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#and my thoughts have been like falling into place
angllicjk · 3 days
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𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 (𝐌)
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Alt Nextdoor Neighbor!Jungkook X Bartender!(fem)Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.4K
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: While you're too busy putting up with that asshole boyfriend of yours, Jungkook spends his time trying to get you to see that he could be a better man for you. You're all he wants and he knows you want him just as much, you just need a little push. Specifically a night in with him and perhaps spill all he feels to you even if it might lead to you both falling apart.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: pining(jk), friends to lovers!, sum angst, tiny fluff, sorta unrequited feelings but not rlly, oc is emotionally constipated & very conflicted, jk is a desperate feral simp for oc, jk with neck tatts & of course his sleeve tatt😩, jk wearing smudge eyeliner(soooo hot), jk with brow & lip piercing, jealousy, slight possessive jk!, mentions of toxic relationship, smoking pot(jk & oc), infidelity(oc), arguing, sexual tension, heavy petting, heated making out, sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, big dick!jk, softdom!jk, sub!oc, rough vaginal fingering, oral(f receiving very briefly), cum eating/tasting, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink/difference, light dirty talk, missionary, biting/marking & light choking.
A/N: Hiii!. I’m back with another fic 🫶🏻 this took kinda long to finish & for what, I was kinda iffy about it but I rlly wanted to post another story again. I rlly hope you enjoy this, pls let me know. I shall post another one soon hopefully. I love youuu allll💗💕🩷🎀
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Through the thick haze that lingers over the both of you in his bedroom, Jungkook still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re real and sitting right next to him. A cloudy puff of smoke escapes your red stained lips, licking them right after and when you turn to look at him with a blissful smile. He couldn’t think of a better sight. A better moment than this, because he likes the way you look beside him in his room, on his bed, when you look at him like that. Just you.
Jungkook’s been trying to get you to come over to his place for a while now. Seeing you in the halls in passing or down at the laundromat and sometimes in the elevator isn’t enough for him. Being next door to you simply isn’t enough. The amount of times he’s knocked on your door to borrow some fucking sugar or to ask if you need your sink fixed again. Hell, he’s gone as far as pretending his shower was broken just so he could use yours in the meantime. Anything in the book just to get closer to you really.
Like almost every night when he’s waiting up for you after your shift from the bar a little ways from the complex just so he could walk you home. Asking about your night and keeping you company down the sketchy dark streets because he doesn’t like the thought of you all alone out there.
You always remind him that he doesn’t have to do that but Jungkook insists he must and walks you home every night anyway. He likes to. Especially if it means he gets to spend more time with you while keeping you safe.
“I just needa make sure my pretty neighbor gets inside safely, can’t have anything happen to her.”
An addictive sensual melody of a song plays low from his stereo system, filling the lingering silence between you in Jungkook’s bedroom and the heady bliss you’re starting to feel puts your overworked mind at ease.
You said you wanted to forget about whatever happened in your walls earlier(all he heard was some heated argument between you and your bitch ass boyfriend) and for once not feel a single thing but that of the burning relaxation between your fingers. Which is why you’re currently sitting beside him on his comfy bed smoking some of the pot he deals. And yet, here he is making you feel a million other things instead. Jungkook is not even doing anything but merely existing.
The way he looks so pretty leaning back against his deep burgundy colored wall. It’s cute how long strands of hair nearly cover his dark eye-lined eyes, although you miss the sight of his hot brow piercing. He had you melting on sight when he walked you home not even an hour ago when you first saw him. The fit of a signature leather jacket, an old band tee that fits his slim frame perfectly and baggy denim jeans with a metal square studded belt gleaming around his hips. Veiny wrists clad in thick leather bands, some silver studded and spiked as well. Long slender fingers adorning pretty silver jewelry.
Jungkook always looks so good.
Damn him for being so fucking hot.
“Got anything on your mind?. Wanna share?.” He breaks the silence, staring back at you whilst taking a long drag from the thick blunt held within two digits. His leather jacket had been shrugged off the moment you both entered his room and now you’ve got the pleasure of staring at his beautiful tattooed arm and a few that litter the right side of his neck.
It’s a moment before you answer, eyes trailing up to his pretty irises that stare back at you, glazed over with a look you can’t quite pinpoint this instant, but it makes your insides feel on fire. If he knew what you were currently thinking about, you wonder what he’d say or do. The guy is almost always running through your mind, as much as you don’t want to admit it.
“I don’t think so.”
He hears you utter softly, tearing your gaze away to place your attention upon the many posters he’s got plastered over his wall instead. You can’t handle the way he’s looking at you anymore. Jungkook just loves eye contact.
“Why not?.” He sighs in disbelief, neglecting his half smoked blunt on the ashtray near him on his desk. Jungkook doesn’t want to get too fucked up and properly enjoy this time spent with you. He’s not sure if you’d wanna come back again after tonight. But he can’t help but think that you look like you belong here right beside him.
A breathy chuckle tumbles out of you along with smoke. You roll your eyes and shake your head.
“Because it’s simply not something I want you to know.”
Now Jungkook really wants to know what's going on inside that mind of yours. He’s got a few guesses, but he’s not so sure you’d like to hear them.
A sudden thought ponders in his mind and with a quirk of a brow he scoots a bit closer as he then suggests,
“Well, what if I tell you something in return?.”
The idea momentarily intrigues you, lifting your head to meet his excitement filled orbs. He almost looks innocent for a change.
“Mm, like what?.” You ask before inhaling another huff of the now shortened blunt.
Jungkook gets a bit distracted watching you and the way you blow out the smoke from your lips. Why do you make smoking look so hot?.
Another thing he finds himself distracted by is the peek of cleavage he sees by the first few buttons undone of your white blouse mandatory for your bartending gig. His throat constricts at the sight, arousal burning in his gut and Jungkook forces his eyes back up, delaying in his response to you.
“It can be anything.”
“Fine, tell me a secret.” You comply without much thought, not really minding the idea at all. It should be fun and simple, something else to keep the thoughts at bay.
Jungkook likes the sound of that, so he leans close and whispers in your ear. The deepness of his low timbre and lips slightly grazing the shell of your ear, it all sends a good tingle down your spine you try to fight off. You don’t want him to know the effect he has on you.
“I heard you the other night through the wall and I fucked my fist hard imagining it was you instead. Came so damn hard hearing the hot sounds you made.”
The filth he just confessed widens your eyes in slight surprise. Did he just say that?. The fact that Jungkook got off to the sound of you trying to make yourself cum after hours in bed and admitted it was so hot.
The walls are thin and you’ve found his bed is adjacent to yours with the same layout as your own apartment. So it’s no wonder he could hear you. Sometimes you hear him as well.
You very much heard him that night too and his desperate sexy moans through the walls fueled your own drive to your end with your hot neighbor in mind. So much for keeping the thoughts at bay, because now they stray further imagining what he might look like himself laying in bed chasing his own end. Most likely shirtless, boxers pulled halfway down with a tight fist wrapped around his hard cock, head thrown back, sweaty chest heaving, mouth wide open and groa— Okay! That’s enough!. You force the sinful thoughts to go away at once. It’s definitely not something you want to think about right now with him right beside you. It’s not so good for your foggy mind and the ache between your legs.
Jungkook leans back a bit, taking in the expression on your face with a teasing grin. He knows he’s got you all hot and bothered. You can try to hide it all you want, but he knows. Jungkook always knows.
“Your turn.” The whisper he rasps deeply in your ear fuels simmering heat in the pit of your tummy. It’s crazy how just hearing his voice is enough to make you feel all hot.
‘Come on Y/N. Keep it together’.
When you turn to look at him once again with those pretty eyes, all Jungkook wants is to simply tug you to him impossibly closer and kiss the fuck out of you. To taste those sweet lips he’s always dreaming about.
“I like that you walk me home every night, it’s sweet of you.” He barely hears your low voice, but you say it so lovely with a tiny smile peering up at him, giving him a glimpse of your pretty teeth.
How are you so fucking cute right now?.
“I like you so much.” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confess, passion dripping off his tongue. It tugs your heartstrings, but you pretend you didn’t hear it.
“That time you took a shower in my bathroom when you forgot a towel and I brought you one. Well, after you left I went to my room and touched myself because I thought you looked so hot half naked and with dripping wet hair.” It almost took a lot for you to admit that, but it just came out. A sheepish smile spreads across your face with slight embarrassment. You bring the blunt up to your lips for another much needed drag.
Since he shared a dirty secret, why not share one too. It’s only fair.
“Fuck, your so hot.” Jungkook groans at the thought, shutting his eyes for a moment as he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth imagining you in bed desperately trying to get yourself off to the thought of him.
“I want you to come over more.” He then says, a bit eagerly turning back to you.
“I like the little talks we have and when you're kind enough to ask if I need help with anything.” You add on, gaze softening as you remember those times Jungkook was able to make you forget what a hard night you had with stories of his own that got a few laughs out of you or even asking about the things no one ever takes the time to learn about you, especially when he never does.
It’s what you really appreciate and a part of you hopes that you never lose the safe space that you feel with Jungkook, whenever you’re near him. He’s a comforting warmth, a home you terribly miss sometimes, keeps the empty void within filled that yearns for something. He makes it all feel even a little better most times.
“You’re such a sweetheart and I hate when that motherfucker comes around when he treats you like shit.”
And suddenly it changes in a millisecond. You still briefly, body growing tense beside him and he notices the change as well when the smile slips off your face, knowing he hit a nerve he shouldn’t have.
“You didn’t have to say that.” Low and soft you utter tinged with sadness and he feels the disappointment in your words. In the way you look at him. Your hurt filled eyes tell him so. Striking a pang in his heart, but he can’t bear this any longer. Everything he feels on the inside. Himself. For you. About you. It’s always you.
“But it’s true. Why do you let it happen when…when you have me.” Jungkook sighs with the utmost pented frustration. He doesn’t get why you let yourself get treated so badly. That the lousy fucker is taking advantage of you and messing with your beautiful head. It’s sickening. His heart hurts knowing it and the fact that he can’t necessarily do anything about it. At least not without hurting you in the process by butting into your toxic relationship. You’d probably stop speaking to him if he tried to as well, something he certainly cannot risk. But here he is doing just that. Jungkook just can’t let it happen anymore.
“It’s…it’s just complicated.”
It’s all you could ever say, he’s heard it all before. It’s always so fucking complicated and it seems like it’s never going to get uncomplicated any time soon either. Deep down you know this, but you’re too stubborn to still try to make it work.
“It wouldn’t be with me.” He clasps his hand over yours that’s resting upon your naked thigh, gently squeezing your plush skin in a comforting manner. It startles you, makes you feel those things all over again. Everything he’s saying is getting to your head and taking over your body. Maybe it’s the weed. It’s definitely the weed.
“What are you doing?.” With furrowed brows in confusion, you pull your hand away from under his searing touch and scoot further to create some type of distance. He’s too close for comfort, for the addictive feeling he provides that’s all too consuming.
You’re slipping away from him, putting up those walls he’s been trying to tear down for months now. He won’t let you, not this time.
“I just wanna show you how sweet I could be to you.” Jungkook never tears his gaze away, eyes holding so much emotion that you almost can’t hold it together yourself and it’s enough to crack some of the hard shelled resolve you’ve tried scraping together in a desperate attempt to stay put, never stray.
“You are sweet Jungkook, so sweet I-…I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.” You sighed out almost defeatedly as you slump your head against his wall, staring up at the ceiling.
He’s the sweetest and everything opposite from the man you’ve been seeing. Jungkook cares about you so much, you can tell by the way he’s always looking out for you. The things he says, the things he does for you even when you don’t ask for it. The efforts he makes in getting to know the real you and when he gives you the heart-melting look that makes you want to unleash the deepest parts of you that you never share with anyone else. To let him have his way. Let him have you.
“I want you, you already know this.” Jungkook’s husky whisper brings you back to him and the comforting yet suffocating confines of his bedroom.
He wants to so badly reach out and hold your hand. Have you look at him again and make you hear his heart out till it’s full content, till you know everything he hopes, dreams and desires for.
“You don’t need that stupid pretty boy, I bet he doesn’t know how to take care of you since I keep hearing you night after night.” Jungkook shakes his head, gently leaning closer to have you near him again. Within his four walls, inches, millimeters. It’s never enough for Jungkook and it never will be. If he could sear himself into your skin, meld himself forever to your body, he would if it meant never parting from you. If it meant you’d belong to him and he belonged to you.
Wouldn’t you want that too?.
Your breath hitches at how terribly right he is. It’s always half assed and most of the time you never finish, leaving you high and dry and it hurts whenever he leaves right after, stinging your heart and pride. Leaving you alone in bed to cry, wallowing in self pity.
“Plus, I’m way prettier.”
Of course, he speaks no lies. Jungkook’s the prettiest and handsomest you’ve ever seen. No one could compare nor compete. You’re always staring a little too long at his pretty plush lips and the shiny lip ring pierced into his skin you find so hot, glittering doe eyes, flawless features that always steals the breath from your lungs whenever you see him. He’s like a perfect daydream come to life.
“I just know I could have that pussy soaking for me in seconds.” He’s in your ear again and again his hand gently grips over your thigh, fingers sinking in between the skin where they meet.
The sudden touch has you snapping your head to look back at him, startled and he’s so close. If you lean in just a bit you could kiss him. Jungkook smiles his cute smile down at you as his hand kneads your plush thigh.
“Huh, you just need to hear my voice and have me look at you like this, don’t you?.” He rasps deeply. The sound rich in your ears that sends a pulse and multitude of flutters to your pussy.
He isn’t wrong. Jungkook doesn’t have to do much to get you wet and going. Especially when he lives in your mind most late nights.
He hums and pushes his hand further between your legs and you slightly pull them apart for him, falling into his sweet temptation. You bet his long and slender fingers would feel so good, better than your own on those nights when you’re desperate.
“I bet you’re so wet right now. I could take care of it.”
A soft moan escapes you at the first light stroke of his finger against your covered clit he finds easily.
“There she is, let me in baby, please.” He rubs it over a few more times, nail grazing it gently before his hand fully engulfs your heat, cupping it in his hold. Palm digging against your mound and rubbing it in a slow but hard tandem that pulls a loud moan from your throat, unable to hold it back and you allow your eyes to fall shut, basking in the pleasure he provides. Gently rocking your hips up against the firmness of his palm. He drops his head beside yours, groaning into your ear as he feels wetness seeping through your panties. Cock hardening to life, throbbing painfully and the tightness in his jeans is beginning to feel almost unbearable.
“I know you want me too.” Jungkook urges, breath picking up and suddenly you snap out of his spell, quickly removing his hand from between your legs.
No. It’s too much. You can’t let yourself fall too deep in whatever this is between you. It isn’t fair to Jungkook and yourself, not when he’s still in the picture.
“You’re delusional.” You spat with spite, scooting further away from him once again. Disappointed with every second that you almost let yourself get pulled astray into his tight clutches.
Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head. He grins amusedly and shuffles his way to you on his bed. “Maybe, but you are too if you think things are gonna work out with that little boy.”
“It might.” You retort weakly, although you don’t sound so sure yourself.
He cackles, throwing his head back.
“Oh, sweetheart it wouldn’t and you know it.”
Jungkook is beside you once again and continues on his little spiel.
“I know you like me too. You can’t stay away either. Stop lying to yourself. You want me to keep looking at you, want me to keep coming over and ask for stupid shit cuz you know I just wanna see you. You want me to keep wanting you, but baby I could only hold out for so long.”
His words rattle you, stir something in you that you try to force down, but perhaps Jungkook is right. You like the guy, absolutely adore him and maybe if you had met him first, in different circumstances. One where you're a better version of yourself, not struggling, not so desperate for a new change in life, things could be different.
“Why do you like me so much?.” A frustrated sigh heaves past your lips, looking back at him with deep perplexity.
Who would like you like this?. Want you this way?.
You know he’s liked you ever since you moved in all those months ago and you’ve always wondered why. What did he see in you?. What made him want you this much?.
“Because I did the moment I saw you. It just happened. I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, always.” Jungkook’s eyes are practically heart shaped, staring back at you with such intensity yet a loving softness that makes your whole world spin out of control.
Smoke wafts between you and the now neglected bud between your fingers continue to burn just like your desire for him.
You don’t know if it would ever die like fiery embers, fade away into nothingness. It possibly couldn’t. He’s always fueling the fire.
“No one’s captured my sole attention so easily like you do. I’m so drawn to you and I can’t help it. I like how sweet you really are. I like watching you get excited over little things because I hardly get to see you that way. Like that time we stopped at the convenience store on the way home and you were so happy they restocked those jelly candies you like so much. It was really cute.”
Your breath hitches and your insides turn to mush.
Fuck, what is he doing?.
Jungkook chuckles, seemingly thinking of something else before he goes on to tell you more.
“You’re cute when you think you’re alone in the laundromat, with your earphones in, singing along to your music and doing little dances. You care, even if you get irritated with me sometimes, you still don’t hesitate to help and I know you’re smart. I’ve sneaked a peek of your architecture designs and ideas before when you weren’t looking.”
He sees the second your eyes widen with shock and slight irritation but before you could say anything on the matter, he beats you to it.
“They’re great, you don’t need to give up something you love just for someone who doesn’t deserve you. You don’t need him at all to make it. You could do that on your own.” Jungkook speaks everything he means and the way he’s looking at you right now is scary because deep down you know it’s true. You tear your glossed over eyes from his ardent ones and shuffle off of his bed completely.
“You know, I came here to forget things but you’re only making it harder by bringing this shit up Jungkook. I don’t need this right now. I’d appreciate it if you could just mind your own fucking business for once.” You’re snagging your purse from his bedside table and yanking it onto your shoulder, putting out the neglected blunt on the ashtray near his soft glowing lamp light.
His brows pin together in deep confusion and hurries off his bed as well with abruptness, trailing after you.
“You know I can’t when it comes to you.”
Standing beside you in a second, eyes moving frantically over the side of your face. He places a hand upon your shoulder, shaking you gently for a second more of your attention.
What had he done?. He just told you half of what he loves and admires of you and then you're running away the next second, looking mad at him as if he’s the one who's to blame for the hell in your life.
“Would you please look at me?.”
You don’t give him that, too busy trying to get your heels back on as you hold onto his wall for support. You’re leaving and Jungkook’s panicking. He’s in front of you now, invading your space as you shift to get the other heel on.
“If you want to forget, I could make you.”
“I know what you really need, just say the words and I will.” He urges on, watching you intensely for your next move and impatiently of the words you speak.
“I need to go.” Is all you mutter, moving past him to his door as you reach for the old brass knob.
Jungkook’s fingers clutch tightly onto the band of your black skirt from behind as a last resort to stop you from twisting it open and leaving.
“Fine. If you leave, then this is the last time I’ll ever bother you. You want me to stay out of your business, I will. I’ll leave you alone for good.” You hear him huff in a threatening snarl, yanking his touch off of you as he backs away to give you the space you clearly wanted.
“I don’t want to keep waiting around for something that’s not gonna happen. I need to move on too.” He then spits with sharp bitterness.
You turn around to meet his frustrated dark orbs. Brows pinched in a mean furrow as he watches you.
It should be enough for you to walk away, to walk out of his room and never look back. He’s making it easy for you but so hard to do so at the same time. If this means not seeing him everyday, his pretty smiles, the talks you two share on the way home together and basking in the comfort he brings you by simply being within his presence. Abandoning the home he’s made in your heart. Fuck!. You can’t do it. You shouldn’t have gotten too close. It was going to hurt either way, you or him and all you’ve been doing is hurting him and ultimately yourself in the process.
“You’re always in the way. Why do you always make everything so goddamn hard, Jungkook.” You huff so frustratedly, shoulders dropping along with your resolve because you can’t do this anymore.
He shakes his head vehemently, jaw tensing as he takes a step closer. His heavy gaze pierces your being. It makes you feel small and pathetic. You are in this moment and so weak for Jungkook and all of what he makes you feel.
“No, you do that on your own. You want to stay miserable with that fucker be my guest, but you know I’d take care of you way better than him. I may not be rich like he is, but I can still give you everything you need.”
Jungkook states, now standing directly in front of you. He never loses the mean furrow or the frustration and burning anger in his eyes you witness. Baring them to you and it takes all of you to keep yourself rooted in place, to not step up to him, lean in and put out the fire yourself.
“I’ll always take care of you. Always make you feel wanted and special because you are to me. I love you but you make it so hard for me when you act like the dumb and weak little thing he wants you to be for him.” The nasty edge of the last sentence he grits through clenched teeth strikes a nerve within you. You know how awfully right he is. It’s draining and a pain how right Jungkook always is but never as much as it is being with him. Despite his crude words, his touch upon your cheek as he curls a strand of hair behind your ear is gentle and soft just how he is with you.
The way you fell for him.
“I want you to be my proud shining gem, my sweet girl.” Harsh gaze softening, cradling your cheek like you’re a precious porcelain doll. He whispers near your lips, pure adoration melting into you and your lustrous eyes warm with a passion that his heart yearns for. Eyes falling to your lips he’s aching on the inside to get a taste of, he can’t help it.
This time you can’t turn away. Can’t stop the feeling he's bloomed inside you ever since you met him in the hallway the first week you moved in all those months ago. This time you can’t fight it and push everything you feel for Jungkook in the deep crevices within that you never look for.
You let yourself feel it all. Your frustration, your weak temptations for the man standing before you that looks at you like you are the whole universe. Deep yearning and ache whenever he’s near. His anger, his frustration, his comfort and all his love. It’s all you truly want.
It’s what drives you to close the hair's breadth distance in between and meld your lips against his soft ones. You feel him go rigid and still for the briefest moment in slight surprise. It’s like electric currents shocking through him at once and he’s tangling his hand in your hair and the other at the side of your neck, kissing you back with just as much fervor. Both of your tongues wrestle together, ravishing each other like you’ve been starved all your life. Teeth clashing, mixed saliva staining the corners of your mouth and chin as you taste one another.
Jungkook pulls you by the waist and yanks you back with him towards the edge of his bed, manhandling you around as he pulls apart from your lips to push you back on his bed. He’s on you in a second and devouring your lips once again. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you, so sweet and so addictive. Soft moans of yours into his mouth he swallows up and they get louder and desperate at the way he grinds his hips against your covered mound.
“Want you so fucking bad. Always.” Jungkook breathily moans against your cheek, lips traveling past your jaw and upon your neck. Suckling and mouthing hot wet kisses against your skin in his wake to explore your body.
You moan in response, tangling your fingers into his dark hair and tugging at the strands. His touch, kisses, everything feels so amazing. You can’t believe you kept yourself from this. From him for so long.
He paints his own marks into the side of your neck whilst his hands bunch your skirt up to expose your covered core in sexy black lace panties. He pulls his lips apart and lifts his head to peer down at you.
“Can I make you feel good?.” Jungkook groaned softly against you, smooth palm rubbing over your covered cunt and when his fingers brush over your clit through the fabric, how could you deny him when the simple touch of him makes you feel so damn good. Body hot, tingling and aching desperately for him.
“Yes, please! Please!.You softly moan, nodding your head rapidly up at him.
Jungkook chuckles lightheartedly, swiping strands of hair back from your flushed face.
“Heh, aw, you sound so pretty when you beg like that.”
Alas he skims his hand beneath the hem of your panties and plays with your slick folds, spreading them apart with his fingers. They drift lower and feel just how wet you already are and Jungkook groans in delight.
“Fuck, so wet baby. I’ll take care of you. I’ll show you how good I can, better than he ever could.”
Your body squirms underneath his big frame towering above you, whines and moans escaping you as he cops his feel of your hot pulsating pussy and a startled gasp tumbles past your lips when Jungkook suddenly tears your panties down your thighs quite aggressively till they fall off your feet.
He pushes your thighs apart and you spread them wider for him as he lowers himself down your body to fully engulf the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt to his hungry eyes. Glossy with your slick, puffed and throbbing just for him. A sharp intake of breath is heard as he stares intensely at your gaping hole. His cock grows harder at the sight and Jungkook has to hold himself back, fingers wrinkling the sheets hard in his hold at the side of your head.
God, you drive him to insanity and he knows he’s not gonna last long once he finally gets to be inside you.
“Jungkook, please don’t just stare.” His eyes snap up towards your face and sees the complete lust swirling in your irises. The furrow between your brows, begging him to do something just like your cunt throbs for the same thing.
“I need you.”
He moans throatily at your desperate plea and it has him springing into action. Leaning back up to smash his lips against yours with his fingers back between your wet folds. He swallows up your whines when his fingers rub your needy clit, gathering the juices you leak to spread all over your bud he plays with. Back arching and mouth falling open against his as he sinks two digits inside immediately with how drenched you absolutely are, coating them fully.
“Oh!. Oh my- fuck!-“ A near-sob racks through you, head falling back against the sheets.
“Feels good huh. You're squeezing my fingers so tight, baby.” Jungkook purrs in your ear, plunging his digits in and out of your plush walls in a maddening pace that already has you a quivering mess beneath him.
Obscene squelches of his fingers fucking your soaked pussy fill the otherwise silence of his bedroom. You don’t even remember when you last heard the remnants of the playlist he had playing long moments ago. All your clouded mind and body knows is the hot pleasure coursing through your veins, just how good Jungkook is making you feel.
Your breathy and whiny moans raise octaves higher the deeper he reaches inside your cunt each time he pounds his digits back in, finding that special spongy spot that gushes more of your essence, dripping down his hand and wetting his sheets below. He doesn’t care one bit of the mess you’re making, hell no, it only fuels his carnal desire to see you make an even bigger mess, to see just how fucking wetter he can get your pretty pussy for him.
“Right there huh?. Mmm, fuck you’re so hot. So perfect for me, sweetheart.” He’s so turned on, body buzzing with hot arousal watching you squirm and the way your wet pussy tightens around his fingers. No thoughts but your tight plush cunt, the hot sounds you make that sends his cock throbbing in his jeans begging for a feel of you. Filled with the sudden urge as he licks the side of your face up, tongue flattening and leaving a sheen of his saliva before biting the apple of your cheek hard with a deep groan rumbling against your skin.
The action you find oddly hot yourself and he knows it too by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers hard. He catches your pretty face that contorts deeply in pleasure, watching him with fucked out eyes, mouth wide open of your cute moans falling one after the other at the fast pace he fucks your cunt.
Fuck, how are you so fucking beautiful like this?. How do you always manage to outdo yourself and make him fall harder for you 100x more than he already has.
Needing to taste you all over again, he drives his tongue down your open mouth, sucking and wrestling with yours in a frantic heated rhythm. Jungkook practically devours you, never wanting to part and both your saliva mixed makes the kiss more messy and nasty than it already is.
He never ceases the harsh pace his fingers pound into you nor does he give you a moment to breath kissing you like he’ll never get to again.
“Mmm!- Ju- ngh!.” You struggle against him to get some air in, voice muffled against his mouth.
How he ravishes you and fucks your leaking pussy, it’s almost too much and the coil in your stomach further expands, almost ready to explode any moment at how heavenly you feel.
Jungkook gets one last long kiss of your lips then pulls apart finally and you get blessed with the sight of his rosy, plump lips with a sheen of your mixed salivas coating them. There’s small streaks of your smeared red lipstick at the corner of his lips and down his chin as well. He looks so pretty and the sight of him sends your cunt pulsating a multitude of currents around his fingers.
A whine of protest leaves you the second he backs away a bit, hands pushing your thighs higher against your chest and he lifts a brow at you to comply.
“Be a good girl and hold them up for me.” In a heartbeat, you hook your hands beneath the fold of your knees and keep them up like he wants.
“Good girl.” Jungkook hums with satisfaction and leans back over you, dropping his head against your forehead, dark lidded eyes boring into yours.
“Baby, I want you to watch with me as I make this perfect pussy squirt for me.”
You moan in response and when he shifts his head to look down, so do you and your breath gets caught in your throat.
Watching him continue to batter your pussy with his two long pretty fingers plunging in and out at a menacingly fast and hard pace. With his tattooed hand that is clad in his leather and silver bracelets, a thick black one with spikes. Eyes skimming over the veins that pop out prominently from the strain he’s putting on his tattooed arm to make you cum. Fingers reaching so deep in your pussy you nearly can’t take it anymore as he pounds and twists his digits in. It’s all enough to have you quake with immense pleasure, eyes wanting to fall shut but you fight to keep them open, orbs crossing over and the band in your tummy snaps at once as you cum hard, jets of your essence shooting out your gaping hole the moment Jungkook pulls his fingers out to see your pussy squirt like he so badly wanted to.
It splashes over your whole mound, wetting your thighs with droplets and soaking his sheets below your bottom as well as sprinkling some spots on his dark denim jeans.
“Holy shit!. That’s so fucking hot. You’re so- Mmm!- So hot, baby.” Jungkook growls almost animalistically, cupping both your cheeks and giving you a searing kiss, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting into the plump flesh before letting it go.
He nearly came in his pants at the sight of your pussy squirting and the obscene view of it soaking wet, still pulsating from the intense pleasure he gave you.
“One more time before I fuck your pussy, wanna see it again.” Jungkook pleads while pecking your lips with chaste kisses over and over.
“No!. I don’t thin-“ You immediately shake your head whining at the thought, you're so sensitive and you’re not so sure you can do it again. It was a whole new intense feeling for you.
Jungkook seems to think otherwise, nodding his head down at you.
“Yes, baby. Yes you can. I’ll fuckin’ make you do it again for me.”
With that, he’s shoving the same two digits back into your sloppy cunt, sinking in knuckle deep and fucking his fingers in your pussy twice as fast and hard. So determined to make you explode like a waterfall once more.
Your moans become uncontrollable, high in pitch as you throw your head back. Body buzzing with hot searing pleasure, hips and legs shaking violently as you lay there and take it. His fingers reach so deep, jackhammering into your g spot over and over in a frenzy.
Jungkook sucks in a deep breath, moaning along with you. So addicted to watching the sight of your beautiful tear stained face cry out in ecstasy then down below where he fucks your soaked pussy, fingers drenched in your sweet juices. Damn, he doesn’t know which sight to focus on more.
You’re quaking with intense pleasure, so loud and crying out for him. He feels a hand of yours clinging onto the front of his shirt and tugs, needing something to help you grasp reality but you’re too far gone. Too drunk off of the way he’s making you feel with his fingers alone.
“Shit!. You’re gonna cum. Gonna fuckin’ squirt for me. Can feel it sweetheart. Squeezing me so damn tight.” Your walls grip his digits so tight he almost can’t pull out all the way, so he keeps abusing them deeper against that sweet spot of yours.
“I- fuckkk!. Jungkook!. I can’t- Nghh!. Oh!.” You sob aloud, almost pathetically as your body shakes violently underneath him. You’re so close, he can feel it and Jungkook is just as desperate as you are to have you reach euphoria.
“Yes you can. C’mon baby, let go for me. Fuckin’ give it to me please!.” Jungkook coos down at you with low growls and pleas of his own. It’s all it takes to have you reach your end. “Hah!. Fuck fuck fuckkkk.” Convulsing, eyes blown in ecstasy staring back at him as you cum so hard around his digits. Splashing more of your essence all over his hand and pussy absolutely drenched with your wetness.
Jungkook stares mesmerized at the mess he’s made of you and he can’t help but to play with you a bit more. Splaying his fingers flat over your folds, further spreading your wetness all over. You’re so soaked, swollen red and still so sensitive. You push his hand away with a helpless yelp of protest.
He surprises you as he lifts his hand and licks your slick off of his fingers, sticking the same ones he fucked you with in his mouth. Sucking on them and moaning in delight at your taste as he does so. A breath of yours hitches, feeling hot all over once again at the lewd sight of him enjoying the taste of you off his fingers.
“Mmm, so fuckin’ good. Love your taste…need more.”
Before you know it Jungkook lowers himself between your spread legs, face diving first into your pussy. A sharp gasp escapes you fleetingly, chest heaving and you watch from above as he laps at your folds. Drunken orbs staring up at you before they fall shut with brows furrowed deeply in pleasure like he’s the one getting eaten out.
“S-stop!. Pleasseee!.” You nearly scream as he tongue fucks your hole, thighs clamping tight around his head as you try to wiggle feel, but Jungkook doesn’t care and wraps his arms around your thighs to stop you from thrashing in his hold.
“Mmngh…just a taste, baby.” The vibrations of his growl against your pussy sends a rack of shivers through you and you whine helplessly, trying to pull him off by the grip of his hair.
“Hah!. Uh- that’s enough!.” You yank harder and this time he relents, mouth pulling off of your slick pearl with a wet suck.
The taste of you lingers on his tongue and he’s become so addicted to it. He didn’t want to stop and have you keep cumming on his face, in his mouth, on his tongue and drink all you have to offer up like the best thing in the world. Jungkook rests his forehead against your sweaty one, heavy breaths mixing with your pants and fanning over your cheeks. Carnal passion burning in his pretty smudge eyeliner orbs. He’s so fucking hot and your pussy clenches hard staring up at him. He pecks your lips once and twice more, missing them on him.
“Next time, I’ll make you cum on my tongue. Eat this sweet pussy for hours till you beg me to fuckin stop and trust me, I won’t want to.” Jungkook promises, backing away to finally unbuckle his studded belt, watching you as he does so and your pretty pussy that still throbs for him.
His words catch you off guard for a moment and excitement courses within you at the thought of doing this again. Smile growing wide as you watch him get his pants off while you lift your own top overhead, fingers undoing your bra and tossing it aside.
He stills for a moment, sucks in a breath at the sight of you, plump breasts, all naked, and exposed lying there just for him.
“Fuck, look at you. So beautiful.” Jungkook whispers more to himself as he lifts his own t-shirt overhead and you marvel at the beauty he is. He’s well defined, built of scrumptious muscles, prominent veins you have a certain attraction for with a snatched waist you're almost jealous of and deep v-lines leading to his clean shaven dick that stands tall and proud. Your eyes immediately zero in on it. He’s painfully hard, big and girthy, mushroom tip an angry red with beads of precum leaking down his shaft. It twitches a few times and he can’t help but to wrap his hand around himself, squeezing his base and lightly jacking himself off for a bit.
His dick is so pretty just like him. Every inch of his body is absolutely beautiful.
It’s so hot seeing him touch himself and watching you with heavy lust filled eyes as he does so. It has you slithering a hand past your naval and parting your folds, slipping your fingers inside. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling and it seems to have snapped something in Jungkook because suddenly he’s yanking your hand out of your pussy and pulling it up to his lips. Sucking on your digits for another taste of you. Throwing your hand back down and leaning over your smaller frame as he grabs you by the throat with slight pressure.
You're a bit startled but so excited and utterly turned on by him and the slight aggression he shows towards you, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer. He grabs himself by the base and lines his cock with your leaking hole, resting his mushroom tip against it just barely pushing in.
“Do you still want this with me?. Tell me.” He adds more pressure upon your throat, lightening his grip a moment after to have you answer him properly.
Though you nod your head frantically at his words along with desperate pleas falling rapidly from your lips.
“Yes. I want you so bad, Jungkook. Only you.”
“Fuck!.” He hisses, pushing the entirety of his hard length inside your pussy to the hilt in one go with no resistance due to how wet you still are. Body going still and muttering curses against your cheek, breath hitching at how heavenly you feel around his cock. So fucking wet, plush walls chocking him tight and the flutters of your pussy inside he can feel has him on edge already, eyes nearly rolling because fuck, do you feel so goddamn good.
“Fucking tight. God, feel so perfect baby.” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting more marks into your skin since the ones from before are starting to fade. You’re his now and if you don’t know it already he’ll make you.
“Mm!. Please fuck me Jungkook.” You moan wantonly, bucking your hips up for friction. His cock fills you up so good you can hardly think straight, being stretched out by him.
“Shh, baby. I’ll make you feel so good. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” He lifts his head up, staring directly into your eyes and tightening his hold around your throat again as he drags his big cock out till the fat tip, slamming back into you hard. Repeating the motion over and over at a maddening pace.
Both your groans and moans fill his bedroom mixed with skin slapping and the obscene sound of his cock plunging deep into your soaking pussy with wet squelches.
“Harder!. Hngh. Please!.” You grab at his shoulder and biceps, nearly sobbing when he gives you just what you want. Pounding your pussy deeper and rough with hard thrusts, heavy balls smacking against your ass. Both your legs are tossed over his shoulders and he’s got your thighs pressed against your chest with his body nearly crushing you. He loves the way you look beneath him, so small and cute.Tattooed hand still around your throat choking you with enough pressure to send you reeling.
“So fuckin’ pretty. Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He groans roughly against your lips, slipping his tongue out and into your mouth. Making out with you in a sloppy and heated manner.
“Nngh…feel so- Ahh!. So- so good!.” His cock fucks into you so deep, hitting your sweet spot directly each time. Legs shaking, body quaking and face contorted in immense pleasure, tears streak your pink cheeks as you whine and sob like a desperate little thing begging to cum undone.
“Know it does, baby. Pussy squeezing me so good. Gonna fuckin’ cum soon.” His words are broken heaves, brows pinched and mouth open of moans that have you clenching harder on his cock, making it difficult pulling halfway out with each drag. He's definitely not gonna last long like he initially thought.
Your soaked pussy hugs him snuggly and the lewd sight of it swallowing his big cock, creamy white ring surrounding his base and balls with both your essence mixed. He throbs inside of you, nearing his own release.
“Gonna let me cum inside?, sweetheart.” Jungkook grunts hotly above you, hips snapping harshly into yours.
“Mhmm!. Please!. Want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your high pitched squeals and pleas are like music to his ears. Each sound drives him closer to his sweet end.
“Fuck, keep begging me like that and I’ll bust inside this pretty cunt.” He gruffs, stomach caving in with each clench of your pussy as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts.
“Ohh!. Please!. Want you to fill me up. Make a mess in my pussy, please!.” You babble out, moaning aloud as you do so and cling onto him tighter. Your tits bounce so hypnotizingly with every pound you take and Jungkook removes his hand from your neck to fondle each one, pulling and twisting your puffy nubs that makes you an even whiner mess.
Jungkook loves this so much, and thinks he could never get used to this because he’s always going to want to see you this way. Over and over now that he’s got a taste and feel of you.
“Did you ever let him?.” He doesn’t know what propels him to ask. Voice an octave deeper in a husk and almost stern. Maybe it’s the way you squeeze around him to Heaven and back, or the thought that he’s seen you this way before.
Did that asshole ever have you like this?. Have you a crying and moaning mess?. Creaming his cock and looking like the perfect sin while doing so. Looking beautiful and so drunk off his dick fucking you so good. He possibly couldn’t right?.
With rapid shakes of your head at his words, you moan your truths to him. So fucked out and desperate to even think straight.
“Not w-without a condom…no one’s ever-“
His steady rhythm falters and he presses his weight into you, holding you tight against his embrace as his arms wrap under you. Head against yours and staring down into your pretty drunken stare.
“Shit!. Hngh. Gonna f-fuckkk…claim this pussy. You're mine, baby.”
You keep your gaze focused on him but your eyes roll back once you feel his hand slip down in between and rub your clit with his calloused fingers in rapid figures of eight.
“Cum with me baby, please.” Jungkook pleads hoarsely, hot breath panting against your face.
“C’mon, milk my fuckin’ cock. Cum for me, sweetheart.”
His cock pounds into you so deliciously with his fingers on your clit and the way he stares down at you, cooing filthy words, looking so hot as he does so. It's all overwhelming and what snaps the coil in your tummy. You clench so hard around him as you cum, soaking his cock with your essence. Jungkook follows in close pursuit, painting your walls with spurts of his white hot release, cock pressed so deep and hips stuttering against you.
“Fucckkk!. Shit!. Hah…Nghh.” His body falls against yours, chest heaving with unsteady breaths as he tries to calm his racing heart.
You’re no better, panting and staring up at the ceiling basking in the afterglow of the amazing pleasure and orgasm he gave you, his cum seeping out of you.
Jungkook lifts his head up to meet your gaze just as you look down and he shuffles closer in dire need to kiss you but a wince tumbles out of you suddenly that he pauses abruptly midway.
“It hurts.” You say with a soft groan, wiggling your back, indicating the spiked band cuffing his wrist was poking against your skin in an uncomfortable way.
You hadn’t noticed it until now, too lost in pleasure during sex to pay any mind to it before.
“Oh fuck!- I’m sorry.” Jungkook is quick to apologize, leaning up from your body to remove his arms. He rips the band off his wrist at once, pouting at the obvious indents he also notices he left above your chest where he had grabbed you by the throat during sex.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.” You reassure him with a small smile, hand clasped over his own that softly rests against your stomach.
It’s grown silent but not uncomfortable and now that you’re both not clouded with lust or driven by overwhelming emotions, Jungkook wants to tell you that this meant something to him. That everything he does for you will always mean something deeper to him. He doesn’t know if you’ve gotten it through your head yet just how much you really mean to him. How much he’s loved you all this time when you were too busy with that fool, stuck in your own four walls and in your own world most of the time.
You never really let him until now, but he wants to know more of your world. Explore it with you and expand it with him.
Would it be something that you would want?. Or would you go back to your rich boyfriend who treats you like crap each time you two get together.
With a deep breath, Jungkook gathers himself before he could tell you all of this and he clears his throat, breaking the silence at once.
“Listen, I wanted to-“
A blaring ringtone rudely interrupts Jungkook and you both stare back at each other, brows furrowed in confusion. You lean up a bit and he backs up to give you space as you reach for your discarded purse on his floor. Bringing it back with you on his bed, you grab for the device inside and see the name lit up across the screen.
It’s him.
You hesitate and don’t answer it, peering up at Jungkook who watches you intensely. He has that look on his face and glazed over eyes silently pleading with you.
He quickly snatches the phone from you so suddenly, peeking at the screen before turning it off completely. Jungkook’s pushing you back down into his bed, hovering over you.
“Don’t go back to him. Stay.” He pleads, desperately so.
Please stay with me.
You know what he’s really asking of you, you see it in his eyes and your heart sinks when you realize what he’s possibly thinking right now.
Reaching up, you cradle his cheek and bring his face down to you, catching his lips with yours in a deep kiss. Pulling back, you promise him with your whole heart, every fiber inside you burning to be with him.
He’s the only one who's ever truly made you feel wanted, loved and saw you for who you are. Jungkook never once tried to control you, take over your life, isolate you, tell you pretty lies, tear you down only to bring you back up and do it all over again because he liked seeing you cry. Never threatened to hurt you if you didn’t comply with whatever he wanted and he sure as hell never came to you smelling like another woman's intoxicating perfume.
He wasn’t like him and you were so done being with someone who doesn’t treat you like you deserve. For once, you choose happiness and your happiness belongs with Jungkook and the life you could finally start living for yourself.
“I won’t go anywhere, Jungkook. I want to stay with you.”
Jungkook knows what you mean when you say those words, he can feel it. He can see it reflecting back at him and his heart has never felt so good before because for once, his happiness chose him back and he’d never trade it for anything in this world.
A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this!. Tysm for reading 🫶🏻 let me know yours thoughts & feelings 🎀
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starkwlkr · 3 days
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teacups and princesses | max verstappen
an: i’ve never been to disneyworld/land so sorry if anything is wrong lol
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Max had promised Ophelia a trip to Disney World whenever they made it to Miami. That’s all the little girl could talk about. She even made a list of all the things she wanted to do and characters she wanted to meet. Max would do anything to see his baby girl happy so your little family of three arrived to America earlier than you usually would so Ophelia could spend a day at Disney.
Max wanted her day to feel magical so he bought her an identical sleeping beauty dress and pink glittery flats instead of those plastic heels that came worth the dress.
“Papa, you have to wear the ears!” Ophelia pointed at the Mickey wars that were on display. “Please!”
“You think papa would look cute in them?” Max grabbed her hand and walked with her to the store. You couldn’t help but take a picture of them.
“Yes! And mama can wear this one!” Ophelia pointed to the Minnie ears.
“Oh, mama is going to look so beautiful in these. Can you pick some ears for me? I want to look beautiful like mama.” Max grabbed the Minnie ears and placed them on your head. He then took his phone out and took a picture of you.
Ophelia was taking the job of finding the perfect Mickey ears for Max very seriously. She had changed her mind at least four times. When she spotted the perfect ones, she immediately grabbed them and showed them to her dad.
“I love them, phee. Here, put them on.” He crouched down so Ophelia could place the ears on his head.
“You look pretty! But mama looks prettier.” The girl giggled.
“I’ll take that.” Max chuckled.
After paying for the ears, the first stop was a ride that Ophelia had been wanting to ride for a while. The line for the teacups was a little long, but Max kept Ophelia entertained by asking her the most random questions.
“If you were a any color of the rainbow, which one would you be?”
Ophelia thought about it. Orange? No, she didn’t like it. Blue? Not even close.
“I wanna be every color!”
“That’s what I was going to say!” Max replied.
“What about you mama? What color of the rainbow would you be?” Ophelia asked you.
“I would be red. I love the color red.” You nodded.
“Traitor!” Max said jokingly.
After a while, it was your turn to ride the teacups. A while back Ophelia had told Max she wanted to ride the pink teacup so Max, wanting to be the best dad ever, raced to get to the pink teacup first.
“You know you were the only adult running for a teacup, right?” You laughed at Max. You helped Ophelia get into the teacup.
“If my girl wants the pink teacup, she’s getting the pink teacup.”
When the ride started, you all turned the wheel as fast as you could since Ophelia wanted to go super fast. Hearing your daughter laugh was like a sweet song that you never wanted to end.
“Faster!” Ophelia yelled.
You looked at Max. The smile on his face never left. It warmed your heart seeing him so happy.
When the ride ended, you were all tired from turning the wheel. You were pretty sure your arms were about to fall off, but it was worth it.
“Where to next, princess Ophelia?” Max questioned.
“I want to meet Mickey and Minnie and Sleeping beauty and Cinderella . . .” She listed all the characters she wanted to meet.
Of course Max made it all possible. He never broke his promises when it came to you and Ophelia.
As you walked around, you were on the search for sleeping beauty. Ophelia was getting disappointed that she was no where to be found, but her dad assured her that she would meet sleeping beauty.
“Phee, look over there.” You pointed towards a small group of children that were gathered around Princess Aurora.
Ophelia looked and practically fainted at the sight of her favorite princess. “Mama! Papa! It’s sleeping beauty!” She pointed at the blonde princess.
“Let’s go!” Max grabbed Ophelia’s hand.
When you got to where sleeping beauty was, Ophelia had gone shy. She was in the presence of her favorite Disney princess, how could she not be shy?
“Look at you! We have matching dresses! Oh, I love your shoes!” Princess Aurora told Ophelia.
“My papa got them for me.” She said in a low tone.
“Well your papa definitely picked the most beautiful shoes for you. They’re so glittery, I love them. Can I keep them?”
“But they’re too small for you!” Ophelia laughed at the thought of the princess wearing tiny shoes.
“You’re right,” the princess said sadly. “But maybe we can ask someone with magic to make the shoes bigger?”
“Wait! My papa knows where to buy these shoes but bigger for you! And then we can match more!”
You and Max watch the whole interaction with smiles on your faces. It was too cute.
“You know, Ophelia asked me when are is she going to have a baby brother because she’s our princess and now we need a prince.” Max told you.
“And what do you think?” You ask him.
“I think . . . that’s she’s right.”
“A boy. A mini you.” You kissed Max. “Just you, me and our little girl and boy, sounds like the perfect dream.”
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konigsblog · 1 day
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as my favorite könig smut writer you’re the only one i trust to do dbf!neighbor!könig x early 20s!reader with the dirtiest, sloppiest, most toe curling age gap smut 💗💗
dbf!neighbour!könig?! sign me the fuck up, i could write a whole series for that filthy man!
synopsis; your father's best friend, könig, has been struggling to get himself into a stable, loyal relationship lately. luckily for him, you offer him some sort of release.
tw/cw; age gap/difference, early 20s! reader x late forties!könig, weed use, blowjob, mutual masturbation, PinV, tell me if i missed anything. MDNI 18+ 🍃
photo credits; @ave661
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You've had the hots for your father's best friend for quite a while.
He doesn't live very far from you at all. In fact, he lives next door and visits your father pretty often to smoke together and talk about whatever is bothering him, which usually includes topics like König's failed relationships and inability to hold a woman for longer than a week.
Aside from wanting to rant about his horrible, fucked-up love life and to smoke weed with your old man, he wants to see you as well—maybe even more than speak with your father.
When your father is busy doing something else, like washing the dishes or cleaning his car outside, König will excuse himself to the bathroom and will sneak into your bedroom to admire the place. You have plans to move out soon, but currently, you stay with your father inside of your childhood home. König's hand "mysteriously" sneaks into your clothing hamper and begins looking for a pair of panties.
It's alright, you won't notice surely...
And you can't deny your attraction to him. The sound of his familiar, accented voice leaves your knees weak and your panties damp and soaked with the thoughts running through your dirty mind at the moment. You smile at König and talk to him about your plans for college, watching as his eyes flicker from your chest to your eyes, your nipples turning into little stiff buds at the cold breeze in the living room.
Today was like any other saturday; your father was away down the road for some beers with his other friends in the afternoon while König had just arrived home from another fucked-up date, ending like the rest of his dates have. He looks dishevelled and in dire need of some sort of release. He's visibly and clearly pent up and exhausted, rolling himself a joint to relax, leaning against his porch and closing his eyes tightly. He's deep in thought and doesn't realise that you've sneaked up on him, practically jumping out of his skin at your sudden presence.
“Shit, Mäusi— I didn’t see you there... What’s wrong, dear?” He smiles forcefully. He doesn't want to bother you with his shitty life since you're probably all worked up from college and stressed out, but you insist that he tells you what's bothering him. It doesn't take a lot of convincing since it's hard to deny you, especially when you say that you can help him if he explains.
He invites you inside and offers you a joint, in which you gratefully accept and seat yourself beside him, ready to act as a therapist for him.
“Another fucked date with another woman who seems interested in me, but actually isn’t. It seems like I can’t please any women.” He admits through gritted teeth. At the sight of his frustration, you place your hand on his thigh teasingly. “Do you think there is anything I can do to help?” You ask quietly with a mischievous and playful smile plastered on your face. Your voice is seductive and sultry, eyes half-lidded and lustful. God, You really are a tease, huh?
“And what are you hinting at, Liebling?”
König always thought he'd be the one to initiate, but right now, he was struggling to keep his composure and quickly found himself falling for your acts of seduction. You lowered yourself onto your knees and began to unzip his jeans, cocking your head to the side at the sight of his aching cock springing out in your face. You giggled while König pulled his large hands into fists, throwing his head back at the wet sensation of your lips wrapped around his swollen, weeping cock. He'd been dreaming of this moment for months, Liebe.
The things you do to König fucked-up head, Good Lord. He couldn't help the sounds of pleasure running through his lips, his dick painful at your tight grip and pleasure.
His sounds came out pained and guttural, pleased but so on edge and anxious of what your father would think about him after being so touchy-feely with his best friend's daughter. He curses himself out for agreeing to this, feeling like such a pervert despite yearning for more of your addictive, sweet touch. “Feel good?” You question him, knowing he'll get frustrated and will force your head down onto his leaking boner. He huffs and puffs, gripping your hair in a tight fist and pushes your head down with a loud moan leaving his mouth, choking on his groans and grunts.
You coat König's lengthy shaft in your spit to get him slick enough, before seating yourself onto his big lap, your hand stroking and fisting his dick. He slides his fingers into your hole with his eyes wide at the sensation and texture of your gummy walls. He chokes on his pleased sounds as you tease his tip by rolling your soft thumb over his uncut, creamy tip and feel as your folds are stuffed with his thick digits. He pumps them into your soaking cunt and admires the sticky mess left between your fingers, curling his fingers deep inside your gummy cunt.
“C’mere, Taube—Kiss me, please.” He grumbles out, getting obsessive with the pleasure you offer him. He places his lips against yours, making out with you messily and sloppy, the effects of the marijuana leaving him relaxed and at ease with all his concerns and worries forgotten about. His tongue rolls over your bottom lip while you squeeze his dick, whimpering into the sweet kiss. König's fingers begin to pump into you even faster, pulling away to beg you to sit on his cock. You're on edge and shaking pathetically, nearing your orgasm but not quite fully there.
“Sit on it, dear. Don’t be so shy, not now you can’t.” The smell of nicotine sticks to his skin, your thighs shaking as you begin to ease down onto his weeping, veiny dick. König doesn't hold back the sounds of his arousal and euphoria as it burns through his large body, bucking his broad and sturdy hips into your body while cursing you out for being such a dirty tease. You leave König totally obsessed after finally receiving some action after so long.
You bounce on his lap while he fucks his bulbous cock deep into your drooling slit. You gasp and roll your eyes to the back of your head at the ache andd pleasure between your thighs, unable to stop letting out the most perverted and pleased noises. You can feel as König hits your cervix with each thrust and his heavy balls slap against your rear as he drives his hips against your tight rear. Your eyes fill with tears at the pain and stretch, his girthy dick leaving you breathless as you admire the state he leaves your pussy in; raw and sensitive.
König can't hold himself back when you begin to lose control. Sweet, pearly droplets of your sweet arousal run down his boner and coat his length, allowing him to fuck you even harder and deeper with ease as he uses your sweet juices as lube.
“That’s it, little one—God, look how well you’re taking’ me, princess. You’re a mess, such an addictive mess, huh? You’re gonna be an obsession of mine, that’s for sure.” König grits his teeth as he bucks his hips into you even harder, his eyes shut tightly as your walls clamp down around him one last time, filled with ropes of his white creaminess. You pant and heave at the stomach bulge caused by his loads and ropes of his hot release. You grip his jaw to make out with him, your body sweaty and hot with König's cheeks flushed a rosy pink.
You have to sneak back home before your father comes back and asks what you were doing over at his best friend's house. König would be slaughtered if he found out the truth.
You just have to act all innocent, as if König's milky and potent load is oozing out of your hole and dampening your panties at the dinner table.
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nvuy · 21 hours
Note
nuvy. nuvy have you heard of the boothill leaks.
YES i did *salutes*
boothill story leaks under cut;
girl dad girl dad
soooo what about boothill falling in love with a single parent with a daughter hmm hmm
like god if he doesn’t just accidently run into the kid and she squeals over him because “hey!! cool robot man!!” and you chase her down and apologise.
he freezes, because your daughter looks so much like his did.
same hair colour, same eye colour, same energy that he could barely keep up with, just learning to walk on two feet properly and string together words to form simple sentences.
it absolutely destroys him. in the worst and best way possible. especially since your daughter practically develops an admiration for him on the spot, begs to be carried, and you’re confused because “sweetie, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”
like like.,,,, example……..
Something small and warm wraps around his hand and Boothill glances up quickly from his lap.
There was a little girl searching for his fingers, barely three years old by the looks of it. Pretty tresses of black hair flowing in the wind near the shoreline, sniffling and barely standing on short wobbly legs.
“I need help,” she hiccups, and Boothill melts on the spot. So small and helpless, like a baby bird away from its mother’s nest. “I can’t find my–”
And of course, he stands up, dusts off his pants, and offers her his hand. He guides her away from the beach back towards the market where crowds of people swarm the stalls.
It’s nighttime, cold, and definitely no place for a little girl to be by herself.
“What’s your parents look like, princess?”
He busies himself searching for any targets that would make sense given the girl’s prattling of your appearance down to the colour of your shoes—“White. Like mine.” Hers light up purple with each step she takes—too many faces, too many people.
He stands to give up when he hears somebody frantically running around like a lunatic to every single store, asking if they’ve seen a little girl with light up sneakers wandering about.
“Calm down. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he heard one of the assistants try.
Another shopkeeper offers a pitiful frown and shakes their head.
Boothill nudges the girl, squeezing her small hand in his, careful of his strength around fragile bones. “Is that them?”
She quickly wipes the tears from her face. She then nods and takes off into a sprint to lunge at you, still sobbing when she wraps her arms around your leg.
You sigh in relief and scoop her up into your arms.
Boothill then has an entire conundrum in the middle of the market square. For one, your daughter is waving him over with a smile on her face. Two, you looked like you were about two seconds away from passing out in shock. Your clothes are askew, hair a mess, face flushed and yet simultaneously drained of blood.
He steps closer anyway, though hesitantly. He can’t say no to the little thing whose grin has now grown double the size of her face.
“This is the man that helped me,” she explained softly to you, pointing at him with a small finger.
You scanned him over.
For a moment, he thought you were going to turn around and book it in the other direction. A random ‘robot man’ in the centre of the town square was probably the least most inviting thing he could’ve been. Not to mention he had been sitting at the docks for so long staring out into the water he knew his hair had been tossed wildly from the wind.
Not that you appeared anymore put together.
Instead, you grab his face with a free hand and kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely.
He almost damn near blue screens. The words ‘anything for you’ fight to come forth out of his throat.
Instead, he lets out a garbled noise before he clears his throat. “Of course. Couldn’t let the little princess run too far.” He teased your daughter with a tap to her nose.
She grabs his finger and presses the pads of her own across the metal rivets and joints like she’s studying them curiously.
Your daughter stared up at you with giant puppy eyes, still holding his hand. “Can we keep him?”
It was your turn to make a weird noise, spluttering with your face heating up. “You can’t keep people.”
All the while, Boothill was staring at you as you chastised her with hot cheeks.
No spouse by the looks of it—nor had the little princess mentioned somebody else. He knew kids liked to ramble on about their parents.
Well, his daughter did. Something cold and metallic turned in his stomach. She used to think her dad was a hero.
He wondered if she still would.
No ring on your finger. Adoration was such a gentle expression on your face, and the way you held her so firmly, yet so delicately, said it all.
Oh, if he wasn’t completely head over heels from the very beginning.
the angst potential. The angst potential. Theeee angst potential. i’m gritting my teeth.
i’m going insan e
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xxchumanixx · 3 days
Text
Uno pt. 1
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Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: You're teaching Bucky how to play Uno, but it takes a different turn than expected.
Warnings/Tags: fluff, Bucky being sweet and caring, make out session
Word count: tba
Authors note: Hello my loves! The idea for this came when I looked at my brand new The Mandalorian Uno, as I was watching Falcon and The Winter Soldier for the second time in two days (whupsi).
I'm definitely going to make a part two, we can't let naked action with Bucky slide, can we?
Enjoy!
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It had been a while since you and Bucky started having game nights, playing cards and board games, whilst casually chatting.
Since working with Sam, Bucky was more relaxed, spending more time with you, after he started to work on himself.
You couldn't deny that your weekly game night was the highlight of your week, his presence enough to soothe everything that occurred over the days in between.
Of course, your ever growing feelings for him had a say in the matter, too.
"Let's play Uno!" you suggested, holding up the red box in your hand for him to see, when you returned from the drawer that held all the games you owned.
He cocked a brow, the bottle in his hand stopping mid-air, before he sat it back down.
"What's Uno?" he wanted to know, brows furrowing. "It's a card game." you replied, sitting back down in the chair to his right, placing the box on the table in front of you. "Don't worry, I'll teach you how to play."
"Never heard of it." he mumbled, fingers tracing over the letters on the front of the box. "Well, it's old, but not as old as you." you told him, smirking.
He scoffed at your words, playfully rolling his eyes. "I'm 106." he retorted, leaning forward with his arms crossed on the table. "And the game is 55." you retorted, cocking a brow at him with a grin on your lips.
"So you're almost twice as old."
He leaned back in the chair again, shaking his head in amusement, as he sipped his beer.
"Don't worry, you don't look like 106, though." you assured him with a wink, the alcohol loosening your tongue and nerves a bit.
He definitely didn't look like 106, more like so smoking hot you're gonna burn yourself.
He chuckled, wiggling his brows once, heart fluttering in your chest.
Taking the cards out of the box you pushed it aside, gathering the cards in your hands to shuffle them.
They were slightly curved and wrinkled from all the previous games played with them.
"First, you shuffle." you told him, starting to shuffle the cards. He huffed, eyes closely watching you, though.
"Never would have guessed."
Rolling your eyes, you tried to concentrate only on the shuffling, some of the cards spilling, though. His intense gaze made your hands tremble, nerves spilling over.
"Let me." he spoke up, carefully taking the cards from your hands, gathering the spilled ones. Shivers ran down your spine at his touch.
"My hand still hurts, I guess that's why I can't shuffle them as good, you know." you tried to cover it up, hinting at the accident you had when you tried to clean your windows this morning, falling from the small ladder, your hand partly taking the brunt.
It didn't hurt anymore, still you used it as a cover, as it came in handy in that moment.
He simply hummed, starting to shuffle the cards. He didn't want to think about what might have happened, if the ladder had been higher.
It took him a second to get back into it, but when he did, you couldn't help but stare. His hands expertly shuffled the cards, moving so swiftly, you thought he was playing some trick on you.
Though his fingers did a whole another trick on you, goosebumps covering your bare arms.
Swallowing, you tried not to think about what his hands could possibly do, too much.
Clearing your throat, you tore your gaze away.
"Everyone gets seven cards, dealt face down." you continued to explain, waiting for him to deal the cards. "The rest of the cards is placed in a draw pile face down."
He nodded, placing the pile in the middle of the table.
"Then you take the card on top, turn it around and place it beside the pile. This way you know which card to play."
He did what he was told, frowning at the sign on the card.
"Oh." you made, huffing. "Well, this card means that the next player has to skip their turn. Which means that, seeing as I'd be the one to start, I have to skip and you begin."
You gathered the cards he had dealt in your hands, trying not to show any signs of what cards you had on your face.
"I recommend to sort them, so you'll find matching ones more easily." you told him, doing exactly that. "You have four colors: red, blue, yellow and green. They all go from one to nine. When, for example, a yellow eight is on top of the discard pile, you can either play a yellow card with any number, or an eight of any color."
He hummed, sorting his cards as well, frowning at ones he couldn't place yet, showing you that he had at least one action card.
"There are action cards, too." you continued, arms resting on the table, as you looked at him again. "There's the skip card, a reverse card with two arrows, indicating that you switch from clockwise to counterclockwise or vice versa, a draw two card in any color, which means you have to draw two cards if you can't stack it with one of your own draw two card, a wild card that can be placed on any other number card, and let's you pick a color, and the wild draw four, which is the same, but the person following has to draw four in addition."
He sighed, overwhelmed.
You sent him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it, old man."
He sent you a pointed look, causing your smile to grow wider. He soon cracked a small smile of his own, though, not able to resist you, with a shake of his head.
Motioning for him to begin, you took a sip of your beer.
He thought for a moment, before he placed a blue one on top of the blue skip card. Humming, you placed a blue seven.
He frowned, sifting through his cards, coming up empty. "I guess I'll have to draw one when I can't play?" he spoke, eyes meeting yours in question.
You nodded, watching as he drew a card.
"Can't." he said, lips pursed. "Then it's my turn again." you returned, playing a red seven. "If you draw one but still can't play, your turn's over. There's a rule that says to draw until you can, but no one really uses that rule."
He nodded, scratching his chin, before playing a red draw two card.
Huffing, you shook your head, drawing two cards. He smirked your way, his dimples deepening.
"Your turn." you told him, after sorting your cards. "Don't you play after drawing the cards?" he asked, confused. Shaking your head, you denied with a smile. "No, the original rules say you don't. Even though most of the time we bend the rules a bit."
He chuckled, placing a red eight.
The game went on for a bit, him having to draw four, taking revenge with a duel of draw two cards, you ending up with six new cards on your hands.
"Oh, I forgot to mention that you have to say Uno! before you play your second to last card." you told him, just as he was about to play said card.
He frowned, but did as he was told, saying Uno!, before he played it.
You didn't have anything to let him draw cards, so when you played a green nine, he topped it with a red one.
Eyes wide, he cheered, grinning at you like a little boy who just received the greatest gift for Christmas.
Chuckling, you collected the cards, sorting them for him to shuffle again.
The game went on for a few rounds, him winning and losing, eager for more.
"I have a suggestion." you spoke up, watching as he shuffled the cards for the fifth time. He hummed, waiting for you to continue. "What about a drinking game?"
He cocked a brow, dealing the cards. "How does it work?"
Clearing your throat, you held up a finger, before getting up to gather two more beers.
When you returned, he had his cards already sorted, patiently waiting for you.
"So, when you are skipped, you have to drink one. When you have to draw cards, you drink the amount of cards you have to draw." you explained, handing him one of the bottles. "Means, if I have to draw four, I drink four as well."
He nodded, opening his bottle and handing it back to you, exchanging it for your unopened one, before he opened it as well.
The thoughtfulness of his actions had you smile to yourself, chest warming.
He was always somehow looking out for you, no matter how small the gesture.
It was one of the aspects that had you falling for him so hard.
You started the round, drinking and laughing.
When he played a draw two card mid-game, you topped it with one of your own, not expecting him to have another one on hand - and especially not to have a third, when you countered it, too.
Mouth agape, you stared at the pile in disbelieve, before your eyes went to his. He sent you a wink, smirking as he slightly leaned forward.
"Drink up, doll."
Swallowing, you did as you were told, drinking ten. Sighing, you drew ten cards afterwards, shaking your head in amusement.
His blue eyes were sparkling, sending shivers down your spine.
As the game continued on, he specified that the loser had to empty his bottle, no matter how much was left inside.
He was the first to do so.
An hour later you were into your sixth bottle, feeling good. The air was getting hotter, though it could have just been Bucky's presence.
Shouting in triumph, you played your last card, winning the current round. He shook his head with a grin, placing down his cards.
Only then did you notice how close he'd gotten during the rounds, legs brushing under the table.
"Drink!" you demanded breathlessly, grinning up at him. His eyes twinkled mischievously, head slightly tilted.
"What if I do this instead?" he asked, voice lowered to almost a whisper, as he leaned closer, breath fanning over your face. Your heart pounded violently in your chest, hands trembling, as your eyes flitted to his lips, when everything suddenly seemed to happen in slow-motion.
His nose brushed yours, as your eyes fluttered closed, before his lips met yours.
They were so soft, not rough.
Soft and sweet.
Your chair scraped over the floor, as he pulled it more towards him, so the table wasn't in the way anymore, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him closer.
His hands found your waist, pulling, until you were seated on his lap.
His tongue brushed over your lower lip and you let it in, sighing softly at the sensation. His flesh hand brushed over your back, slipping under your shirt.
Sparks elicited on your skin, wherever his fingers reached.
When you parted, you panted for air, eyes locked with his blue ones. His metal fingers came up to your face, brushing away a few strands of hair, before it cupped your cheek.
Swallowing, you moved on his lap the slightest bit, and he groaned, eyes fluttering closed for a second. His erection was straining his jeans, right between your legs.
Smirking, you did it again, only for his flesh hand to find your waist, stopping you.
"If you keep doing that, I won't be able to stop." he warned, breathing shakily, as his eyes met yours again.
"What if I don't want you to stop?" you whispered back.
Something rumbled deep in his chest, as his hand tightened its grip, moving you over his erection again.
You whimpered, mouth agape. His pupils were blown wide, eyes shining with lust and desire.
But there was something else, too: deep affection.
"Then I won't." he promised, lips attaching back to yours in a searing kiss. Licking into your mouth, his tongue fought with yours, his flesh hand descending, until it gripped your ass, pulling you flush against him.
You moaned into the kiss, not able to contain it, and he smirked against your lips.
"We should play Uno more often."
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269 notes · View notes
yuebinnie · 2 days
Text
Proverbs 5:19
☾ Pairing : Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x f!reader
☆ Warnings : mdni. Priest!Alastor, implied chubby!reader, noncanon Alastor, dubcon, coercion, blasphemy, abuse of authority, blood kink, blood drinking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering (f receiving), cunnulingus, catholic prayers used in a sexual context, scriptures used to coerce, cum eating, size kink, loss of virginity (implied, not talked about), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie
☾ WC : 9.8k
☆ A/N : Taking a break from Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea to write Alastor smut ^^ This contains heavy Christian imagery, so if it's something you are uncomfortable with, this fic might not be for you! I really enjoyed writing this; it's my first time writing smut for Alastor, so hopefully I do not disappoint you all. I also posted the fic on AO3, if you'd prefer reading there. Have fun!
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There was something about going to church that felt incredibly soothing. The deafening silence every time you walked in during the early hours of the day, steps echoing against the painted ceiling and colourful rose window, the shadows dancing behind the burning wicks of the candles set on each side of the main aisle, the smell of dust dancing in the air like a reminder of how desolate the people who came to visit truly were. You had not always been religious, but you had found peace in believing that there was a divine truth, that being good in this life would give you eternal bliss.
The church was a small one, and an old one; how it was still standing you had no idea. It was annexed to a small decrepit churchyard with moss-covered headstones that dated from at least two centuries ago. To any passersby, it'd be believed to be abandoned, as the outside of the building was quite literally falling apart, the bricks slowly eroding and the tiles covering the roof covered with the same moss as the headstones. The exterior appearance did not matter however, only the inside did; that's where God resided after all.
Despite its age, the inside and of the church was well kept. Yes, the rose window was cracked, and, as an attempt to keep the place as pure as possible, electricity had never been installed. The candles did the job of keeping the inside lit, and as for the temperature, well, dressing warmly was mandatory during the colder months of the year. The benches were old and the varnish that had once covered them was long gone; dents and chips could be found here and there, but they were still sturdy. The altar was small and simple, a wooden thing settled on a small stage that hovered only a few inches above the floor. Near the entrance sat a confessional which reeked of mould, but in the absolute presence of God, the smell was easily forgotten.
You had a habit of going to pray most days when you were not bedridden from the exhaustion of spending the night reading your favourite verses. 5 AM; the perfect time to pray, just as the world welcomed the sun's warmth and light. Very rarely did you meet anyone else; it had happened a few times, mostly old people nearing death coming to ask for absolution for their sins. Otherwise, the only person you had seen was the priest, whom you only had spoken to once or twice. He would look at you while you kneeled and mumbled prayers and verses, a smile plastered on his face.
It was the only downside of it all, that unsettling presence. The priest, a handsome man you had apologized to God for finding attractive, was always smiling. It was a bone-chilling sight; it made you feel as though he could see right through you, like he had access to every single thought that cluttered the inside of your mind. He had asked for your name once and had told you to have a 'delightful rest of the day'. That day had turned out to be horrible, as you had learned your grandmother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and only had a few months left. You had prayed for her, but God had decided to take her, nonetheless. Your subconscious had linked the priest's words as a direct cause of your grandmother's tragic diagnosis, and you had tried your best to avoid talking to him ever since.
When you woke up that morning, sweaty and feeling stickiness between your thighs, you felt sick to your stomach remembering the dreams that had plagued your mind in your slumber. A faceless man, dragging his lips down your stomach, his fingers touching your body in a way that was so sinful; the only logical explanation was that you had been visited by an incubus, an agent of evil. God was testing you, letting evil reach you to see if you'd be as faithful as Job or if you'd succumb to sin like Eve had. You cleaned yourself and changed your nightgown to proper clothes, putting a slightly warm coat on before leaving your house.
The sun had not yet started to show itself, and a thick fog floated above the quiet streets. The sky was covered with grey clouds that seemed to hang low, you wondered if you could touch them if you reached up, but your mind was too preoccupied with your predicament to try and touch something so close to Heaven. Mind running faster than a hare trying to escape a wolf, you tried to convince yourself simple prayers would do, but a loud voice kept coming back, telling you this could only be forgiven by confessing. The thought of having to talk to the priest whom you had convinced yourself was the catalyst of your grandmother's death made you want to cry, but the thought of failing God and disappointing Him was far more upsetting. You reached the church as the first rays of light made the dew covering the Earth glisten, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Your eyes fell upon the priest, who was bent down in the middle of the aisle, a long match in his hand as he lit the candles up. You froze, your eyes running across his shoulders and back. The door closed loudly behind you, and you jumped; the man's head snapped in your direction, his smile growing when he saw who had just walked in.
"You are quite early today, my dear," the priest stated simply, his focus going back to the unlit candles that still begged to melt under the burning flames. "Luckily enough, our Creator does not sleep; we're under scrutiny every second of our time on this earth."
You gulped at the words, the implications they held. You crept closer to the man, fidgeting as you thought of what to say. You let out a small quiet sigh, biting down your bottom lip as you stopped and stood a few feet away from him. The man straightened up and turned in your direction, his head tilted to the left as his gaze travelled across your face, "Oh my, whatever has you this upset?"
Your cheeks flushed as your eyes shifted from his eyes to the floor, the shame of what you had yet to confess weighing down your shoulders like the cross your Saviour had carried through heat and pain. You felt tiny, the priest towering over you; he had to be close to two feet taller than you. Had this been how Lucifer felt when he was at last pushed to meet his fate in the depths, a force greater than all administrating the final judgment? Sinfully powerless, a mere weak being? Tears gathered at your lower lash lines as you spoke, oh so quietly, your voice like the echo of an echo, "Father, I have sinned."
Seconds passed, silent ones, before the man hummed and walked past you, making his way to the front of the church. You twirled around, your eyes landing on where the priest now stood, in front of the old rotting confessional. You gulped, nodding to no one in particular before slowly making your way to the man who was stepping into the booth, the door closing behind him. You did the same, slowly closing the door after giving the empty church one last look, your eyes lingering a few seconds on the nailed Christ resting behind the altar, seemingly judging you.
You sat down, cringing at the creaking of the wood beneath your weight. The grille was pulled up, the silhouette of the man on the other side vaguely distinguishable. You took a deep breath, then spoke softly as you brought your right hand to your forehead, the gesture almost instinctual, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." You put your hand on your thigh, staring at the unmoving priest, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is.... too much time, since my last confession. I am a university student, in my last year to obtain a bachelor's degree." A low hum was heard, and you shifted in your seat, trying to find the exact words for your confession.
"Father, something terrible happened last night. In my weakened sleeping state, evil befell me. I was plagued with sinful dreams. You must understand, I am thoroughly devoted to Christ and our Lord, never have I let a man, or anyone, disgrace the body I was given; never have I had thoughts or dreams of this kind. I fear my will is not strong enough, that this evil shall come back and torment me. I fear I will fall into sin, just as our first predecessors did. I am nothing but willing, Father, so please, do help me. I am sorry for all these sins, and the sins of my past life."
You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had fallen down your rosy cheeks, your eyes glued on the silhouette of the man beyond the grille. His silence made you want to cry even more; were you a lost case? Had your fate already been sealed, your soul now tainted because of the touch of evil in such sacred places? You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited, seconds becoming minutes.
"This evil you speak of, what exactly has it done to you?" His voice seemed to have dropped lower, the sound a bit raspier. You furrowed your brow slightly at the question; you had been clear about the incident. As if feeling your hesitation, the priest continued, "Ma chère, only by knowing exactly what this evil put you through can I give you absolution."
You felt a blush creep up your neck, and flinched as the crack of thunder was heard beyond the church walls; your heartbeat quickened, was this Him telling you to obey?
You let out a small breath, before speaking up, the words shaky, "As I slept, this evil... Entered my dreams. It took advantage of my defenselessness. It disgraced my soul and my body. Upon waking up, there was... Remains of the sinful things it had my body do." You could feel the man's stare on you despite the grille separating you, causing yours to drop to your knees, feeling vulnerable.
"What sinful things did it inflict upon you?" Rain had started falling, as if the sky itself cried for you; the sound of it hammered against the roof, a continuous wail of grief for your poor soul.
"Father, I don't understand how this is necessa-"
"Do you not want absolution? Do you desire to be locked out of His kingdom? The choice is yours," his tone was harsher, demanding, even. You gulped and shook your head; no, that was not what you wanted. It was the furthest thing from it.
"I apologize for questioning your words, Father," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your coat, "From what I can remember... This evil took the shape of a man. A faceless man. I was in bed, and it joined me, and... We, uh, we kissed. It took my nightgown off." Your hands felt clammy, and you couldn't help but press your thighs together as you recollected the events of your dreams. "It kissed my breasts, then my stomach. It went... Down there, and stayed there until my whole body tensed up. Afterwards, it pushed itself inside me, it thoroughly disgraced my body. When I woke up, my body showed signs that it had reacted to the defiling. Father, please, believe me when I tell you that I was coerced by evil."
Thunder was heard again, breaking the silence that had settled between you and the priest. As the minutes passed, you became uneasy; was the man disgusted with you? Could he sense the sins radiating from your being? He cleared his throat, breaking your train of thought. Your eyes went back to his silhouette, waiting for him to speak up.
"I fear this is beyond the power bestowed upon me, dear," his voice was silky, it made warmth spread inside your chest, as if the vibrations it had created affected your very cells.
Your eyes widened; that was impossible. You had confessed and explained the evil that had haunted you. You had done exactly what He told His followers to do, confessed and asked for forgiveness. You shuffled closer to the grille, tearing up as you begged, "Father, please, there must be a way. I will do anything; I will suffer just like our Saviour has if it's what it takes. I'm supplying you, help me get rid of this evil."
“Very well,” the man said. You watched as his silhouette stood up and opened the door of the booth before it disappeared. The door of your little chamber opened, and you turned your head to look at the tall priest, who adjusted his glasses as he stared down at you. You took a few seconds to really look at him. Despite his smile that made shivers run down your spine, the man was handsome. His skin was tan, his hair dark and styled in an old-fashioned way. His features were sharp, intimidating, almost. Towering over you, his shoulders were wider than some quarterbacks’, and his waist was ridiculously small compared to them. His hands seemed to be twice the size of yours, and you found yourself wondering how he managed to button up his shirts with such big hands.
You looked back at his face as you blushed, realizing the man before you knew of your body in such intimate ways. You slowly stood up as you held his gaze, unsure of what to say next. He took a step aside and gestured for you to step out of the confessional, before closing the door behind you. The priest smiled down at you, “Follow me, dear.”
He started walking down the aisle, the flames of the candles on each side of it dancing as he passed by. You hesitantly followed him, looking out one of the small windows to see the rain pouring onto the world as lightning illuminated the sky. He stopped at the altar and turned to you, his smile ever present. You stopped in front of the stage; sinners did not belong anywhere close to that sacred place. The man stayed silent and with a gesture of his hand, permitted you to step up. You gulped and got on the stage, feeling extremely out of place.
“There is one way for you to repent,” he began, his stare fixed on you, “Though it is a bit unorthodox. The choice is yours, but you must remember that there is no place for sinners in Heaven.” He watched as you nodded quickly; you were eager to be forgiven, to go back to being free of sin. The corner of his lips twitched before he uttered one word, “Strip.”
Your eyes widened as your face turned a deeper shade of crimson. Stripping? You searched his face for hints of dishonesty, hoping he was playing a sick joke on you, but to your dismay, he was serious. Your body was frozen as you looked at him, not even the booming thunder making you flinch.
You opened your mouth to ask why, but the man beat you to it, answering your question before you even uttered a word, “Only by showing Him precisely how this evil tainted you can you be absolved. There is no need to be shy, ma chérie; isn’t He all-knowing? All-seeing? Wasn’t the shame of nudity created by His first creations’ sin? There is no purer form of devotion than to go beyond the embarrassment and bare yourself to Him; than to accept the vulnerable nature of your existence.”
He brought his right hand up to lay it flat against the wooden altar, observing you as you fought an inner battle with your dignity. His words were true, the wisdom of a man devoted to God, of someone who knew scriptures and their meaning. As if feeling your unmoving incertitude, he spoke up once again, “Proverbs 28:13.”
You blinked up at him, mind searching for the verse you had read many times before. You licked your bottom lip with your tongue before reciting softly, “He who covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.” The priest hummed, and you raised your gaze to the crucifix hung on the wall behind the altar, feeling as if He was patiently waiting for you to submit to His will. You puffed out a small breath as you nodded to yourself, a hand coming up to the zipper of your coat, slowly bringing it down to then shrug off the piece of clothing and letting it fall on the floor.
You could already feel the wet cold seep through your thin sweater, but you ignored the feeling as you grabbed the bottom of it and lifted it up until it was completely off you; it dropped, finding its place next to your coat at your feet. Your eyes were unfocused, staring into thin air as you slipped your thumbs under the elastic band of your skirt, pushing it down so it pooled at your ankles. You stepped out of it, getting slightly closer to the priest whose gaze was burning your skin despite the goosebumps covering it. You brought a hand to your back, unclasping your bra before slowly taking it off, baring your breasts to the man. Your nipples hardened as the freezing air licked them and you bit hard down your bottom lip as you slid your underwear down your legs, then stepped out of your shoes, leaving you only wearing your lace-arbored anklets.
The man lifted a hand in your direction, a silent request for you to grab it. You did so all while avoiding looking up at him and followed him as he made his way behind the altar, his fingers squeezing yours slightly, “Our Lord blessed you with rare beauty, dear one, what a shame it led evil to you.” You gasped softly as his other hand wrapped around your waist, your eyes shooting up to look at him. He was still smiling, though his eyes seemed clouded with something you could not put your finger on.
He let go of your hand and grabbed the other side of your waist before effortlessly hoisting you up on the altar, the skin of your ass stinging from the cold of the wooden surface. Your gaze was questioning, and the man recited, his voice low and quieter than it had previously been, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” You gaped at him; a true man of God, that’s what he was. “Offer your body to Him, and you shall be absolved. Show Him what evil has done to you, so He can forgive and make you pure again,” he held your stare, his pupils slightly dilated. You nodded once, and the priest stepped aside, leaving you to face your Saviour in your naked glory.
You slowly leaned back, using your left elbow to not completely lie down on the wood. You brought your trembling right hand to your lips, the tip of your index finger stroking the pink flesh as you recalled where the lips of the faceless man had touched you. They lingered there for a few seconds before dipping to your neck, dancing around the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut; if goosebumps had not already been covering your body fault of the moist cold, they would have appeared, the feeling titillating. Your chest rose and fell in a timely rhythm as you dragged your touch to your breasts where your finger gently caressed your right nipple. Your lips parted, small breaths making their way out as you gathered with your small hand the heavy fat of your breast, squeezing. You could feel the stare of the priest on you, but you attempted to ignore it as you kept going.
Your fingers went down your stomach, using your nails to slightly scratch the skin, and they stopped a few inches below your belly button. You opened your eyes and looked at the crucifix; His peaceful expression, despite being nailed and in pain, gave you courage and you spread your legs, giving your Saviour the perfect view of your most intimate era. You nibbled on your bottom lip as you slowly brought your fingers down, choking on a soft moan when they made contact with your clit. The simple touch made your composure fall a little, your lips parted as your face reddened, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt before. You gently pushed against the bundle of nerves, gasping as your fingers started to move, following a small eight-pattern.
You could feel your heartbeat thundering against your ribcage, matching the loud striking of the heavenly fire against the earth beyond the safety of the church walls. Soft pants left your mouth as you started working on yourself, closing your eyes to focus on the memories of the previous night. Every touch and stroke were vividly drawn in your mind, your fingers moving in an almost instinctual way, leaving you a whimpering mess. You moved your elbow that was holding your weight, slowly leaning your back against the cold wood, before bringing the now free hand to your face, covering your mouth with it as your thighs trembled. Your body was thrumming, humming with new sensations, your mind as foggy as the early morning that had welcomed you when you had stepped out of your home.
Lost in pleasure, you jumped, your eyes shooting open as you felt long fingers wrap around your wrist, the priest looking down at you, his own eyes sharper and darker than they had been earlier. Your fingers nestled between your thighs stopped moving as you stared at him, but he tsked, “My dear, you must not hide anything from Him. These lovely, sinful sounds you make, are not to be repressed. Let them be; let Him hear what evil inflicted upon you,” his voice sent a chill down your spine, your back arching slightly. You watched as the corner of his lips twitched and let him pull your hand away from your mouth, gulping as you nodded weakly. “Good girl.”
Your breath hitched at the praise, eyes not leaving his’ as your fingers started to move once again, bringing your legs up to rest your heels against the altar, spreading your legs a bit more. As if in a trance, your gaze fixed on the priest as you moaned and gasped, your hips twitching as you rubbed your clit. You saw his Adam’s apple bob, his eyes narrowing as you used your free hand to caress the skin of your stomach, slowly inching towards your left breast. Your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, and with a bite on your bottom lip and a pinch of your nipple, you pushed your middle finger all the way to the second knuckle, your eyes widening at the feeling. You let out a throaty whine, pressing your head harder against the wooden surface that supported your weight. The cold was long forgotten, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, muscles spasming here and there.
You slid your other hand between your thighs, the digits quickly finding your clit and gently stimulating it as you managed to push your finger further inside yourself. The faceless man from your dreams had used three fingers, and you could only wonder how your dream self had taken them, as you were struggling with a lonely, short finger. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, you bit down your lip and pushed your index alongside the finger that was already pressed inside you. Your face scrunched up at the stretch, a silent sob echoing through the dimly lit space. You felt your walls clench around your digits, your free hand still working on your clit as a way to make the dull ache more bearable. You waited a minute, giving your body time to adjust to the feeling, before carefully pulling the fingers out and thrusting them back in, a surprised whimper leaving your lips as a new feeling started to blossom in your lower stomach.
You arched your back and started speeding up the motion of your hands, unable to keep quiet as your body grew warmer and more tense. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at the priest, who was as still as Christ watching you from His cross on the wall. As you exhaled, you pushed a third finger in, welcoming the stretch with a high-pitched whine. Your knees dropped down onto the altar, leaving your womanhood fully exposed; you watched as the man glanced at where your hands were working in tandem to replicate almost exactly what the evil from your dream had done to you. You gathered the little concentration you had left and started muttering through gasps and moans, “Compassionate Father, you are the Lord who rescues His people. When I am overwhelmed with shame, help me find solace in you. You have said that you will help—though my sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they shall be like wool. Remind me that I have been purified by you, that the curse of sin and evil is no longer upon me. In your powerful name, Ame-” You were cut off by a large hand wrapping around your lower face, the feeling making your body jolt.
Right, it had to be the same as the dream; you had not uttered a prayer in it, far from it. You closed your eyes, moaning against the palm covering your mouth, as you focused on the growing tension in your core. Every second felt like minutes and every minute felt like hours as you quickly thrust your fingers in and out, all while you rubbed and nudged your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable, your whole body twitching as your hips tried to follow the movements of your digits as if they had a mind of their own. The priest moved his hand away, and you opened your eyes to watch him bring it to his mouth where he licked his palm, which was covered with your drool.
Something snapped inside of you and a loud sob made its way out of your throat as your muscles tensed up, your walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you stilled them, your mind unable to think about anything beyond the blinding pleasure that took over your body. Your eyes rolled back, pitiful sounds leaving your mouth as your back arched from the altar, your thighs squeezing together, trapping your hands between them. This felt so much better than it had felt in your dream. You teared up; the Lord’s love was so strong; evil could not even compare.
After a few seconds, your body relaxed, and you were left panting and sweaty, as if you had just run a marathon. Slowly opening your eyes, your vision became clearer as you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at the crucifix, then up to the priest who had not moved. You removed your hands from between your thighs and brought your left one up to wipe the pearls of sweat on your forehead with the back of it. You wrapped your right arm around your chest, trying to hide your breasts as you spoke up, your voice small but hoarse, “Have I done it, Father? Am I free of sin? Has our Lord given me absolution?” Hope lingered; you had done what you were told to do, you had been good, and your Lord was good and forgiving, He had to have seen how faithful you were.
The man’s eyebrows raised before he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly, “My dear, this was only your confession. The truest and purest form of confession.” Your smile dropped. You looked at him as he made his way closer to the wall, where he stopped in front of the crucifix that had observed you as you worked on yourself. His chin tilted up as he looked at it, before his head slowly turned to look at you, “But confession is not enough for this type of sin, sadly; you must also be cleansed.”
You sat up, your brows furrowed, watching as the man stepped closer to you. He stood in front of you, his right hand coming to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. His touch was warm and inviting, but you still wondered what his words meant, so you asked, “Cleansed?”
His thumb stroked your skin as he hummed and brought his other hand up to your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it, “Yes, dearest, cleansed. Your body was defiled by evil, it must be purified. You’ve shown our Lord and Saviour how, and now He shall reclaim your body as His’.” You looked at him, your eyes round and big, trying to make sense of the words that had just been spoken. A small pout appeared on your lips, and the tall priest bent down, his face now closer to yours as he said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, “You are so easy to read, you know? But to ease your confusion; I shall represent our Lord and make you pure again.”
You froze, the realization of what the man meant hitting you just like David’s stone had hit Goliath. You gaped at him, your mouth opening and closing, searching your brain for the right words to speak, afraid to insult God and the man who stood before you. You gulped and said after taking in a deep breath, “Our Lord… I cannot think of mentions of this procedure in the scriptures,” you blinked, your eyes shining as you looked into his’. “Father, has this procedure been tested before? Where does it come from?”
His long fingers dug into the fat of your thigh as you saw the muscle of his jaw clench, a small whimper leaving your lips at the feeling. He kept squeezing, his creepy smile growing, “Are you implying my authority was not given to me by our Lord? That my will does not stem from His’? That I would go against scriptures, something I have devoted my life to?” You shook your head quickly; you had messed up. You were to never question the words of a priest, for he was much closer to God than you were, and you had done just that. This evil needed to leave; it made you do, think and say things that would only make you unworthy of Heaven.
“Father, do forgive me! This evil, it has taken control of my body and sou-”
“There’s no need for that. I shall make your sins a purest white than Abraham’s sacrificial lamb. You will be reborn a new woman, utterly sinless,” he inched his hand higher on your thigh, “That is what you want, isn’t it? To let your God make you pure again?” You gave him a slow nod and his smile widened as he brought his free hand to his face, removing his glasses and putting them on the altar next to you. He nudged your knees open and settled between them, sliding a hand against the back of your head as he sang praise to you, “What a good girl you are, ma chère.”
His lips smashed against yours and you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to follow his lead. The hand resting on your thigh slid to your waist and forced you to get closer to him, his chest pressing against your naked breasts. You moaned into the kiss, pictures of your dream flooding your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around his tiny waist and arms around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, letting the man run his tongue along your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly in response. His kisses travelled down your chin, to your throat, his teeth nipping at your skin as you let your head fall back, giving him better access.
His mouth slid to your chest, and you lowered your chin to look down at him as he wrapped his swollen lips around your left nipple. You grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him closer to you, arching your back slightly. His eye shot up to look at you, humming against your skin, the vibration leaving you a whimpering mess. He separated from your pink, wet bud with a last lick, smiling as he flicked your other nipple with his thumb, “So eager for absolution, aren’t you?” Your soft pants were interrupted with a small gulp as you nodded once again; there was nothing you wanted more. He ran a hand up and down your thigh before grabbing it and removing it from his waist, doing the same motion with the other one a few seconds later. You silently watched as he kneeled, his face a few inches away from your exposed core. The sight made your heart skip a beat.
Something caught your eyes on the wall, and you looked up, seeing a rainbow light up the crucifix hung on the wall; the rain and thunder had dissipated as suddenly as they had appeared, and sun rays were beaming through the colourful tainted glass of the rose window at the entrance of the church. A small smile tugged at your lips, this had to be a sign you were on the right path. You bit down your bottom lip and gazed down, seeing the priest eyeing your womanhood, a hungry look on his face. Your cheeks reddened as you waited for the man to do something.
He slowly inched closer, and let his nose nudge your puffy clit, causing you to gasp softly at the feeling. You felt something warm run up and down your slit, your grip on his hair tightening as he flattened his tongue against your entrance. Your brows knitted, a small noise leaving your lips as he started to move his wet appendage up and down, moving his head slightly as he did so to get his nose to bump against your clit with each lick. His hands went to your ass, and he brought you even closer to his face; you wondered how he could even breathe.
Your mind started to wander as pleasure slowly took over your limbs; was the man between your legs mistaking you for a wine-filled chalice? The slurping noises his mouth was making against you travelled through your body and rendered you dizzy. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and his eyes shot open to look up at you as his fingers dug into the fat of your ass. His pupils were dilated to the point that you could barely see his iris and there was wetness spreading on his cheeks and nose. Lips parted, you sighed and slightly scratched his scalp with your nails, leaving the man groaning as his stare was still fixed on your face. One of his hands made its way down your thigh and disappeared from your view before it reappeared; a dainty wooden-beaded rosary was dangling from his fingers.
The priest took his mouth away from you, a wide smirk painting his lips as he grabbed your wrist and dropped the prayer beads in your much smaller palm. His other hand came forward and started stroking the skin of your inner thigh as he wrapped his long digits around yours, forcing you to hold the rosary. He licked his bottom lip before speaking up, “You know how this works, don’t you?” His smile grew as he watched you nod, “Perfect. Recite them in your head, except the Five Decades; you must recite those aloud. It’s Thursday, so Luminous Mysteries. Whatever your Lord has planned next and does to you, you must keep going, understood?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Use your words, dearest.”
“I understand, Father,” you said, your voice small.
The man hummed and let go of your hand, dropping it to your other thigh, massaging the skin there as well. His gaze dropped to where your thumb moved to make the Sign of the Cross on the small crucifix pendant. You closed your eyes as you started reciting the Apostles’ Creed, surrendering your body to the faithful man kneeling before you. His lips pressed against you as you finished the first prayer, your finger moving to the first bead. He fell into a now familiar rhythm, leaving you incapable of staying silent as you breathed out soft moans. Something prodded at your entrance and slowly slipped in as you fell back against the altar with a thud. You arched your back as it kept going, much deeper than you had reached with your fingers. It pumped in and out a few times before the man added a second finger, the pressure and stretch making you whimper.
His tongue kept alternating between sucking on and flicking your clit as you busied yourself with prayers. The priest hummed against you before removing himself; you opened your eyes and lifted your head from the wooden surface, eyes widening when you saw blood on his chin and bottom lip. He removed his fingers from you and showed them to you; they were bloody too. You stared at him silently, uncertain of what to say, but he broke the silence, “See what the evil has left in you? Aren’t you so lucky your Lord is ever so forgiving? That he’s cleaning you up to make you free of sin?” You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. His eyes were gleaming as his fingers went to your lower stomach, smearing the blood on your skin, which made goosebumps appear.
You studied his face, his sharp, dark hooded eyes were staring at you under his defined eyebrows, his plump lips were stretched in a smile; his tanned cheeks and chin were coated with a sheening coat of your wetness and blood. His hair was now messy—your doing—and his fingers were slowly making their way back to your slit. Without thinking about it, you reached out and cupped his cheek with your free hand, rubbing your thumb against his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick your digit as his fingers sank back in you, knocking the breath out of you. Your eyes closed shut as you gasped, your hand falling from his face to rest on your hip. You heard him laugh under his breath before the warmth of his mouth was back on you. Your mind reminded you of the rosary you were holding, and you started reciting the Hail Mary.
As you neared the end of the Glory Be, you felt the man add another finger, the stretch making your eyes tear up as you mewled weakly. The words of the prayer passed in your mind, disappearing as he started to thrust them in and out. Your walls clenched tightly around his digits as your chest rose and fell quickly, panting as your body tried to get adjusted to the burning feeling.
Your fingers landed on the first Decade, and you gathered all your strength to start reciting the prayer, your voice shaky, “Then Jesus came to Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented.” You were interrupted by a yelp as you felt the priest’s teeth grazing your clit, your free hand landing in his hair, gripping it. Your hips kept twitching as you kept going, stuttering through the words, “And when Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and alighting on him; and lo, a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”
The drag of the man’s fingers had turned pleasurable, and you felt your muscles tense up, the feeling in your lower stomach rapidly growing. You pushed on the back of his head, searching for more friction, and you moaned out loudly when he started mumbling against your clit as his fingers kept moving, “Oh my Jesus, forgive me of my sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.” You could not register the words but the movements of his lips on you made you come undone, your back arching from the altar as your thighs trapped his head in place, your hips lifting to follow his fingers and urge him to press his tongue harder against you. Your every muscle tensed up, crying out as the waves of your orgasm hit you just like the Red Sea had crashed into the Egyptians as He closed its parting. You spasmed around him, your walls trying to push his fingers out, and you felt wetness drip down your ass.
He separated from your clit, kissing it softly as he removed his digits from you, slowly standing up as you cracked your eyes open, your body still jolting randomly as it calmed down from your high. The light coming from the rose window had moved, and from your angle, it looked like a halo surrounding the priest’s head; a breathtaking sight that had you gape in awe. You watched as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, taking his Roman collar off and letting it fall to his feet. Your wetness was dripping from his lips which were harbouring a soft smile, his hands moving unhurriedly to unbutton his cassock. His eyes travelled up and down your spent body, then to the rosary you had forgotten you were still holding; you clenched your fingers around it and moved to a new bead, your lips moving silently as you recited the Hail Mary in your mind.
You kept your eyes on his hands as they reached the last button, the man shrugging off the black piece of clothing, revealing he was wearing a white tank top and black pants underneath it. You gulped at the true size of his shoulders; you had thought his cassock gave the illusion he was large, but even with it off, he looked huge. The smallness of his waist only accentuated how massive the built of the priest was. He had muscles but they were lean; despite it all, he looked strong and exuded a masculine aura that had you squirming in place.
Your observations were interrupted by his voice, “Do you feel like the weight of your sin has lessened, ma chère?” You dipped your chin once; you did feel lighter. The man grinned wider as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso up effortlessly so you were now sitting. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over so his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, whispering, “You did so well, dear, you’re almost as pure as the day you were born. There’s only a step left in this procedure, but it will hurt at first.” He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed forward, forcing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You inhaled and felt his fingers massage your scalp gently.
He smelled so intoxicating; a mixture of moss, rain, coffee, tobacco and a hint of something floral emitted from his skin. You realized you had pressed your lips against the man’s neck when you felt him tense up, his hand stilling in your hair. You backed away slightly, blushing so brightly you were grateful he could not see your face, muttering an apology. His body relaxed again, and he hummed, “There’s no need for apologies. Bite down my shoulder—don’t be scared to bite hard—it will make you focus on something else.”
You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but pressed your lips together when you heard a zipper, followed by the shuffling of clothes between your bodies. You brought your hands to his chest, the rosary still in your hand, fingers fidgeting with the beads as you felt one of his large and cold hands spread your thighs a little further apart. You felt his fingers run up and down your slit and you gasped at the feeling, your nails slightly digging into the muscles of his chest. A wet sound travelled up to your ears and you closed your eyes, a shiver running down your spine when you felt a hand drop to your hip, kneading the fat there, and his voice, now a low murmur, “Bite down.”
You barely had the time to process the words that you felt pressure against your entrance which ceded, your walls wrapping around something so thick you shrieked before sinking your teeth into the man’s shoulder. It felt like you were being split in half; the thickness slowly forced its way inside you as tears gathered at your lower lash lines before they dripped down your cheeks. You bit down harder and pulled away quickly when you felt iron-tasting warmth coat the inside of your mouth, but the hand still in your hair pushed you against the bleeding bite mark, the priest almost growling, “Bite, and drink. At this moment, I am God; I am Christ. His blood is mine, and my blood is His’. Savour, dear one, and let me cleanse you inside out.” You let out a shaky breath before sinking your teeth back in his flesh, your brows knitting as he pushed his length an inch deeper inside you, “So obedient.”
You let the blood fill your mouth and swallowed, cringing at the taste but unwilling to go against Heavenly orders. Your arms snaked around his waist as he kept slowly pushing himself into you. The pain was unbearable, but your mind went to Christ, and how much he had suffered for the sins of all; the ache between your legs was a pinch compared to what he had endured, so you toughened up and let your tongue lap at the blood. Your brain felt foggy, and you could only take it as a sign that it was your body reacting to being filled with the divine energy pouring out from the priest. His length reached deeper than his fingers had, and you wondered how much of it you had left to take in.
You soon had your answer, the man stilling as his pelvis pressed against yours; he was so deep in you, stretching you so wide. Your mouth detached from his neck, and you pressed your forehead against his skin, panting loudly as you tried your best to relax your walls around him. The hand that was in your hair made its way to your waist, squeezing gently as you felt his lips press against your ear once again, “Your Lord is so pleased with you; you’re taking his cock so well. You’ll be redeemed in no time.” He slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, before thrusting in you at a medium speed, leaving you sobbing against his neck. It was overwhelming, the feeling of his length rubbing your inside and the warmth spreading in your chest, God’s love making you burn up. The feeling started to transform from pain to pleasurable pressure, your pained cries turning into needy moans.
You had managed to reach the tenth Hail Mary in your mind, your fingers reaching the second Decade. You whimpered out the beginning of the Second Luminous Mystery, “On the third day there was a marriage at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; Jesus also was invited to the marriage, with his disciples.” The priest started moving faster, his hips meeting yours at a much quicker speed; you whined as his tip hit a certain spot inside you, the rosary dropping on the floor as you dug your nails into the man’s shoulder blades. You could not concentrate on anything other than the drag of his length against your walls, panting and gasping each time he bottomed out.
He slightly pulled away from your body and looked down at you, his hips still moving as he brought a hand to grab your jaw from under, forcing you to look at him. He eyed you before crashing his lips against yours, moaning as he tasted his blood in your mouth. You slid your hands up to his hair, tugging at it and scratching his scalp as your teeth clashed together, tongues dancing. You pressed your chest closer to his’ and sighed as your nipples rubbed against his tank top, the feeling sending electric shocks to your core. You parted away from his lips, catching your breath, and your eyes opened and landed on the crucifix watching you; you smiled softly—oh how good was His clemency. Your gaze went back to the priest who was slightly panting, his lower face covered in blood—just like yours— as he smirked at you, sliding his hand to your cheek, stroking the skin tenderly.
In half a second, he pulled out and manhandled you, so you were now bent over the altar, your breasts pressed against the wooden surface as your feet dangled in the air, his large hands holding you up. His knee nudged your legs open wider and you felt him slip back inside you, the new position bringing a different sensation. His hips met your ass, and he started thrusting into you eagerly, loud smacks echoing through the church. You held yourself up on your elbows, holding your head up as you looked at the front door; if someone were to walk in, they would see the priest cleansing you, a Godsent blessing.
Your elbows started to tremble, and the man noticed; he slid a hand below your stomach and hoisted you up against his chest, your back pressed against him. He held you up, his arms wrapped around you as his pelvis smacked against your ass, your feet dangling one foot above the floor. He slid a hand down, his fingers running down your slit, groaning as he felt where you two were connected. He ran them up again and pushed his middle finger against your puffy clit, gently rubbing it as he kept working himself in and out of you. Your head fell back on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin.
You truly never had felt anything like this; if you had been a fool, you’d have thought you were glowing from how fulfilled you felt. The familiar tension grew in your lower stomach, lewd noises leaving your mouth as the man dug the fingers of his other hand into your flesh, holding you closer to him as his movements became erratic. His groans and grunts were sending shivers down your back, only adding to the multitudes of sensations you were currently drowning in. As if he could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, he mumbled against your neck, “Let go, ma chérie. Let evil leave your body, let God replace it with goodness.”
Your breath hitched and with a few more nudges on your clit, the pressure building inside you snapped. Your vision went white as you came, the feeling different from your previous releases. Even through the waves of pleasure, you could feel something drip down your thighs and could hear squelches as the priest kept thrusting his length in you. Your mouth was open, silent cries leaving your throat as you clenched tightly around the man. You felt his lips move against your neck, but you were too lost in feelings to understand what he was saying.
Your tensed-up muscles slowly relaxed as the remains of your orgasm washed over your body. You whimpered as the man kept moving, your core feeling overstimulated by his length still burying itself inside your sensitive walls. He quickly pushed your front back against the altar, grabbing your hips as he moved both his hips and yours in sync, your nails digging into the wood as your ass smacked against him. His thrusts were harsh and fast, leaving you breathless; tears were streaming down your cheeks at the delightful ache.
His hips stilled, his length buried deep inside you, as he groaned lowly. You felt your inside be flooded with warmth, whining as you dropped your forehead against the wooden surface, the cold of it grounding you. You were panting, the warmth creating a pleasant pressure inside your core as the priest rubbed his thumbs over your Venus dimples. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds, before easing out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He once again manhandled you so you were now sitting facing him, holding your limp body up as he dragged a hand up your moist thigh, grinning, “See this wetness? It was the remains of evil leaving your body.” His hand reached your slit and he gathered a sticky white substance on his fingers, bringing his hand up close to your lips, “And this is goodness. Do remember, my dear, your sins are scarlet and they shall be as white as snow.”
You gaped at him; he truly was a man of God. He pushed his fingers past your lips, and you let him, wrapping them around his digits as your tongue licked at the goodness. The taste was bitter, but as your eyes met his’, all you could think about was how caring and selfless the man standing in front of you was. You had come to him, worrying about your purity, and he had completely cleansed you of sin and given you his own God-gifted goodness, not asking anything in return. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brushed your cheek with the back of his index, his smile not faltering, “What is this look you are giving me?”
You blinked a few times, your cheeks flushing as you realized you had been staring, “Father, I must thank you. My body and soul were barren, and you made them anew again. I do not know how I could ever repay you.” His eyes narrowed at your words, his hand reaching to grab his glasses before he put them on and ran a hand through his hair. It dropped to your thigh and drew shapes on there, his gaze not leaving yours.
“Alastor,” he said simply before stepping away from you and bending down to grab your clothes. Your expression turned to a confused one as you watched him slip your underwear up your legs, your skirt following. You let him dress you, his fingers skilfully clasping your bra behind your back before he motioned you to lift your arms so he could slip your shirt back on. Once dressed he let his hand lay on your thigh again, before he spoke up, “My name is Alastor. Call me by it and your debt is repaid.” He grabbed one of your hands and dropped the rosary in it before grabbing your waist and helping you down the altar, “Keep this, use it whenever you feel evil is near.”
You nodded up at him and smiled, your grin faltering for a second when you saw that the crucifix on the wall had detached and was now hanging upside down. Oddly, you thought nothing of it and you looked back at Alastor, your smile spreading wide, “Thank you, Fa—Alastor.” You squeezed the rosary between your fingers, watching as he bent down once again, but this time to grab his cassock and Roman collar. You stood silently as he buttoned it up and placed the white collar around his neck. He straightened the fabric with his hands, before meeting your eyes.
“You look quite a mess, dearest, you’d better go home and clean yourself.”
Your hand flew up to your face where dried blood was caked on your chin and around your mouth, and you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words; he did not look any better. Despite it, you nodded, shifting on your feet as you thanked him once again, “I cannot express how thankful I am, Alastor, truly. You, uh, you should probably get cleaned up too; people would probably wonder why there’s blood smeared on their priest’s face.” The man chuckled and nodded before bending down to grab your coat, handing it to you once he straightened up. You took it and quickly slipped it on, putting the rosary in one of the pockets.
You clasped your hands together and bit down your bottom lip as the man put a hand against your back and urged you to walk with him. You walked down the main aisle silently, stopping once you had reached the end of it. You turned to him and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it, “Go, now. Enjoy your newly found purity.” You smiled and dipped your chin once; he grinned back, “I will see you tomorrow, though I am hoping you will not walk back in here with that same pitiful expression you had earlier.”
You let out a small laugh as you gestured that you agreed before giving him one last glance and turning around, walking towards the door. You could feel his stare burn holes in your back but ignore the feeling, pushing against the door and stepping outside, the sunlight momentarily blinding you. You sighed loudly, looking around to make sure no one was close; the last thing you wanted was someone seeing you limp, your face bloody. You began to make your way back home, ignoring the way your thighs stuck together from your and Alastor’s bodily fluids. You thought about his words, and strangely, you found yourself disagreeing; you hoped the faceless man would come back. You had tasted true goodness, the powerful and unconditional love and mercy of God, and you wanted more of it.
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schwarzkatje · 2 days
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abby x chubby!reader - a very self indulgent scenario
warning: just so you know, this contains obviously mentions of descriptions regarding body parts so if this is a trigger i advise you don't read this.
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i believe abby to be one of those butches who absolutely go feral for fuller, chubbier women.
this goes hand in hand with my previous headcanon/scenario in which i explored abby's breeding kink. because once you gain weight and your breasts gets bigger, your thighs become plushier and your stomach forms that slightly hanging portion of skin adorned in your frilly and feminine dresses, abby is ashamed to admit to even herself the undeniable effect she experiences.
she doubts if what she is doing is really offensive to you because she wonders whether this can fall into the category of objectification. therefore, abby has to mentally remind herself to not be a creep and to divert her gaze from you.
her thoughts are at constant fight as one part of herself blames a morbid perversion that has to be kept on check, but just as the other part sketches the idea of it being nothing but an harmless preference in her partners.
that being said, the semblance of self control that she had built with such an effort completely shatters when you two actually interact with each other. your inclination for shirts and dresses that showed your soft chest in just the perfect way to make abby's head spin is the cherry on top of this insane obsession she has to continuously push back.
it really doesn't take much for abby to have images flashing in her head displaying her taking one of your breasts in her hand and the other under the torturous treatment of her tongue and teeth, responsible for the purple love bites scattered all over your upper body.
following suit, the scenario alone of you on your back as abby spreads your legs and brings them to yourself, bending you in half and thus highlighting the delicious rolls of your stomach causes a wet patch to form in her underwear and an undetectable twitch of her legs, squeezing to maintain the facade of a normal person who doesn't get turned on as easily as an hormonal teenager would.
one day you two are sitting together and it pains abby to not be able to handle looking at you without the need to shy away and focus on anything that isn't you. and if she manages to avoid the sight of you, your laugh and the touches you give her are daggers piercing through her shield. she is aware of how awkward she actually acts and how impossible it would have been for you to not notice at some point.
when you place your smooth hand above her own – which abby had put on her knee – her breath halts and before she can apply some rationality she turns to you, finding you are closer than her senses had detected.
your eyes are so big and innocent and full of joy and... seducing, she observes.
"abby..." despite your firm gaze, her name comes out of your mouth as a whisper capable of making her hand on the knee grip it forcefully, not minding that this is definitely giving her off.
"i've been wanting to ask you this for quite some time," you unforgivably continue "but why do i feel like we're growing apart?" the content your inquiry is that of an unspeakable sorrow and fear of losing a dear person, but the tone in which it is asked exudes a neediness for something beyond simple reassurance. you bite your lips as abby is speechless before your question and your vicinity – what in the hell is happening? is she imagining things like she always does?
her attempt at assembling a sentence proves to be a failure when all you can hear is something along the lines of "no", "of course not", without any addition of the reason behind that.
"i wouldn't be here with you right now were it the case," is the best she manages to say as she tries to laugh it off with a shy grimace feigning a confidence that is long gone the moment you are in her presence.
"but then why are you always so stiff when i hug you? you don't even come up with ideas for what to do together like we used to," your heartbeat quickens, dwelling in an uncertain place between genuine hurt and sinful arousal for abby's shyness and difficulty in approaching you.
"i- i haven't really noticed anything different, maybe it's just that i've been busy but i'm not avoiding you, i mean–" she is cut short by your voice interrupting her and your face inching closer and closer to the point where she can see the shape of your lips with the corner of her eye.
"do i make you uneasy, abby?" and why do you have to lean forward and have your breasts already tightened by your corset invade her visual field. "and to think i've been wearing this for you," now your knee is touching hers, your dress leaving your thighs exposed the more you draw near, "hoping you would take it off," what on earth— "or, even better, you would have fucked me in it..."
what kind of absurd dream is she in?
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miley1442111 · 17 hours
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choices and chances- art donaldson
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
summary: the last time you're second-place to tashi
pairing: art donaldson x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, etc. +
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Art ran through the science building, tennis bag swinging from his back as he raced through students to get to you. Patrick was hot on his heels, shouting ‘where are you going?’ and ‘can you slow down?!’. 
Art did not slow down. Art kept running. 
He knew this was his last and final chance, that if he didn’t make it to this, he would lose you for good. He was still sweaty from a warm-up session with Tashi 10 minutes ago, his hat was practically falling off his head but he couldn’t have cared less. 
As he came to a halting stop outside the lab you were having an exam in, his heart dropped when he saw the lights off and the chairs empty. He checked the time, 2:48pm. Your exam finished at 2:30, right?
Art opened your texts and scrolled back to the text in which you had told him about the date of your final exam, asking him to pick you up at 2:00pm. 
“Fuck!” Art shouted, gaining many stares from the students around him. He quickly dialled your number (he had learnt it by heart) only to be met with an automated voice telling him that his number was blocked. “Fuck!” 
His tennis bag was swung to the floor and he sat against the wall, anger and shame eating at him. You had a match against Tashi and a final science lab today, and he was too busy with Tashi, helping her warm up when he should've been with you. 
“Hey, at least you’re off the hook,” Patrick patted him on the shoulder and Art blew up. 
“I don’t want to be off the hook! I want her to be angry with me, I want her to see me, to want to see me! I want her to fight with me, because that’s all we fucking do nowdays and it’s all my fucking fault! Once again, I ruined the best chance I’ve ever had with tennis!” He shouted, standing up tall in front of Patrick. “And yes, Patrick, I’m aware that you’re dating Tashi and that you think I’m jealous, well I’m fucking not! I just want my girlfriend to still want to be my girlfriend! My Y/n to still be my Y/n! So don’t come to me every fucking time Tashi pisses you off, telling me that ‘I can have her’ because I don’t fucking want her!”
Patrick sat there stunned. Art had never raised his voice at him.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my girlfriend,” Art said after gaining his composure once more, and starting to walk down the hall. 
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Art didn’t find you before the match, but he was sitting beside an upset Patrick. 
You came out in your Nike tennis outfit, Tashi in her Adidas, and the match began. 
What ensued was real tennis. Tashi was talented, yes. But you, you were on fire. You beat Tashi Duncan. You actually beat Tashi Duncan. 
Art couldn’t have been more proud. Or worried. 
What if this actually was his last chance and he blew it on Tashi?
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He knocked on your dorm door with a bunch of lilies in his hand, your favourite. He had a whole plan, he would apologise, grovel, congratulate, then fuck you. Then, he’d spend all weekend with you and go into San Francisco for a city break. 
You opened the door wearing one of his sweaters, a sleepy, but upset look in your eyes. “What?”
“Can we talk?” He asked, a smile on his face at your beautiful and drowsy state. 
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes and stepped outside instead of letting him in. Odd. 
“I’m so sorry, I thought that the final ended at 2:30 and when I got there you were gone-”
“What time did you get there?” You asked, crossing your arms across your chest. 
“2:30?” he lied. 
“No you didn’t. I waited until 2:40 for you Art, fucking praying you would show up, don’t lie to me.”
Art sighed. “I’m sorry baby.”
“Look Art, I’m getting really tired of being second place to everyone, sorry- to Tashi, in your life so please just let me go,” you asked. “Now, I would really like to get back into my dorm.”
Art knew he had to fight for you. “Please, I wanted to make it up to you, I thought he could go to San-Fran this weekend, just you and me, no tennis, no distractions.”
“I have a match this weekend Art,” you rolled your eyes and Art sighed, realising he’d forgotten. “Y’know, the one you promised me you’d be at so you could meet my parents?”
“Yes of course, you know I’ll be there, I meant after we could go to San-Fran,” he smiled, his hands on your hips. 
“Don’t bother coming, we’re done,” you shoved his hands off your body and walked back to your door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very hot guy from my science class who would like to fuck me again, so I’ll see you around Arthur.”
You slammed the door in his face and his heart broke, he had lost you. 
He had made his choices, and lost all of his chances.
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navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
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heartfullofleeches · 6 hours
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I have an idea, what if reader is kinda a himbo, and directly after their shower they answer the door and thank brie for the food while they're 1. Still wet, 2. Only wearing a towel, and 3. Have their fat tits exposed with the towel on their waist or have hot cleavage if it's worn up to under the armpits.
(Brie and big titty FratBro Reader? Brie and big titty Fratbro Reader)
Yan "Pizza Boy" + Himbo Reader
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"Brie?? Long time no see, man- How ya been?"
"Haha, I was here yesterday si....lly..... oh my God..."
Your voice rings out seconds before the door fully opens. Basked in the light of your living room, like a scene ripped directly out of his dreams, you step into view - a towel wrapped around your neck and another tied at your waist. As you dry your hair, beads of water trickle down your neck, the glistening skin of your bare chest too calling for him to ignore. He sneaks a peak, eyes welded shut the moment he realized this was no fantasy.
He doubts anything born of his delusions could compared to the real thing. Brie had been previewed to miracle your bust in the past. Your cleavage slipping from the neck of a tight sweat shirt or the tease of your areola from a tank top. He couldn't wrap his head around how how they looked bigger with you topless. A large factor could have been his placement at the second stair leading up to your home. From where he stood, Brie could probably lick one of your nipples standing straight up. His knees wobble beneath the weight of his upper body.
"Y/n.... I can tell you just hopped out of the shower, but you do know that you're shirtless-"
The bounce of your pecs as you laugh nearly sends Brie catatonic.
"Sorry, dude. Thought you'd be cool with it since we're buds and all- Not like it's nothing you haven't seen before anyway. I can go throw on a shirt really quick if-"
"No!"
His shout surprises you both. Brie nervously chuckles, begging you to take the pizza box out of his hands before his sweaty hands run the cardboard. "It's your place afterall- You can dress however you want! I couldn't even complain if you answered the door naked!"
...
Is it too late for this to be another one of his dreams?
"Heh. You're funny, Brie. I wouldn't flash you like that or nothing. Let me take that off your hands for you."
Brie sucks in a breathe as you lean towards him. It doesn't leave him as your chest inches closer to his face - eyes darting in every direction to avoid detection. They land upon the indent of your pelvis as the knot of your towel draws looser - bulging out of their sockets as the cloth falls off your hip-
He's almost heartbroken to see you're wearing boxers.
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aperrywilliams · 2 days
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Douchebag Falls Short in This Case (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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Author Masterlist
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Part 1: If Anything I Find it Educative
Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Spencer and Reader can’t have their scheduled lunch, but they keep talking by phone and texts. After Spencer returns from a case, they can see each other again. If Spencer hadn’t been mesmerized with Reader, now he is, and maybe is more than that.
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: Some strong words. Description of Road Rage Disorder. Talking about bad experiences at high school (nothing explicit). Emily is the best older sister to Spencer.
A/N: The prospect of them having a date was too tempting not to do it. This one is part 3 of “If Anything I Find It Educative” (Part 2 of “It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t”). Let me know your thoughts!!! I’m here to read you guys.
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Spencer's POV
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Me: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. S.R.
Heimlich Master: Yeah. Lunch sounds great. Let's talk about the details later. Good night :)
My face hurts from the big smile I sport right now. Smile that doesn't fade once I get to my apartment.
How did I manage to text her right away? I would never know, but I thank that moment of confidence.
Now I can't wait to see her again on Saturday.
---
I should have known making plans wouldn't work for me. It's Friday afternoon, and I'm on the jet about to take off for a case in Los Angeles.
There goes my lunch with (Y/N).
I grab my phone to type a text to let her know.
Between last night and today, we have been texting back and forth about what time on Saturday works for us and whether I had a place in mind. I did, but I told her it was a surprise.
Now I must cancel, and I can't stress enough my disappointment.
Me: Hey. I'm so sorry, but I'm leaving for a case in L.A. Can we reschedule our lunch? Please don't hate me.
Heimlich Master: Oh, it's okay. Don't worry; of course, we can reschedule.
Heimlich Master: Let me know when you come back. And don't be silly; I don't hate you.
Heimlich Master: Can I ask you for something, though?
Me: Sure. Anything.
Heimlich Master: Can you prevent Morgan from kick-down doors this time? The bureau budget would appreciate it.
I can't contain the snort that leaves my lips, gaining Emily's attention. Bad luck of mine; she is in a seat just in front of me.
Me: I'll do my best. Promise.
Heimlich Master: Thank you. Have a safe flight :)
Me: Thanks :)
Look at me! Even using emojis.
Penelope would be proud of me.
I set my phone on the table to exchange it for the book I chose for this flight. Emily's voice stops me before I can do that.
"So, are you going to tell me why you are so smiling?"
And here we go.
"Me?" I lift my eyes to Emily, who has a smirk on her face. I hate that she already knows what's happening, not even knowing what's happening.
"Sure, genius. I don't see anyone else here so amused and focused on his texts. Not to mention the grin that could illuminate the whole D.C."
"No, I'm not!" I defend—a poor attempt to keep the transparency of my face at bay. Emily scoffs, and that's all it takes to know she doesn't believe me.
"I understand you don't like to talk about your personal life. I get it. And I won't bug you as Morgan would, yet knowing it is related to your love life. But don't try to fool me. It's insulting," she says, the last part faking hurt. That makes me chuckle.
"That being said, I just want you to know I'm here if you need to talk. It's not always good to keep things to yourself."
Not waiting for my response, she picks up the folder with the current case details to read.
I have known Emily for a few years now, and even if we didn't start on the right foot - entirely my fault - she's proven very supportive. Gosh, once she endured a whole beating from an unsub only to keep me safe.
Beyond that, she knows how to talk to me without treating me like a kid. Sometimes, I can't say the same about the rest. Of course, I don't blame them; they've always seen me as the team's baby, but I appreciate Emily doesn't.
"That's the thing. This," I point my gaze where my phone is. "I don't know what it is," I sigh. Emily's eyes are back to me. She sees how confused I am.
"What do you think it is then?"
I don't want to betray (Y/N) 's trust by spilling details about her life, so the specifics of our talks are out of the table.
"I can't deny there is a connection between us. We only met twice—both by chance. But they led us to talk for hours. And I ask myself, am I reading this wrong, and she only sees me like a, I don't know, potential friend?"
"Why would she? She told you she was only looking for a friend?" Emily asks, her hands resting lightly over the folder on her lap.
"No, she didn't. It's a deduction of mine, though. I mean, she recently ended a relationship —a very serious one."
Just remembering the reason that led to that breakup makes me sick.
"Okay. That could be a thing, but not necessarily. Maybe things ended precisely because she wanted something different. That's not bad," Emily hypothesizes. I shake my head.
"I'm not so sure. Let's say she wouldn't have ended the relationship until something big happened. Big enough for her to realize the guy was a total -"I trail off. What would be the right word?
"A douchebag?" Emily offers.
"I think douchebag falls short in this case," I point out. Emily's eyes widen.
"That bad, uh?" I nod.
"She is vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of that. But at the same time, I want a chance with her. Am I a bad person?"
"What? No! Spencer, don't say that," Emily rushes to stop my spiral. "Far from that. You are considerate enough to see she's in a complicated situation. Most of the men don't even care about that. Cut her some slack, though. She is a grown-up woman, and if she wants to get to know you, why not let her? If she hasn't already, I bet she will see the great man you are. And not only as a friend."
My eyebrows furrow.
"Do you think so?"
"Sure. And for how you describe her, I don't think she is the type to play with people's feelings. Although, I strongly recommend being honest with her. That will prevent false expectations."
I take in Emily's words, and they make perfect sense.
"Thank you, Emily. I didn't think about it like that," I
muse. "Can you do me a favor, though?"
She nods, anticipating what I'm going to say.
"I know. Not a word to anyone. Got it," Emily confirms with a reassuring smile.
---
The heat in Los Angeles for the last three days has been overpowering. Just as catching this unsub has become extremely frustrating.
I'm in the meeting room they lent us to work in, reviewing the details of the case over and over again. The rest of the team is outside the precinct following our latest leads.
My head started to hurt, and I had to close my eyes for a moment.
As I focus on breathing, my phone pings. I open my eyes and see a text from (Y/N).
Heimlich Master: How are you? I read that L.A. has a heat wave; I hope it's not hitting you too hard.
I can't help the smile that pushes the corners of my lips upward.
Me: I'd like to say it's not affecting me, but I don't want to lie. I will survive, though. Please tell me how nice the weather is in D.C., and I'll aim to finish this case as soon as possible.
Heimlich Master: I thought our lunch was enough incentive for you to do that. Now I feel bad.
Oh, fuck. What did I do? Of course, it's an incentive for me. It is THE incentive, actually. I have been thinking about that since Friday when I came here. Now she's assuming I don't care.
How can you be such an idiot, Spencer?
I must fix this immediately, so I hit the call button—a confused (Y/N) answers on the other end.
"Spencer?"
"Hey. I - uh. I decided to call because I needed to explain myself. Please, don't feel bad. Of course, I want our lunch to happen. I wasn't saying it like if I don't. I mean, the heat is fucking insane here, but it's not-"
"Spencer, hey, don't-" she tries to make me stop. Still, I am so determined to say everything necessary to explain myself that I continue my rant.
"What I'm trying to say is-"
"Spencer, wait!" (Y/N)’s firmer voice halts me in my failed attempt at an apology. It's sufficient enough for me to shut up.
"Sorry. What were you about to say?"
"I'm sorry for stopping you, but it sounded like you would run out of air and pass out. Now I feel awful because the last thing I wrote was only to mess with you. I didn't want you to feel like I was accusing you of something, much less that you owed me an apology."
"Oh," I mumble, now making sense of the whole exchange. My cheeks heat up realizing I went from 0 to 100 in seconds. (Y/N)'s voice sounds anxious now.
"Please, forgive me if I worried you that way. That's why I hate texts; I can't control my teasing tone as I do when I talk to someone."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I don't want (Y/N) to think she did anything wrong, though.
"No, don't say that. I'm not good at - literally - reading social cues. I should have noticed. I just need some practice," I chuckle. I can hear a chuckle on the other end, too.
"Well, since we already cleared up our first miscommunication problem. How are you?"
That sentence shouldn't make my heart skip a beat, but it does.
Get your shit together, Spencer.
"With the heat and the lack of progress in the case, it is a bit frustrating. But we'll make it. How about you?"
"Good, actually. Not the load of paperwork I had last week, and my boss just asked me to prepare a lecture for the trainees in forensic accounting."
"Wow, that's amazing!" I chirp, excited.
"I'm a bit nervous, though. But I'll live," (Y/N) sighs.
"You'll do it great. I didn't know you were into teaching," I muse, remembering our prior conversations.
"I didn't, either. But I've had some previous experiences, and they have been okay. So, the case? That bad, uh?"
That brings me back to L.A. and the case. I was very comfy with my mind in (Y/N).
"He's taunting us. I mean, the police force. But we have a strong profile. One more piece, and we have him," I assure, trying to be convincing enough.
"You guys know what you're doing. You'll catch him, Spencer." (Y/N) sounds like she has no doubt. It fills my heart with warmth because although she doesn't have to put that amount of trust in me, she does it anyway.
"Reid?" I turn to see Morgan and J.J. walking into the room. She hears it, too.
"They need you. You have to return to work," (Y/N) concludes. I let out a sigh.
"Yeah. I have to go," I mumble apologeticly.
"Of course, you're working. It’s okay," she affirms with understanding.
"I'll let you know when I'm done here. Take care, okay?" I whisper into the receiver.
"I will. You too, be safe. Bye."
I can see Morgan's smirk and JJ’s curious look when I hang up.
I know they're dying to ask me questions, but now is not the time, and I don't want to either. So before any words come from their mouths, I hasten to speak.
"Did you find anything? I was examining what we have so far, and I think we are missing something. Look at this," I tell them, pointing to the scattered photos on the table. They look at each other and hesitate to interrupt me or play along. Thank goodness they opt for the latter.
---
Me: Did you know L.A. has an abandoned underground tunnel network? If they are put together, it will stretch out 17 kilometers. They exist due to the Prohibition. When alcohol was banned in L.A. in early 1920, 35,000 gallons of wine were poured into its sewers. But, far from eradicating booze, prohibition pushed its use underground, literally.
Heimlich Master: Wow. I didn't know that. But I'm afraid to ask why are you telling me this. Are you trapped in one of those tunnels, and this is a call for help? [see attached photo]
Me: Ha Ha Ha. Let's say I've been studying those tunnels all day. Good thing we have Morgan and Prentiss to do the dirty job, though.
It's my fifth night in Los Angeles, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The only things that have kept me at least in a decent mood are the texts and short calls I have shared with (Y/N). I've never been very fond of using technology, including my cell phone, but thanks to (Y/N), I haven't even questioned it.
We've been sharing fun facts and memes. If you had asked me a week ago what a meme was, I wouldn't have known what to answer. The word was familiar to me thanks to Garcia, who often mentions them, but now I can say that I know more about them than I would have expected to. (Y/N) is a regular, and I can understand more of her sense of humor because of that. She especially loves the ones with a philosopher dinosaur and those where a woman yells at a cat.
Heimlich Master: How is the case going?
I'm about to reply when hard knocks shake my hotel room door. I hear Morgan's voice on the other side. "Reid! There is a break in the case! Move your ass right now!" Before leaving the room, I texted (Y/N).
Me: Hoping to wrap it up tonight.
Two hours later, we have the unsub in custody, not before running into a frantic chase for L.A. streets. Now, completely wasted, we are packing our things to return home. Usually, when we wrap cases at this hour, we stay until the next morning and then take off. But everyone is so drained that Hotch called to the tarmac saying we’re flying back tonight.
Being already on the jet, I feel like writing to (Y/N), but it doesn't seem appropriate, considering it's 2 in the morning. I refrain and try to catch some sleep, knowing exactly what I want to do first when we touch down in Virginia.
---
It’s the first time I've put foot on the third floor of the Quantico Headquarters. It doesn’t look too different from the others I do know. A bunch of people walking in and out, agents perched at their desks, deep in folders or computers. Phones are ringing, and the sound of copy machines is unmistakable.
But none of that matters right now. I have a mission to accomplish.
After navigating between several desks, I find the one I’m looking for.
“Good morning, agent (Y/L/N).”
At the sound of my voice, (Y/N)’s head whips up.
“Hey! When did you come back?” she asks, seeming confused. The last time we spoke was last night before the unsub takedown, so for her, I still could be in LA.
I check my watch. “One hour and fifteen minutes ago.”
“I hope you slept on the jet.”
“I did. A bit.”
I won’t tell her how I barely closed my eyes, excited about returning to Virginia.
“So, to what do I owe the honor of having you here, Dr. Reid?”
“A crucial matter that can’t wait.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-hu. I have an announcement and a question for you.”
“Oh yeah? Okay, shoot.”
“Morgan didn't kick down any doors during this case.”
(Y/N) snort a laugh. What a beautiful view it is to see her laugh.
“It's what I needed to start my day with the right foot.”
“You're welcome.”
“Okay, that was the announcement. And the question?”
“Yeah, about that. What do you say if we switch our failed lunch last Saturday for having dinner tonight?”
(Y/N)’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Tonight? Are you sure? You just came back.”
She’s inspecting my face, looking for certainty. I nod solemnly.
“Yeah, tonight. Unless you already have plans. If that’s the case, it’s okay. We can do something another day.”
After pondering my offer for a second, a smile creeps in (Y/N)’s face.
“You’re a lucky guy. Did you know that?”
Is it too much to say I’m feeling a lucky guy since I met her?
“I’m realizing now. Pick you up at seven, then. Is that okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll text you my full address.”
After saying our goodbyes, I take the elevator back to BAU. As the doors open at the sixth, I go face-to-face with Garcia.
“Oh, there you are! Everyone was looking for you to start the debriefing. Where were you anyways?” Penelope says, worried about my whereabouts.
Shit. I forgot Hotch wanted to do that quickly so we could finally get over this case.
“Uh. I had to use the bathroom.” I try to sound normal to avoid making a big deal.
“On another floor?” She asks, visibly confused.
Sometimes, my IQ gets lost in my odd way of doing synapses.
What the fuck I was thinking when I said that?
“Did you know the men’s bathroom paper toilet in the seventh is better quality than here?”
Oh, Spencer Reid, please stop.
“Really? I always knew they had more privileges than us. But the paper toilet? It’s infuriating,” Garcia huffs. And I know doing this is not very kind of me, but I promise to explain to her. Not now, though.
“Uh. I’m going to the conference room now. The others are waiting,” I announce, and Garcia nods, ushering me there.
“Yes. Go, go!”
Aside from the looks of 'Where the hell were you?' no one commented on me being late. Once we debrief, Hotch officially closes the case, instructing us to finish the paperwork and head home at lunchtime, which is perfect for my plans. It gives me enough time to prepare for dinner with (Y/N).
I know I look like a teenager, but I don't care.
Around three in the afternoon, I am already in my apartment and have made a restaurant reservation.
I decided to take a quick nap, although I didn't know how much sleep I would get given my nerves. It's not that being with (Y/N) makes me anxious per se; It's the anticipation of being with her.
Maybe I'm expecting too much from this date.
Shit. 'This date' Is this actually a date?
I feel like it is, but for (Y/N), will it be the same?
I invited her to dinner but never told her it was a date. Derek would tell me it is, but I don't want to assume.
Now is when Emily's words ring in my ears: 'Be honest with her to avoid false expectations.'
With her words in mind and the tiredness from the last days catching up with me, slumber finds me after a while.
---
It’s seven pm sharp, and I’m knocking on (Y/N)’s door. I can hear some rustling from inside before the doors open, revealing her frame greeting me with a smile.
“Hey! Just in time!”
“H- hi,” I say, almost breathless after taking in her appearance.
It's true that the first time I saw (Y/N), she was dressed to the nines. It's also true that when I saw her on the terrace that night, I couldn't help but think how beautiful and captivating she was.
The next time was at Quantico. She wore a classic and elegant office outfit, with black formal trousers, a white silk blouse, and a fitted maroon jacket. The image of all the confidence and resolve I bet she has at the job.
But now? My jaw shamelessly drops.
She's wearing a sleek, form-fitting black dress that accentuates her curves and black heels that elongate her legs. A beautiful cardigan wraps elegantly in her upper half. Her hair is styled in loose waves cascading over her shoulders, and she's accessorized with long silver earrings and the same necklace with the compass I saw on her the first time. She looks sophisticated, alluring, and just perfect.
“Let me get my purse, and we can go, okay?” (Y/N) says, jutting her thumb to the inside.
“Su- yeah, sure.”
Great. I’m a stuttering mess.
The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I talked about the last heatwave in Los Angeles, and she annoyed me by telling me about the rain in Virginia last week.
Now I ask (Y/N) if she has a car. It happens that she owns a car but doesn't like to drive.
“I just discovered years ago I don't like it. But I kept the car only for emergencies, which is stupid if I think of it,” she prefaces.
“Why?” I ask, stealing a glance at her.
“Because now all emergencies I can think of entail myself incapable of driving.”
Her laugh fills the car now, and I can’t help but join her.
“Okay, okay. But really, why you don’t like it?” I ask when our laughing fades. (Y/N) clears her throat.
“Uh - are you familiar with the term road rage?”
I nod, not peeling my gaze from the streets ahead.
“Yes, I do. Colloquially known as ‘angry driver disorder,’ it is aggressive or angry behavior exhibited by motorists. These behaviors include rude and verbal insults, yelling, physical threats, or dangerous driving methods targeted at other drivers, pedestrians, or cyclists to intimidate or release frustration.”
A sigh escapes (Y/N)’s lips. “Yeah. That.”
Using the chance a red light gives me, I look at her with an eyebrow furrowed.
“So, do you have RRD?”
She averts my gaze, focusing on the windshield instead.
“I thought I had it. At first, I didn’t give it any importance. I said it was just me trying to adjust to the jungle. Who hasn’t yelled as driving? But there were times when I freaked out of myself and feared doing something more than screeching or honking like crazy. So, I stopped driving for a while. I did my research and learned techniques to get it under control. But since then, I never enjoyed it again.”
A nervous giggle escapes from (Y/N)’s lips.
“Jesus, you are going to think I’m a society threat.”
I shake my head without a second thought.
“Of course, you are not. Furthermore, I find it admirable that you realized it was unhealthy and took action before living a worse experience.”
I see a blush creeping (Y/N)’s cheeks from the corner of my eye.
Not five minutes later, we are at the restaurant parking lot.
Descending from the vehicle, I hurry to (Y/N)’s door and open it for her. Once she is out of the car, I offer my arm so she can lace hers with it.
The hostess greets us at the entrance, and once he checks our reservation, he leads us to our table.
It's the first time I’m here. I chose it because Rossi once said it was perfect for a date.
Again. A date. Something I still don't know if apply here.
A waitress approaches us as soon as we sit, handing us two menus.
“Miss, sir. I’m Emma, and I’ll be at your service this evening. Can I offer something to drink?”
After Emma leaves us with our orders, (Y/N) turns to me.
“Spencer, this place is amazing.”
And she is right. The soft lighting from the small lamps creates a warm atmosphere. The decor includes cozy tables spaced apart for privacy, with comfortable seating and plush cushions. Soft and muted deep reds and browns fill the interior, with classy artwork on the walls. It's really nice.
But above all, the company makes it even better.
Our conversation flows as easily as in the car. It's so comfortable as we have known each other for a long time. And we just met less than two weeks ago.
“Okay, let me get this straight. So you are from Vegas and couldn't bear the L.A. heatwave?”
“I have lived in DC for almost eight years, so I adapted better to this climate.” I shrug and (Y/N) hums.
“You don't get to go there that much? I mean, do you have family there?”
“Just my mom. And no, I don’t see her very often,” I confess—a tint of guilt in my voice.
I see (Y/N)’s face, and I know she wants to ask, but she is respectful enough not to. Not everyone is.
“I’m an only child. And my dad left us when after my tenth birthday. With no siblings, it is only my mom and me. But even if I don't see her often, I write her letter daily.”
I look at her again, expecting the same face everyone gives me when I talk about my family, the one that screams pity. But no, if (Y/N)’s face screams anything, it’s understanding.
“Old school, uh? I’m sure your mom loves your letters,” she says, sipping her glass of wine. I nod,
telling (Y/N) more about my letters to my mom and how detailed she likes me to write them.
“And I think it helped us not to break the bond.” I shrug, taking a bit from the fork. “What about you? Did you say you are not from DC?”
“No. I’m not. I’m from Minneapolis. My parents settled there at a very young age. They were born in the South. I have two siblings: an older sister and a younger brother. My parents are still in Minneapolis, and my brother is, but he lives with his boyfriend now. My sister left for Chicago when she married her fiancee years ago.”
“Do you see them often?”
(Y/N) shakes her head.
“Not quite. Just in holidays or major events. But we call each other often. I always know what happens there, and they know what happens to me here.”
(Y/N) tells me she is not that close with her sister, though. Since she started dating his current husband, they distanced. And that only worsened when (Y/N) moved to DC.
“I’m sorry. That must have hurt.” I don’t know what having a sibling is, but I see in her eyes that she is not okay with how things turned between them.
“Yeah. But neither of us has done something about it. And here is where I need to clarify that stubbornness runs in my family,” she chuckles.
I pull a face, faking surprise. “Yeah, that’s so you can realize who you're dealing with,” she says, pointing her fork at me.
Our conversation bounces from topic to topic until we land on the school phase.
I tell her about what it's like to be a child prodigy in a public school in Las Vegas. The bad things and the not-so-bad ones, because believe it or not, I can see something positive from that time at this point in my life.
“Clearly, I didn't have it as difficult as you, but I am sure we all felt out of place at some point during that time,” she muses, cutting a piece of her dessert with the spoon.
“Did you?”
She lets out a chuckle. “Let's say I haven't been very ‘typical’ in my life, especially in high school. I mean, if following a stereotype was required, mine was quite different from the other girls my age.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “How is so?”
“Well, while my friends dreamed about having a Mr. Darcy-Elizabeth kind of love, I found Heathcliff and Kathy's relationship more appealing,” she stops from her explanation with a snort escaping her lips. “Ha! I should have known it would be a problem later.”
Why do I think other people would know what she is talking about while I don't?
Of course, she sees the confusion written all over my face.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” I pull a face, shaking my head.
“At risk of being disrespectful, uh, no. I don't.”
“Don’t worry. You don't have to, I guess. But if you read Wuthering Heights someday, you will know.”
I will—first thing in the morning.
“But the main idea is that I never expected life would be something close to a fairy tale, you know? I just didn't believe it, and my friends hated that of me.”
Jerks.
It's fair to say that we are so caught up in chatting that we don’t realize we are the only ones left in the restaurant. We do when Emma approaches to ask if we need anything.
After paying the check, we left the restaurant and headed to my car. The ride is mainly silent this time. I don’t want this night to end, and I think (Y/N) doesn't either because of how she bites her lower lip with her eyes trained on the road ahead.
We begin a light conversation for a few minutes after arriving at her building. With the car in parking, I reach her side of the vehicle to open the door for her. I offer her my hand, and she takes it, giving me a warm smile.
“I'll walk you to the door.” She nods softly, “Okay.”
The three floors to her apartment are pure agony in my head. I want to be honest with her, but I also don't want to scare her into thinking I'm a creep or whatever. If she notices my internal dilemma, she doesn't mention it. We reach her door, and (Y/N) takes her keys from her purse. I don't trust my hands and keep them in my pockets as she opens the door. She turns to face me now.
“Thank you, Spencer. I had a great time tonight.”
I see it in her eyes. She is genuine. And my heart skips a bit.
“Me too. Thanks for accepting my invitation.”
My hands feel clammy, so I take them out of my pocket and dry them discreetly on my clothes.
“Of course.”
We remain silent without taking our eyes off each other. Emily's words reverberate, and I know what I must do.
Okay. Here we go.
“Can I - can I ask you something?”
I wish I could speak without stumbling over my words.
“Sure.”
“Would you say that tonight, that is, our dinner - would you say it was a date? I mean, would you classify this as a date?”
(Y/N)’s eyes are trained on me as if trying to follow my train of thought.
“A date? Why wouldn’t I?”
She is still careful but curious about where I’m going with all of this.
“It's just that I never said it was a date when I talked about dinner.”
“So, you didn’t want it as a date?” (Y/N) asks for clarification, and I feel like the stupidest human being on earth.
“No! I did. I do. It's just - I thought you maybe thought of it like something different?”
She narrows her eyes at me. This is not working. I take a deep breath before starting over.
“The thing is, I don’t know if I’m reading this wrong. From the times we have seen each other and what we have talked about in these two weeks, I feel that there is something that feels so good between us, and I wonder if maybe you don't feel it or if you see it as something similar to a friendship. I know things in that part of your life have been messy lately, and I would understand if you wouldn't want anything to do with me, but I can't stop thinking-“
My rant is halted when I notice (Y/N)’s palm caressing my cheek. There is a glimmer in her eyes that makes my heart stop.
“Spencer. You are not reading this wrong. I feel the same way you described it as ‘right,’ even if I’m unsure what it is exactly.”
I let out a dramatic sigh I didn't know I was holding. That makes (Y/N) giggle. I join her with a chuckle myself.
As the giggle subsides, I hold her hand and place it over my chest near my heart. My other hand softly tilts her chin so I can look into her eyes.
“You are amazing; did you know that?” I whisper, and her breath hitched. I flick my gaze between her eyes and her lips. She does the same. And that's what I needed to get the courage and lean in. Slowly, the distance between us gets short, and I swear my heart is going to burst out of my chest. I can feel her breath fanning my face as her eyes flutter close.
And then, our lips met for the first time.
It's slow, and I can taste the sweetness of her lips.
I've never felt something like this kissing someone before, but now that I know what it's like, I never want to stop feeling it.
Her hands go up my shoulders, seeking a grip on the hair at the back of my neck. My hands fly to her hips to pull her closer to me as our kiss deepens. I sweep my tongue over her lower lip, and she parts them to grant me access. One of my hands leaves her hip to cup her face to get a better angle for continuing our kiss. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me impossibly closer.
I don’t want it to end, but the need for air is too much. After breaking the kiss, we are both panting with our faces flushed and lips swollen.
“Wow.”
“Jesus.”
We breathe out at the same time, followed by a fit of giggles.
Her laugh is definitely my new favorite sound on Earth.
I cup her cheeks and lean again to steal a quick kiss from her lips, and when I’m about to part again, she tightens her grip on my suit jacket lapels and brings me to her lips again.
After two or three more kisses, we lose the hold of our hands off each other, with a wide grin spread on our faces.
“I think we already give my neighbors enough of a show for tonight,” (Y/N) points out, biting her lower lip and peeking at both sides of the hall behind me.
“Yeah,” I mumble as I stroke her cheek, gaze focused on her eyes. “I should get going.” (Y/N) nods. “Text me when you are home?”
“I will.”
After another quick kiss, I muster the will to say goodbye. Wishing me goodnight, (Y/N) enters the apartment and closes the door. I linger there for a few seconds, excited like a child after the best day of his life.
I feel like it is.
Right now? I'm beyond grateful to Hotch for making me attend that stupid gala.
------------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
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necstasy · 2 days
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paul atreides x bene gesserit reader? 👀 pretty please
slight manipulation?; bene gesserit reader; &. PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+
"have you mastered it yet?"
you know what the atreides son is speaking of. the voice, one of the most difficult parts of the bene gesserit training. for a second, you wonder how he knows of the technique. and then you remember his mother, a woman the reverend mother has spoken highly of during your training sessions, despite her defiance.
your eyes watch you and paul's hands as you go to speak. they hang in suspended air off to the side of you both, fingertips touching lightly as paul leads your hands up down, and to either side. he's creating a box, you realize. it's a soothing and mesmerizing dance.
"no. not yet."
paul hums. his free hand moves from behind your back to your waist.
"it's difficult." it's not a question, he speaks from experience. your eyebrows furrow. you have the urge to ask him how exactly he knows. you want to know if he is being trained in the ways of the bene gesserit, something a man has never been privy to.
but so much else is already sacred in this space. in the dead of night, in your guest quarters, a space that you should not be sharing with the only son of your host for the next week. but it was only natural that you and paul found each other. there was a pull drawing you towards him since you got off the ship. the order of events surely would have driven you two together in an intimate space sooner or later.
"it is," you agree after a moment.
paul shuffles just a bit closer to you. the bend in your elbow increases as your bodies get closer. paul's hand flexes as he bunches the dark fabric of your nightgown in his hands, pulling you just a hair closer. you shouldn't be this close to him. you've never been this close to a man before.
the energy is electrifying.
it buzzes through the air, pulsating between you both to the beat of your heart. you try to call on your learnings. you try to calm your heart in the most simple human ways, the ways your mother taught you before the reverend mother did.
paul licks his lips before he responds again. he takes a moment, he breathes, and you pull your eyes away from your hands to look at paul. the glowglobe hovering just behind you illuminates his face perfectly. it casts shadows where his curls lay over his forehead, it deepens the impressive hollow of his cheekbones. you can see how long his eyelashes are, and how colorful his eyes are. you're hyper-aware of the moles dotting his face, and the scar he has in his cheek.
you're even closer than you thought, but you like it.
"i found that ... pleasure can help you."
your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline before they fall back to their resting place and push together instead.
"pleasure?"
paul nods.
"how do you mean, my lord?"
his lips quirk up at the honorific and you suddenly feel silly for using it. paul doesn't mention it, though.
"when i'm alone in my room at night, in my own company—" the image enters your brain before you can fight it. paul on his back, his hand below his waist, his eyes heavy lidded and his breath even heavier. you swallow and clear your throat.
"it's like i can feel it wanting to come out of me. and the mornings after, when my mother makes me use it, it's easier."
you don't know how much truth exists in his words, and his suggestion, even if it has yet to be blantantly placed in front of you, is dangerous. it's stupid and risky. and yet, you find yourself drawn to it. that same pull that brought you to paul is bringing you to wanting him to lay out his invitation.
he does soon after.
"do you want to try it?"
you do. you really, really do.
"how would we do it?"
paul pulls you even closer to him and now your chests are touching. he's fighting back a smile, it's obvious in the way the skin around his lips dimples for a second before returning to neutrality. when he speaks, it's harder for him to hide it.
"i don't have to touch you if you don't want me to."
"i want you to." the admission slips from your mouth so quickly and so easily. it's a little embarrassing. your skin warms.
paul takes a moment. he stares at you, eyes flickering back and forth between yours. "okay," he finally says. his smile takes over the lower half of his face. "then i can touch you, and you have to focus, okay?"
you nod.
paul slinks his hand up your back, over your shoulder, and cups your cheek. he intertwines your fingers, your hands still suspended in the air, and he moves just a bit closer until his lips finally lay onto yours.
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girlactionfigure · 2 days
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THE HOLOCAUST WAS IN COLOUR
I woke up today in Jerusalem to the sound of a siren marking Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day. The fucking Holocaust. This thing that's there. This thing that every Jewish kid has to learn about far too young. There’s no good age to learn about it. It takes away an innocence whatever age you learn.
It's a lesson of: actually - the worst shit can happen.
Actually - the worst shit did happen.
Actually the worst shit could happen again.
There is no objective proof of God - but Auschwitz did happen. It’s difficult to remain idealistic about human beings after that. If tales of individual acts of heroism that emerged from the Holocaust are supposed to give us solace and an after-taste of hope, the bigger question is what is it that makes these tales such anomalies?? What is it that prevented every person from being a hero? And why did it happen in the first place?
Visiting Auschwitz ruined part of me. It really did. Even before visiting, all that bullshit ruined part of me. I remember seeing images on TV as a kid and that ain't healthy. To see ghouls hanging on barbed wire. Piles of skeleton and flesh. I don't see how it can't ruin anyone if that's you and your kind they were gunning for. The idea that people murdered you because you were born you. The idea that your fellow countrymen turned round and said: actually you're not one of us. Or turned a blind eye, buttoned up their lips, gazed down in silence and left you to deal with it on your own. It's not like this puts joy in your heart. It puts something in your heart that I can't explain. It puts in your heart the sensation that some people don't want your heart to beat. And that's a confusing feeling for any heart: a nexus of emotions. A paralytic, existential moment. The loneliest heart, scarred by barbed wire and frost.
The fact that I can only trace my family tree back a few generations has always gnawed at me. I can only go back so far and then there's nothing. Just a black hole. Part of my connection with planet earth has been blotted out for good. I've been disinherited of my roots - from knowing the specifics of who I am and where I come from.
A few years back I visited Auschwitz - this massive shithole in Poland. And it's not like this death factory could have been a secret. There's no way. People knew. It's huge. It just goes on and on. And there's something weird about it. And you can't quite figure it out. And then you realise - it's all in colour. It's not in black and white. The images we're used to seeing of Auschwitz are black and white. And as horrific as those images are they provide a safe, historical distance. It appears a bygone world far removed from us. But it's here in colour and it's the same world we inhabit. The same air, the same trees, the same rain falling. And the human beings would have been in colour too, with red blood cells and capillaries and hearts beating like ours. They weren’t creatures from yester-year, they were modern human beings with the same body parts and feelings. And they were murdered by modern human beings who also had the same body parts and who probably loved their children and kissed their partners goodnight.
There's more I could write. I could write about mountains of shoes. I could write about piles of hair. I could write about buttons and cutlery and possessions that emerge from the mud in the rain. I remember having a stupid back and forth in my mind over some buttons I found which I put back into the mud. I had this stupid thought that maybe I should have "liberated" the buttons rather than leave them in that shithole - but then thinking that would be stealing? But would it be stealing if they'd been stolen by scum and were now being "taken back" in a spirit of love and solidarity by someone on their side? “Liberating buttons.” Stupid stuff. Ridiculous thoughts that you can somehow do something correct to rectify what happened here and bring some kind of harmony. In the end I left them. The buttons were stolen and they don't belong to Auschwitz - but they belong to the memory of what happened there - so they can at least continue to speak from the mud to anyone who sees them.
If I'm honest, part of me wishes I hadn't visited the place. I came away angry and it killed any absolute faith I have in human beings. As I say, individual tales of heroism and defiance aren’t enough to justify true optimism. They're a plaster to cover up the deeper sickness of who and what we are as a species. There's something worrying about human beings and our capacity for cruelty. A species whose children pick the wings off flies, combined with a propensity to herd mentality, is dangerous. It should trouble all of us. I don't know how we overcome it, keep it restrained, or collectively channel it toward a universally agreed direction that’s aimed at goodness.
If I have one reflection on whatever nonsense it is I'm writing it's this: I think there's a violence in human beings. There is violence in the human soul. There is violence and there is cruelty. But more than that there is fear. Despite our songs and poems, I'm not sure love is the most powerful force on earth. There’s a strong argument to suggest fear is the primary driving force behind the actions of the animal we call a human being. It's fear of freezing to death that causes us to build shelters. It's fear of going hungry that causes us to stock food. It's fear of being ostracised that causes us to ostracise others. It's fear of ridicule that breeds conformity. It's fear that causes people to keep their heads down. And when the moment of danger comes? When the tyrants enter? When the bullies arrive? It's fear that causes people to not speak up. To turn a blind eye. To let someone else take the bullet. People can bombastically jump on the bandwagon and say "never again" but it’s tough to find your voice when face to face with a bully. People can say never again but it’s tough to square up if someone has raised their fist and shown they will use it. It’s tough to be brave when the moment comes and there's so many thoughts going through your mind and your brain and adrenalin decides it's best to shut down and stay quiet for the sake of self-preservation. It’s tough to do good things in this world because the bad things are loud and scary and intimidating. It’s tough for people to rise above fear. There’s a reason why heroes are called lone heroes. They’re uncommon.
That's why it's good to be writing this from Israel where Jews are once again in their ancestral home, the place they forged an indigenous civilisation many thousands of years ago before the Babylonians and Romans forced them into exile. A place where they can ensure that "Never Again" is not left in the hands of a species that pulls the wings off flies. Google the Evian Conference - visit Auschwitz yourself - survival is not a game to be left in the hands of others or based on the strength of promises. Because there's always a chance that when the chips are against you and you call out to friends or others for help, you could be left hanging around wondering when they'll arrive?
And the answer might be:
Never. Again.
So. Anyway. It's 5pm. I need a piss. Then I'll probably eat some bread. A siren went off this morning. Just one final thought before I have a wee. I say that any absolute faith I have in human beings is lost. And that's true. Yet every day I experience such joy at existing. I love walking about, talking to people and connecting with souls cut from the same cloth. I like nature and I like looking at things and if I didn't love science so much I'd probably be a new age nut hugging trees and trying to kiss ants. Being alive is the most beautiful thing I've experienced to date.
And as embarrassed as I am to say it would you look at me trying to finish on a positive note?
Maybe there is something stronger than fear?
The persistant impulse to seek blessings in a world full of curses. The sheer chutzpah of life. The defiance. Not to vanquish the darkness, but to live in spite of the darkness. I can handle a world where Auschwitz took place if I also get to live in a world where there are people I love. I can handle a world where there’s horror if I also get to laugh now and then. And the fact that love, laughter and happiness can blossom in a world where the worst can happen - and has - must count for something. Deep down the impulse to go in search of life’s blessings is within all of us. It’s part of who we are. It’s why we get up each morning. We have to have faith that all will be well even when logic, history and common sense says otherwise. Actually it’s not even a question of faith. We have no choice. I think hope is hardwired into all of us. Deeper than fear. We are a creature that hopes. And sometimes, with the right wind behind us, at the right tide, we make those hopes come true. Sometimes, if you will it, it is no dream.
Lee Kern
This was written in Jerusalem in 2015 on Yom HaShoah - Holocaust Memorial Day
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d6volution · 1 day
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I don't know if this has been done yet but...can I request Yandere!Jax f_cking the reader into submission?! With like.. possession and obsessive behaviors? I don't normally ask for stuff like this so feel free to ignore, if it doesn't tickle your fancy UwU
I'm debating on making this into a little yandere!jax series hmm...
anyways enjoy!
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tags: afab!reader x jax , choking, light oral, rough sex, possessive jax, cream pie.
Jax's eye twitched.
He was getting fed up with you, ever since you arrived here you've been acting like you run the damn place. That was his job.
Being stuck on his boat with you and the others wasn't making this ANY better. And it wasn't a very big boat, just a small speed boat big enough to fit everyone. Just barely.
For context, Caine sent you all off on another adventure, find the treasure before these nasty pirates do and blah blah blah whatever.
"Just hand over the map wouldja?" Jax extended his hand, still overly accustomed to getting his way.
"Yeah, and who put you in charge anyways little bunny??" You rolled up the map and poked the side of his head with it a few times before he rolled his eyes and gripped your arm, yanking you towards him.
"Watch it, doll face. Oh, and don't go running ta' Caine when your hand goes missin." He smirked and you jerked away from him.
"Wh.. Whatever just let me find our way to this stupid treasure so we can get out of here!"
Jax raised his hands in his defense, "Jeez when did women become so hostile, so much for docile and loving.."
"Jax I swear to god I'll shove your ass off this boat and make you swim back!"
"Oh yeah? Do it, .. I dare you." He stood up , making the boat rock a little and you followed suit. Gritting your teeth at his boldness.
Unfortunately your height made you look less intimidating, only reaching just beneath his shoulders.
"I'm going to wipe that stupid grin off of your face!" You basically tackled him and ... well, in the end you both fell over board.
Flash forward a few moments later and you both were soaked, sitting with your arms crossed like children as pomni and ragatha took over the map and guiding the boat.
"I hope you know your washing my clothes when we get back, toots."
You scoffed, "In your dreams."
The adventure wrapped up nicely, but you and Jax both opted out of the dinner to instead go dry yourselves off.
There was one problem though.. Jax passed his room and continued to follow you to yours.
"Just what do you think your doing?"
"You thought I was jokin' these clothes need quite the washing. You can't expect me to do it myself can ya?" He smirked, watching your face ball up as he belittled you right to your face.
"Buzz off, Jax I'm not doing your damn laundry."
You tried to rush into your room and slam the door but his foot caught it before you could, he pushed the door open without any regards to your safety causing the door to fly wide and open and you to fall onto your ass.
"Jax, you assh—"  You looked up , still frazzled from falling, and came almost  face to face with his crotch. He was still wet. Thus, his clothes were clinging to the large imprint in between his legs.
"See something ya like motor mouth?" He grinned and squats in front of you, causing you to hurry and scurry backward.
Your face was on fire.
"N.. No, just— would you help me up and get some dry clothes on!?"
"You're one to talk. it looks like your body doesn't like it when you lie to me." He rested his cheek on his palm, head tilting as he stared at your chest. Unfortunately, your clothes were sticking to your skin , and your nipples stiffened against the fabric, making it all too obvious that you were having more than innocent thoughts about him right now.
"Th.. That doesn't mean anything! I'm obviously cold!"
"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.. what's the deal anyways, scared I'll show you the time of your life?"
You laughed obnoxiously loud, "Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Oh, that probably sounded like an open invitation, didn't it— "Ah..!" Suddenly, you were falling backward, but you caught yourself by your elbows.
He was yanking your pants off, which wasn't easy considering that they were still very wet, your eyes darted from your pants to his crotch again, which was growing in size. You swallowed.
"W.. Wait, wait you prick!" You tried to sound more intimidating but it sounded like a helpless plea.
He sighed, "What now? You aren't chickening out, are ya?" He hoped not , he couldn't lose this chance now. This was just too good.. seeing you like this all scared and nervous it was doing something to him.
"O.. Of course not, I can do it myself.." He hummed in amusement, watching you with that shit eating grin.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck, what had you gotten yourself into? Even back in the human world, you only had sex like.. twice! And that was almost a year ago. But there was no way in hell you were telling him that.
You finally got the damn pants, .. and underwear off, still keeping your knees locked together.
"Good girl, so you can play nice." He grinned , your expression and sputtering made it clear that you were caught off guard by his praise. Too bad he doesn't plan on being nice himself from here on out.
He yanked you by your hips and immediately maneuvered your legs apart, he dove face first in between your legs and started lapping at your cunt without warning. His tongue was rough, long and warm.
The tip of his tongue nudged at your entrance. He was drunk on your taste already. Hell, if he'd give this up to anyone else.
You scrambled, but he was easily overpowering you, "J.. Jax, you.. bastard s.. staa..." You whined and tried to push his head away.
Clearly irritated he sat up and grabbed both your hands within his much larger ones, "Quit movin' or ill just fuck you without any prep, alright sweetheart?"
You stiffened up, fuck you can't let him win again. You puffed out your chest, which earned another grin from him. "S.. So what? I can take it, you think .. you think I'm scared or something?" You tried to challenge him, wondering if he'd call your bluff.
"Oh? Fine by me." He started to remove his overalls. Your heart was racing , breathe caught in your throat as his thick shaft flopped free from its confines, he was already lining it up with your cunt. "J.. Just do it! You scare—"
He gripped the fat of your thighs before he rammed into you, knocking the wind out of you. "Hn.. Hha—"
"What happened to all that talk, huh? .. fuck you're tight." He hunched over you and started to thrust into your warm cunt , slow and steady but you felt so full. It was definitely the lack of prep but you couldn't help but moan and whine in his ear as the painful drag of his cock made you feel absolutely dizzy.
"Hmm? Is this all ya needed, doll face? Some cock to calm ya down?" He chuckled and sharply thrusted against that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to yelp and wriggle beneath him.
"S.. Shut.. up.. hha.. fuck.." You sounded pathetic beneath, "c.. can't you do better than this?" Oh, you were digging your own grave here.
"Heh." He propped up your legs, your ankles nearly touching your ears. "Don't say I didn't warn ya, babe." His hips began to piston into your cunt which made a lewd wet and slapping sound, you were beyond aroused, juices coating his cock effortlessly. "Fuck, there we go.." He moaned into your ear.
You could hardly speak, gripping at his back as he relentlessly attacked your cervix with the tip of his cock. "pl.. please...!" You didn't know what you were begging for.
"Please what, huh? Screwin' with me all day, pushing me into the.. fuck— damn water. you deserve this." He panted, and sat up , putting a little bit of space between you before grabbing your throat. Placing just the right amount of pressure to get you tightening up around him even more.
He honestly did this just for kicks, just to see that scared expression again.
"Gettin' off to be choked too, what a slut. Nngh.. it's fine though, ya know why doll?"
He leaned back down, his hips never ceasing to move. Your foreheads touched, "Because you're all mine now. C.. Can't let this tight cunt slip away from me.. mnh.."
He knows you wouldn't even be able to leave if you tried. You're stuck here with him forever.
You whimpered and pleaded pathetically, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much, it felt too good. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure. "J–Jax.. gonna..!" You gasped, and he finally removed his hand.
"That's right cum on my cock babe, fuck." He grunted and used his free hand to rub circles onto your clit, pushing you over the edge immediately.
You yelled his name in pleasure, legs shaking and cunt siezing around him. It made you too tight, causing him to blow his load inside of you, "Shit.."
He slowly pulled out and a few more ropes of cum spilled onto your stomach.
Jax looked at you, all fucked out and barely able to keep your eyes open. He couldn't let anyone else see you like this.
Ever.
Unbeknownst to you, Jax just latched himself onto you. It'd be hard to rid of him after this.
It was like a coil snapped inside of him.
He stared at your for a long while, you were half asleep so you didn't exactly notice.
"Hey, toots." He gently slapped your cheek.
"C'mon.. we both need a shower. We can take care of the clothes later, yeah?"
"Huh, shower.. together..? n-no that's—"
"Ya really pulling that card right now? For all you know I could've just knocked you up, now c'mon."
The bunny pulled you onto your wobbly legs and into the bathroom to clean up.
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Text
First Impressions • Jongho Choi
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Jongho x fem!reader
summary• for your first date jongho takes you to a karaoke place a few minutes from your house. It starts normal as you both take turns singing to certain songs and laughing over small talk. But soon the pent-up sexual frustration starts to catch up to the both of you. 
warnings• Smut, exhibitionism, pet names (babydoll, doll, babygirl, sir), dom! Jongho, sub! reader, thigh riding, nipple play (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), throat fucking, chocking, facial (and I'm not talking about a sheet mask), unprotected sex, overstimulation, rough sex (let me know if I missed something). 
videos/audios to view before reading• 
wc• 5.1k 
a/n• Guys big news!!! I'M GOING TO GO SEE ATEEZ!!!!! Never been so happy in my life 😭. But back to the smut lol. Let's say the direction of this one was going to be a bit different but I'm a slut so lmao. It was supposed to be cute but 💀. I have been wanting to do a Jongho smut for a while now and here we are. I tried to keep it short but you know me, everything has to be detailed :): anyway enjoy sweethearts 💜masterlist💜
taglist 💜 @joongss @mingisdoll @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @sanipan @no1likevie @woohwababes @hongjoongswife1 @blackb3ll @staytiny23 @ccalyse @strawberry-qrcode
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“Hello? Jongho? I’m at the entrance. I’m wearing a black skirt and a black and white T-shirt,” you said into the phone waiting for someone to answer. “I’m almost there! I promise, just give me a few seconds,” Jongho said in a breathy tone. Was he running? You thought to yourself before responding. “Okay! No rush! I will be here until you get here.” The air was foggy and slightly cold causing you to breathe in sharply. The wind blew across your bare legs sending goosebumps throughout your whole body. You looked up at the moon, seeing it shine against one of the wet puddles on the ground. All you heard was the wind whistling and the faint sound of music coming from the karaoke bar. 
“Jongho?” You said into the phone concerned that he hung up. “Yes y/n,” you heard a voice respond from behind, causing you to jump. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear knowing that it was Jongho. You turned around quickly and pulled him into a hug. You rose to your tippy toes to reach your arms around him and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your arms were around his neck and your head was nuzzled into his neck. You both have been talking online for a while but this was the first time you both met in person. Y’all’s relationship started mutual but it soon became something more when you both started to video call. The video calls would last for hours and there were times when you would fall asleep on the phone together. This moment was surreal for both of you. 
“You look gorgeous, this outfit looks so good on you.” You heard Jongho express, causing you to blush. You couldn’t help but look at his outfit as well. He had on a black turtleneck that was covered by a cream top coat. He wore black jeans that shaped his thighs perfectly and black shoes that were polished to a T. The glasses he wore complement his frame, making you ponder the shape of his face. The watch that he wore rested on his wrist insinuating his hands, making you think about places he could happily touch you at. “Y/n?” You were suddenly broken out of your trance and brought back into reality. “You look cold, let’s go inside hmm?” You nodded in agreement flashing him a gummy smile causing him to smile back. 
You walked into the building and saw that the place had a neon-forward theme. Everything in the building was black but the wall art was bright neon. Jongho grabbed your hand and guided you to the front desk. “2 hours please,” he said swiftly, taking out his wallet to pay. “It looks like you have a singing partner this time Mr. Choi,” the receptionist said, flashing you a cheeky smile. You remember Jonho telling you that he was a local at this karaoke bar and came twice a week. It was cute to see that people knew Jongho very well to the point where they could playfully tease him at times. Jongho rolled his eyes and shook his head, taking a door sign that indicated that someone was in the room. 
“Could we please get Soju, pretzels, and candy sent to the room please?” The receptionist just nodded and Jongho grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. “I always get the same room. It’s in the back but I like it like that. I sing kinda loud,” you chuckled softly at his confession and squeezed his hand causing him to look down at you. “But who wouldn’t want to hear my Jongho-ah’s beautiful voice?” You said in an annoyingly cute voice causing Jongho to cringe. You loved annoying him. It was so cute when he was obviously irritated. “Already claiming me huh?” Jongho asked as he opened the door to the karaoke booth, guiding you inside. You looked at how dark but illuminated the room was. There were purple and blue neon lights hanging from the ceiling casting off a cool hue. To the left there was a huge TV mounted onto the wall and to the right there was a black leather couch and a marble table. “Only if you claim me Jongho,” you replied, bopping his nose with your finger. All Jongho could do at that moment was smile to himself and set up the room. 
After a while Soju and snacks came to the door and you both started to indulge yourselves. Throughout the first hour, you both laughed hysterically at funny stories and jokes that you told one another. Jongho and you sang duet songs together as you downed multiple bottles of soju. You could feel the alcohol but it felt like Jonho didn’t. The environment was very laid back and you got to see a different side of Jongho. He was serious most of the time but it was nice to see him goof around a bit. The idea of Jongho being a huge softie made you fall in love with him even more. You felt really comfortable in Jongho’s presence and it made your personality shine through to him. 
“One more shot to a successful first date?” You proposed pouring 2 shots of soju. Jongho looked up at you and flashed you a gummy smile, nodding his head in agreement. You poured the liquor to the brim of the shot glasses and got up from the couch. You walked over carefully to Jongho, making sure you didn’t spill any alcohol on the ground. He looked up at you and reached for the glass but you quickly moved your hand away. In response, he raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the side in confusion. “I would like to take a seat first,” you expressed looking at the contours of his body. Jongho leaned back onto the couch, his hands resting on his thighs. His hand then slid to the spot next to him. “Then take a seat,” he said, patting the fabric of the couch next to him. You giggled at how oblivious he was to the situation but wanted to play along. “I’d rather sit here Jongho,” you said as you turned your back towards him and proceeded to sit on his lap. Jongho grabbed onto your waist making sure you didn’t fall as you came down to sit on top of his right thigh. 
He spread his legs wider so you could place your legs in the middle of his thighs. He wrapped his right arm around your waist, squeezing onto your right thigh. He grabbed one of the shots out of your left hand and lifted his glass to cheers. You clink your glass against his, causing some of the liquor to spill a bit. You both pressed the glass up to your lips and threw your heads back, letting the liquor run down your throats. You took Jongho’s glass and placed both shots on the table. You wrapped your left arm around his shoulder, placing your hand on the back of his head. You then laid your other hand on his chest, your fingertips lightly tapping against it. A lot of thoughts were going on in your head at the moment. Should I kiss him? Is he ready for that? Is this too soon? Will he think of me differently after this? 
“Y/n?” Jongho’s words broke you out of your trance. “You are overthinking again babydoll.” Your heart fluttered at the new name he gave you. “It’s just me and you here, if you want something just tell me,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear with his left hand. You paused for a moment, looking down to figure out what to say. “What if that something is you?” you questioned, looking him in his eyes. Jongho smiled and broke eye contact with you, looking to the side. He was obviously flustered as you watched him take a deep breath. You saw him bite his bottom lip making you wonder what was going through his head. 
Jongho then turned to you and stared at you causing you to stare back. “You can have me,” he abruptly said before you could react his lips pressed against yours. An electric shock ran through your body and to your core as his lips suddenly attached to yours. You felt him squeeze his fingers tighter on your thigh, pulling you closer to his body. You moaned into the kiss as his other hand slowly moved up your skirt, caressing your inner thigh. Your hand entangled into his hair, pushing his lips closer to yours. Your other hand was gripping onto his biceps, squeezing softly every time he got close to your core. The kisses became intense causing you to move your hips back and forth involuntarily. You were so needy and Jongho could tell. 
You ran your tongue against the entrance of his lips, making him part them to let you in. Your tongues danced against each other causing you to whimper softly. In response, Jonho smirked into the kiss and squeezed your thigh. You tried your hardest not to moan too loud because of the thin walls but you couldn’t help it. The way that Jongho was kissing you made your heartbeat move rapidly and your core tingle. You could tell that he was enjoying it just as much as you were by the way he was holding onto you tight. You felt safe in his grasp, forgetting that you were in a karaoke booth. 
Jongho then lifted you by your waist and sat you down on his thigh. Each of your thighs was on either side of his right thigh, your core making direct contact with him. You hiked up your skirt making sure there was full contact with his thigh. You placed your hands on his shoulders as Jongho placed his hands under your skirt, firmly placing it against the skin on your waist. He started to play with the hem of your underwear as you pulled him closer for another kiss. You were both silent but you could tell that you were both on the same page. Jongho flashed a smile at you and reached for the remote that was by him. He clicked the play button and started to play a song to muffle the sounds that both of you would be making. He then placed the remote down as the song started to play, his hands moving back to your waist. 
Both of your lips collide again causing you to move your hips back and forth on his thigh. You could feel a wet spot form on Jongho’s pants as you started to please yourself on top of him. You moaned into the kiss as his hands pressed you harder onto him. You begin to bite onto his bottom lip, feeling overwhelmed by his touch and how he was handling you. You pulled away, lust filling your eyes and excitement filling Jongho’s. You both smiled and chuckled softly as you continued. Broken moans would escape your mouth as you felt your swollen core slide against his strong thigh. You couldn’t help but grip onto his shoulder tighter and throw your head back. “You're such a doll, does that feel good?” Jongho asked as he watched how pretty you looked straddling yourself on top of his thigh. You moaned in agreement looking back at him. “Yes Jongho, so good,” you breathed trying hard not to be too loud. He smirked at your response, watching you come undone on top of his thigh. 
You then felt his other hand slide underneath your shirt, his fingertips making contact with your stomach. His hand then rose to your lace bra, cupping your breast. Without hesitation, you reached for your bra, unhooking it. You removed your arms from the straps and let it fall on the floor. You grabbed onto Jongho’s face, kissing him passionately as you continued to rock your hips back and forth. His hands lingered throughout your body until he made direct contact with your breast again. You then felt the sensation of him rubbing his thumbs on each nipple. You pulled away from the kiss and threw your head back, moaning in ecstasy. Jongho then took this as an invitation to lift your shirt a bit, just to see how pretty you looked exposed to him. 
You suddenly felt his tongue lap across your left nipple, sending a shock throughout your body. You instantly looked down and watched as Jongho flicked his tongue repeatedly over your nipple. “Fuck,” you moaned, pulling his head closer to you. He then placed his thumb on your other nipple, watching how you reacted to his actions. You continued to ride his thigh as he sucked on your nipple, causing your core to tighten. You tugged onto his hair tightly as he swirled his tongue on your nipple. “Jongho,” you gasped as you felt him alternate from flicking and sucking on your sensitive bud. The feeling of him playing with your nipples and your clit rubbing against his thigh made you embarrassingly close. “Jongho, baby, I’m close,” you breathed, trying your best not to be loud. He then felt for the TV remote and turned up the volume. He then pressed you down firmly on his thigh, causing you to grind harder. 
You looked down at Jongho and he looked up at you. The sight of him under you and sucking your nipple sent you into overdrive. “Cum for me princess,” Jongho demanded, watching how helpless you looked as you were close to releasing. “Jong-!” you screamed, feeling the knot in your core pop, causing you to cum all over his thigh. Your body shook involuntarily and you couldn’t help but squeeze onto Jongho. Your head fell into the crock of his neck and you started to whimper slightly. Your heart was racing and so was your mind. You felt Jongho’s hand rub your back gently. You felt Jongho lift you back up again, making you straddle his waist. All you could feel was his dick pressed against your wet core. 
You lifted your head and looked at the cheeky smile that was on Jongho’s face. You couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at how he was looking at you. Jongho then pressed his lips against yours and moved your hair away from your face. “You’re okay baby,” he reassured you, kissing you on your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was towards you. The way he was treating you made you feel special. But his hard cock pressed against your core made you want him to ruin you. 
You then slid down to your knees, looking up into his eyes. “Is this alright?” you asked, hovering your hands over the buckle of his belt. “Absolutely,” he said, nodding eagerly, his eyes darting from your hands to your face. You took his belt in your hands and unbuckled it, looking at the bulge that formed in his pants. Your hands got ahold of his pants button, undoing them swiftly. You then pulled down the zipper, your hand grazing against his print. Jongho then lifted himself and moved his pants down slightly. Once he sat down you reached for the hem of his underwear and pulled down. You were shocked as you saw Jongho’s dick pop out of his underwear. His dick was girthy and his head was huge, it was the biggest you have ever seen. 
You looked up and you could tell that Jongho was ready and you didn't want him to wait any longer. You held his hard dick in your hands, pondering the shape and size of it. You then looked into his eyes as you stroked him with one hand. Your hands barely fit around the circumference of his cock. He looked at you as he bit his bottom lip, staring at how beautiful you looked on your knees. You opened your lips and guided his dick to your mouth. Your tongue touched the tip of his dick first before you closed your mouth around it. You hummed softly at the taste of his precum on your tongue, followed by sucking around his swollen head. You went down slowly, letting his dick fill your mouth. You watched as Jongho’s facial expressions changed as you forced your head down his shaft. You watched his lips part and his eyebrows scrunch lightly together. You both were making direct eye contact as you bobbed your head up and down his dick. 
You rubbed his left thigh softly as you picked up the pace, your throat making a filthy squelching noise. You started to go faster, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. This caused Jongho to involuntarily rest his hand on the back of your head. You watched as he gripped onto the coach and tilted his head back. “Holy shit,” Jongho breathed, pushing your head down slightly. This made you moan against his dick in response. Jongho was strong and you could tell he didn’t want to hurt you. But at this moment you wanted him to use you like a slut. You started to suck slowly, catching the attention of Jongho. You then swiftly grabbed both of his hands, making his fingers run through your hair. You then forced both of his hands into a fist, causing your hair to be pulled into a ponytail. You slowly removed your mouth from Jonghos dick and whispered, “I want you to use me, force me down your dick baby.” His eyes grew wide at your request, his dick twitching in response. “Show me who I belong to,” you demanded before putting his dick back into your mouth. 
You forced him down your throat, letting your saliva run down the sides of your mouth. You brought your head back up and looked up at Jongho. He saw that as a signal to push your head back down onto his dick. You kept direct eye contact with him as he pushed you down, his dick touching the back of your throat. He then lifted your head back up by your hair and forced you down again. You moaned in response as he used your throat. He then started to slowly pick up the pace, carefully watching that he didn’t hurt you. He started to moan loudly, feeling your mouth close tightly around his cock. He then pressed your head down faster and harder, testing how much you could take of him. He watched as strings of saliva connected from your mouth to his dick. 
You squeezed onto Jongho’s thighs tighter, bracing yourself for what he might do next. He picked up the pace more to the point where your nose started to hit his pelvic bone. You watched as he threw his head back and started to thrust into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan and reach for your soaked core. You started to lap circles around your clit as Jongho fucked your mouth. “Fuck, I can hear you playing with your pussy,” he groaned, gripping tighter onto your hair. “Babydoll, you’re going to make me cum,” he moaned, removing his hands from your hair. You kept up the pace he made, letting his dick slide repeatedly down your throat. “Good girl, just like that,” he grunted, watching how you sucked him. “Keep going baby,” he demanded, looking into your eyes. “I’m about to cum fuck,” he moaned, gripping onto the coach. You felt some of his cum leak from his tip and into your mouth. You then removed your mouth and continued to stroke him with your hands. You stuck out your tongue and let his cum drip onto your face. Jongho moaned loudly as he watched his cum cover your cheeks and mouth. You licked your lips and allowed some of his cum into your mouth, swallowing it. You then took his tip, licking it clean. 
Jongho was in complete shock at the sight of you like this. This caused you to smile at him and giggle, him smiling in return. He then grabbed a napkin from the table behind you and started to wipe your face. “I can’t believe we did that,” Jongho said, followed by a chuckle. “I can’t either, but it was good,” you responded, looking up at him with a smile. “Good is an understatement. If that was considered good I bet being inside of you is 10 times better.” The room fell silent at Jongho’s words. You looked up at him as he continued to wipe your face dry. “How about you fuck me right now and tell me if it feels better than good,” Jongho’s lips formed into a smirk at your words. You watched as he thought carefully about the next thing he was going to say. “Could you wait till we got back to your place babydoll?” He asked, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. In response, you pouted and shook your head in disagreement. “You want me to fill you up that bad baby?” He teased, leaning down, becoming face-to-face with you. “Such a naughty girl for wanting me to fuck you in here. Come show me what you want baby,” he whispered before laying back on the couch, watching your every move. 
You then got up from your knees and stood right in front of him. You kept direct eye contact with Jongho as your fingers wrapped around the hem of your panties. You slowly started to pull down your panties, watching Jongho’s eyes dart from your body to your eyes. Your panties then fell to the floor and your juices from your soaked core started to drip down your thigh. You walked towards Jongho and he grabbed you by the waist, guiding you on top of him. You placed your thighs on either side of his waist, straddling him once again. This time the shaft of his hard dick was making direct contact with your wet pussy. Jongho could feel how soaked you were which caused him to inhale sharply. “You’re soaked for me aren’t you baby?” He asked, his lips attaching to your neck. Your hands immediately went to the back of his head, pressing him closer. Your fingers entangled into his hair as he started to bite softly on your skin. “Yes sir,” you moaned, throwing your head back. “I love when you call me that babydoll,” he expressed against your skin, squeezing your ass with his hands. You started to involuntarily sway your hips back and forth, your folds rubbing against his shaft. “Are you ready baby?” He asks as he pulls away from your neck, looking at you directly into your eyes. “Yes baby, of course. I have been ready all night,” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing him delicately. 
You then lined up Jongho’s dick with your entrance. You rubbed his tip against your entrance to prepare the both of you. You inserted Jongho’s tip into you, both of you gasping at the new feeling. You then lowered yourself down onto his dick, looking into his eyes as you did it. You could feel Jongho stretching you out, making you clench around him more. His girth was making it hard for you to stay balanced, you could feel your knees buckling. You anchored your hands onto Jongho’s shoulders and he held onto your waist. You slowly went up and down and felt his dick stretch you out again, causing a moan to escape your lips. Jongho’s hands moved to your ass and rubbed it softly, encouraging you to proceed when you were ready. You were overwhelmed with the feeling of his dick deep inside you but you wanted to please him. 
You started to bounce up and down slowly, making direct eye contact as you did so. “Fuck, your really tight babydoll,” his words made you spiral. You couldn’t help but claw at his shoulder and attack his lips with yours. You started to bounce faster, feeling his dick kiss your cervix. Your hands were entangled in his hair, tugging at it softly. Your pussy was soaked but he was still stretching you out drastically. Jongho then started to thrust against you as you rode him, giving you a new sensation that sent you into overdrive. You placed your hands on his knees and threw your head back, feeling how deep he was into you. Jongho’s hands gripped onto your waist, holding you steady as you bounced on top of him. He looked at how sexy you looked like this, you were sweet and innocent on the phone but now you looked completely different. Your top was raised showing your breast to him and your skirt was barely on because the button broke on the side. “Damn,” he grunted as you looked down at him, he looked so fascinated by you. 
You then suddenly got up off him, causing him to look confused. You then turned around and Jongho separated his legs so you could lower yourself onto him again. Jongho helped line himself up with your entrance as you sat on top of him. You held onto his thighs on both sides of your body and started to ride him again. He moaned and grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly. He watched as his dick slid in and out of your soaking core. Watching your juices cover his dick completely. “Just like that baby,” he moaned, slapping your ass and leaving a mark. You were in ecstasy as you heard him moan your name. You felt his dick twitch inside of you, causing you to clench around him tighter. Jongho repeatedly slapped your ass as you continued to ride him like this, causing a red handprint to form on your skin. You suddenly felt Jongho’s fingers circle your sensitive clit, making you moan his name. Your pussy started to spaz around his dick at the stimulation that was running throughout your body. His fingers were running rapidly on your clit as you continued to ride him. Your moans and grunts filled the room as you both pleased each other. Your riding was getting sloppy as you started to get tired and Jongho could tell. 
With one swift movement, Jongho swung you around and pinned you against the couch. He intertwined his fingers with yours and looked at you with desperation. The blue and purple lights casted a shadow over your body and illuminated Jongho perfectly. He started to kiss your neck, thrusting softly into you. Jongho was deep inside you and hitting spots you never thought existed. You were so drunk off of him and so was he. This whole scenario almost felt unreal, almost like a dream. You started to whine involuntarily at the feeling of Jongho picking up the pace. “Jongho,” you moaned, gripping onto his hands tighter. “I love it when you moan my name,” he whispered in your ear, thrusting harder into you. Jongho then rose up from your neck and watched you as he fucked you into the couch. You could feel him start to thrust into you faster and harder causing broken moans to escape your lips. He was stretching you out repeatedly which caused you to clench around him tighter. He was hitting your g-spot repeatedly causing your eyes to roll back and your nails to dig into his hands. Jongho was moaning and grunting with every thrust into you. His hair was damp and was sticking against his face. He watched as you became undone under his grasp, making it hard for him not to cum. Your moans filled the air and pierced through the walls. 
The karaoke music suddenly stopped but Jongho did not. “Let them hear you, baby,” He grunted, thrusting into you faster. Without thought you did what you were told, continuing to moan. You were so overwhelmed with the idea of him wanting people to hear you, causing you to become even more soaked. Your walls started to quiver around him, you were so close but you didn’t want him to stop fucking you. “Holy fuck, Jongho baby. I’m going to cum!” You screamed, letting everyone know who was pleasing you. He watched as your eyebrows scrunched together and your lips parted. He then leaned down and started to kiss your neck again “Cum all over me babydoll,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He continued to thrust deep into your soaked pussy, causing the slapping noise to echo throughout the room. “I’m so happy you are mine,” he expressed, sending you over the edge. 
You felt your walls clench around him as you came. “Jongho!” you screamed, your pussy quivering around him. Your body started to shake but Jongho kept fucking you. “F-fuck!” you yelled, arching your back at the overstimulation. “That’s my girl,” he breathed, his dick twitching inside of you. “Where do you want me to cum baby?” he asked in desperation, trying to hold back until you answered. You were speechless but managed to breathe out an answer, “Cum in me, p-please.” Without hesitation, Jongho looked into your eyes as he filled you up. Jongho continued to thrust into you, moaning your name as you felt his warm liquid coat your walls. He was trying hard not to break you as he pounded into you roughly. He desperately wanted to keep fucking you until you both came again, but you both knew he had to stop. He was thrusting slowly until he came to a complete stop. You both kissed eachother passionately as Jongho held onto you tight. You both tried to catch your breath and process what just happened. 
Jongho pulled out of you slowly and got up to grab some napkins off the table. You saw his cum run down his shaft before he wiped himself off. He then spread your legs and attempted to clean you off completely. “Damn I’m sorry, there is a lot,” he chucked grabbing more napkins off the table. You couldn’t help but laugh at his shocked expression and apologetic tone. “I love you,” you expressed causing Jongho to stop in his tracks. Jongho smiled from ear to ear before speaking, “I love you too,” he replied, looking into your eyes. Your heart was fluttering and you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing. Jongho lifted you up and put you in a seated position before grabbing your bra and panties off the ground to hand them to you. “Round two at home?” Jongho asked, a smile forming on his face. “Absolutely,” you giggled. 
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pa1n-0f-l0ve · 1 day
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୨ৎ : sub!Bill (switch), First person fem POV, spanking, pillow humping, caught masturbating, blow job
୨ৎ: Dogs Unleashed
Since the cabinets looked slightly empty I had decided to leave the black haired beauty in my bed while I went grocery shopping.
The trip didn’t last as long as I thought it would and before I knew it, I was home. I started unloading the groceries one by one into the cabinets until I was Finished. I marched my way up the stairs and noticed the door slightly cracked from when I previously left. An obvious sign that Bill hadn’t been up yet.
The sight I saw had me appalled. From the crack of the door I saw Bill on top of my pillow, his milk colored thighs on each side as his tiny waist grind against it. His mouth fell open as he released little moans and whimpers of pleasure every time he pushed his penis against the pillow rougher and rougher.
I knew Bill had raging hormones of course and he was a guy - obviously he gets off, but I didn’t think it would be this… erotic. The more I watched the more the familiar place between my thighs tingled and swelled. Suddenly everything felt hot and itchy, too restrictive.
His black spaghetti strap tanktop clinging tight as possible to his beautiful skin, the strap slightly falling off his shoulder as he moved faster like a dog in heat. His tattoos on full display as he desperately tried to cum.
His pale thighs and legs were adorned with knee high socks with three black stripes at the top. I had always admired his androgyny, but this was driving me crazy.
Once he reached his release he fell to the side in exhaustion. His breathing heavy as he sat on the edge of the bed. As I observed his face I saw a flash of guilt and embarrassment hit him.
Clearing my throat to make my presence known I say, “Bill…”
The boy jumps slightly, face flushed, plump lips with small drops of blood from his constant lip biting.
“I- I-I’m sorry! I Just.. had a dream and needed to get off! I- please don’t tell anyone! Don’t make fun of me! I’m so sorry.” He exclaims frantically as tears fall down his face.
“Bill.. I’m not mad at you at all. Actually… it was kind of attractive.” I smirk.
“Rea- really? I thought you’d be mad I made a mess..” he says shocked.
Bill wasn’t a bottom. He was a switch. Sometimes he felt more dominant or more submissive. And oh did his submissive side drive me crazy.
“How about I help you Billa…” I say with a mischievous look.
I sit beside the pale boy on the bed, bending him over in my lap. I slightly rub his butt and his thighs to soothe him for the spanking that’s about to come. I didn’t want to overdue the spanking because it was never in a punishment way for us. It was just to feel good.
I lifted my hand spanking the poor boy over my lap. He jolted frantically as soon as my hand connected with the back his of pale thighs. He still had on his cropped tanktop and those cute little thigh high socks on. He only received 4 more spanks and when he did he was thrusting around in my lap whimpering. That little masochist.
“Oh Bill… what am I going to do with you..?” I breathe, taking his aching erect cock into my hand. “I’m gonna make you feel so good sweet boy..” I whisper, kissing up and down his thighs.
I see him take a big swallow of nerves. Poor thing. I have no Moment of hesitation and shove his dick straight into my mouth while I look up at him with big eyes. His pale face flushes scarlet - his mouth agape as the pleasure gets to him.
I use my hands for the rest of him I couldn’t get into my mouth. Moving my tiny hands up and down in a fast pace as I bob my mouth around his veiny length taking him as much as possible. His tip hits the back of my throat and he lets out a very loud moan.
“Hm.. hmm…I- ple- please! Let me, let me, let me! I’ll do anything please let me cum.. I’m about too..” he pleads, unable to control his neediness.
While his precum leaks down my throat I pinch his little thighs to tease him. Just to give him one last spark I fondle his balls and make my pace faster, before I knew it his all familiar seed was shot into my mouth.
“Fuck. That was.. amazing.. thank you so much doll” he breathes out, chest heaving from his two orgasms.
With a quirked eyebrow I reply, “You’re welcome… maybe next time I should be the one on bottom…”
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purple-writer8 · 2 days
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I Know Places - ACOTAR
Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader
“They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.”
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warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers, angst, beron slander (as he deserves)
1.1k words
Part Two to But Daddy I Love Him
Masterlist :)
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Your father had struck you across your face. He killed you. Killed you and killed your happiness. You thought he would understand, that he would let you marry Rhysand and you would be happy. What a fool you were to think Beron would ever allow you free will. “I’m sorry, darling,” your mother had been comforting you for hours now. 
 Your head rested on her lap as she weaved her fingers through your dirty blonde hair. “How can he be like this? Why doesn’t he want me to be happy?” You cried softly, your hands gripping your mother’s skirts with a white-knuckle grip. 
 “He… well, he loves you… he means well…” she trembled as she spoke, and you knew that she did not mean that. “How can you say that, mother? Means well? He struck me three times…” you sobbed unto her lap, your heart aching for one person— your lover. 
“Darling, I know he is… unorthodox in his ways, but he cares about your future.” You sat up from your stance when she spoke those words, rage flaring inside your body at her claims. "Cares about my future?! How can you say that after what he did?" You spat angrily, your hands burning with your fire that was just begging to be let out. 
"Rhysand is a bad man... his court... it's a nightmare. There are no morals there. He is a cruel, wicked man, just like his father," your mother contested. You could tell that she was distressed, just like you could tell how abused she was by your father, how she feared him even when he was not around. 
"Do you think I am daft, mother?" You asked quietly. 
"No, honey. You are just youn-" You cut her off. 
"Do you think I don't know, mother? You think I haven't seen how beaten he leaves Eris after he makes a small mistake? You think I haven't seen how he eggs Fenix on to compete with Eris constantly? How he beats each of my brothers into oblivion? You think I don't know what happened to Jesminda and Lucien?" You were erratic, trying to get her to understand that you were no longer a child. 
Your eyes drifted to her arms, covered by her long sleeved dress, "you think I don't know what he does to you?" 
The Lady of Autumn stilled, her face falling as she stared at you solemnly. "I have tried to protect you... Eris has tried. Even Beron has tried. Our reality is not perfect, but your father loves you, and he wants to protect you." 
"I don't need protection, mother. I am not a child anymore... I am a female grown... and I want Rhys, and he wants me." You stated in an unwavering manner. 
"You must understand that Rhysand is not a good man, honey. The Night Court is the worst place to be, the fae there are deranged and depraved," your mother countered. 
You knew there was darkness in the Night Court, but you also knew there was light. So much light. You saw it, Rhys had shown you. But you could never say that, you had promised to keep Velaris a secret, and you would. "There must be good there, mother. I know there must," you stated softly. 
When she did not answer, you said, "he loves me and he would never hurt me. I deserve him, and he deserves me. I wish to be happy." 
She blinked and wiped her hands on her skirts, shaking her head, "your father has made up his mind, it is time you come to terms with that. We are Vanserras, it is the hand we were dealt." With that, the Lady of Autumn left your chambers, sending you further into despair. So, just because you were a Vanserra you had to deal with abuse and unhappiness? 
You would let your family say what they wanted, but you wouldn't hear it. Loose lips sunk ships all the time, but not this time. Left to your own devices, you decided you wouldn't put up with your father's abuse. You rushed to your vanity and rummaged through the cabinet that held all of your trinkets until you found it. 
A mirror.  A beautiful sapphire encrusted mirror given to you by Rhys a few months back. You reached for your red tube of lipstick and wrote on the glass, Come and get me. It was an enchanted mirror, made for the two of you to communicate through it, since he could not reach you in Autumn. You set the mirror down and waited, hoping that your lover hadn't shoved his own mirror in a drawer and forgotten about it. 
You spent the day pacing back and forth in your chambers, hands trembling as you constantly checked the mirror for a reply back. Rhys, please, you pleaded in your mind. 
"I love it when you beg," you let out a happy shriek when your lover appeared in the middle of your room, having winnowed in suddenly. You jumped into Rhys's arms, snaking your own over his neck and pulling him in. His arms slithered around your waist, holding you steady as you held on to him for dear life. 
"Thank the Cauldron," you cried happy tears, ready for him to take you away from this cage. Rhys pulled away and inspected your figure, his violet eyes turning dark, his thumb grazing over the bruising on your cheek as he growled, "Beron." 
A tear slipped down your cheek, a tear he collected with his thumb, "you won't ever suffer under your father again." 
"I just want to go with you," you sniffed, leaning your head against his hand as he cupped your cheek. The door to your chambers opened swiftly, "sister, I've brought you suppe-" 
Eris dropped the plate when he saw the High Lord of Night holding you close, his expression turning into steel. You yelped and clung to Rhys for dear life as your older brother sent fire bolts his way-- bolts that bounced off the shield Rhysand had put up around the two of you. "It doesn't have to be like this," Rhysand told your brother in a sing-song voice. 
"Let her go! This is a breach! This means war, Rhysand." Eris growled and you could only shake your head. "I'm sorry," was what you said before Rhys winnowed the two of you away. 
As you were winnowed into a manor-- in the Night Court, you assumed-- you fell to your knees, loud sobs leaving your body. Rhys was quick to kneel with you, taking your trembling hands in his. "This is what you want?" He asked in a soft tone. 
You nodded, "for me it's always you. It's only you, but... I'll miss Eris."
"I know, lovely. But this is the only way." 
"I know." You said, standing up with his help. 
A feline smile spread on his face as he motioned to the starry and gorgeous view outside the balcony he had winnowed into, "Welcome to the Night Court." 
-
Author’s note:
Part three of her meeting th IC and fluff? ALSO THANK YOU SM FOR THE COMMENTS ON PART ONEEEEE i am bursting with love
General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @x-reader-x @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143
Series Taglist: @minaethrym @cherry-cin @acourtofimagines @slytherintaco @mp-littlebit @misskennygirl @umgatochamadopercyval @nayaniasworld @tenaciousperfectionunknown
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