts.
“what?” you said after you finally realized what he was saying.
“i can hear you when you’re finger fucking yourself, moaning my name” he said. he placed his hand on your thigh and began to rub small circles “you think i can’t hear you when i’m fucking but i can darling, i can hear you very clearly, singing my name when you cum”
you didn’t know what to say, you were at a loss for words. he trailed his hand up your thigh, getting closer to your pussy “how about i hear you sing now?”
“yes” was all you could say. you weren’t dumb enough to turn this down. after all those nights of touching yourself to him. he sat up and tapped your hips motioning for you to lift them up. he pulled your pants down, throwing them on the floor
“first i’m going to please you and then i’m going to punish you for all those nights i had to listen to you moan my name”
he moved so that he was hovering over you. one arm steadying himself up as he slid your panties to the side and dragged his finger between your folds. looking into your eyes as he put his fingers between his lips “so sweet, darling”
“you should gets a taste he said placing his thumb back between your foldings and then taking it out and putting his thumb in your mouth. you sucked your juices off of him “such a good girl”
“now for a real taste” he said positioning himself where your pussy is. he pulled your panties to the side again he licked between your folds, once he reached your clit you immediately arched your back. he placed his thumb in your asshole and that drove you crazy, you wrapped your thighs around his face, grinding against him as he licked you.
“that’s it gorgeous, suffocate me with your thighs” he said as you let out another moan. continuing to grinding on his face. he moved back, going to the drawer and grabbing the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen.
“druig that’s not going to fit” you whinned.
“yes it will, now get it nice and wet for me” he said, placing it on your lips. you opened your mouth and he slid the dildo in, pumping it in your mouth while you gagged on it “good girl”
he took it out and placed it in your entrance, you let out a whimper as he slid it inside of you, pumping it while he went back to sucking on your clit. he pulled away spitting on it before licking it. you could tell he liked it sloppy.
“please, can i come” you said. you were losing it. you couldn’t control it anymore
“of course m’darling” he mumbled still pumping the toy in you. you gripped the sheets, arching your back as you came all over the toy. druig took the toy and sucked your cream right off of it “so tasty”
he didn’t even give you time to recover before he pulled you to the edge of the bed, you were laying on your back with your head hanging off the bed. “my turn”
he pushed his pants down his cock flopping out. he bent down to kiss you on the lips before standing up straight and positioned himself at your lips. he grabbed your hair, angling it perfect before slipping into your mouth. he was pumping in you, fucking your mouth while you gagged. you reached up and grabbed his balls, massaging them while he fucked your mouth.
“let’s it baby, please me while i ruin your throat” he grunted while thrusting inside of you. “i want to plant my seed down that pretty little throat of yours”
tears were rolling down your face while he was thrusting in your mouth, you tasted his precum and you knew he was going to cum.
“be a good girl and swallow all of it” he said as he came in your mouth and you did as you were told “such a good fucking whore”
he still had your hair in your hands and he took himself out of your mouth. he pulled you up and guided you to where you where bending over the bed. he grabbed your ass and gave it a smack. he pulled your head back so his lips was pressed against your ear.
“i’m about to ruin this pussy” he said as he angled himself at your entrance and slipped inside of you. you let out a moan as you felt him inside of you. he moved his hand from your ass and placed it on your nipple, tugging and pulling it on it while he pumped inside of you.
he pushed your face into the pillow, his hand on the side of your face as he fuck. “is this what you wanted princess? to fuck you like i fuck the other girls”
“answer me” he said slapping your ass after you didn’t answer him the first time.
“yes, druig” you managed to moan out
“too bad, i’m going to fuck you better” he said moving his hand from your face and placing it on the small of your back. he placed one of his legs on the bed for better leverage while he fucked you. you heard a buzz and you were confused until you felt the vibrator on your clit. in that moment you knew you weren’t going to last very long.
“can i come? please” you begged
“yes baby girl” he said moving faster, hitting your g-spot. you cried out as you came all over his dick.
“such a naughty girl, coming all over your neighbors dick” he said. “now i’m going to come in this tight pussy of yours”
seconds later you felt his liquids fillings you up. warn out you collapsed on his bed. catching your breath and trying to reply everything that just happened. it seemed as if druig was still filled with energy.
“next time you want to come, just knock, inside of peeping, yeah” he said slapping your ass.
How would L manifest his affection towards his so?
Mentions of sex but nothing even slightly explicit. Lengthy headcanon collection because I love my panda cupcake. He’s so gorgeous and he deserved so much better.
In the strangest, most subtle of ways.
Head pats are very common.
He’d walk past you and as he does so, a spidery hand comes out of nowhere and plops unceremoniously on your head. His touch is so gentle it causes a cold shiver at the base of your spine. It’s over so quickly but the ghost of his touch lingers for much longer.
He’ll stare at you. Often and for no reason.
He doesn’t even hide it. He just blatantly stares at you, an owlish expression on his face and a thumb between his lips.
There’s no way that you can’t feel his gaze on you but if you tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable or you ask him to stop, he’ll apologise but not sound even a little sorry and carry on staring.
If you get up and move into another room, he’ll jump up and follow you. he may well resemble a puppy - tell him to go away and he’ll look like one, too.
Will give you strawberries. If you’re allergic to those or dislike them, then it’s another sweet something he knows you like.
He’ll wordlessly dangle it in the air near you, his usual two finger grip making you nervous for the fate of the treat.
He won’t say anything, he won’t even look, he’ll just hold it up in the air in your general area.
If you take it, he smiles to himself. If not, he shrugs, eats the treat himself and goes right back to working.
If you seem to be emotionally out of sorts or physically showing signs of anything negative or nervousness, he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder, fingers pressing delicately into your neck.
This serves two purposes: pulse check and comfort.
It’s more efficient.
Random gifts left on your pillow. Wrapped in white paper and tied with a black ribbon. Packaging is messy, not wrapped very well and looks like something a child would do.
Always something you’ve eyed over the last month as you walk past a shop window.
You always know it’s from him and you thank him in your way and maybe even buy him a gift in return.
There’s no reason for the gift he gives you, it’s just because he likes to give you things, it’s a way he shows affection.
Your smile makes him smile.
When you come out of the shower or bath and you’re carrying on with your evening, a towel will randomly and without warning drop over your eyes.
Spidery hands will then descend upon you and ruffle your hair, drying it even if it’s already close to being dry.
He does this because you do it to him when his hair drips all over the keyboard and you don’t want him to have to replace the electronics in the room, so you help him out because he won’t do it himself.
He does this to you because it’s reciprocation, which he understands is one of the fundamentals of a successful and healthy relationship.
He lets you help him with his cases. If you have an idea, even if you’re not even in that same career, he’ll listen to you and then either reject it with the facts of the case, or put a thumb between his lips and add your theory to the list.
L never expects it from you but when you’re right, you’re gifted with an actual smile with teeth and a warm look.
When you’re wrong, he thanks you sincerely, briefly, and then goes back to work.
Had you been Matsuda, he would have followed this sentiment with an insult to your intelligence but he understands this to be something you don’t say to your s/o, and so he keeps scathing remarks to himself.
Sometimes there’ll be a quick rap on your bedroom door and he’ll let himself in, climbing wordlessly into bed with you. He’d curl up, say very little, and actually get some sleep.
He doesn’t tell you that it’s because he desperately wants sleep but doesn’t want the nightmares.
You keep his nightmares away.
Watari told you when you mentioned it and nothing more was said.
Sometimes, when you’re either very lucky or truly sad, L will use conventional means of affection.
A hug which starts as that pulse-check arm around your neck and then he pulls you into his strong yet slender form, his chin resting atop your head (he’s tall when he straightens his back) and his eyes dark as he ponders your distress.
L knows, of course he knows, but he waits for you to say it. He won’t intrude upon your privacy.
Anyone else’s, sure, but never you.
A kiss to your cheek when you surprise him with sweets or when you’re holding him in the dark, his eyes wet and his body shaking.
A proper kiss when you pass an exam or go to an appointment yourself or remember to take your meds without any prompting (apps don’t count as prompting; if he doesn’t have to tell you, you’ll get a kiss on your mouth as a reward - classical conditioning? Yes but he’d never admit to it) or anything which normally costs you something mentally.
Sex is rare. He doesn’t have much of a drive but if you’re feeling it, he’ll reciprocate. He doesn’t ever need it, but sometimes if there’s a close call on a case and he nearly dies, he definitely crawls into your bed with carnal intentions.
For anything, L rarely ever says no to you. He tries, sometimes, but largely he can’t stick to it and he acquiesces, if only to see you smiling at him.
‘I love you’ isn’t something said within the Japanese culture (that exact phrase is seen as soul bonding, even married couples don’t say it to each other), but he isn’t purely Japanese. Still, he’s a citizen so the cultural habits stick.
He doesn’t say it, he shows it, and this is something important to remember.
On the times you say it to him, though, his eyes will hold yours and he’ll kiss you delicately, his hands cradling your face. He does love you, he does, and sometimes he thinks you’ll be the death of him.
Death Note: @amoureux-de-la-litterature @xiumincancallmebabyanytime @hagridsbeasts @shingeki-no-julchen @miyakokurono @sanity-is-overratedxp @distressed-honking @my-aestheticdaydreams @phantom-fangirl-stuff @writings-of-a-gen-z @cryptic-trash-cat