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dragon-kazansky · 25 days

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Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

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Season one

Chapter Two - Empty drawing rooms

♡♡♡

Your mother does not keep her thoughts to herself about what dancing with Benedict Bridgerton may have done for you. All evening, even after you are home, she continues on and on about the thought of having callers come morning.

You sleep easy that night. You do not think one dance with a man, you will be unlikely ever to cross paths again with, will affect your prospects all that much.

You're woken by the violent pulling of your curtains. Light floods into your room and cascades across your bed. You sigh softly as you force your eyes open and push yourself up into a sitting position.

"Get up! We must get you dressed and ready!" Your mother eagerly exclaims.

You're forced from your bed and urged into the tub. You're scrubbed raw from head to toe. Your hair is brushed surely a hundred times. You dress, and your mother chooses a necklace to compliment your gown.

Before you know it, you're sitting in the drawing room with her. Your mother has tea and biscuits made.

The drawing room is quiet.

Occasionally, a carriage is heard passing the house. Sometimes you hear the footsteps of staff coming and going outside the door. Not a single sound of knocking is heard.

Your mother becomes restless as the hours pass. "I was certain Mr Bridgerton dancing with you would garner some attention."

"Mother, it was one dance. Anyway, people had their eyes on his sister. No one was looking at us. He barely spoke to me." You tell her, picking up a book you had placed on the table earlier that morning.

"Still, that family is well known and wealthy too. People should always be watching those lf well breeding." She sighs.

You dare not comment further and focus on your book. You've read two chapters before your mother calls it quits and leaves. You close the book and sigh again.

♡♡♡

Daphne Bridgerton had received no callers. The fault did not lie with her for she was perfect in every way. The fault lay with her eldest brother.

Anthony had a habit of scaring everyone off. He had every excuse under the sun as to why no one was suitable for his sister. While his mother wished love for her children I their marriages, Anthony saw more as finding someone merely suitable.

Daphne was disappointed at her lack of visitors. Each day that passed without a caller, her spirit began to dwindle.

She received only one caller. Lord Berbrooke. He was the last person she had hoped to see.

While Violet had been quite busy keeping her daughter company during the passing days, she still found time to corner Benedict.

Colin was paying a visit to the Featherington family to call upon Miss Thompson. Benedict was not calling upon anyone, and Violet hoped the young lady he had danced with could have been an option.

"Benedict."

The second eldest son jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of his mother in the doorway.

"Mother."

Benedict had spent most of the day sketching in his book. He loved drawing, painting, and doodling. Art was his passion. He hoped one day to be good enough to have his work up in galleries.

"Have you paid any visits yet?" Violet asks, pretending to be interested in the decor of the room as she comes closer to where her son lounges.

Benedict stills his hand and glances up at her. "I have not."

Violet looks disappointed. "What about that lovely young lady you danced with?"

"Hm? Oh. I don't even remember her name."

That was a lie. He did remember your name. He just didn't want give his mother false hope. Benedict had no intention of seeking out a wife right now.

"Benedict," she sighs. "I do wish you would try."

"How is Daphne doing?" He asks, immediately shooting down any chance of his mother's interrogation.

"Not so well. Anthony is riding with her in the park. Your brother is... making things quite difficult." Violet feels for her daughter. She juat wants Daphne to be happy. She wants all her children to be happy.

"Yes. Anthony can be overbearing." Benedict resumes his sketch.

Violet knew she would get nothing else out of her son and left quietly. Benedict stopped sketching when she left the room and glanced at the door. He sighs softly to himself.

One day, yes, he'll find a wife. Just not yet.

♡♡♡

Lady Whistledown had made several comments about Daphne Bridgerton's lack of callers. You could only wonder how she was feeling at this time.

Every morning, your mother brought you into the drawing room, and you would wait several hours, but no one came to see you.

While your mother moaned about how the gentlemen lf the ton didn't have an eye at all, she particularly felt disappointed about the fact Benedict Bridgerton himself didn't even come to call. You had told her many times over the last week that the dance wasn't really anything.

He simply used you as an opportunity to avoid his mother, and you knew it.

Deciding to push every Bridgerton from your mind, you decided to focus on yourself. Another ball would mean another chance. There would be plenty of people to dance with there. You shall make sure to introduce yourself, unlike last time.

The opera. That came first. You were attending with your mother. As you were making your way toward your seats, you caught sight of Violet Bridgerton with her daughter Daphne. You didn't have to look far to spot Anthony and Benedict.

Your mind shifts slightly to the moment when you had bumped into the eldest son. The weight of his body colliding with yours, almost sending to the ground. However, his warm hands were quick to steady you.

You shake him from your mind as you find your seat.

Benedict had been speaking his brother when he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of you sitting down. He turns his attention back to his brother.

If his mother caught him, he would never hear the end of it. Even if there was nothing to discuss. You were a perfect stranger to him.

You spend the whole show with your eyes on the stage. When it's over, you rise with your mother and exit into the lobby. Your mother gets caught up in conversation with some of the other mama's, and you find yourself waiting by the door alone. Your eyes scan the crowds of people heading home for the evening.

Benedict is walking with his brother when he spots you by the door. He can't help thinking you look a little cold standing there. The door was open to allow people to leave with ease.

"Hello again." He finds himself stopping I front of you. Anthony either doesn't notice or doesn't care that he is no longer being followed by his brother.

You turn your head and find yourself staring at the second Bridgerton.

"Hello."

Silence settles between you as he stands there and looks at you. You're once again faced with a slightly awkward pause as you have no idea what to say to him. Last time, he was distracted by keeping his mother at bay. This time, it seems he simply has no idea what to say to you either.

"Are you well?" He asks.

You are almost startled by the sound of his voice, half expecting him to just leave after a while.

"Yes. Quite well, thank you."

Benedict takes note of how you pull your shawl around you tighter. The breeze from the door is clearly bothering you.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

"My Mama. She is busy gossiping, I assume." You move your gaze over to where she stands, talking to a little group of other mothers.

Benedict glances that way and chuckles slightly. "Ah. Why don't you wait over on that bench? You'll be warmer there." He gestures to the velvet cushioned seat behind you. You find yourself drifting that way with him.

"I believe your brother has departed." You say, sitting down. Benedict takes a seat too.

"Yes. Though Mother and Daphne are still here, I shall return with them." He looks over to where his mother speaks with Lady Danbury.

Soon enough, his attention is back on you, though. "Did you enjoy the ball the other night?" He asks.

You look at him. "It was alright. The first one is always strange."

"Yes. I suppose it can be. Lots of new faces."

You understood that he was possibly referring to the fact that neither of you had seen each other before, despite your knowing of his family.

"Yes."

"How many names did you get on your card?"

"Just one," you confess. It was true that his name was the only one. You danced with no other that night, for no one spared you a glance. Not that you planned on telling him that.

"I was the only one?"

You turn toward the lobby to avoid his gaze. Benedict understands enough. He is surprised by this information.

"I do not recall you being there the day the debutantes were presented to the Queen." He tries changing the topic. He wants to know you a bit better.

"I wasn't in London. I arrived the day after."

He looks at you quietly for a moment. There is something so calming about your presence.

"How is your sister doing?" You ask, spotting Daphne trying to avoid a certain lord.

"She has only had one caller so far." Benedict points out.

"Oh. Surprising. I was sure she would be swarmed with suitors." You glance back toward her. She looks a little down.

"She'll be fine, I'm sure." Benedict turns back to you. "I'm sorry about the ball. I wasn't a very good partner. Too distracted."

You return your attention back to him. "Yes. I was aware."

"Perhaps I can make it up to you at the next one?" He asks.

"It's alright. You don't need to." You offer him a smile.

"Nonsense. I'm a gentleman." He smiles back.

Before either of you can say any more, Violet comes over with Daphne in tow. You both look up to see the Dowager Viscountess smiling at you both.

"Benedict, we are leaving." She speaks softly.

Benedict glances at you and then stands slowly. He offers you his hand. You take it and stand with him.

"Mother. Daphne." He nods.

"Who is this?" Violet asks, looking at you. She gives off a warm and calming aura. Yet, she looks quite excitable right about now.

Benedict speaks your name. "I was keeping the young lady company while she waited for her mother."

Violet hadn't once taken her eyes off of you. Daphne looked up at her brother, who just shook his head at her. He knew what they were thinking. He was going to hear about this all night now.

"You must come to dinner," Violet insists.

You all look at her.

"Mofher." Benedict sighs.

Daphne smiles and steps forward. "Really, you must."

You look at Daphne and feel comfort. Perhaps she is looking for a friend too.

"Name the day," you say, turning to Violet.

Benedict looks at his mother with faux disdain. He knows what game she is playing. His mother was not subtle in her matchmaking attempts.

"Splended. I shall send an invite very soon."

Much to the ignorance of her children, she had already made plans with Lady Danbury to invite the Duke for dinner so he may get to know Daphne. They would make a handsome couple, she thinks. Why not offer the same opportunity to her son and his new friend?

Violet was so looking forward to this.

Benedict bids you goodnight and offers Daphne his arm. She takes it and bids you farewell too. Violet smiles at you and takes her leave, following her children outside.

Only then does your mother come over. "What was that just now?" She asks. The same light in her eyes had been in Violet's.

"Nothing, Mama."

She doesn't believe you. She traps your arm with hers and guides you out to the carriages.

"That Bridgerton boy, he was the one who danced with you at the ball, yes?" She smiles.

"Benedict Bridgerton. Yes."

"Perhaps you have an admirer!" She says with glee.

"Not st all, mother. He was merely being polite."

She brushes off your words and continues to go down a spiral of why he is taken with you and will wish to court you soon. You sense no such feelings from the man. There is no reason one cannot become acquainted with others without feelings being involved.

You would accept the dinner invitation purely out of curious interest of his family. The Bridgerton's certainly seem like interesting people to know.

♡♡♡

Benedict is sketching in his room when his mother comes in. They had been home merely an hour after the opera. She clutches a letter in her hand as she comes over to him.

"How does this sound?" She holds out the letter to him. Benedict sighs and takes it, skimming the words.

Its addressed to you.

'You are invited to our home this Friday evening for dinner. Be here for 6 and stay as long as you like.

Lady V.Bridgerton.'

"Sounds fine." He hands the letter back. Benedict returns to his sketch.

Violet looks at him. "She's a find lady."

"Hm." Benedict pays her little mind.

Violet looks defeated. It would seem Benedict really has no interest in you. Still, she would welcome you into her home for the evening.

When she leaves, Benedict looks up again. He stares at the door.

He simply has no interest in courting. Not yet.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertons - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #female reader #dragon writes #Bridgerton

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thewordfortheday · 6 months

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We...are being transformed into His image from glory to glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:18)

“Seek the LORD while He may be found; call on Him while He is near.” Think about the potential for finding God in our everyday lives! As we draw closer to God, the dark crevices of our heart that harbours pride, wickedness and selfishness are exposed. God, slowly but surely, creates in us a clean heart and renews a right spirit within us. We are daily being transformed into His likeness and when we meet Him we will be just like Him. Hallelujah!

#daily devotional #christian quotes #bible quotes #inspiration #daily devotion #christian quote #christian life #scripture #bible

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months

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Villain: Laormoch, Archfey of the Wild Unknown

Embodying the primal awe and terror of those places beyond the edge of the map, this ancient spirit of the land exists to test and torment those who stray too far from the safety of the familiar.

Though the old stories call him the" thane of the faroff" or an "invisible giant as big as the sky", it is hard to put Laormoch's physicality and the fear it evokes into words: How do you describe being lorded over by ancient trees, or the scornful glare of unfamiliar stars? His shape is only ever suggested by how it bends the natural world, but he is always distant, though always so immense that it feels like he may reach out and crush the viewer.

Adventure Hooks

The party stumble into a village to find its inhabitants struggling to recover after a disastrous hunt. Some wretched beast tore through some weeks ago and was only dispatched with great effort. It was a cause for celebration, at least until the thing was seen stalking in the woods, reading for another attack. To prevent it from assailing their walls and destroying their homes the village's best hunter leads the village's strongest on a sortie, downing the beast only after injuring many and losing a few. This has happened three times so far and the village's defenders are wearing thin. Perhaps the party could lend their aid once the beast is spotted again, and perhaps spend the intervening time trying to find its obviously supernatural origins.

Almost inconsolable, a great lord calls for the party's aid in rescuing his son and heir, who he claims was stolen by the sky itself: snatched out of his tower window by a great hand and carried off into the clouds. The servants and courtiers are skeptical, everyone knows the lord was so protective of his son he barely let the boy leave his rooms, let alone the castle, and it's likely the lad finally managed some means of escape. While they're considering exactly how to search for the lad the party will be approached by the Lord's bastard daughter, she was denied her inheritance by her father's traditionalism, and sees the opportunity to have herself recognized if the true born heir is never found. She'll ask that even if the party does find her younger brother, they either help him escape or leave him where he is, as it would be better for the both of him if he doesn't return to the castle.

Backstory:

Seeking to prove herself against a boastful rival, a hunter ventured far from her village into the deep wilderness, where she found and slew an elk of ethereal beauty, eating its flesh to sustain herself and taking its antlers as her trophy. Though she returned in glory, the beast had been marked by the Thane of the Faroff, who has raised its butchered body as a reverent and gifted it bloodthirsting branches to replace what was taken. The revenant won't stop until it's killed the hunter and torn her body to shreds, which will likely be sometime after she's gotten a good portion of the other villagers killed because she's too good at hunting and too stuborn to die without a fight. The revenant has more than one trick though, the branches animating its body bear seedpods which it scatters as it dies or gores others to death. These seeds eventually grow into twigblights, which are slowly massing in the forest waiting to overwhelm the village's defenders and open the gate for the revenant's final rampage.

Wishing more than anything to get away from the suffocating confines of his home, the young heir has found himself on the wrong end of a fairy bargin. Whisked off by Laormoch to his castle beyond the horizon, the boy has been forced to serve as the archfey's cupbearer as repayment for his captor's "kindness". The party will need to dig deep into the local folklore to figure out how and why the sky might snatch up a forlorn youth, potentially missing him entirely until they run into him while visiting the feywild for a completely different adventure.

Artsource

#villain #villain fey #archfey #wilderness encounter #encounter forest #encounter village #rescue mission #monster hunt #Laormoch

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sillylotrpolls · 3 months

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(Relevant reading below poll.)

This poll is one of my favorites, because I love every possible option. When it previously ran, voters determined Legolas had dyscalculia. I'm eager to see if that result holds up in this "extended edition," or if tumblr will find itself swayed in a new direction.

Excerpted from The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Chapter 7: Helm's Deep and Chapter 8: The Road to Isengard

'Two!' said Gimli, patting his axe. He had returned to his place on the wall. 'Two?' said Legolas. 'I have done better, though now I must grope for spent arrows; all mine are gone. Yet I make my tale twenty at the least. But that is only a few leaves in a forest.'

(Rest of the relevant text below the cut.)

...

'Twenty-one!' cried Gimli. He hewed a two-handed stroke and laid the last Orc before his feet. 'Now my count passes Master Legolas again.' 'We must stop this rat-hole,' said Gamling. 'Dwarves are said to be cunning folk with stone. Lend us your aid, master!' 'We do not shape stone with battle-axes, nor with our finger-nails,' said Gimli. 'But I will help as I may.' They gathered such small boulders and broken stones as they could find to hand, and under Gimli's direction the Westfold-men blocked up the inner end of the culvert, until only a narrow outlet remained. Then the Deeping-stream, swollen by the rain, churned and fretted in its choked path, and spread slowly in cold pools from cliff to cliff. 'It will be drier above,' said Gimli. 'Come, Gamling, let us see how things go on the wall!' He climbed up and found Legolas beside Aragorn and Éomer. The elf was whetting his long knife. There was for a while a lull in the assault, since the attempt to break in through the culvert had been foiled. 'Twenty-one!' said Gimli. 'Good!' said Legolas. 'But my count is now two dozen. It has been knife-work up here.'

...

'Things go ill, my friends,' he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm. 'Ill enough,' said Legolas, 'but not yet hopeless, while we have you with us. Where is Gimli?' 'I do not know.' said Aragorn. 'I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart.' 'Alas! That is evil news,' said Legolas. 'He is stout and strong,' said Aragorn. 'Let us hope that he will escape back to the caves. There he would be safe for a while. Safer than we. Such a refuge would be to the liking of a dwarf.' 'That must be my hope'' said Legolas. 'But I wish that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine.' 'If he wins back to the caves, he will pass your count again,' laughed Aragorn. 'Never did I see an axe so wielded.' 'I must go and seek some arrows,' said Legolas. 'Would that this night would end, and I could have better light for shooting.'

...

Suddenly there was a great shout, and down from the Dike came those who had been driven back into the Deep. There came Gamling the Old, and Éomer son of Éomund, and beside them walked Gimli the dwarf. He had no helm, and about his head was a linen band stained with blood; but his voice was loud and strong. 'Forty-two, Master Legolas!' he cried. 'Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?' 'You have passed my score by one,' answered Legolas. 'But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!'

#lotr #lord of the rings #poll #polls #extended edition poll #gigolas #gimleaf

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rinixo · 1 year

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someday

Din Djarin/Reader | 4.5k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, resolved sexual tension

After a wedding, desires they have kept at bay spill forth. There's no coming back from this.

read on ao3

After three days of trekking through a misty, muddy forest, you were looking forward to a hot shower and a meal. Your feet hurt from stumbling down rocky hillsides and your back hurt from carrying your pack, now filled to the brim with artifacts from the ruins you had plundered.

You, Din, and Grogu had landed on this outer rim planet just about four days ago, seeking some ruins that your sources told you may be connected to the Jedi. Initially, the three of you were going to explore the ruins together but Din had been wrangled into helping a local settlement with a problem.

As you disembarked the ship days earlier, a young woman had hurried towards your small party, a frantic look on her face. She had explained that her fiancée had been recently kidnapped and was being held for ransom by a local crime lord, and she begged for assistance. The town had pooled together the ransom funds, but past experiences with the criminals had shown that they most likely would not have honored their terms. Thus, the woman’s plea for the armored Mandalorian to rescue her fiancée and deal with the crime lord and his goons once and for all.

Din had been hesitant at first, but at your insistence had agreed to help. You felt bad for the young woman – named Tineke, you later found out – and knew you wouldn’t have been able to alleviate your guilt if you or Din had refused. Privately, the two of you decided that Din would go after the criminals while you journeyed to the ruins to find what you could. Tineke had offered to keep an eye on Grogu while you were out.

According to your maps, the ruins were about a two-day hike from your current location, hidden in caves the Crest would not have been able to land near. Similarly, the crime lord’s hideout was two days in the opposite direction. The locals had told you that the ruins were considered haunted and were thus rarely ever approached by sentient beings. That suited you just fine – you were not particularly superstitious and knew the rumors would only help ensure a safe journey there and back. Din was less than enthused at the prospect of you wandering off on your own, but the promise of the ransom funds as a reward helped to sweeten the deal and convince him to let you go. The Crest needed some repairs, and fuel was expensive and hard to come by out here in the outer rim. Credits were always welcome.

Thankfully, you were right and your journey was uneventful. The most exciting thing that happened was you scaring yourself with your own shadow while in the caves and slipping in mud after a rainstorm. Now, as you approached the town, you were eager to clean up and see Din and Grogu. The thick forests and rocky cliffs had made your short-range communicators mostly ineffective, but you had remained in contact in what ways you could over the last few nights. Din had installed a mod onto your wrist comm that allowed the two of you to send pulses that vibrated when you touched them. The two of you had come up with a kind of secret code, where around the same time each night you would send an ‘I’m ok’ pulse and he would send one in return. If either of you failed to respond, it would signal something was wrong. Thankfully nothing had yet to go wrong, and it was nice to have a reminder that you weren’t alone during the dark nights.

You had expected Din would have finished his task and returned faster than you had – benefits of having a jetpack – and based on the excited chattering you could hear from the town center you guessed right. Before you had left the locals had skittered from place to place nervously, always looking over their shoulders. Now there were people out everywhere, and it looked like they were planning some kind of celebration. Lights and streamers hung from building to building, wrapped around trees, and you could smell something delicious cooking. It was quite the sight.

Squeezing through the crowd, you murmured apologies as you searched for Din or Tineke. You quickly found them both, along with Grogu and another young woman held close at Tineke’s side. All four of them turned towards you as you approached, and you smiled at Grogu’s pleased squeal at your arrival.

“You’re back!” Tineke exclaimed. She came forward and surprised you with a tight embrace. You looked over her shoulder at Din, who offered a half-shrug in response. Tineke then let you go and pulled the other young woman towards you.

“This is Galina, my beloved,” she introduced the two of you. Galina proffered a shy smile, hand clasped tightly in Tineke’s. “The bounty hunter rescued her and banished the crime lord and his people.”

“Banished?” You mused, mouth curving into a half-smile. Din sighed. You were enjoying the young woman’s excited if not somewhat exaggerated enthusiasm, even if he was not.

“Yes!” Tineke said, eyes shining. “And I’m so glad you’re back – we were just talking and I just insist that you stay for our wedding celebrations. It’s the least we can do to repay you.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow, intrigued. Behind the excited couple, you could see Din shake his head ‘no’. Attending any kind of celebration wasn’t exactly up his alley, but you were tired, and muddy, and it was getting late.

“I’m sure we can spare a few hours,” you agreed, and the two young women squealed with happiness. Din sighed again, and you cast him a reproachful look.

“Is there somewhere I can clean up?” You asked. Galina explained that her family was already setting aside rooms for your small party in thanks for her rescue and that you could bathe and change into clean clothes there before joining the celebration. She led you towards her home, and you stepped tiredly behind her, Din joining you shortly after.

“Really?” He asked, and you scoffed.

“Just for a few hours?” You asked. “I haven’t showered in three days and having a real ‘fresher sounds great. Plus free food, Din, you can’t argue with that.”

Another sigh was your response, and you knew you had won the argument. You pulled your pack to your front and opened it up to show him what you had found.

“Besides, it’ll take me a bit to decipher these,” you explained. Din took the pack from you and carefully looked over your findings.

“Very well,” he conceded.

An hour or so later, you were drying your hair as Galina’s sister – a heavily pregnant woman named Lin – laid out several outfit options for you. She chatted excitedly the whole time, about her husband, her sister’s wedding, and what color of gown would match your eyes best.

“How long have you and the Mandalorian been together?” Lin asked as you allowed her to help you wrap the simple yet elegant fabric around your body. You coughed awkwardly.

“Oh, no, we’re not together, not like that,” you corrected, and Lin threw you a knowing glance. “We’re…just friends. Traveling companions.”

Lin huffed out a short laugh. “Oh of course,” she replied. “My Nilo and I were just friends once, and well –“ She patted her swollen belly, and you tried not to flush at her insinuation.

“He has a creed,” you tried to explain, but she was quite sure of herself and merely cast you more knowing looks as you finished dressing. You decided not to argue with her, as the truth of your relationship with Din was complicated even for you.

There was something there, you’d bet on it. Though you had never seen his face, you could sometimes feel his stare on you. There were moments when the two of you were closer than just traveling companions would be, though he always seemed to pull back at the last moment. A gloved hand on your back that would creep just a little too low, a prolonged tap on your thigh to get your attention. Once, on the edge of sleep, you had just been barely aware of him standing near your cot before he pulled your blanket up to cover your bare shoulder, and the brush of his hand still made you shiver.

It was driving you wild, and yet you could not summon the bravery needed to breach the gap. You were so sure there was something there, but the fear of rejection stayed your own hand. Part of you knew that you’d never really know unless that gap was bridged, but out of respect and a desire to not make living together on the cramped ship awkward you always hesitated.

Lin declared you dressed and ready, bringing you out of your solemn thoughts. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, pleased with how the fabric clung to your curves. Patting your hair, Lin instructed you to go downstairs to join the celebrations.

You trounced down the stairs and made your way out into the cool evening air. All around you lights glittered, the air heavy with the smell of incense. It was quite the change from the fearful first impression the town had given three days ago.

You looked around for Din and found him off to the side of the main plaza. He was leaning up against the side of the building, arms crossed as he watched Grogu run around with some local children. As you approached, you appreciated the way his armor caught the light, noticing not for the first time that he cut quite the figure.

“He seems to be enjoying himself,” you said in greeting as you joined the bounty hunter. His helmet dipped in acknowledgment, and you stood in an easy silence as you watched Grogu play. Further ahead, the wedding party was settling under a large tree that marked the center of town. The sound of strings and bells started, and the crowd let out a series of cheers as music beckoned people out to dance.

The newly wedded couple were the first to venture out. Even from this distance you could see the adoration in how Tineke and Galina circled each other. Gradually others joined them in the dance, and you looked over toward Din.

“Do Mandalorians dance?” You asked, half-teasing.

Din shook his head. “My covert never did,” he said shortly. “Not much cause for celebration.”

You hmm’d in response. “That’s too bad.”

A pause, before Din spoke again. “Do you?”

“Do I dance?” You asked, and he nodded. You smiled and twirled in response. He turned his head slightly to watch you and the way the fabric swirled around your hips and legs.

“A little, and not well,” you laughed. “But it’s fun, when I do get the chance.”

His gaze lingered on you for half a breath longer before he tipped his head toward the crowd. “You should go. Have fun.”

You glanced in that direction, heart sinking just a little. “A-alright,” you replied. “See…see you later?”

He nodded again in response, and you let yourself wander into the crowd and sink into the rhythm of the sound and movement, and tried to forget your aching heart for a few moments.

Din’s gaze wandered between the child playing in the dirt and the girl dancing under the twinkling lights. Even in the crowd, he could pick her out easily – the way her hair looked in the warm light, the way her gown hugged her waist. All things he hoped to imprint into his mind.

He had thought you beautiful for a while, but you were truly breathtaking here, under the stars. He watched as you spun around, that easy grin on your lips. A local man – a boy, truly – came forward to take your hands and he could hear your laugh as you let him twirl you. He clenched his fists, not used to needing an outlet for the feelings in his chest. Jealousy, desire – all fairly foreign to him until you had entered his life.

Din almost wondered if you could tell how he felt towards you. He often found himself staring at you, studying the way your brow furled in confusion at some complicated equation. He had begun to memorize the way it felt to pass his hand along your back, to the curve of your waist, and the way you’d look up at him as he did so. He liked how the refresher smelled like your soap after you finished bathing.

This was the first time the two of you had been separated by different objectives, and the entire time you were apart he had fought the urge to constantly check in to make sure you were safe. He knew you were smart and resourceful, but the idea of you being hurt or lost made him almost sick with worry. Each night he would send you a pulse through your communicator, and his heart would pound each second it took to feel your response.

Seeing you again in town, safe and successful, had made a weight slide off his shoulders. If it were anyone else he would have insisted on not staying for this party, but he was becoming increasingly susceptible to your desires. A year ago he would have scoffed in the face of the Mando that would agree to attend a backwater town’s wedding celebration – but the Mando from a year ago didn’t know you.

“Having fun?” A cheery voice snapped him out of his reverie. The pregnant woman from earlier, he didn’t catch her name, had come out of the crowd to join him. She fanned herself with a paper fan, one hand caressing her stomach gently.

Din grunted in response, not feeling particularly chatty. The woman sent him a gleaming smile, and a tinge of mischief was in her eye.

“That’s a pretty girl you’ve got,” she pointed her fan in the direction of the crowd where you continued to dance. “Surprised you’d let other men get so close.”

“She’s not mine,” Din bit back. “She is free to dance with whomever she wishes.”

“She wishes it was you,” the woman challenged. She pursed her lips, a tone of authority in her voice.

“You rescued my sister, and gave us this night,” she continued. “So let me give you some advice in return, bounty hunter. If you don’t take the chance, someone else will. A beautiful young girl like that…you’ll run out of chances sooner or later.” With that, she snapped her fan shut and bid him farewell before wandering back into the crowd.

Din watched her go, throat dry, knowing she was right. He had deluded himself into feeling content with what he felt, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before you would move on and he’d be left with the ‘what-ifs.’

Hours later, you stumbled into the small but comfortable room set aside for you, cheeks flushed from the dancing and feasting. You hummed to yourself softly as you began to prepare for bed, the low light of a lamp casting dancing shadows across the walls.

You hadn’t seen Din since you had left to join the crowd earlier. You guessed he had dipped out early with Grogu, and while you were somewhat disappointed you understood. His room was directly across from yours, and you had knocked softly as you returned to let him know you were back as well. There had been no answer, and so you resigned yourself to rest until daylight. No doubt Din would want to be off as soon as dawn arrived.

The soft ‘click’ of the door opening and closing made you turn, and you saw Din standing just inside your doorway. His bulk took up most of the entrance, and you cast him a small frown.

“Oh, did I wake you?” You apologized, hands dropping from where they had started to undo the fabric of your gown. “I didn’t mean to. I’m fine.”

“You didn’t,” Din replied, and then was silent again. You raised a brow, confusion apparent on your face.

“Oh.” You waited for a few heartbeats for him to say why he was here. If he was just checking on you, he would have left by now, right?

“Do you…need something?” You asked, and in response, he stepped slowly towards you. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. He stopped just in front of you, hands twitching nervously at his side.

“Your gown,” he stated. “It looks – you look good.” Din’s voice was soft, and so was the touch he gave you as he raised a gloved hand to brush over your shoulder. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Din?” You whispered. His hand stayed hovering over your shoulder, and there was a tension in the air – between the two of you, and in the way he seemed to both want to pull away and move in closer.

Slowly, as if you were trying not to startle a wild animal, your hand come up to touch his. He watched as you gently pulled off his glove and set it to the side. Your bare skin brushed against his, and you smiled at the softness of it.

You pressed your palm against his and wondered at how neatly they fit together. You knew your hands were smaller than his, but seeing them like this honed in on the difference.

Gently, you folded his fingers down and brought them to your lips. You both heard and felt how Din’s voice hitched at the touch, and you closed your eyes as you directed his hand to your shoulder where the clasp of your gown was.

Understanding, Din began to undress you. He carefully unwound the fabric, a sort of measured hesitation in his movements. His hand drifted from one shoulder over your collarbone to the other and guided the cloth down over your breasts. Eyes still closed, you huffed out a small sigh as he grazed soft fingers over the peak of your breast, hardening nipples brushing over his palm as he let the gown drop to your hips.

You let yourself move closer as he pushed the fabric all the way down so that it pooled around your legs. Even through the helmet the feeling of him staring at your bare form burned deliciously. You fought the urge to cover yourself – not out of embarrassment, but from the pure blaze of attention you felt from him.

Taking his other hand, you pulled off the glove and brought it to the center of your chest. You held it there, looking up into the T of his visor, wondering if he could feel the way your heart pounded under your ribcage.

“What are you thinking?” Din asked you softly. You blinked up at him through your lashes.

“I wish I could kiss you,” you admitted, and heard his answering sigh and felt his fingers graze softly against your skin. He tilted his head forward and you followed so that your forehead and the front of his helmet met gently.

“I know,” he husked. Taking your hand, he tugged you towards the low bed in the corner of the room, turning out the light on the way. The room was plunged into darkness until your eyes settled a few moments later. You couldn’t see more than the vague outline of his figure as the two of you settled down onto the soft blankets.

He laid you out there, hands stroking softly up and down your body. You wondered if he could see you clearly through his helmet.

“Someday,” he promised.His hand stroked your cheek gently before it came down over your neck and collarbone. You relaxed into the sheets and let out a pleased sigh as his hand brushed over the plush weight of your breasts. He rolled your nipples in his fingers, and you arched sweetly into the tug of it. While one hand continued to tease you there, the other crested down your stomach, dipping briefly into your belly button before spreading wide over your lower pelvis.

“Open,” he commanded breathlessly, and you obeyed without question. Parting your trembling thighs, you keened softly as the hand not occupied with your breasts slid down to cup your center. Two fingers slid between your lips to find you wet and wanting, and they rolled over your clit slowly.

“Very good,” Din praised, and you smiled. His fingers dipped into the wetness dripping from your pussy, coming back up to slick over your slowly swelling clit. Biting your lip, you resisted the urge to roll your hips into his touch.

He stroked you methodically, purposefully. Wholly interested in your pleasure, he delighted in the way your breath left you in soft gasps. He spread your thighs a little wider and slid two fingers up into you so that you had no choice but to arch up and roll into it.

You scrunched up your face at the stretch of it paired with the firm pressure he was applying to your clit. Din grasped the leg closest to him and brought it to lay over his thigh so that you were spread even more, your hips lifted at an angle. He fucked you with his fingers and you reached out, grasping at what armor you could reach.

“Yes,” you groaned, and he answered you with a particularly rough push of his fingers. “Just-just there, please –“

“Anything for you,” he answered. “Anything you want, beautiful, wet, tight girl –“

His fingers curve, poking at that spot inside you that made you feel bottomless. You wanted more, wanted to feel your cunt stretch around him. You didn’t realize that your fevered thoughts were spilling out into nearly incoherent rambling until you heard him answering.

“I know, I know,” he placated, the hand not playing with your slit coming up to brush over your parted mouth. “I want it too, sweet girl, I want you so badly – you have no idea what you’re doing to me –“

You dart your tongue out to meet his fingers and your stomach coils at the sound that comes from him when you suck on them.

“Fuck me, Din,” you beg, and he groans.

“Not yet,” he crooned, hand not once letting up from its intense pace. “Someday, not yet, come on baby – “

You arch further as your stomach curls and your leg goes numb. You are on the precipice of orgasm, pleading with voice and body for Din to let you fall over the edge.

He obliges you, like he said he would, and murmurs filthy praise as you shake and clench on his hand. Your legs snap close before he forces them open again, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your puffy clit to prolong your release.

You lose your voice in the height of it and come crashing back down on waves of liquid heat. Your eyes flutter open, eyesight blurred, and you look down your body at where his large hand is still cupped over your aching cunt.

“Din,” you plead, and his head snaps from where it was focused on his hand to your face. You blink wetly at him, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He wasn’t going to. He was pleased enough with being able to touch you, feel you, and have you come undone at his hands. Maker, he could die happy having done that. But the way your eyes begged, blown dark and wide with pleasure, made that last rope of resistance snap.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and rolled so he was covering your body with his. You molded yourself up against his, rolling your hips to feel where his cock lay – hard and throbbing for you. Your hands came up to tug on his shoulders, and he dipped his head down next to your neck as he ground his hips into yours.

“L-let me touch you,” you begged. “Please –“ you pushed against his shoulders to roll him back over, switching places so that you were in between his thighs. His helmeted head leaned up to look at you, cock twitching as your shaking hands went to his belt.

You wasted no time in undoing the clasp and pulling down his trousers enough to pull his cock out. It was heavy and hot in your hands, and a throb of pleasure shot through you at the size of it, the thought of how well it would fill you up.

Someday, you echoed his earlier promise before dipping your head to lathe your tongue over him. Din groaned in response, head falling back to hit the mattress. His cock jumped in your hand and you hummed around him as you began to work to take him as deep into your mouth as you could.

You could feel how his thighs trembled. His cock leaked pre-spend, the salty taste of it coating your tongue as you ran it up and down his length.

“Fuck,” Din cried hoarsely. The number of times he had imagined your lips around his cock failed to compare to the feeling of you wet and hot between his legs. He wanted to taste you in turn, and told you so through gritted teeth.

You moaned at his words, the vibration of it adding to the man’s cresting pleasure. One hand came down to tangle at your hair, tugging and stroking in time with your own pace. The other he used to prop himself up on one elbow – he wanted to see you there, between his thighs, taking his cock in your mouth.

“Maker you look so fucking good,” he rasped. “Fuck, gonna come down your throat, pretty girl – fuck –

Your hands squeezed him at his base as you lowered your mouth further, spittle dripping out from where your lips were wrapped around him. The sound of it was filthy – his groans, your choked moans around his length, the slick of your hand stroking him hard and fast.

His hips twitched as he edged closer – not quite fucking your face, but enough to signal his desperation. You loved the way his hands tightened on your scalp, loved the way he was coming undone underneath you.

Din pulsed in your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks to suck once more before he husked out a series of curses, coming down your throat. His hips bucking, his abdomen tight as he groaned all the way through it. You swallowed it all, hand and mouth not leaving him until you lapped up the last of his spend

You looked up at him. His hand was still your hair, your lips and chin soaked from your own spit and his release. Both of you were panting – soft gasps in the cool air of the dark room

He rasped your name, hand coming down from your scalp to trace the curve of your cheekbone. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, climbing up his body to lay against him, skin prickling where it touched cold beskar. He stroked your head and face as you laid a flushed cheek against his chest. His other hand stroked down your bare back, tracing imperceptible patterns.

The dam had been breached. Both of you were satisfied, but both wanted more.

“Someday,” he murmured again as if he could read your mind. “I promise.”

a/n: part 2??... perhaps（´∀`)

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #mando smut #mandalorian smut #the mandalorian #din djarin #din x reader

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andysorbit · 11 months

Text

Praise & Worship Pt. 1 (M)

Churchboy!Doyoung/Camboy!Doyoung x Churchgirl!reader

Warnings: soft dom!Doie, corruption, unprotected sex (be smart), guided masturbation, overstimulation, dirty talk, big dick Doie agenda ayyyeee, slight angst, phone sex, daddy kink, fingering, squirting, spitting (I'm a spit slut leave me alone)

Word count: 4.8k

Now, this is a black church ya'll. This aint your memaw Doris' church nah sir we bumpin' them ol' negro spirituals

Thank you to @brownsugarbaybee for making me these really cool banners. Kari, your username inspired the username in this fic :,)

I also would like to thank @multifandomslxt, @calibabii21, @agust-june for being my number one churchboy!Doie enablers.

Doyoung's Playlist (because why tf not??)

The Battle is the Lord's - Yolanda Adams

I Won't Complain - Rev. Alyn E. Waller

My Redeemer - Nicole C. Mullen

Mary, Don't You Weep - Aretha Franklin

I Love the Lord - Whitney Houston

DaddyDoie's Playlist

Brown Skin - India.Arie

Untitled (How Does it Feel) - D'Angelo

Til the Cops Come Knockin' - Maxwell

TiO - Zayn

Sweetest Taboo - Sade

praise

/prāz/

verb

To express warm approval or admiration of.

worship

/ˈwərSHəp/

verb

To show reverence and adoration for.

Church is going swimmingly as it always does and you're happy to be seated in the sanctuary.

You, being an eager early bird, found your way to your seat in the front as you always do. Being the first daughter of the church is no easy feat but you love it and you love coming to give thanks to your Lord and Savior.

Adult life isn't always kind to you but you still come, rain or shine, to give honor.

Doyoung's been coming to this church since you were both eleven. His parents almost joined but they said your church was "a bit loud". That was okay. The black church experience isn't meant for everyone.

Doyoung, on the other hand, had stars in his eyes and with his parents' consent, he joined that very day; even signing up for the ministry van to come and pick him up.

Doyoung began singing in church a year after joining and he's loved it since the start. Starting off in the choir and working his way up to doing solos.

You two have grown close over the years and you've both grown up to be fine examples of how anyone can flourish when they stand in the love and dignity of the church of God.

Doyoung chose to sing The Battle is the Lord's this Sunday and as usual, he kills it.

Your father's sermon is about temperance and he preaches with his usual flair as he always does.

"Now we men know how it is when you see a beautiful woman! We know! We get a lil... 'ooooh she's a fine lookin' woman!' We get all beside ourselves sometimes! Same thing for you ladies! It's human nature, y'know. God didn't give you a single thing by accident. Ain't no sin in how you feel but it's what you do with those feelings!" he says; stopping for a minute to wipe his brow with his handkerchief.

The congregation agrees with hoots and hollers and old women fan themselves. You feel alive.

"The thing is that you can't just give yourself to everyone. Fall in love first! I tell these young kids all the time! You may think it's no big deal but it is! It's difficult to resist while you're in the thick of it but you'll be glad you stuck to the word of God and waited!"

Your eyes wander over to the the choir and you seek out Doyoung. His suit is crisp as usual and he looks amazing. His eyes meet yours and he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Like my man Doie for example! Fine ladies man, right? Of course but he's waiting for his wife. He's not paying you girls no mind because he knows the Lord is paving the pathway for his wife... hopefully my daughter- no lemme stop- but who knows? I don't! Hallelujah!"

Doyoung drops his face into his hand and laughs then looks back over at you and gives you a playful frown. You roll your eyes.

"And I know my baby likes him because everytime I mention him, she just gets that look on her face- look at her ya'll! Then those eyes get to rollin' and she just- that's my son-in-law, y’all! Hallelujah!"

"Daddy, would you stop?" You say and wave your hand at him.

Doyoung smiles at you and rolls his eyes.

When service ends, you find your dad, "You better leave me alone, old man," You say with a smile.

You father laughs and touches your face, "I don't speak on things unless I'm sure about it," he shoots back.

He's being pulled away for prayer and you greet everyone as your eyes search for Doyoung.

He finds you, as he always does, and with a warm embrace he asks you, "Did I give you chills?"

You reply, same as always, "I'm still freezing," You reply.

You pull back to look at him and he returns your smile, "You're coming back to Sister Martha's for lunch?" You ask.

"Of course I am. I'm gonna stop by and see mom and dad first but yeah. I'm coming," he says.

Mother Annie, whose mind is going, comes up to take your hand and Doyoung's, "How's my babies?" she asks.

"Oh, we're great! How are you feeling?" You say with a smile.

"I'm doing fine as always. Doie, you need a ride home, baby?" she says.

Doyoung smiles, "Oh, Mother Annie, you won't believe it but I learned how to drive! I have my own car and everything!" he says as he smiles but you see the sadness in his eyes. Everyone loves Mother Annie and it's sad to see her forgetting so much.

"Oh Jesus, I'm gettin' old," she sighs.

"But you're still a beauty," he chuckles.

She hugs him tightly then she hugs you, "He'd make a fine husband," she says as she shuffles off.

Doyoung gives you smirk, "She's not wrong," he says teasingly.

"I wouldn't know," You say sassily as you look him up and down.

Doyoung is an everybody kind of guy. Everybody loves him and everyone wants to be his wife or his in-law. He was a bit shy when he first started coming but he's grown into himself in many ways.

Your day eases by nicely and lunch is a fun gathering as it always is. Good food, good chats, and good prayers. Sister Joyce bakes a Louisiana crunch cake and as usual, threatens to spank Doyoung if he comes back for a third piece.

All is good and easy.

The week eases by and Saturday night rolls around like clockwork. You take your time preparing your clothes for church and then make a pitcher of peach iced tea that you plan on dropping off at Mother Annie's house before church in the morning.

You unwind after a nice bubble bath and dress in an oversized t-shirt and those feelings of yours bubble back up. Feelings of imagining what Doyoung's body would feel like against yours, of what it really feels like to be ravished.

Sometimes, there's a look in his eyes that you can't place and it's led you to believe that there may be a side to Doyoung that you've never seen and it gives you chills more intense than the ones he gives you in church.

On impulse, you ordered a pink dildo online a few weeks ago but your guilt is why you never even opened the packaging but tonight, your curiosity gets the best of you.

You look at it then put it back in the box.

It's a step.

You roll the idea of using it around in your head before firing up your laptop.

You started off with good intentions.

Really.

A simple Google search:

Is it a sin to masturbate?

Clicking between Christianity.com, GotQuestions.org, and reading answers and Bible verses on NeverThirsty.org for so long that you begin to wonder why the hell you should even possibly care anymore because it's all a mixture of yeses and noes.

Then comes the twist that makes you groan in defeat. The matter of lust. Can you even masturbate without lusting after someone?

You close the tabs and search for porn sites for something to watch. It's all anticlimactic. You expected more but... this is all a bit much.

A pop-up catches your eye:

DaddyDoie is live! Sign up to say hi now!

"Doie? Oh please," You scoff but you sign up and your username is BrownSugarPrincess. Is it stupid? Yes. 100% but you didn't sign up to seduce anyone or to attract any lascivious attention to yourself. You signed up because there's no way that's your Doie.

You confirm your account and you're redirected back to the livestream.

You shriek.

It is Doyoung.

Or maybe it's not. You can't see his face and the camera cuts off just at his neck and Doyoung definitely has a necklace exactly like that and those shoulders... there's no way that's Doyoung...

But it really could be...

You lean in closer to your laptop and take in his naked body with little regard to your previous research on where your soul will end up after doing a thing like this.

You slap your free hand over your mouth when he sighs, "BrownSugarPrincess. Cute name... You're my thousandth subscriber, sweetheart, so.. you've won yourself a surprise," he says softly as he strokes himself a little faster.

You'd recognize that soft, honey voice anywhere.

"Oh my God," You whisper

You watch his hand fist his cock and you're frozen; anchored in place by the sex dripping from his voice.

"I'Il send you a DM and you can tell me when you're available to claim your prize," he says slowly.

You type your reply:

BrownSugarPrincess: oh wow that's pretty cool... thank you but maybe give it to the next person? I don't think I should...

Doyoung chuckles devilishly, "Such a polite girl. It's okay, we'll talk after. I think I could change your mind."

You want to close the tab and toss your laptop across the room but you can't. His cross necklace sits so nicely around his neck and the fact that he's even still wearing it is obscenely attractive.

"God... please," You whisper. You're unsure of what you need God to do for you because more than the willpower to put your laptop away, you want Doyoung inside of you.

"I know what you want," Doyoung chuckles as his hand slows down. He's a tease.

Your hand is in your panties before you realize it and you softly touch your clit as you abandon all of your morals from earlier.

Doyoung stops stroking himself and lets his cock smack against his stomach with a heavy flop.

"Oh... oh my God," You pant as you stroke yourself a little faster.

You admire his girth and wonder for a moment how long it would take you to stretch around his cock.

He's fucking huge.

He gently runs his thumb over his throbbing tip and spreads his precum so slowly that you whine.

"Get a good look at it, baby," he sighs, "Do you think you could take all of this? How much do you think you could fit in your mouth before you start gagging on it?"

The comments are flooding in and you don't read a single one of them because how could anyone focus on typing with this indescribable being on their screen?

He chuckles as he wraps his hand around his cock once more, "You've been very quiet BrownSugarPrincess... or maybe I can just call you Princess? I bet you have the prettiest brown skin, sweetheart... I know why you're not saying anything... I know you're touching that pretty little pussy."

You buck your hips and the sound of his voice alone is enough to send you over the edge but you fight it off because you don't want this to end.

"I know you're soaking wet for daddy... In your bed with your hands between your beautiful thighs... stroking that soft, warm cunt... I know you're wishing I was there to stretch you out and fuck you like you're all mine... yeah, Princess... Daddy wants you to touch that pussy. Do that for me, baby."

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and your fingers speed up, "Oh... fuck, fuck... fuck... fuck," You pant and you're so close and he knows it. He knows what he's doing.

He strokes himself faster and you match his pace. The moans that fall from his mouth are the most delicious sounds you've ever heard and wishing that you could feel them against your mouth, you lose the battle.

Your body trembles as you cum and soon his cum is shooting up his stomach and covering the back of his hand. His moans, slow and velvety, dance into your ears and soak your pussy even more. It's so much- too much and you could cry.

"That was so good, wasn't it?" he sighs breathlessly.

You nod and of course he can't see you but you nod anyway because he has you stuck on stupid.

"Okay... well... that's all for tonight. Thank you for coming... Princess, I'm gonna clean up and then l'll be talking to you," he says and ends the live.

You get up and clean yourself up too. The guilt kicks in as you step into the shower and you scrub your body so harshly that you think just maybe you've washed the sins off of you.

"God... please... forgive me. I'm so sorry. l'm so, so, so, sorry. God, cleanse me. Help me, Lord," You whisper over and over as you rinse the soap off of your body.

It doesn't feel like your soul is any purer but your skin is a little sore and that's a feeling that can distract you from the guilt in your chest.

You towel off once you're done and go back to your bedroom. You reluctantly check the site's notifications and you yelp.

DaddyDoie: Hello, Princess

It was sent five minutes ago.

You tap a reply; too eagerly.

BrownSugarPrincess: Hello

DaddyDoie: How are you this evening?

BrownSugarPrincess: I'm doing fine. How are you?

DaddyDoie: I'm great. Thanks for asking. How'd you find my livestream?

BrownSugarPrincess: I was kinda just looking around I guess. I tried watching porn but I didn't really find anything that was helping.

DaddyDoie: So you needed more and that's what sent you my way. That's cute. Really cute.

BrownSugarPrincess: So what's the surprise?

DaddyDoie: Well, you have two choices. A video call or a voice call.

BrownSugarPrincess: Um... maybe a voice call? I probably shouldn't though do it though.

DaddyDoie: And why is that?

BrownSugarPrincess: It's a lot to explain I think...

DaddyDoie: Maybe I should call you then. You won't have to type it all out if we just talk.

BrownSugarPrincess: Ok

Your reply sinks in and you panic but you don't have much time to wallow in it because the voice call prompt on the site pops up. You quickly grab your headphones from your nightstand and turn them on. You slip them on and answer,

You pick up, "Hi," You say softly.

"Hello, Princess," he says and there's no way this isn't Doyoung, "What's this conflict that's got you so stressed out, hm?"

"Well... I'm religious and... this is wrong. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Well... Princess, I'm probably not the best at steering people down a good path versus a bad one but... what do you want to do right now?"

"I don't know what I want."

"Oh, I don't believe that, Princess... I think you know exactly what you want but the problem is that what you want doesn't line up with what you believe is right."

You fall silent.

He chuckles, "How about this... how about you tell me what you're wearing and we can take this very slowly and if you want, you can stop me at any point,"

"O-okay... I'm... I'm wearing a towel. I just got out of the shower," You reply nervously.

"You tried to wash the sins off of that pretty body, didn't you, Princess?"

"Uh huh."

"So cute... how about you take that towel off and lay in your bed for me?"

You quickly remove your towel and toss it aside before getting into bed, "I'm uh... I'm in bed," You say shyly.

"And you're naked?"

"Y- yes."

"Say it. Tell me that you're in bed and you're naked."

You shiver, "I'm... in bed and... I'm... I'm naked."

"Good girl," he hums, "Now... I want you to touch yourself. Nice and slowly, baby, touch your pussy for me."

You hand glides down between your legs and dip past your folds, "Oh," You gasp as your fingers slowly tease your clit.

"Are you wet for me, Princess?" he asks softly. His voice shoots through your body like lightning.

"I'm so wet... so wet," You whine as your fingers move faster.

"Oh no you don't... you need to slow it down, sweetheart. You're not gonna cum until I tell you to," he says softly. You can tell he's smiling. You can always hear it in his voice.

You slow down reluctantly and whine, "Please," You beg.

"Here's what you're gonna do... I want you to take your other hand and slide two fingers inside that pretty cunt. Do that for me, baby," he tells you. His voice alone is too much and you gasp when he moans softly.

You do. Two fingers slide deep inside and you almost cum.

"I- I... oh... God... daddy," You whimper.

"That's a good girl. Just like that... fuck yourself with your fingers, baby. Fuck that tight little cunt for your daddy," he sighs.

You ease your fingers in and out of your wetness and the sounds are obscene as you fall deeper and deeper into this pit that his soft moans

"I can hear you fucking yourself, Princess. Daddy can hear you. You're so wet, baby... I hear those fingers moving inside that soaked cunt. I'd love to be there with you so I could taste you, baby, and suck on your clit until you're trembling for me... Would you let me eat that sweet little pussy? Huh, baby?"

You move faster and your body begins to tremble, "Yes... Daddy... please... please," You whine. Your voice is a desperate shrill now and colors swirl behind your eyes as you keep going.

"Chase it, baby. You can do it. It's right there for you. Isn't that right, beautiful?" he purrs.

"Uh huh... u-uh huh... daddy," You whimper.

"It's all yours, sweetheart. Come on," he says and his own voice goes a little higher. His moans shake you somewhere deep within and you wriggle desperately as your orgasm approaches.

Your eyes flutter shut and you whine as you come undone.

"Don't stop yet, baby... curl your fingers up for me," he says softly.

You immediately obey his orders and sigh, "I... I dunno if I'm doing this right."

"You'll know, sweetheart. Just take your time. If I was there with you, I'd show you exactly where to touch yourself. You wouldn't have to do a thing... just lay there and keep those pretty legs open for your daddy... I'd take good care of you... Make you feel so good I'd probably make you cry for me," he drags out as best he can and he sounds so fucking close but you know he's holding out until you find that spot he's talking about.

He was right, you do know the moment you find it because you convulse with a new rush of pleasure that overwhelms you. You press your fingers against that spot deep inside over and over, "Daddy" You mew out weakly.

"Didn't daddy tell you? That's my good girl. Keep going baby. Right there... just like that. Keep doing that," he says. His voice is deep and longing.

Your fingers speed up and you shake violently.

"Daddy!"

This orgasm is so intense that you almost forget how to breathe and you soak your hands, your thighs, and your sheets.

"That's my girl. Such a good girl, Princess. You did such a good job," he praises you breathlessly.

"I... the uh... I soaked my bed. Oh my God... I soaked my bed," You pant mindlessly and you don't even know how you're talking because it's as if you have no control over your mouth or really any other part of your body.

"Did you squirt?" he asks with a low chuckle.

"That's what it's called? I thought I pissed myself."

"No, baby. That isn't what happened at all... Was it that good?"

"Yes."

"Did I give you chills?"

Your blood runs cold, "Uh huh..." You croak.

A silence falls over the both of you for a moment.

"I um... I should go clean up," You say softly.

"I should too," he chuckles.

"Thank you," You say.

"Of course. Good night, sweetheart," he says with a soft laugh.

His voice could send you into another frenzy.

"G- good night," You say.

You end the call and slam your laptop shut, "Oh my God."

You pull off your headphones and stand up.

What a night.

Morning comes around too quickly and between your restless sleep and your general nerves about seeing Doyoung, for the first time ever, you're late for church.

Sadly, there's nowhere to hide. Your empty seat in the front row is like a stage as you quietly take your seat.

Impulsively, your eyes seek out Doyoung and there he is with his perfect posture and his teased back hair, watching you with an amused smirk. You give him a tight smile.

You don't hang on to a word your father says and save for the date scrawled sloppily at the top of your notebook, the page is blank.

Your mind replays the night before over and over. The darkness in his voice, the way he sounded as he came, the curiosity of how his cock would feel inside you; it haunts you and excites you.

You close your eyes and whisper a prayer but it's no use. Behind closed eyes, all you see is his naked body, the cross that hung lewdly against his bare chest, the cum that painted his stomach. Your eyes shoot open and Doyoung's staring at you.

"Are you okay?" he mouths.

You nod quickly and drop your head down. To look at him is to set you back from the inch of progress you've made since your last impure daydream and the knowing look in his eyes is far too much- prolonged eye contact will turn this jovial church service into your funeral.

You don't realize church is ending until your mother nudges you to stand for prayer.

As your father closes out with prayer, you look over at Doyoung who's looking right at you.

"Close your eyes," he mouths to you and you quickly obey.

When church ends your mother takes your hand, "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yes, mama. I just didn't get enough rest last night. I'm sorry," You ramble.

"You missed my joke this morning but that's your loss," your father says as he greets you with a hug.

Like clockwork, Doyoung finds you and after warm greetings from your parents, he turns to circle his arms around you, "You must've had some night," he laughs.

"Oh uh... not really. Just had a restless sleep. Not much else," You ramble.

Doyoung is highly amused, "Oh, I'm sure, Squirtle," he laughs.

"What's that supposed to mean? What's so funny?" You ask nervously.

"Come with me, Y/n," Doyoung sighs as he leads you through the crowd. You both greet people as you go.

Mother Annie stops you both, "Hi, babies. How are you both today?" she asks as she kisses your cheek and then Doyoung's.

"We're good, Mother Annie. How are you today?" Doyoung asks.

"I'm fine, baby. Do you need a ride home?" She asks.

Doyoung's smile falters for only a second, "Well I was looking forward to seeing you so I could tell you that I have a car now!"

"Oh, you do? Now you can drive me to church!" she says with a laugh.

"Of course! You know I love you," he says sweetly.

"And I love you, baby, but you better practice that driving first. I ain't been in a car accident in a long time and I don't plan on getting into one with you," she laughs.

"Oh for sure," Doyoung chuckles.

She kisses you both again and goes on her way.

Doyoung takes you outside into the cool spring air, "Your skirt is on backwards," he says as he hooks his finger into your skirt and swiftly turns it around the right way.

"Oh... thank you," You say sheepishly.

"Look at me," he tells you softly.

You look at him and he leans in closer to you.

"Doyoung, I-"

"It's okay. You're overthinking this too much. Just let it be," he tells you softly.

"How can I? I feel awful," You say as you shake your head.

"You didn't feel bad while it was happening. In that moment, it was just us. You know I'm gonna marry you anyway so why are you so worried about it?"

Doyoung reaches out to touch your face and you lean into his hand.

"Because we're not married and... that's why it's wrong. You know that," You say, "We're not even dating."

Doyoung smiles a very smug smile, "Well, I thought we were... all those dinner dates and movie nights and staying up all night on the phone talking or just listening to each other breathe... excuse me."

"I'm sorry that was... I shouldn't have said that," You mumble.

"No, it's a good thing you did because we did sort of fall into it but we never said it and maybe that's something you needed to hear," he says.

The quiet is disrupted by the church doors opening. Everyone comes out chattering and you let the crowd separate you both.

It's a cowardly thing to do but you don't know what else to do.

When you get home, you undress and take a warm shower. The urge to wash away your thoughts is rampant and in the past twenty-four hours, if you showered every time you felt this way, you'd have no skin left and you'd never leave the shower.

You curl up on your sofa and sit in your own discomfort as you whisper prayers of forgiveness.

Doyoung lets himself in holding plates wrapped in foil and you can tell he's a little annoyed, "I figured you'd be here... Your mom said if you leave like that again, she's coming over with your dad's belt and I might tag along with my own belt but anyway... I have food and Sister Katherine made a cheesecake so come on," he says as he kicks his shoes off and makes his way to the kitchen.

You don't move from your spot on the sofa and he comes back out to hang his blazer on your coatrack by the front door.

"Come on, Y/n, get up. Let's go. If your morning went as badly as I think it did, you didn't even have breakfast so move it," he says as he loosens his tie.

Your ruthless thoughts are back and you imagine him tying your hands behind your back.

You shake your head, "You should go, Doyoung. I'm fine... I just need to be alone," You mumble.

Doyoung takes his tie off and hangs it with his blazer, "There's not a single thought you could have about me that I'd take offense to, Squirtle," he says and rolls his sleeves up.

There go the thoughts again. This time you imagine him forcing you to your knees and tracing the head of his cock across your lips.

"Doyoung, please," You sigh.

"I'm not leaving until you eat something. Besides, I've know you for... sixteen years now? Since we've known each other, we've never missed a Sunday lunch together. Just because you wanna be a butt head doesn't mean we have to break our tradition. You don't have look at me or even talk to me but you're gonna get your butt in that kitchen and you're gonna eat something," Doyoung stands over you and crosses his arms.

"Okay... fine," You say as you get up.

You both go into the kitchen and you sit down at your tiny table.

Doyoung washes his hands and removes the foil from your plate, "I got you a little bit of everything," he says and gets it going in the microwave.

You can't help but smile, "Thank you, Doie," You say softly.

He turns and smiles at you, "Y/n, you know this is no big deal, right? I mean any of this," he says as he shakes his head.

"Why did you start doing it?" You ask

Doyoung bites into a hush puppy, "I needed the money," he says casually.

"Doyoung, my dad said if you needed help to just ask," You chide.

Doyoung shakes his head, "Y/n, your dad is a great man but you don't think if I'm dipping into his wallet, it's not gonna change his idea of me? He wants me to marry you probably more than you and I want each other combined and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't plan to do this forever. It's just until I get a promotion at work and if you tell me right now that you don't want me to do this anymore, I'll find a different way to get by until then but I'm not asking your father for a dime."

The microwave beeps and Doyoung gets your plate out. He brings it over to you then puts his own plate in the microwave.

"But why? Like... I don't understand," You say quietly.

You watch him retrieve a fork from your silverware drawer and he crosses the kitchen to hand it to you, "It was the fastest and easiest solution to my problems. Between the bills and just living, it got to be too much and the student loans don't help and since I'm still paying those off, I was a bit over my head and... I know it was a bad choice to make but I was praying and nothing was happening and I crunched some numbers and the alternative was to either stop paying two bills or stop taking you out so I did what I had to do. Besides... it's twice a week for a little less than an hour and it was the only way I could still come to church and spend time with you when I want," he shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs again.

"Doie... oh my God," You sigh, "I could've helped out or we could've gone dutch at the very least."

"Oh, God forbid. It'll be a cold day in hell before I do something like that- what kind of a man do you take me for? he scoffs.

One thing about Doyoung is that some of the old-fashioned values that the elders of the church live by have stuck with him:

Never ask a woman for money.

Never drop a woman off and drive off before she lets you know she's on the other side of her door.

Never ever let a woman you're spending time with pay for anything- even if she invited you out.

The first time you ever offered to treat him to lunch, he all but fainted.

The microwave beeps again and he takes his plate put. You watch him bring it to the table then he gets two Mason jars from a cupboard.

"I made peach iced tea last night," You say, "It was for Mother Annie but I forgot it."

Doyoung laughs as he gets the pitcher from the refrigerator, "I really ruined your morning, didn't I?"

You nod as you pile a forkful of macaroni and cheese into your mouth.

Doyoung fills your glass and then sits down to fill his own. After placing the pitcher down, he reaches across the table and holds his hands out to you.

You stare at his hands and imagine them gliding over his body then over your own, "You didn't say grace," he chides.

"Oh... sorry," You murmur and set your fork down to take his hands.

"Dear Lord, thank you for this meal and thank you for the love that went into everything. Thank you for today and give Y/n a little extra love... she needs it," he says with a smile, "In Jesus' name... amen."

"Amen," You say and smile back at him.

Clearing the air is good and although it doesn't change the longing you feel for him, it makes lunch a hell of a lot easier for you.

"It's not a crime to let me take care of you sometimes. If you need to do what you have to do for now, I won't stop you but I could help... I could send tips an-"

"Anything you send me, I'm gonna take all of it- down to the very last penny and I'm gonna donate it to the church. Do you really want money you sent me for jerking off in front of a camera funding the children's outreach program? Huh, Squirtle?"

"Well, geez, Doie. When you put it like that... ugh fine. You're impossible," You huff.

"Well then don't," he says firmly.

You both eat in silence but the air thickens as your curiosity becomes more unbearable.

"Y/n, if you have another question, just ask me. It's okay,"

"How long have you been doing this?" You immediately ask.

"Two years... eight months and fourteen days," he replies.

"Do you like doing it?"

"Not really... I'm good at it though which... excuse my language is... kinda fucked up."

"You were always this good or... did you have to work up to how good you are now?"

"I used to be nervous but... I started pretending that I was just doing it for you... like you were the only person watching and it got easier... Just so you know, I've never even thought about touching another woman. You're the first person I've ever even gone that far with," he says with a sheepish smile.

"Oh?" You say perk up.

Doyoung nods, "I uh... I watched a few people and I did some research and stuff... that's how it's gotten to this point... how I got to get you off like that... I was so scared it wasn't gonna work," he chuckles and his hand creeps across the table to brush against yours.

"You were scared?" You ask incredulously as your fingers intertwine with his.

Doyoung laughs and brings his free hand up to his chest, "I thought you were gonna hang up," he says.

"Oh no... no, no, no. That was really good,"

"Really?" he asks

You nod and he gives you a sheepish smile.

"You know... I knew it was you the minute I heard your voice," he says.

"How?" You ask.

"That voice of yours... I could hear it once and know it anywhere. All of this mileage we've accumulated and all of the times we've stayed up talking on the phone and you really thought I wouldn't know?" he laughs.

"I think... maybe..." You trail off as you push around the bits of food left on your plate.

"Maybe you wanted me to know it was you?" he asks.

You nod. It's freeing.

"I kept thinking there was something wrong with me for feeling this way... like it's just repressed for literally years and I can't stop thinking that it's wrong to feel this way," You say as you look at him. It's easier now.

"I know it's a lot to try to grapple on your own but you have to decide what's good for you... sometimes what we want isn't always what's right but you have to decide what you're gonna do," he tells you with a reassuring smile.

"Yeah... that's the problem..." You mutter.

"So what now?" he asks.

You shrug, "I'm... not sure? I was hoping you could tell me," You say and you feel yourself shrinking inside.

"I say we eat some of that cheesecake and just enjoy the rest of the day," he says as he stands up.

It would be a lie if said you weren't disappointed. You really were anticipating something more.

He knows it and it's written all over his face.

"Okay," You say softly.

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll clean up and get the cheesecake," he says.

"I can help you," You reply.

Doyoung stands up, "I um... I think you should just go to the living room," he retorts.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because I keep thinking about bending you over the table but I'm trying to be a gentleman and do the right thing," he replies very calmly.

Doyoung clears the plates from the table and shoos you out of the kitchen.

You settle down on the sofa and turn the television. As you mindlessly cycle through movies and shows, your ears stay trained on Doyoung busying himself in the kitchen.

"Doie, forget the cheesecake, okay? Just come on," You call out.

Doyoung comes in and sits beside you, "So what are we watching?" he asks.

"I didn't know what to pick... I uh... I figured we could agree on something?" You say quietly.

Doyoung slinks his arm around you and eases the remote out of your hand, "Okay, Squirtle, let's find something together," he hums.

"Stop calling me that," You mumble.

Doyoung turns to look at you, "What? You don't like it?" he laughs.

"No... I don't," You huff.

"You thought you pissed yourself," he laughs a little harder.

"Doyoung, stop!" You sigh.

"Okay, okay, okay... I'll stop," he chuckles and presses a kiss to your temple.

You snuggle closer to him and rest against him as he passes movie after movie.

He lands on One Direction: This is Us and he laughs when you groan.

"Remember when you were obsessed with One Direction and sister Mary said the devil got ahold of you?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yeah... it's because I wrote a fanfiction about Zayn and my dad told her," You groan.

Doyoung gasps, "That's why?"

"Yeah... it wasn't super smutty or anything but there was kissing. I didn't go far," You sigh.

"How far did you go, devil child?"

"Kinda far but not too far I guess?"

"Hm."

You pull the remote out of Doyoung's hand, "I can show you."

"Oh... you wanna show me?" he chuckles and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You sigh and bring his hand down to nestle between your thighs, "It started off like this," You whisper.

Doyoung's fingers find their way into your panties and he touches you softly as he holds your gaze, "Well that's a very good start," he says and leans in to kiss you slowly.

His fingers stroke you slowly and you want to believe that he couldn't possibly feel this good and have no experience but anything is possible at this point.

You moan into his mouth and he chuckles as he strokes his tongue against yours.

Your stomach flutters and you heat up as his fingers speed up and slow down.

"Doie... Doie, please... please, Doie," You whimper.

"Hm?" he hums as he slips two fingers into you, "Is this what you want?"

You writhe as he fucks his fingers into you, "Please, Doie."

Doyoung laughs and curls his fingers up to touch you just how he told you to the night before, "Oh, Y/n... Y/n, Y/n, Y/n... I'm trying so hard... to be a gentleman and you just won't let me," he purrs against your ear.

"I just want you... I need you. Please," You sob desperately as he pulls his fingers out of you and slides them into his mouth with a soft moan.

He is so obscene and drives you to the brink of desperate tears.

"You need me? For what, Squirtle? Huh?"

"I- I... please... please fuck me."

"I thought you wanted me to wife you first... what happened to that? Hm? Isn't this wrong?" he says as his fingers find their way back to your clit.

He slows his fingers down and you sigh in frustration.

"I don't care.. I don't care. I don't... I don't, I don't, I don't... just want you inside me," You beg and bring your hand down to cover his, "Please... I need it so bad."

Doyoung sucks a mark into your chest, "Don't start something that you can't finish," He hisses. His fingers speed up again.

"I want you, Doie, please," You whine.

Doyoung shifts and pushes you into a leaning position over the armrest. His hands squeeze your ass and you close your eyes in anticipation.

"You should see how good you look from here," he hums and pulls your panties down. His fingers slide over the curve of your ass to stroke your clit as you push back against his hand.

"Do you wanna know something else?" he whispers against your ear.

"Yes... uh huh,"

"I knew it was you when you joined my stream."

"H-how?"

His fingers slow down, "That's the same username you used when we snuck and made those Snapchat accounts when we were younger... remember?"

The memory ebbs back into your mind and you smile for a moment.

"You've always been my predictable girl... do you remember why you liked that username so much?"

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut as he slides his fingers inside to fuck you slowly.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"You- said I looked like brown sugar."

It was a joke you two had started. Your 'that's you' game. Finding things you thought were beautiful and yelling out "that's you!". It was an innocent game for years until it was forgotten. Doyoung, when you both were sixteen, had revived it in your kitchen while helping your mother bake Sister Janie a pecan pie when she was pregnant.

He whispered it as your mother was measuring brown sugar but this time it was different, as if he was confessing his true feelings for you and that was the day you knew you loved him.

Doyoung kisses your neck, "That's right... my beautiful girl... with the prettiest skin and the sweetest lips... I knew all along."

You wriggle and whine as his fingers continue their attack on you, "Please, Doyoung," You groan.

Doyoung pulls his fingers from your wetness and sucks them clean before opening his pants.

You turn to look at him and he pulls you up to turn and face him, "I wanna see your pretty face while I'm filling you up," he whispers as he eases you back against the space between the armrest and the back of the sofa.

You spread your legs so willingly that you're a little embarrassed.

Doyoung notices and smiles as leans down to kiss you, "That's my good girl. Don't be embarrassed... I want you just as badly," he says as he eases you out of your shirt.

Somehow, there's comfort in lying naked here in front of him and you know Doyoung feels it too.

"I love you, Y/n," he says sincerely; a look of timidity comes through and you touch his face.

"I love you too," You whisper.

A chill passes wildly through your body as you watch him unbutton his shirt. He shrugs it off and your eyes fall down to the cross on his neck. The guilt doesn't bubble up this time.

Doyoung looks down at you and you can see the reluctance in his eyes, "I wanna try something with you and I kinda wanna see your blind reaction to it because I really think you're gonna like it but I need you to trust me," he says softly.

You nod eagerly, "I trust you," You whisper.

He smiles and leans down, "Okay... open your mouth," he says softly and takes your chin between his fingers.

You part your lips and he spits in your mouth. Your breath catches in your throat as the sensation of feeling his saliva in your mouth raises goosebumps on your skin. You swallow with a soft hum.

"Oh... wow," You breathe.

"Right?" he chuckles and touches your face.

You nod in agreement as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to pull him down even closer. His necklace swings and taps your chin. It excites you in a way.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers.

You kiss his eyes, "Always."

You feel the head of his cock nudge your clit and you squeak.

"Keep your eyes on me, okay? I really wanna see your face while I'm fucking you,"

You nod and look at him.

"God, you're so beautiful," he sighs.

Slowly, he eases into you and you keep your eyes on him, just like he asked.

"I can already feel myself becoming addicted to you... I wanna stay like this with you forever and ever. You... fuck... you feel so good," he whines as he bottoms out completely.

"Doie, please," You choke out.

Doyoung pulls out almost completely before easing back into you.

"Do you like this?" he asks.

You can tell he's holding back.

You nod, stupid and enthralled by his voice and his touch, and the pressure you feel as he fills you up.

The softness of this moment is too much because how did you just fall deeper in love with him?

"P-please...go harder," You whimper as you clench around him hungrily.

Doyoung hisses and drops his head down to touch yours, "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum.... You want that? Wanna feel my cum inside you?"

"Yeah... I want it," You moan.

"You're so cute," Doyoung chuckles, "Say it. Say what it is that you want." He thrusts a little faster and you spread your legs in wanting.

"I want... you to... fill me with your cum," You pant.

"That's my dirty girl," he coos, "You're not on birth control, are you?"

You shake your head, "No... no," You reply.

He hums as he fucks into you, "Oh... so you really want me," he laughs.

You nod and lift your head to kiss him, "I... want all of you."

Doyoung slams into you once and stops to lock eyes with you, " Like that?" he asks and does it again.

You nod and whine.

He fucks you with a hard and steady rhythm and the sounds of his hips meeting yours take you somewhere obscene as you writhe against him and take each thrust with an unsurmountable greed for the next.

"I love you," You whisper; voice trembling as you lose yourself in his eyes.

"And I love you," he whispers back.

He picks up speed with a soft moan and kisses you. You lick into each other's mouth sloppily and he takes that as as sign and proves that he knows you well enough, "Open your mouth, sweetheart," he pants.

Your mouth falls open greedily and he spits in your mouth again. This time you hold it in your mouth and moan with satisfaction.

"I need more, Doie... please," You plead.

He snakes a hand down between your bodies and toys at your clit, both of your whimpers fill the thick air of your living room.

"I'm... oh, Doie," You whine, "I'm close."

"Cum for me, sweetheart. It's alright," he whispers against your mouth.

You release with a cry and Doyoung pulls out. You gasp, "No, no, no... Doie, please... please," You beg desperately.

"I'm not done, babe... turn around for me. I'm not done with you yet," he chuckles as he shifts you to turn and lean back over the armrest.

"Doie," You groan as he eases himself back into you and you welcome back that delicious stretch, "Fuck... you're so big."

Doyoung brings a hand around to stroke your clit again and you inch away from him as he fucks you. His hips smack against your ass and you whine.

"You love it, baby... You love how I stretch you out. How good it feels... I love it too... Love the way you grip me just right," he purrs.

His free hand comes up to softly circle around your throat and he pulls you up to press your back to his chest.

"Give it to me, baby... come on... You can do it again," he whispers as his fingers increase in speed. You wriggle against him and he laughs as you try to ease away from him to escape his ministrations.

"Hey, hey... where are you going, huh? Don't run from me," he laughs softly as you let him fuck into you, "That's right... stay right here with me... you love this, right?"

You nod furiously, "U-uh... h-h-huh! Yes, daddy!" you squeak.

He leans down to press his lips against your neck before licking his way up to the shell of your ear, "Yeah you do, baby... yeah, you do," he coos against your heated skin, "That's why you have to stop running from me... if you really need me to stop, you know what to say... so why don't you stay still, huh? Let me play with you."

"I love you, Doie," You gasp.

"You love me, sweetheart?" he moans.

You nod in agreement, "S-s... so... much," You sob.

His fingers stroke you faster, "Again... give it to me. Right now, baby... give it to me."

Your body is a storm of wanting him to stop but dying to feel him take you to your own heaven once more. Your body tightens up, "Doie..." You choke out.

He hisses at the sound of your soaked pussy clenching around his cock, "Sounds just like it did last night... such a good pussy... so tight and hot... it's all mine, right?"

You nod and your body convulses as you cum once more. You try to squeeze your thighs shut but Doyoung holds his hand firmly against your cunt, "You're so beautiful... just a perfect... perfect angel," he sighs as he emphasizes each word with a sharp snap of his hips.

"Please!" You cry as you try in vain to push his hand away. Despite your attempts, you don't really want him to stop. If he told you that you were to stay with him forever, just as you are right now, you wouldn't think twice about it.

"I love you, baby," he whispers as he cums. His body shudders and he kisses your neck again.

You both fall forward against the armrest and Doyoung stills himself.

You both tremble as you come down and Doyoung chuckles weakly, "I don't wanna pull out yet. Can I stay like this with you for a little bit longer?" he asks. He's still hard and if you weren't so spent, you'd do something about it.

"You're still hard," You whisper.

"It's okay, sweetheart... We have the rest of the day and I'm not going anywhere," he replies

Doyoung rouses you from your slumber gently, "I have to get home, Y/n. I have work in the morning," he whispers.

You roll over and drape your arm and leg around him, "Don't leave me," You mumble.

"Well unless you're down with three livestreams this week, I gotta go. I'll see you later. I'll come by after work," he says and kisses the side of your face.

"No... no. I'll come by your place. It's my day off. I'll make you dinner," You say as you sit up and kiss him.

"Not you being an obedient wife. Gonna make dinner and wait for me?" he chuckles.

"Yeah... what do you want me to make?"

"Whatever you want. You know I love eating anything you make," he whispers against your mouth. You know he's trying his hardest to not give in and stay with you.

"Pan fried steak with mushrooms?"

"Oooh."

"Mashed potatoes?"

"Stop, you're turning me on."

"Steamed broccoli and carrots?"

Doyoung turns onto his side then pushes you on your back and his fingers find their way between your legs.

"My parting gift to you," he says softly as his fingers draw soft circles into your clit. You spread your legs a little wider and close your eyes.

"Doie... thank you," You whimper.

Doyoung talks you through your orgasm, "Cum for me... that's my good girl. Always so wet and warm... cum, baby. You can do it," he hums.

"Doie... yes," You whine groggily.

His fingers work you faster and you gasp as you cum.

"That's my sweetheart... Good girl," he coos.

The last thing you feel before you drift back to sleep is his lips pressing softly against your forhead.

So we're slaves to any semblance of touch. Lord, we should quit but we love it too much. - Andrew Hozier-Byrne

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xkaidaxxxx · 2 months

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Pt2 for Zuko x Chubby reader?

Zuko x chubby reader pt.2

Mentions: body shaming, foul language, angst, aggression, lying, fluff

Simple! :) sorry for the errors.

"One day there will be an amazing man who will fall in love with you. He'll love everything about you." Katara said. You smiled and hugged her. "Awe" Aang and Sokka said in unison. You are very fortunate to have wonderful supportive friends. Katara's words came true. Years later. When you dumped Zuko that was the day Zuko and Mai decided to leave. You missed him more than anything. Once the war was over you went back to your parents. People still judged them for taking a water bender into their family.

"Well I'm off mama," you said. You turned to the door and your father was blocking it. "Dad please don't start." he smiled rolling his eyes as he added a blade into your bag. "Just in case y/n. Now run along," he said moving away. Your dad is very protective.

You didn't want to be late for your business. Since you learned how to heal with water bending back in the war you finally found it useful in the fire nation. You saw soldiers at your place. "Excuse me soldiers...is there a problem?" you asked and crossed your arms. They turned to face you. Zuko was right at your door waiting. He thinks he can show up because he's the Fire Lord. You gladly ignored him. Opening up and walking inside. His eyes widened as the door slammed in his face. A little boy giggled. "Your girlfriend is mad at you?" he then gasped realizing Zuko was the fire lord, bowed, and ran off. He walked inside waving off the soldiers. "I'm here to see Y/n." He spoke looking around. You're a doctor. "Zuko get the hell out of here. You can seek help elsewhere." he frowned. After you went separate ways he never forgot about what you did for him. How many sacrifices have you committed? You left your family..your home...You always put him first. " My heart is aching Y/n...ever since the day we went our separate ways. I never lost thought of you. My mind kept replaying how many times you showed me all your love and support. You're the one. It took me a while to know that." he confessed. "Zuko...you're losing your mind. You obviously need to see a therapist." you continued looking at your list of incoming patients. He held your hand, gripping it lightly. He now has your undivided attention. " Y/n I'm in love with you. I need you in my life. I know you still have feelings for me." he said hoping you'd kiss him or hug him. "I don't have feelings for you Zuko. I'm flattered by your confession." you pulled away and started organizing your files. " Then why do you still have the ring I gave you on our 2nd date..and the necklace too." he called you out on it. He's willing to make it up to you even if it takes long. He frowned as you placed the necklace and ring in his hand. "Here I should've given them to you that day," you said with a shakey voice. You did still love him. More than anything. "I love you y/n. why...why did I have to break something I love too much?" those words made you cry. "you..love me Zuko?" he looked up in hope you'd let him back into your life. He nodded. "I..I love you too. Always had. Now give me those back!" you yelled snatching the ring and necklace. He blushed as you put them back on. " I want to meet your parents." you smacked his arm. "way too soon. We need to take things slowly ya know.." your first patient walked in with her lovely daughter. "Hi little one are you ready for your treatment today," you asked as you carried her. Zuko was already thinking about how many kids you'd be willing to have.

Taking things slowly was revoked. Within a month he met your parents and 5 months later you're married and living in the palace. "so..how many kids are you willing to have with me?" he asked as he undressed you for a bath. " When the time is right I'll know," you replied. You already knew the answer to that. 4.Eventually, you had a little boy. He has his Daddy's black hair and his Mommy's pretty dark brown eyes. "Daddy this hard," Akio complained and started crying. "Akio momma said no fire bending yet. wait...where did you get this scroll?" Akio pointed a the wall. Where a portrait of Iroh was placed. "Uncle is yours," Akio said. Zuko carried Akio and sighed. " yes now let us go to momma. She's waiting for us to head into town." Akio giggled excited to attend the festival. Before leaving Zuko looked at the portrait and smiled.

Once you all got to the festival you met up with your friends. " Oh, he's so adorable." Katara said holding out her arms to carry him."Akio this is my best friend Katara." you said. He hid his face in your neck. Sokka chuckled. "Ha, he doesn't like you." Katara smacked him. "Shut up." "Not in front of my son." Zuko scolded her. Katara dedicated herself to getting Akio to call her auntie. Sokka bought a small teddy bear just the right size for Akio. He was too shy to grab it at first from Sokka. "It's yours bud," you said and he grabbed it. "What do we say?" Zuko spoke to him. "Thank yous." Akio said. "Hey, kid. You look a lot like your dad. I'm Aang." "This kid is my son Akio,"Zuko said. He's grateful to Aang but boy can he be so annoying. "Right Akio. Hey!" that sudden loudness made Akio cry. "Dada" "Sshh shh it's okay come here." Zuko took him from you. He's such a daddy boy. All your friends were shocked. A kid does change people. Zuko was more open-minded and a little carefree. He's a good dad and husband. "let's go get sweets not tell momma okay." he whispered to Akio. You knew what he told him because he quickly stopped crying. Sweets. It's Akio's weakness. " we'll be back baby love you." They left. "He looks like such a good dad," Aang commented. Sokka and Katara agreed. "Yes, he is and will be again. I plan on telling him tonight. Although I think he already knows.," you replied.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fire lord zuko #zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #aang #katara #sokka #aang the last airbender #the last airbender #waterbending #firebending #earthbending #airbending #avatar the last airbender #princess azula #toph #the gaang

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jesuschristisgod · 3 months

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Seek the Lord while he may be found;call on him while he is near.

Isa.55.6

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throneofsapphics · 8 months

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hi, i’ve recently found your page & i’m obsessed with your writing! i have a request, i’ve had this idea for a while now.

we’re in the court of nightmares, eris walks up to the high lord & lady and the inner circle to ask nesta to dance BUT he sees reader instead. either feysand or nessian gets jealous, but reader does dance with eris. feysand or nessian gets so jealous that eris and reader gets interpreted. reader gets a reminder who they belong too. reader would be mated with whatever couple you pick.

i would like angst, smut (maybe a little bit darker), jealousy, just do your thing girl 👀

thank you, i can’t wait to read more of your writing 🖤🖤🖤

a reminder

Feysand x f!Reader

Summary: She played her part perfectly, laughing and smiling at all of the right moments. The High Lady watched as Eris grew more and more smitten through the entire dance. Then - his hand drifted lower, squeezing tightly around her hip. Rhys moved before she could.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: smut, almost all smut, a bit of angst, light bondage, d/s dynamics, impact play, jealousy, possessiveness, i think thats it?, minors dni!!

A/N: ah thank you! and thank you for the request!! this was fun to write & I loved this idea, sorry it's not too heavy on the angst,

She’d rarely gone to the Court of Nightmares, only on a few occasions. She hated the cesspool, but when Feyre and Rhys asked her this time, she agreed. You’ve always been exceptionally skilled at reading people, and body language - even without being a Daemati, and sometimes it came in handy when dealing with those extensively trained against your mates powers.

When the male they told her to keep an eye on, Eris, approached her, it was the perfect opportunity.

Feyre watched in amusement as Eris approached the Dais. Every time he visited, he would always seek out Nesta for a dance. She agreed - and she had a feeling her sister only did it to spark some jealousy in Cassian. They always disappeared shortly after, coming back with slightly flushed cheeks.

But, she watched as his eyes passed over Nesta - straight to y/n. They brought her here this time to try and get a read on Eris, without invading his mind outright. She didn’t notice his attention, scanning the room instead. Eris’s eyes gleamed as he approached her for a dance. Rhys went dangerously still next to her. Maybe it was a mistake disguising her scent, hiding the traces of them.

Y/n agreed with a smile, taking his hand and following him to the dance floor. They did tell her to act as if she had no close relation to them … It’s what we told her to do, she spoke to Rhys.

Not to dance with him, he growled. His bored mask was perfectly in place, but she felt the jealousy rolling through the bond. Her sentiment echoed his almost identically.

She played her part perfectly, laughing and smiling at all of the right moments. The High Lady watched as Eris grew more and more smitten through the entire dance. Then - his hand drifted lower, squeezing tightly around her hip. Rhys moved before she could.

She would admit Eris was a good dancer, and she was enjoying herself. Charming, funny, and trying a bit too hard. After the first dance, she’d gathered almost everything she needed to. Watching him for a bit longer, how he interacted with everyone else, would finish that up. But - he asked for another, and she felt rude turning him down. She forced her heartbeat and expression to remain steady as his hand drifted further down, right on her hip. Not obscenely low, but slightly suggestive. An invitation of sorts. Y/n knew this wouldn’t end well.

“May I?” Rhys’s voice sounded, cutting in, so smoothly nothing seemed off to any outsiders. He cut a sharp look to Eris, one that would make most Fae shake immediately. To his credit, Eris only gave a polite nod and made himself scarce.

Rhys’s hand tightened around her waist as he led her around the dance floor. Bruises would appear there tomorrow. He didn’t speak, but she could feel the anger, jealousy, and pure possession rolling through the bond, and immediately went on the defensive.

I wasn’t- she tried to send down the bond.

Not here. He replied sharply. She bit harshly on her bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. Her mate’s eyes gleamed as he caught the motion. We’ll be cutting our visit short.

I still need to -

No. She bristled as he cut her off again. I’m certain you have enough.

Y/n realized when she wouldn’t win a fight, and kept silent.

You need a reminder of who you belong to, he purred into her mind, showing her a preview of what would be coming later.

Arousal and fear flooded through her. A delicious but dangerous combination. Her heart started beating faster, tension coliling in her stomach … Rhys didn’t wait for the dance to end, he brought her back to the Dais, muttering a few instructions, and they left within minutes.

“What the hell was that?”

She was surprised Feyre raged at her first.

“It - it’s what you told me to do.” She stood still, her eyes darting between the two of them. They were both pissed. But she couldn’t quite figure out why, she’d done exactly what they wanted to her. It’s not her fault Eris asked her for a dance.

“You let him touch you.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I did no such thing, it was a dance, dance partners touch each other.”

Her words seemed to roll right over them. “You belong to us, don’t you?” Rhys’s tone was mild, and she saw all of the warnings signs - the gleam in his eyes, the way he held himself, how his fist clenched slightly.

Even as fear lanced through her, she ignored them. “Yes,” she did roll her eyes this time, and her filter completely disappeared. “It’s not my fault you wanted to hide my scent. You’re the ones keeping me like a secret, he never would’ve asked if you hadn’t.”

Rhys stalked over to her, every inch the predator. His fingers tilted her chin, “you need a reminder, don’t you darling?”

“I-”

Before she could answer, Feyre cut in, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with Rhys. “I believe she does.”

Her hand trailed down her shoulder, catching her wrist in a vice-like grip, but she couldn’t look away from Rhys, not with his hand gripping her chin.

“Do you think he could please you?” she cooed, and she knew exactly what game they were playing.

Y/n shrugged casually, “I haven’t tried him.” She waited a few seconds, “but you never know unless -”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before Rhys’s arm wrapped around her waist, winnowing her to their bedroom. One thing she knows for certain about her mates, is they get very jealous, very easily. And that she usually loves the results of that jealousy. Feyre winnowed in a second later.

“Scared?” Rhys asked as she took a few steps back.

She was, but she wouldn’t admit that to him, and she shook her head.

“Foolish,” he tutted, and her clothes disappeared. Waves of magic bound her arms behind her back, before forcing her to her knees. She hit the floor with a soft thud, the carpet dulling some of the impact.

“Right where she belongs,” Feyre teased, circling around her. Her hands gently gripped her hair, tugging her head back to expose her neck. She struggled, trying to yank her head back, but the female’s grip was firm and unyielding. Still, she knew her safeword if she needed it.

She crouched behind her, her other hand gripping her throat. “Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” She panted, and the small coil of arousal started building.

“I don’t know what else I expected from you.” Feyre let out an edged chuckle, and left a deceptively gentle kiss under her ear. “Look at him.”

Her eyes shot up, meeting Rhys’s - standing right above her with a smirk. Her body stiffened, she knows exactly what that expression means. “Stand up.”

She swallowed and Feyre released her grip on her hair. She rose to her feet, and he merely pointed at the edge of the bed. Y/n didn’t move, and his eyes narrowed. She felt the tension growing in the room. She’s playing a dangerous game, walking a very thin line.

“I won’t tell you again.”

“You never said anything,” Y/n gave him a sweet smile and he snarled, shoving her towards the bed. The push knocked the air out of her, but she was left bent over the bed, hinging at the hips and leaving herself completely exposed. They’d be able to see just how wet she is.

She feels Rhys’s body pressed over hers, his hands, gently brushing the hair away from her face as he kicks her legs further apart. He kisses the side of her neck, one hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her further into the mattress. “Remember Darling, you’ve earned his.” She shudders, having an idea of exactly what’s coming next. A silky rope replaces the magic tying her hands behind her back, winding tightly from her elbows to her wrist.

Then, his hand slaps down on her ass. She whimpers, but the first one isn’t that bad, it’s more of a warning.

She can tell Feyre is next, by the difference in size, and Feyre hadn’t been holding back - her body rocks against the bed. They don’t relent, each of them timing it perfectly until her ass and the backs of her thighs are burning, bright red. Tears stream down her face, leaving wet spots on the mattress below.

Her leg kicks up involuntarily, and Feyre shoves it back down with a delighted chuckle. It’s almost too much, her word is on the tip of her tongue, but just as she’s hurling towards her limit, it stops. Rhys’s body folds over hers, his pants painfully brushing against the raw skin. Feyre’s knelt next to her on the bed, tugging her head up. Y/n thinks she might kiss her, let her taste the wine she can smell, the sweet scent of her, but she kisses the tears on her cheeks, her tongue darting out to lick one. The sign of her submission, of them breaking her down in a way only they can. She’s whimpering as they tug her further up the bed, Feyre’s legs spread, guiding her down towards her pussy.

Gods, she loves the taste of her - sweet and musky at the same time, and doesn’t hesitate. She nips at the soft skin next to her thighs, dragging her tongue up between her folds. She wiggles at the bindings holding her back, but they don’t relent.

Her hips are tugged up. A strangled mix between a sob and moan left her as Rhys pushes into her - giving her no time to adjust before he sets a brutal pace.

Feyre presses into the back of her head, switching her focus, trying to put all of her attention on making her feel good. She alternates dragging her teeth over her clit, sucking, and giving small but firm kitten licks. All of the things she know will send Feyre over the edge.

Another smack on the bare skin of her ass draws a moan out of her - and Feyre, the vibrations finally sending the High Lady over the edge. Y/n doesn’t stop, but slows to small licks, bringing her down from the high.

Rhys’s hand snakes around to circle two fingers around her clit. She finds herself screaming, her head resting on Feyre’s thigh.

The female ran her fingers through her hair, “so good now,” she murmurs, “taking him so well my love.”

“A good little slut, just for us,” Rhys accentuates his words with another slap to her ass, squeezing her hips so tightly she knows she’ll bruise.

It doesn’t take long before that coil in her stomach tightens,

“Please, please please,” she chanted.

“Please what?” Rhys asked, with a cruel tone.

“F-finish, please let me cum,”

“Do you think she’s earned it?” He asked Feyre, who’s still stroking her hair.

She hums, “I think so.”

“You’re too soft,” He growls, but increases his speed, tilting his hips to hit that perfect spot.

She’s screaming - maybe their names, maybe to the Gods, she has no idea, but her body goes limp, Rhys still pounding until his cum fills her.

He yanks her back by her hair, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush to his chest. She feels the burn of him against her raw skin and relishes in it.

“Who do you belong to?” He nips at the space where her neck and shoulder meet.

“You, Feyre, both of you,” She mumbles, barely coherent. It seems it was enough to please him, because he releases her into Feyre’s arms, letting her mate hold her, stroke her hair, murmur sweet things to her that fly in one ear and out the other. Rhys returns with a rag to clean her. She’s blissed out, her eyes glazed over, and a satisfied sleepiness is starting to take over her senses. Still, they take the time to quickly bathe and clean her before tucking her into bed between them.

#acotar x reader #acotar smut #feysand x reader #feysand x y/n #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #poly!feysand x y/n #acotar fic #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #feyre archeron x reader #feyre archeron x y/n #not proofread

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abyssruler · 2 years

Text

5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

1ST MASS ♱ zhongli x fem!reader x raiden ei

homily — you’ve been the most devoted servant of the anemo archon since the end of the war, not noticing the heated looks by two gods that have followed you for millennia. in your moment of loss at the sudden slumber of barbatos after the battle with durin, they don’t hesitate to take the opportunity to convert you to their religion.

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

fem afab reader, dubcon, power imbalance, sub reader, praise, subtle manipulation, fingering, oral f-receiving, dom ei and zhongli, implied venti x reader

5 sundays of kinktober

Lingering stares, stolen glances, and every excuse taken to see even a single glimpse of you.

If Morax and Beelzebub’s affections for the Anemo Archon’s priestess could be summed up into a few measly words, it would be that. Were Barbatos a more sharing god, perhaps he wouldn’t have left his two good acquaintances to pine hopelessly for his most devout follower for the better part of two thousand or so years.

He is not someone who lacks empathy, nor someone who could even be called possessive, but there is something so delightful about the idea of depraving two gods of your attention, that which only he is permitted to have.

Alas, such greed and mischief will be his undoing.

“Sleep well, My Lord. I shall await your awakening however many centuries it may take.”

(Barbatos wakes up five hundred years later to his friend corrupted by the Abyss and the knowledge that his once-devoted priestess is now the wife of two Archons. He hears the tale of how two nations nearly went to war for your hand, but the only thing on his mind is how it would have been three had he been there.)

✧

In the aftermath of the Cataclysm, you are left adrift.

There is no room for you in Mondstadt, where people will gawk and bow in reverence for the mythical figure of Barbatos’ High Priestess in the flesh. Dvalin is to be left to heal in peace and recuperate from his fight. Your Archon has fallen into a deep slumber, and while you are happy to wait for him to wake up, your mind seeks to find something else to occupy it.

Much like the wind your god favors, you wander across the land sculpted by your god aimlessly.

That is, until the winds come bearing news of the death of Baal.

✧

Beelzebub startles when you appear before her in a flash of golden leaves, bearing the scent of your homeland and something else that is entirely unique to yourself.

It isn’t your place to comfort gods, but she is a dear friend and not simply the shadow she always insists on being.

“Ei,” it’s the first time you use her true name (it won’t be the last), “I am sorry for your loss.”

And so much more than that. She has lost her sister, her companions, and has suddenly been thrust into the role of an Archon whilst her nation suffers the aftermath of the destruction that Khaenri’ah’s monsters left.

It is a heavy burden, even for a god. You would know — Barbatos had often lamented to you in the past few millennia how difficult being an Archon was, let alone being an Archon in the fallout of a war.

She approaches cautiously as first, as if unable to believe that you are truly here and not guarding Mondstadt as you so often are found to be doing. You take the initiative and offer your hand.

Her fingers close around your palm tightly. She’s shaking, you realize, so you offer your other hand with the promise of comfort.

She takes it and never lets go.

✧

Ei, you find, is a very clingy friend.

She insists you hold her hand and accompany her to every little outing and event that she needs to attend as the god of Inazuma. At night, she asks you to hold her while she pretends to fall into a deep slumber. You let her arms wrap around you, unable to say that you know she’s not asleep. She is grieving in her own way, you tell yourself, let her have this. Even if her touches linger a moment too long and her hands roam places they shouldn’t.

Your soft heart and the principles engrained into you by your god tells you of kindness and the need to help others even at the cost of yourself.

Her hand brushes against the swell of your breasts.

Let her have this.

✧

A letter bearing the seal of Liyue comes during the fifth month of your stay in Inazuma.

Ei looks up from where she nestled her face into your shoulder, shifting to get a better look at the letter and, in turn, shifting you as well from your place on her lap.

It is a thing close friends do, you tell yourself and ignore the intimate connotations such actions would bring up.

“Morax is inviting me for tea. He says he has missed my company terribly in the past few years we haven’t seen each other.”

Her grip on your waist tightens for an infinitesimal moment.

She is reluctant to let you go.

✧

With Liyue comes spring and the Lantern Rite Festival that will be celebrated for the first time since the end of the Cataclysm.

Morax is as imposing as ever in his white robes and the majestic golden horns that rests at the top of his head like a crown. He welcomes you to his side with a smile, guiding you to your seat with a hand on the small of your back that lingers for a second too long to be appropriate.

You let it slide, just as you’ve let many of his and Ei’s accidents over the past.

He makes for pleasant company, but the winds in the mountain have been strangely upset. One particular strong gust of wind tips the dainty cup of tea over, liquid spilling and dripping down the table and onto the dress you had saw fit to wear on your trip to the land of contracts.

Morax apologizes for the state of the weather today, but you reassure him that all is well.

“I suppose this was my Lord’s way of telling me to wash away the dirt of my travels. I apologize, Morax, but it seems we shall have to cut our tea session short.”

He tells you that it’s alright, suggesting a place for you to bathe in and hinting at a meeting between the two of you again tomorrow. “Perhaps, since Barbatos is no longer looking over your shoulder, I might give you a tour around Liyue?”

“That would be lovely!”

✧

You feel eyes resting on your naked form as you immerse yourself in the cold river water.

You tell yourself that you are in the wilderness, there are bound to be animals and all kinds of avian out and about, curious what the new scent of dandelions and sakura blossoms are.

Gold flashes upon your periphery, but when you turn to look, there is nothing but shrubs and trees within sight.

✧

You spend more time in Liyue than you did in Inazuma.

And when it was time to leave to return to your nation, he refuses you.

✧

Morax, unlike Ei, is a different sort of clingy.

Where Ei was soft, hesitant touches that lingered but never stayed, hidden stares and roaming hands when she thinks you aren’t paying attention; Morax is as hard and unmoving as the element he rules over.

“Please, Morax, I hardly think this is appropriate...”

And it is telling how much gravity those words hold, given how you never spoke such words to Ei no matter how much her hands swept over your breasts and thighs and lingered dangerously close to that one spot between your legs.

“Is it?” he asks, breath ghosting over the skin of your neck, sharp teeth brushing over the sensitive spot but never clamping down—yet. “I should think this constitutes as a simple activity between friends. Or was Beelzebub wrong in her assumptions when she mentioned how close the two of you have gotten in the last few months?”

“No, but—ahh...” Your voice veers off into a mere whimper when he presses his tongue to your pulse and licks a long stripe from the junction of your shoulder all the way to the underside of your jaw.

“Or did she lie when she said how you spend every night in her bed, letting her touch wherever she pleases without voicing a single complaint?”

“I-It wasn’t like that. I—Morax!” you exclaim when you feel one of his large hands grabs the inside of your thigh, shifting close (far, far too close) to that sensitive place between your legs. “You musn’t—”

He ignores your admonition and uses his other hand to pry your legs apart. “So she lied, then. I shall deal with her when the time comes, but for now...”

His hand starts moving closer. Frantic and much too distressed to use your vision, you weakly grab his wrists to spot the inevitable.

You feel his chuckle reverberate from where your back is pressed to his chest. It is all the more humiliating when he subtly bounces his leg that you’re sitting on to shift you closer to him.

His hand wrenches free from your light grip and clasps both of your wrists in one, utterly dwarfing yours in size. You try to squirm away from his grip, but in doing so, you unintentionally brush your clothed cunt over the hand that had previously been resting on your thigh.

Your mouth parts at the sudden contact, unconsciously clenching at nothing and feeling your face warm at the breathy laugh that escapes Morax’s lips.

“Don’t try to deny this, deny me just as you have done for thousands of years.” His teeth slides tantalizingly slow over your neck. “If the High Priestess of Barbatos didn’t want this, she would have used her power that once cleaved mountains to escape from my grasp.”

His fingers glide over your clothed slit. This time, you let him with only a mild protest that sounds weak even to your own ears.

You feel him smile against your skin.

✧

You awake to the feeling of a knot building up in your stomach and the cool breeze over your naked form.

Golden eyes pin you in place. Only then do you register the soft, squelching sound that’s coming from between your legs.

In your drowsy, sleepy state, you can do nothing but pant at the foreign feeling overtaking your senses. “M-Morax, what...”

Your mind blares in alarm when you feel his fingers curl inside you.

But the alarm is replaced by the sheer, mind numbing pleasure that follows. You involuntarily let out a keen mewl that echoes around your chambers.

Something hard presses against your thigh.

You feel him thrust his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace that has your head spinning and eyes crossing while Morax leans above you and licks his lips at the sight of you slowly becoming undone.

“M-Morax, I don’t want to... this is... wrong—” His thumb reaches up to rub circles on your neglected clit.

“Hm? But you’re doing so well. Doesn’t it feel good?” He soaks in the sound of your cries. Not stopping the pace of his fingers even when you’re begging with drool coming out of your lips.

“I don’t—please, please, wait—” He silences you by covering your lips with his and swallowing the protest that dies once he bullies his tongue into your mouth.

By the gods, you taste as heavenly as he’s always thought.

His hips begin rutting against the softness of your thigh, his tip leaking precum and smearing it across your skin. And with all the debauchery that a god can posses, he conjures the image of you covered in his seed. Thick, white spurts of his seed dripping down your face and slipping between the valley of your breasts. And he wants it so bad he is willing to burn the world for it.

“Morax,” you cry out, legs shaking and clenching around his fingers as your impeding climax approaches.

He shudders at his name being called out in such a wanton tone, grinding his erection harder against your soft thigh. Suckling at the exposed skin of your neck to mark what is his.

“F-Feels s’ good, I-I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” you mutter intelligibly, fingers clenching the sheets and nails almost tearing through the fabric. You legs start spasming violently, heart racing and breath hitching at the coiling tension threatening to release in your belly.

He watches you with rapt eyes and savors the lewd sounds of your cunt welcoming his thick fingers, your slick running down his wrists that he will make sure to lick clean after.

“L-Lord—” His cock twitches as he imagines you calling out to him with such reverence that was once reserved for a certain god. “Lord Barbatos!”

The coil snaps.

Your back arches, letting out a loud cry as tears spill down your cheeks.

Morax feels his smile turn to stone. A twisted feeling creeping up on him, the kind that makes his want to destroy and be the god of war he was once called millennia ago.

Lord Barbatos. He nearly scoffs. What does that drunkard have that he does not? He will have to make you see sense, but not now, not with this ugly emotion clawing at his chest and threatening to break loose.

He leaves you panting on the bed to reign in his bubbling anger, not confident in his ability to control himself at the state he’s in now.

As your high begins to die down, you nearly become sick with the realization that you had enjoyed coupling with someone who wasn’t your god.

✧

You leave before the sun rises.

Ei welcomes you with a surprised but pleased smile—until she catches sight of your harried state and the bruises beginning to form on your neck and across your collarbones.

“Who did this?” Her voice could be likened to a storm gathering on the horizon. Inescapable and deadly.

You collapse into her arms in relief.

✧

You were hesitant to tell her, but she is insistent, and so you cave.

The only thing that stopped her from marching into Liyue’s borders and declaring the second coming of the archon war was you.

She is gentle with you, comforting you with her embrace and letting you do as you pleased.

(And if she takes advantage of your harried emotions by indulging herself to your addicting scent and running her hands over your velvety skin, well, there is no one there to disapprove of her actions. Much less a certain alcoholic god to snatch you away from her grasp.)

Inside, she is seething. Angry and bitter that Morax got to have a taste of you before she did. To mark your skin with bruises and hear your debauched moans as she pleasured you herself. There shall be no interruption within the halls of Tenshukaku, only you and her and the sounds you will make once she gathers the courage to take you for herself.

“You are always so good to me, Ei.”

Perhaps that time will come soon. Ei would like to cover the unseemly bruises made by Morax on the expanse of your flesh with marks of her own.

✧

She’s more handsy than usual. It’s the first thing you note after laying down the bed beside her and immediately being smothered into her chest.

You feel her hands running down your back, the thin robe she insisted you wear every night leaving nothing to imagination. Her touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake, leaving you shivering but not from the cold.

Ei buries her nose into your hair and inhales like it’s the last time she’ll get to smell your scent — perhaps it is. After what she plans to do tonight, you might just denounce her name as you did Morax’s.

It starts small. Lips trailing over your hairline and fingers ghosting over every inch of exposed skin, light as a feather. You want to say that this is merely her being touch-starved as she always is, but there is something in the air, something heated and coiling with unmistakable tension.

Her hand lands on the soft flesh of your rear.

You pull away from her, hands on her shoulders to keep her at bay.

“Ei, what are you—” She cuts you off with a searing kiss.

Your lips taste as divine as she always imagined them to be.

Her hands are quick to untie the knot of your robe, pulling them away in one swift motion and leaving you naked for her to see.

You flinch away from her kiss when cool air brushes over your nipples. Heat making its way to your face once you realize the state of your undress.

Ei grabs your chin and forces you to look into her vivid purple eyes.

And you finally see what you have been resolutely ignoring these past few months.

There is an unmistakable want in her dilated pupils, gaze lidded with lust and the corners of her eyes crinkled with something you couldn’t hope to discern (is it desire, possessiveness, or—love?)

Her lips find their way to your collarbones, nipping at your skin and teeth biting just hard enough to mark but not draw blood. Your hands land on her shoulders, not knowing whether you should push her away or pull her close.

Your breath hitches when her mouth latches on your nipple, her hand moving downwards to a place you know should be reserved for your god only but—

A whine leaves your lips when her fingers begin to rub circles on your clit. Her pace begins to build up, tearing gasps and moans from your throat as she eases you to a painfully quick climax.

Your toes begin to curl against the sheets, hips bucking up to gather more stimulation. Your mouth opens in preparation for a cry—

But then she pulls away.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until you look down at her and see only a blur.

“Please, Ei, please I—”

You wail when her tongue lands on your slick folds, lapping at them and grinding the tip of her nose at your abused clit.

She inhales, long and slow, and nearly comes undone from your scent alone. Her hands grab your thighs to pull them further apart, burying her face deeper in your cunt, tongue making obscene noises as she continues to sloppily lap at your slit.

“Feels s’ good... Ei, please... please, I want—” Your pleas turn into incoherent babbles when her tongue begins to fuck into you.

Your slick smears across her face, dripping down her chin and into the wet spot that’s gathering on the bed. Ei will have it remain unwashed for the rest of eternity.

Your hands find purchase in her hair, tangling your fingers in the thin strands and pushing her even closer to your cunt. Loud, shaky breaths escape your lips, thighs closing around her head as the heat in your abdomen begins to build to a crescendo.

Ei feels your thighs shake, so she moves her tongue to your clit and starts suckling at it. One long, slender finger enters you with a wet squelch that she’ll repeat in her head for centuries to come.

You come undone on her face, hot spurts of liquid squirting out of you, and Ei is all too happy to run her tongue over the mess you’ve made and swallow your release.

Silence reigns save for the crude sounds of her lips on your folds.

As you sit in the wake of your high, you cannot even bear to think of your god.

✧

You had thought Morax would come for you as soon as he realized you left. A part of you hopes he had, if only so you can finally sort out the confounding feelings that swirl in your chest, threatening to drown you with their sheer intensity.

Ei busies herself with her nation, working on a project she has yet to tell you about.

“I will reveal it to you at a later date,” is always her reply whenever you broach the topic.

It leaves you feeling a sort of fondness, watching her work in a way she had never been able to when she was still a kagemusha.

On the fourth month after you left Liyue, she presents a puppet to you.

“This is Kuni.”

You stare down at the young looking boy who greatly resembles the former Electro Archon, from the soft swell of his cheek to the smile he greets you with. But there is also a hint of you in the slope of his nose and the shape of his lips.

And you wonder, just for a moment, if she had made him with something else in mind other than the keeper of the gnosis.

That night, in the middle of languid kisses and groping hands, you playfully ask her if this means the two of you are parents now.

She splutters and turns red in the face, but she never denies your question.

✧

With Morax comes the shaking of the earth and Tenshukaku in a frenzy as soldiers frantically begin arming themselves at the threat of the Geo Archon himself.

Thunder rolls across the clouds, threatening to bring unforgiving storms and strike anyone who dares to defy it.

Beelzebub meets him halfway across Inazuma City, a crash of thunder against rock that could be heard even from Seirai Island.

You are left in Tenshukaku with the puppet who has never called you his mother but looks at you like you are. He cries when he sees tall stone spires rising to the sky and flashes of lightning that bring golden pillars to the ground.

You hold him close and press a comforting kiss to the top of his head, this boy who has your lips and your nose and perhaps the crinkle in your eyes when you smile.

✧

It takes two days and two nights for the earth to settle and the skies to clear.

Ei returns with Morax, a compromise between them.

You don’t disapprove of it.

✧

You feel your insides get split apart as Morax sinks into your heat.

His cock is the same girth as two arms and has scales that only a dragon could possess. By the time he buries his whole length inside you, you’re nothing but a drooling, crying mess.

Ei kisses your temple from where she has you on her lap, legs twined with yours to keep them apart and two fingers spreading your folds to let Morax stretch you open.

“You’re doing so well taking me in,” he chuckles when he sees your fucked out state, brushing a hand over your face and wiping away the sweat that had gathered.

He starts pulling out, feeling your walls clench down on him and nearly coming undone at the simple action. Ei toys with your breasts, tweaking your nipples between her fingers as she covers your neck with sloppy, wet kisses.

Morax slams his hips against your so suddenly, it leaves you crying out in both pain and pleasure as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix. He sets a furious pace as he thrusts into you, the ridges of his draconic cock sliding against your clit with every snap of skin against skin that echoes in the room.

“My Lord...” You feel him still. Between the haze of pleasure in your mind and the tight knot building in your stomach, you don’t notice this. “Lord Morax, please—”

A deep, guttural groan reverberates from his throat. With one, quick thrust, he slams himself balls-deep into your cunt and enjoys the way you sob as he keeps hitting the entrance to your womb, leaving you heady and unable to form a single coherent thought.

You register the feeling of a hand snaking down your breasts into the spot between your legs.

Ei rubs circles into your clit, her fingers setting a fast pace that has you seeing stars and babbling wordless pleas. “S’ good, I wanna... Ei—Morax—please, more please, don’ wanna stop—”

He grabs your thighs in a bruising grip and starts pounding into you at a merciless pace that has you crying and drooling, tongue lolling out as you failed to decide whether it’s pleasure or pain that’s making your toes curl and back arch in ways you never would have thought was possible.

A mouth latches on to that sensitive spot beneath your jaw and sucks, leaving you gasping and legs twitching as the knot in your belly tightens until it threatens to unravel before you. Ei licks at the bruise beginning to form on your skin and watches the way your face contorts as you approach your release.

“‘m so close... so close—”

Her fingers press hard against your clit just as Morax hits that spot in you that has you convulsing and creaming around his cock, mouth open in a silent scream and tears running freely down your face.

With a grunt and a choked off gasp, he cums inside you, stuffing you full to the brim, cum leaking out your hole even when he hasn’t finished emptying himself in you.

He pulls out after a few quick thrusts that has you whining from overstimulation and pleasure. As soon as his cock is slips out, his thick, white seed pours out your hole. You clench down on nothing, feeling empty at the absence of him inside you.

Ei scoops his cum into her fingers and pushes them back inside you, a lewd squelching sound reverberating in the room as she fucks his cum back into you with her fingers.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, high pitches pleas for them to stop going unheard. Soon, your legs begin quivering as your second release draws near. Morax’s cum mixed with yours drip down the slit of your ass and into the sheets below, making an utter mess.

It comes quick and just as mind-breaking as before. Harsh puffs of breath escape your lips, a gasp that turns into a sob when Ei shoves her fingers knuckles-deep and curls.

Your walls clench down and clamp violently around her fingers in a vice as your climax reaches its limit.

You’re nothing but a drooling mess, head spinning and eyes lidded and blurry with tears, a fog over your mind after experiencing two consecutive orgasms.

In a daze, you faintly register hands cradling you close and lips brushing against your temple, murmured words of praise and adoration spoken to your skin.

You fall asleep between two bodies, covered in sweat and release but in the most content state you’ve ever felt in thousands of years.

✧

Five hundred years later, Venti appears before you and starts whining about you replacing him with Ei and Zhongli.

You laugh and embrace your dearly missed god, telling him that he still holds a special place in your heart and that you’ll always be his Priestess.

5 sundays of kinktober

word count — 4.4k

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