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#that boring tag strikes again
hushedstars · 4 months
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15 people, 15 questions
Thank you for tagging me @xceanlynx ^^
1. are you named after anyone?
Nope (at least not to my knowledge).
2. when was the last time you cried?
Hmmm got teary-eyed today (it's 1am so yesterday, I guess)? Twice. Full on crying I'm not sure (I have terrible memory.)
3. do you have kids?
Nope. And probably never will.
4. what sports do you play/have you played?
uhhh nothing outside of mandatory stuff. The one I played the most during school/uni PE would be volleyball.
5. do you use sarcasm?
Yep. (But sometimes people don't get it. And vice versa xD)
6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?
My terrible memory is like: I don't remember. Their hair? Sth that catches my eye (like a pattern, clothing, the way they behave - for example how they arrive as in are they confident/gentle/loud/dismissive etc.)? Or voice yeah. (I'm seriously not sure but I would place my bet on hair or the behaviour/"vibe".)
7. what’s your eye color?
Hazel. Like hmm ugly, boring, darkish gray with brownish middle (just checked in the mirror; google shows me it's hazel with gold flecks? And I think this is a first time I learned that hazel eyes are quite uncommon? I was under the impression that they are just boring, plain and 'just there' while others have nice one full colour... Kinda perplexing news. Still meh tho.).
8. scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings.
9. any talents?
Not really.
10. where were you born?
Poland.
11. what are your hobbies
uhh I'm the "want to do so much but somehow mostly do nothing/somehow stop (like with drawing, baking - done only for parties sometimes now -, sewing...)" So typical stuff like reading (tho I suck at reading books for many years now. Wish I read more.), listening to music. I have a writing phase now, I guess? (wrote a lot as a kid)
12. do you have any pets?
Not anymore (used to have hamsters as a kid; a dog - Chaps, named after the Lady and the Tramp son).
13. how tall are you?
176 cm = 5'9 (I think the last time I was told my height was in middle school, over ten years ago.)
14. favorite subject in school?
The constant one I think was: English (foreign language)
15. dream job
This is the worst for me because I want to be sooo many things. A baker, an actress, a singer, a lawyer, a florist, a fancy glass maker, a tea shop/bookshop/craft corner owner... just show me a TV show/movie/post/etc. with some job and my brain will be like: uuuu shiny. But overall I would like to just have a stable income and no job (as in somehow I have always enough money to live and can just do whatever I want at any given moment without fear of failure/getting bored/life in general.)
Tagging: @wastelandbaby7 @yashihimi @bythebyandbithebi @ripmacbeth @yupkook
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robinsversion · 2 years
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Some people really need to touch grass
#just… ughh!#having to deal with dogpiling from someone you’d think would have more important things to do right now but APPARENTLY NOT!#all while she’s playing the g*bbie h*nana I’m-the-victim shit#all over a fucking tiktok that no one would know was from her if she didn’t start a whole harassment campaign around it#i certainly didn’t recognize her and I used to follow her#emphasis on USED TO#like I’m also dealing with major grief right now and I have much better shit to do than create a villain of the week like her#watch her stretch out this harassment campaign for weeks like she did last time 🙄🙄🙄#only now I’m apparently a part of it cuz I made a few comments defending her target#note to self: I REALLY gotta stop defending people cuz its more trouble than it’s worth#especially against people who live online and are overdue on touching grass#first and last I’m saying on it so hi if her followers are here come at me sluglord im ripped#particularly cuz I’ve already had to deal with bullshit this year from chronically online people#congrats on being someone’s puppet cuz they were bored or whatever#and needed to strike up drama#despite them claiming they’re not 🤦‍♀️#it’s always the shit-stirrers who claim that huh#not even gonna tag this with my personal tag cuz I just wanna be over this#last time I ignore bad gut feelings and red flags and trust someone anyway because once again I’m attacked with bullshit#i swear#jeez it’s 12 30#yeah that person really needed to just go to sleep if they were bored enough to do this#fucking hell…
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hauntingblue · 3 months
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MINGOOOOO
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cult-of-husbandos · 8 months
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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You
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synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.
genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot
word count: 4.4k
warnings: implied stalking
Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!
You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.
But nope. Nothing.
Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.
‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.
As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.
“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.
⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️
Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?
The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.
"..."
Was this a porn ad?!
No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.
On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or
You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.
Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.
Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.
*****
You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.
8:02 a.m.
You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.
“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.
“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.
You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.
“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”
You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.
“And… you are?”
“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”
You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.
“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”
“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.
Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”
What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.
“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”
You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”
The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”
Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.
Not a prank.
And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.
“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”
“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”
Okay, gross but kind of sweet.
“May I come in?”
“Huh?”
“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”
“Oh, um… Suuuree-”
“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.
Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.
You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.
“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”
Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.
“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”
After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.
“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”
“Willing client?” you asked.
“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.
“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”
“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.
“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”
“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”
Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.
“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”
“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.
“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”
“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”
You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”
“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”
You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.
“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.
“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”
You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”
“Would you like to meet him?”
“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”
“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”
The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”
Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”
“So, like 8 hours ago?”
“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”
“Hmm.”
“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”
You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.
“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”
“Huh?”
“Excuse me, my darling?”
“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”
The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.
“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.
“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”
He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”
*****
Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.
“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”
You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!
“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.
After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!
“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.
“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.
“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.
“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”
“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”
Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”
You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.
Tap tap tap
Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.
Tap tap tap tap
It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap
You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.
“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.
‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’
He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…
“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.
“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.
“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.
“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.
“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.
The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”
You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.
“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”
He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.
“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”
You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.
“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.
“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?
“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.
He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.
“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”
Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.
You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”
Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”
“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”
Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”
You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”
Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.
“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”
Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.
“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”
“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”
You are such a baby for flattery.
*****
“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.
Sitting in his lap.
And feeding each other.
“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”
“I see…” he said hesitantly.
“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”
“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.
“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.
“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”
Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”
And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”
“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”
You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”
“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”
“Yes sir.”
The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.
---
a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.
Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months
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would you write a threesome w leon and chris… because… like maybe leon is your (older,,, like death island) boyfriend and he introduces you to his friend chris!! and idk you three end up having a threesome (consensual)… and you’re embarrassed because. you’ve never done this before n you’re all clingy with leon (maybe daddy kink??) n he’s like comforting you as he and chris fuck you at the same time ?!?!?
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield
summary: your boyfriend leon wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend chris.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, double penetration, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, dacryphilia
word count: 6.6k
a/n: thank you anon for sending this idea, it's right up my alley fr. also thank you for sending it again after i fumbled the bag the first time🤭🫶. the next threesome fic will be coming soon, i just ended up having more inspo for this one lol. hope you guys like it. reblogs and comments are super appreciated <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi
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“I’m just saying I think you both would really like it if you gave it a try,” you say, a bright smile on your face as you walk up the path to your and Leon’s shared place. Him and his friend trail behind you with equally pleased looks, the friend in question being Chris Redfield.
“No way. I did try it, and it was boring. Slow and drawn out. Also, it’s so unrealistic,” Chris says.
“Booooo. It’s not even slow. Stuff happens in like every single episode, at least in the early seasons,” you argue in an attempt to convince the pair to watch one of your favorite shows, “I just think there’s a lot you guys would like about it if you weren’t so impatient.”
“Babe, it’s got like, what? Over five seasons? I don’t have that kind of time,” your boyfriend replies.
You playfully roll your eyes and unlock the front door, stepping inside followed by the two men you were with. “Whatever. I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go change cause this skirt is like super itchy,” you tell them.
Before you can walk away, you feel a familiar palm swat your ass. “It’s like super cute though, shows off those pretty legs,” Leon teases, his tone affectionately mocking.
You whip around to shoot him a glare, face hot with a mixture of emotions, mainly embarrassment with a pinch of arousal. 
“Leon,” you whisper, giving him a look that says not in front of Chris. 
He simply chuckles at your quiet protest and shakes his head with amusement, ruffling your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before sending you off. You catch Chris’s gaze as you turn to leave. To your surprise, he isn’t rolling his eyes or visibly wishing for the two of you to get a room. He’s smiling. His expression is different from the one you were used to seeing on Leon, but it still held the same patronizing adoration that soaked your panties in seconds.
Brushing it off as your imagination, you scamper down the hall to the bedroom. You hum to yourself as you drop your skirt and kick it into the laundry. Rifling through your drawers to find something more comfortable to wear, your hands search through some different clothes before settling on a pair of loose pink shorts. After pulling the soft garment over your legs, you look in the mirror and then decide to slip your bra off too.
Sure, some people would frown on that move, but you were in your place and it’s not like Chris is a total stranger. He was one of your boyfriends closest friends. You’d hung out with him and Leon together multiple times, and from what you gathered, he was pretty cool. It’s not like the two of you were best friends yourself. Like your boyfriend, he was quite a bit older than you. But just as you bridged that gap with Leon, so far it seemed like you managed to bridge it with him too. To say the least, he didn’t strike you as the type to have an episode over your nipples peeking through your shirt.
Unbeknownst to you however, while your thoughts lingered on the men down the hall, their conversation centered around you as well. They had taken to the couch, sitting close to each side and leaving a space for you in the middle.
“She’s a cute little thing,” Chris chuckles, watching the hallway you had gone down.
“Mhm,” Leon confirms simply. He was scrolling through the tv, trying to find that show you’d been talking about.
His friend looks over at him. “You sure she’ll wanna do this?” he asks with some uncertainty in his voice, “She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’s had a whole lot of experience with this type of thing.”
“Trust me, she’ll be into it. I can’t even tell you how wet she gets just from talking about shit like this,” he reassures, “You just gotta let me ease her into it.”
Chris opens his mouth to respond, but he cuts himself short once he hears your footsteps approaching. You bound back into the room. Your eyes catch on the way they’re sitting, closer than you would expect. They still left room for you though, so what does it matter, right?
You hop onto the couch and tuck yourself against your boyfriend’s side, gently kissing his jaw as you get comfortable and curl up on the cushion. He smiles down at you and returns the affection. He pulls you closer, but your feet are still brushing Chris’s thigh with how close he is.
“We were thinking we could watch an episode of that show you were talking about, see if we really would like it,” Leon tells you.
“Really?” you ask, a little surprised, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine, baby. Chris doesn’t feel like driving home just yet, and you know if you’re happy, I’m happy,” he says.
You look over at Chris who nods. With that, Leon puts on the show. The familiar intro music plays and you watch the screen as a scene that you’d seen a million times plays out. You sink into his side, settling against his warm body. The episode plays, and you point out little things you like or remember something specific about. Both men nod and chuckle at your excited remarks.
Even though the couch and cuddling are comfy, your legs start getting a bit cramped from being curled up for an extended amount of time. You squirm around a bit, wanting to just stretch out. Chris prevented you from doing that as his bulky frame occupied the space your legs could be.
Leon smirks as he notices your restlessness. He shifts around a bit himself and leans back further into the couch. His feet rise up and land on the coffee table a few feet away, his legs stretching out in front of him. He doesn’t even have to see your face to know your eyes catch on his limbs. Their state of being outstretched only makes your need to do the same more intense. He gives Chris a quick glance.
“You uncomfortable, honey?” the larger man asks you.
Your eyes dart up to meet his. Hearing that pet name coming from anyone else but Leon left you flustered. You tried to reason that it didn’t mean anything. This was clearly another instance of you overthinking. Maybe Chris was just the type of guy who said that sort of thing? The kind that called cashiers sweetheart or darling. The kind who’d put your hand on your waist when saying excuse me. You didn’t remember him acting like this any of the other times you’d met him though. He was always polite with you, but that was about it. Maybe you just didn’t notice before?
“Um… I’m fine. Just a little cramp,” you explain.
He smiles at you, that same kind from earlier. “Well, I don't bite. You can stretch your legs out if you want to, princess,” he teases.
Princess. Ok that was definitely something. That name was reserved solely for the man whose arm was around you, and it usually came out only when he was prepping you to take his cock. You typically heard it as a coo when you were already crying out your own special name for him. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The two just went hand in hand. Honestly, you couldn’t really hear one without the other following close behind.
That’s why you get all timid and shy so easily. You were pretty sure Leon had psychologically conditioned you or something. Just a few touches in the right place, some words whispered in your ear in the perfect hushed tone, and you were a goner. Suddenly, your brain would feel soft and malleable. Urges appear within you to sit in his lap and cuddle. You’d just wanna look up at your daddy with dazed eyes and have him stick something in your mouth.
And sure, it wasn’t like you were brainwashed or something. You still possessed self control. It wasn’t like he’d pet your head and call you his baby, and you’d instantly lose yourself over it. It was just a slow slip into this side of your personality, and being around Chris didn’t exactly deter those feelings from coming out either because just look at him. He looked like he was meant to be called daddy. Whenever Leon would tease you in front of him, it felt like you soaked your panties even quicker than normal.
You're snapped out of your analysis of this moment when you feel a large, warm hand wrap around your ankle. He pulls your leg out, and in-turn, drags you closer. A soft squeak escapes you as your body slides down Leon’s. Your back is still resting against his side, just lower. More of you is spread across the sofa, and your calves were fully in Chris’s lap.
You look up at your boyfriend to see his response to his friend’s action, but he didn’t even seem interested. He barely spared you a second glance in your new position, simply adjusting his arm to accommodate the new location of your head. He wraps it below your jaw and has you rest your chin on the bend of his elbow. His fingers start rubbing soothing, little circles on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Chris’s large palms merely rest on your legs. He gives you a smile before turning his eyes back to the tv screen. You quickly follow suit. If he wasn’t thinking this was weird, you weren’t going to make it weird by dwelling on it.
For a while, it’s fine. The three of you continue watching the show, albeit a little more quiet than before. Leon’s hand remains on your shoulder and keeps up his light touches. Your body relaxes again though as you let go of any nervousness you had. But then, Chris starts moving his hand too.
His palm smooths out over your lower leg. His other hand rubs your ankle, his fingertips coasting over the joint. One is moving in long strokes while the other stays in tight circles, but both go at a sensual pace, slow and teasing.
Your head turns to look at him again, but you find his stare is still on the characters of the tv show. You watch his hands move. They’re now essentially massaging your legs. His hand that had been lower has risen and works on the muscles, digging his warm digits into the flesh.
You squirm a little, trying to alert your boyfriend that his friend was touching you in a way that seemed more than friendly. It doesn’t work though. If he does see, he doesn’t mind because he simply leans down and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head before reverting to his same position. You almost felt crazy for a second. This wasn’t normal, was it? Had you just lived your life not knowing that it was a regular thing for a boyfriend’s friend to give you a massage like this? Was Leon ok with it cause he was there so it couldn’t go too far? You really had no clue.
If you were being honest though, Chris’s hands didn’t feel bad. Not at all. They felt really good. They were big and warm and moved with strategy. They hit all your sweet spots. Kinda made you wanna crawl into his lap so he could rub more of your body, but that was the problem. This wasn’t right. You felt that saccharine heat creeping up your spine and seeping into your head, but you shouldn’t be feeling that for anyone else besides the man behind you.
Now guilt casts a shadow over you too, and the pair of emotions was a volatile mix. You didn’t even realize it, but your nipples had started to stiffen. Your thighs shift against each other, and had you really been paying attention, you would have seen the way Chris’s lips slightly quirked up into a smirk. Your body gets a little tense as you run through the possibilities of what you should do in this situation.
As if Leon could sense your thoughts racing, his hand lowers and starts rubbing your arm. Deciding to remain where you are for now, you press your cheek against his bicep for comfort. Not that you could see, but just like Chris, his expression grows smug. His hand readjusts again so it’s closer to your chest. Your eyes widen as he basically starts feeling you up. His hand squeezes your breast before his fingers circle your nipple, gently tweaking the hardened bud. 
At the same time, the hands on your legs start moving higher. The broad strokes begin meeting your thighs too. Little bumps of anticipation erupt across your skin. You already knew your center would soon be slick. 
Your head feels hot now. It made you feel a weird kind of dizzy. Even though it was only a few hands and simple touches, it was so much. Combined with the fact that it was so unusual, you started feeling overwhelmed. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your hands feel tingly. You feel a whimper rising in your throat. When he finally glides his hands up to the hem of your shorts, your legs jerk and you scoot back.
By the time Chris looks over, you’re already in Leon’s lap, arms around him, face buried against his neck. He’s worried for a second that something was seriously wrong. Profuse apologies rush to the tip of his tongue, but Leon signals him to just wait.
“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” he coos, a hand sliding beneath your shirt to rub your back. Of course, he knew the answer already. He knew exactly how you got with this kind of stuff which is why he knew exactly how to handle it.
You end up simply shaking your head, unable to articulate the exact reason for your distress. Because really, nothing was wrong. Everything felt right. But it shouldn’t feel right? Maybe that’s what was wrong. That’s too much for your mouth to get out while you feel like this though.
“Aw, is my pretty girl feeling shy?” he whispers and strokes your hair.
You nod, pulling back a little to reveal your face and look up at the familiar set of eyes you found so much comfort in. He gives you a small kiss of reassurance before continuing to coax you with his low and soothing tone.
“Oh sweetheart, why are you shy? You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” he says.
“Because…” you start softly, nervously glancing at Chris only to see him watching the entire exchange. You force your attention back to your boyfriend. “Because Chris is here.”
His chest rumbles with a low laugh. “Oh, princess. That’s not a reason. Didn’t you like how Chris was touching you? Wasn’t he making you feel good?”
“I guess…” you admit.
“See? You don’t have to be embarrassed around daddy’s friend. He only wants to play with you because you’re so cute,” he teases and lands a barrage of kisses on your cheek.
You were going to freak out about him using the d word in front of someone else, but looking over at Chris, he didn’t look at all shocked. His eyes were soft and comforting as they watched you, but you were still a little uncertain. You turn your face back into Leon. He keeps rubbing your back and holds you a little closer on his lap.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. I just think you’d have a lot of fun,” Leon says softly, “You know how wet that pretty pussy gets thinking about someone else watching you with daddy, joining in because he just can’t resist a good girl like you.”
He was right. He knew your fantasies like the exact situation playing out in your living room right now. But it was scarier when it was real. You didn’t have the control anymore. That's what made it exciting too though.
“It’s just Chris, honey,” he continues reassuring you, “He’d never hurt you. He thinks you're as precious as I do. But even still, daddy’s gonna be here the whole time. You know I’d never let anything hurt my girl.”
You soften up more, relaxing under Leon’s touch and tender words. As you’re thinking it over, leaning towards going through with this, Chris scoots closer to the two of you on the couch. He tentatively places his hand on your leg and caresses your skin.
“It’s up to you, babydoll,” he says, “I only wanna help your daddy make you feel good.”
Oh god. He was a natural at this, talked down to you just the way you liked.
“See, princess? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Leon says. He strokes some of your hair back and watches as you look at the other man, deciding whether to let him in or not. He chuckles in your ear. “He’s acting cool, but you don’t know how bad he’s been wanting a turn with you. I’m sure you’ve seen him staring. Sometimes I think he’s practically drooling watching you. You know he goes home and strokes his dick raw, wishing it was your pretty little hands instead.”
It’s obvious there’s some truth to Leon’s statement from the way Chris remains silent. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you mull it over. Why was it so bad? You wanted it and they both wanted it. Why should you stop yourself?
You look up at your boyfriend and nod, silently communicating that you wanted this. He smiles and shifts you in his lap so that you’re in a more accessible position. One hand rubs your inner thighs while his other arm stays wrapped around your body to hold you close. 
Upon seeing your confirmation, Chris comes even closer. As he gets situated, Leon leans in and connects his lips with yours in a few soft kisses. Your noses brush and breathing deepens. He strokes your cheek before pulling away and looking in your eyes.
“Why don’t you try that with Chris, baby? Give him some of those kisses he’s been dreaming about,” he breathes.
Your focus shifts to the man sitting to your boyfriend’s right. Eyes casting down, you bring your head forward, and Chris closes the gap. Your breath hitches when you feel the unfamiliar lips meet your own. They’re noticeably different from the pair you were used to, but it wasn’t a bad different.
You move your lips with his, shuddering a little when you feel him grunt. He struggles not to take more than what you give. Leon watches on with a grin, stroking your hair and making sure it was out of your face. Your hand maintains an iron grip on him the entire time. 
“Such a good girl,” he purrs in your ear.
All three of you had long stopped paying attention to the tv, so Leon shuts it off. He then leans in to suck little love bites onto your throat. You whine into your kisses with his friend. The sound causes you to open your mouth, allowing Chris to slip his tongue in to meet yours. You moan and reciprocate the advance. His smiles against your lips as his hand glides up and gropes at one of your breasts, drawing another whimper from you.
Several hickeys later, Leon removes his mouth from your neck to admire his work. His fingers drag over the wet, darkened skin. He licks one more stripe over the area before leaning back and pulling you with him. You’re slightly out of breath, eyes dilated, and lips a bit puffy.
“Aw, look at that face,” Leon teases, talking more to Chris than you, “She loves her kisses. Sometimes I think she likes it more than the actual fucking.”
“I could tell. All those sweet sounds she was making,” Chris chuckles. His chest rises and falls in a pattern similar to yours.
“Oh yeah, so sensitive, my baby,” Leon coos, “You wanna go sit in Chris’s lap and give him some more kisses?”
You shake your head and tighten your grip on his hand. They both smile at your timid display.
“My mistake. You just gotta give her some time to adjust. She’s not used to anyone but daddy. Isn’t that right?” Leon jokes.
You nod and snake your arms around him, hiding your face against his chest again. He couldn’t get enough of how clingy you became when you felt like this.
“No, no. No more being shy. C’mon, his lips still have your spit on ‘em. There’s no reason for you to hide,” he teases you and guides your head back up to see your eyes, “You still wanna do this, don’t you?”
You nod again, looking up at him with those loving eyes.
“That’s what I thought, so how about this?” he starts. He gets your arms to unlock from their position around him and tucks his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “How about we show daddy’s friend more of this precious body, yeah?”
You lift your arms and allow him to tug the fabric up and over your head. Your breasts spring free, but his hands are immediately there to cup them, knead the flesh, and tease your nipples. From his place next to the two of you, Chris’s eyes drop to the swell of your chest.
“You’re even prettier than Leon told me, baby,” he coos before leaning in, giving you one more kiss and then trailing his lips down the side of your throat. They glide over the warm skin and across the expanse of your chest.
Your boyfriend’s hands drop from your breasts, letting Chris’s take their place. You shift and lean back so your back is pressed to Leon’s chest, giving the other man more access. He fondles them before latching his mouth onto a nipple, his tongue swirling around the little peak. A little sigh escapes your lips to the pleasure of both men.
“I think she likes that, Chris,” Leon croons, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.
Chris sucks on the pebbled nub a bit more before alternating to the other one. He spends less time over there before just kissing all over your chest.
“Got such pretty tits,” he grunts, laving a tongue across your skin.
Your face heats up at the compliment, and of course, Leon knew without even having to look. He could tell by the slight way you squirmed your hips on his lap.
“Aw, princess. You like when daddy’s friend calls you pretty?” he coos. Once he sees your little nod, he continues. “How about you let him pull down your shorts and see how cute your cunt is next.”
You agree to this with no hesitation, trying to elevate your hips so he could remove your clothing. Chris smirks at your overt desire. In a quick move, he scoots back and pulls by your hips so that you’re laying across the couch again. Your head is on Leon’s thigh so you can look up at him while your fingers remain tightly interlaced with his.
The larger man peels your shorts off and then your panties. He gazes upon your dripping cunt. His thumb drags up and down through your slick in an exploratory touch.
“Oh, honey,” he breathes, circling your clit. His hand moves down again before he slides two fingers into your hole. “You’re gonna take our cocks so well. Pussy this pretty is made for that.”
You suck in a gasp that turns into a long whine as his digits fill you up. His fingers were nice and thick, filling you up just right. Your eyes flutter, and your head presses against Leon’s thigh. Chris starts pumping them in and out, stroking your inner walls.
“That’s right, baby,” Leon reassures you, “He’s gonna open you up, and you’re gonna feel so good.”
A breathy whimper falls from your lips. Your hips rock a little, but Chris allows it, enjoying your enthusiasm as you become more comfortable. You feel his fingers curling within you in motions that drive you wild and have your hands grabbing at the edges of the couch cushion beneath you.
“There you go, sweet baby. Am I doing it right?” Chris asks teasingly. With your frantic nod, he works a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back and you choke out a moan.
Leon smiles down at you and strokes your hair. His bulge grows harder, watching you get so wound up for his friend.
“Make sure you rub her pretty little clit, Chris. She loves that,” he says, “Might be a little sore since she likes to play with it so much.”
Chris grins at that, taking his turn to tease you now. “Is that right? You like playing dirty, princess? I bet you can’t help it. Cute girls like you get needy so easy. Can’t think without making yourself cum every few hours, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whimper and nod.
“I’ll be gentle then. Think your sweet spot just needs some special kisses,” he coos.
He bends down so his mouth can be level with your cunt, a bit of a challenge with his size, but he manages. His lips meet your clit and give you some soft kisses. A little flick of the tongue and the light movement of his flesh against your sensitive bundle of nerves has your walls fluttering around him, little mewls escaping your lips.
Then, with a harsh suck to your clit, he works a fourth finger inside you. Your legs kick a little, but he simply slides them to rest on his shoulders. Every little twitch next to his head has more of his blood rushing south. Your hips buck too as you adjust to the minor stretch.
“You’re daddy’s perfect girl, you know that right? Girl of my fuckin’ dreams. Doing so good for me right now,” your boyfriend says from above you. His eyes watch on fondly as Chris slides basically his entire hand in and out of you. “Think you can cum for Chris, baby? Gush all over his fingers so it’s nice and easy for him and daddy to fill you up?”
You nod quickly. 
Chris sucks harder on your clit and flicks his tongue against you with more fervor. His hand finds a rhythm that you seemed to like, had you twitching more than before. He could hear your voice rising to a higher pitch.
“C’mon, pretty girl. Make your daddy proud,” he murmurs against your folds.
You really don’t know what it was, but that phrase does you in. You turn your face against Leon’s hip, dig your fingers into his palm, and erupt into a frenzy of whining and bucking your hips. 
Chris continues his efforts, relishing the sensation of your slick coating his fingers and palm. His lips gradually loosen on your swollen bud. He gives it a few more licks before sitting up and gazing down at your blissed out body.
They both give you a second to rest before Leon sits you up on the couch. He gives you a quick kiss and looks into your eyes, hazy from release.
“Think you’re ready for daddy and Chris to fuck you?” he coos and rubs your cheek.
“Mhm,” you hum, returning his loving stare.
“Of course you are. My sweet girl,” he says.
The two men don’t waste time undressing themselves. Clothing piles up on the ground as they match your nudity. Both of them stand as they undo their belts and drop their pants. You’d seen Leon’s dick a hundred times by now. You watch him pull it out and give it a few strokes. The tip flushes bright red like always, a couple familiar veins span up the side. You turn your attention to Chris, looking upon a sight you hadn’t seen before.
You’re snapped out of your post-orgasm stupor when you catch a glimpse of the appendage hanging between Chris’s legs. Just like every other part of him, it’s noticeably thick. The length was good too, sure, but it wasn’t the main attraction. His cock didn’t get as red as Leon’s, but it still had the veins. He even had a few beads of white, sticky precum leaking from the head.
“Oh, you like what you see, baby?” Leon teases when he notices your wonder, “I’m sure Chris would be happy to let you suck on it next time.”
“Daddy, it’s not gonna fit,” you say, looking up at him and ignoring the tempting idea of giving Chris a blowjob.
He smiles down at you, simultaneously condescending and affectionate. “Of course it will. C’mere, princess,” he says. 
In no time at all, Leon’s back on the couch, guiding you on top of him. You crawl to meet the place he’s directing you. Lowering yourself against him, your front rests against his and your head lies near the crook of his neck. The warmth of his body comforts you but not enough to push out your concerns completely.
“You don’t have to worry, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you nice and comfy on daddy’s cock, and then Chris will just slide right in,” he reassures you, “You’re gonna feel so good. You just let me take care of everything.”
His arm had already slithered beneath your hip to line up his shaft with your entrance. He runs the tip through your soaked folds then pushes in. A whiny moan escapes you, and your arms wrap tighter around him. The feeling wasn’t a new one, but it still felt so good. He works himself in and out slowly, hips rocking off the couch in small thrusts.
“That’s my girl, taking it just like you’re meant to. I’ve got you trained so well,” he murmurs against your hair.
The entire time, you feel Chris’s eyes on you. His pupils fixated on the sight of Leon pumping in and out of your gushing cunt. You hear him spit down onto his hand and know he’s started to stroke himself in anticipation. Other than that, he stays quiet, locked onto you sucking up every inch of your boyfriend's cock.
Leon continues gliding in and out. You feel the muscles in his chest and neck straining with the pleasure your pulsing walls give him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Chris did a good job with you,” he groans. His breaths become ragged as he staves off true euphoria. This couldn’t end too quickly. “You know, babydoll, I don’t think you said thank you to Chris for making you feel so good. That’s not very nice.”
You whimper as your brain registers the implication of his words. At the moment, you were more focused on rolling your hips with Leon’s, but you force some words out of your mouth cause you’re a good girl after all.
“Sorry daddy,” you say, cut off by a whine as he pokes a sensitive spot, “T-thank you, Chris.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he responds. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, but you don’t have the chance to linger on it since you feel his broad palm land on the small of your back. His fingers rub the skin gently, as if to keep you calm while he positions himself on his knees behind you. You whine again and cling harder to Leon.
“You can say thank you better than that, baby,” he teases, trying to keep any fear away from you. He presses a kiss to your temple as well and rubs your back, “What are you thanking him for?”
“Thank you for making me cum, Chris. Your fingers and kisses felt so good,” you whimper, adding on the last bit before Leon could correct you further.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” he repeats with excessive adoration, “You deserve it for being such a good girl. Besides, that pussy was so fucking sweet, makes me want another taste.”
You squeeze around Leon and bite your lip as your lower belly erupts with butterflies. And then you feel it. You feel the hot tip of Chris’s heavy cock nudging at your entrance above Leon’s. You tense and dig your fingers into the flesh of his back.
“Just relax, baby. You’re gonna be just fine. Daddy’s right here,” he coos and holds you tighter against his chest.
“You ready?” Chris asks softly.
You squeeze your eyes shut but nod, waiting to feel the stretch.
And it comes right away. You gasp as another cock enters you. Whining, your hands scramble to grab at something. Leon takes one and squeezes it lovingly, pausing his thrusts. You bury your face against his skin, your chest erratically puffing as you try to accommodate the sizes. Both men are groaning, eyes fluttering or rolled back, muscles flexing as they take in the tight, wet heat engulfing them.
“Doing so good, pretty girl, so good,” Leon mutters.
You can’t fathom any kind of response. The burning sensation of both of them was still so intense and from what you could tell, Chris wasn’t even all the way in yet. He was still pushing forward as far as he could. At a certain point, you can’t fight off the tears pricking at your waterline. Your free hand clamps over your mouth as a choked cry tumbles out.
“So fucking tight, I could cum right now,” Chris grunts.
Leon’s hand covers your right hip, tracing tiny soothing circles over your skin. Chris occupies your left, digging his fingers into the flesh. The subtle difference between the two sides drives you further into the throes of ecstasy.
When Chris manages to bully his cock nearly all the way inside you, as deep as it could go at least, Leon feels your hot tears sliding off your cheeks and pooling on his chest.
“Oh, poor baby,” he croons. He lets go of your hand for a second to swipe a few drops away, but then he takes it back. “You ok, honey? Too much for you?”
You weakly shake your head that it wasn’t too much, sniffling between whimpers. They’ve both stopped now to let you get used to the entirety of them. The site of your connection pulses with need on all three accounts. You feel Chris gripping you a little harder in an effort to keep his composure.
“My tough girl, so brave for daddy. Makin’ me so proud,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.
“So fuckin’ pretty too. You look gorgeous all filled up like this,” Chris moans from behind you.
His gaze remains on his and Leon’s cocks splitting you open. He starts rocking his hips a bit, groaning at the combined feeling of your slick walls with Leon’s length rubbing against his. Leon starts moving again too.
You let out a sound that’s between a yelp and a moan. Both of Leon’s arms snake around you to keep you engulfed in his embrace. He’s more vocal than usual, the mix of stimulation getting to him as well.
“That’s right. You keep crying for your daddy. Let me hear how much you need me. Just cry it out like the good little girl you are,” he mumbles against you.
Once you’ve become comfortable with the stretch, it starts feeling better than you’d imagined. In tandem, they’re stroking every part of you. They slide in and out, back and forth, pulling soft whines from you. The only noise apart from the three of you grunting and moaning, is the obscene noises that come from them pumping into your wet pussy. You feel your ability for coherent thoughts slipping away. You just wanted to be full of your daddy and his friend.
Chris smacks your ass while picking up his pace a bit. “Now she’s getting into it,” he says.
You get a little louder to both their enjoyment. Grabbing at Leon a little more, you shudder while hearing moans bubble up from his chest and out of his mouth.
“That’s cause you’re such a good girl. Right baby?” he asks, his voice breathier, “So good at whining for your daddy’s cock.”
You nod without a second thought. You’re panting a bit as the thrusts start hitting just right. Your expressions and the tightening of your cunt give you away. You hear both of them groaning and getting a little more primal with their movements.
“You feel that, Chris? She’s getting closer. Can always tell by the way her pussy starts trying to keep me in. So desperate for some cum,” Leon says.
“Yeah. I can feel her cute little cunt begging for it,” Chris growls.
They’re both going harder, making your mind get all fuzzy and causing more tears to fall, although by this time they’re purely tears of pleasure. Your cries are whiny and needy.
“My baby, my baby,” Leon grunts while lacing his fingers in your hair, “I want you to cum for me, ok? Wanna feel you cumming all over our cocks. Show Chris how good you make me feel every single night when you start clamping down on me.”
You don’t finish right then. It takes a handful more thrusts from each of them to hit the right buttons and work you over that edge, dropping you into a pool of euphoria. The bliss washes over you, and as Leon described, your pussy squeezes around them in waves. They’re both moaning now, grabbing you harder, sighing and gasping. You twitch on top of Leon, and he holds you close and helps you through it.
“Look at that sweet face. Always so pretty when you let go,” he mumbles just for you to hear, “Keep cumming, dolly. Want you feeling like you’re in heaven.”
Leon’s the first to blow his load, shooting it deep inside you. He pumps it in while you’re still releasing. His own hips twitch and buck while that hot, sticky liquid flows from him. 
Chris takes a bit longer, savoring every last moment he has inside your precious cunt. He keeps thrusting after you’ve finished, making you squirm with the slight overstimulation. Leon hisses too, feeling the friction from his movements against his dick.
When he finally does cum, your body is overtaken with a shiver. He fucks it deep into you. His thrusts don’t weaken while he spills it inside of you. He keeps moving in powerful strokes until he’s satisfied.
After he’s truly done, Chris leans down and kisses the space between your shoulder blades. “So good, pretty baby,” he praises softly before pulling out.
It feels weird just having Leon’s dick in you. It’s your normal but so strange now too. He slides himself out next though, so there isn’t too much time to fester on that. Sitting up, he pulls you with him while covering your face in kisses.
Everyone is laid back right now, letting the post-high wear off as you all come down. You stay curled up to Leon like you always did after finishing. He rubs your back like normal, knowing your head was most likely still up in the clouds. Eventually, all of your breathing steadies and returns to a regular pace.
Your hazy eyes open and gaze over at Chris. “Thank you Chris,” you say, tone a bit dreamier than it usually is.
“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, smiling at you.
“Look at you, so polite,” Leon teases, “By the looks of it, you’re gonna be sitting on Chris’s lap soon enough and leaving me on the sidelines.”
You shake your head and nuzzle him. All of you take a brief moment to finish the descent back to normalcy. Chris stands to pull on his pants again. 
“We’ll get there one of these days,” he jokes.
“I don’t know about that. This one’s a daddy’s girl before anything else,” Leon says, before smooching your forehead.
1K notes · View notes
byuntrash101 · 19 days
Text
𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐
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pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins
rating — smut | mdni
wc — 13.7k
synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.
nsfw tags under the cut
tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end
playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie
ateez masterlist | navigation
a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3
also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333
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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.
He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.
“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.
“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.
Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.
“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.
“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 
“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.
Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.
“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.
“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.
“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.
A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.
“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.
“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.
“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.
When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 
“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”
Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 
“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.
“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.
“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.
“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.
“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”
Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).
“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.
“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.
With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.
She’s perfect.
That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.
Divine.
Was what described her best.
“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.
“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.
“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”
***
You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.
You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies. 
You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.
But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.
Porn. A pornographic magazine.
The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.
The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.
“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.
“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.
“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.
As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck. 
Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.
When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.
“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.
A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.
Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.
As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.
“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.
***
You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.
So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.
You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.
“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.
“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.
“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.
You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.
Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.
“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.
It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.
You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.
It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.
“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.
It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.
Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.
You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.
You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.
“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.
“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.
The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.
Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.
“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.
“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”
“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.
Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.
So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.
The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.
***
“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.
“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”
“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”
“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?” 
“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”
“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.
“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning. 
“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.
“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.
“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.
“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”
“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho. 
“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.
“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.
“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.
“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.
“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others. 
“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”
“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.
“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.
“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.
“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”
“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.
“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.
“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.
Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.
“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.
“She’s waiting for me”
***
“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”
The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.
“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.
As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.
You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.
You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.
Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.
You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.
As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.
“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.
“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”
“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.
“Unfortunately yes”
“I see… I can come right now”
“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.
“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.
“Thank you”
***
“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.
You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.
“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.
“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.
As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.
“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.
“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.
He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.
His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.
He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.
You led him to the faulty boiler.
Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.
“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.
While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.
You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.
When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.
Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.
Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.
You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.
But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…
Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.
But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.
This feeling of Lust.
It was completely foreign to you.
If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.
“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”
“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.
“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”
“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.
With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.
“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”
“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”
“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.
“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.
“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.
“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”
Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.
Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.
You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.
If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.
But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.
And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…
Again, you stepped back.
“WHAT?!” San shouted.
“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.
Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.
“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.
Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.
He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.
“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.
Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.
You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.
“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.
“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.
***
When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.
You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.
With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.
But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.
You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.
You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.
When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling! 
You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.
You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.
You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.
The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.
“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.
His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.
“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.
The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.
You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.
“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.
Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.
Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.
From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.
But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.
Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.
“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.
“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.
Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.
“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.
“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.
“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.
A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.
You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it. 
“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.
“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.
“What business?” you whimpered.
“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.
This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.
“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.
“It’s to finally touch you.”
So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.
“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.
His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.
The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.
You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.
Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.
“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.
“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.
“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.
You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.
“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.
He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.
“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.
With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.
“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.
Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.
“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.
You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.
“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.
“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.
Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.
“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.
But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.
“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.
“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.
“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.
“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.
But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.
Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.
“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.
But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.
You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.
“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.
Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.
But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.
“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.
His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.
“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.
“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.
“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.
“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.
“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”
Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.
Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.
You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.
When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.
“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.
Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.
Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.
“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.
Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.
Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.
There it was. The Absolute Sin.
Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.
You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.
Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.
Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.
He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.
“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.
“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.
“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.
“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”
What? No… It isn’t possible.
There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.
“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.
Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.
“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”
The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.
“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”
Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.
“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.
Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.
“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.
“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.
“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”
Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil. 
You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.
Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.
Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.
Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.
“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.
But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…
“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.
You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.
“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.
Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.
“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.
But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.
“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.
You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.
“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.
You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.
“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.
“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.
“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.
“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.
“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.
“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.
“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.
“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.
“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”
Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.
The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.
Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.
“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.
“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.
“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.
“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.
“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.
“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.
His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.
“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.
“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.
“Yeshhh” you mumbled.
“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.
“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.
“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”
Your eyes snapped back open.
“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.
“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.
“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.
“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.
Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.
Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process. 
You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside. 
You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.
Lust.
***
The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.
In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.
You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.
You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-
“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.
Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.
Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.
“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.
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sixosix · 7 months
Text
summary you take it upon yourself to make it up to lyney when he couldn’t perform on the night he looked forward to the most—and lyney falls a little harder.
or, sickfic, basically, but it’s more than that
warnings wc 3k, mentions of injuries and blood, fluff!!! and a bit of angst oops
A/N @hiraethsdesires wanted to get tagged so here u goo!!! hope u like reading it <3
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“For the last time, Lyney,” you sigh, shoving one more macaron in the small, red box with the same shade as the accents of his hat, “I can’t attend your show.”
It’s a stroke of luck for him that you don’t have a line right now, or else you would’ve kicked him out the moment you saw him enter, fully expecting he doesn’t intend on leaving right away.
Lyney droops dramatically, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Seriously? Not this week either?”
“Not this week either. Not ever, I’m pretty sure I told you.” You push the box against his chest, to which he responds eagerly by situating his free hand firmly over yours.
He keeps his grip firm when you try tugging your hands away. He bores his eyes into yours, too sincere and open for a performer such as himself—you feel a bit of your will chip away. “That night is special to me. Won’t you consider again?”
“Why is it special?”
Lyney’s lips curl into a smirk, striking right when you’ve faltered. “Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”
You jerk your hands out of his grip as he laughs. “Bold assumption,” you say, smiling a little when Lyney cries a ‘come onnnn’. “Lyney, I already said—”
“—That you have no one else to take care of the shop if you leave, I know, I know,” Lyney interrupts with clear disdain. “But don’t you think I deserve a bit of compensation? Surely you recognize my efforts in being this bakery’s most loyal customer. Most purchases and most compliments to the prettiest owner.”
You roll your eyes, but you do give it a bit of thought. Lyney has been the reason why your humble little shop tucked in some hidden corner of Fontaine’s city has been gaining attention. You’ve definitely increased in customers ever since Lyney took it upon himself to come over every day with a Rainbow Rose and a dream (and Mora).
“If I attend to one, will you promise it’ll be the last?”
Lyney’s expression shifts instantly. He beams, leaning close enough until your noses are touching. You swear you can see the sparkles in his eyes. “I can’t promise anything if you enjoy it so much you keep coming back for more.”
“Don’t push it,” you say.
“I won’t, I won’t,” Lyney murmurs, his smile turning softer. “You’re not joking around, right? That’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes, I guess.”
He kisses your hand three times, saying, “I’ll make it the best night of your life, I promise,” between them.
You look forward to it. You wouldn’t tell it to his face, but if he were to look closer and see the tremble of your hands to the smile on your face, he’d know anyway.
Lyney doesn’t come over the next day.
You will yourself not to feel too disappointed. You have no right to be. Every time he does visit, he’d just invite you to one of his shows under the guise of ordering whatever you tell him is the best seller of the day, and every time, you’d reject his offer. Yesterday was an exception—on a whim.
Maybe he got a revelation, thinking that he'll find it boring when he finally got you in his grasp.
It certainly doesn’t help that Lyney still hasn't come to visit the day after that, which happened to be the same day of the performance.
They canceled the show, you hear them say, from outside on the streets and even in the walls of your bakery. What a shame; I was looking forward to it.
So was I, you want to say through gritted teeth.
You knew their fame knew no bounds, but it was only then that embarrassment crept in when you realized that the show star, Lyney himself, frequented your small shop with a bouquet in hand to invite you personally. And you had the gall to reject him.
You also learn that the bakery feels much more empty without his blazing presence.
The moment you finish watching the customer exit the shop with two paper bags in their arms, you rush to fling your apron off and flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’.
You don’t often leave the bakery in fear of missing out on what could be busy days, but this is more important than that. You can’t handle working idly for another hour with guilt in your stomach urging you to do something.
You must look like a sight: speeding through the pathway with a bit of flour on your clothes and a determined glint in your eyes. Only when you spot a familiar house overhead do you pause to take a deep breath.
You can do this. You need to find out what happened.
“He got sick?”
Lynette nods, sighing in defeat. “Would you like to come in? I’ll explain as I make tea.”
You glance around unsurely, feeling a little out of place. You occasionally break the heart of the brother of this woman currently inviting you inside their home. You can only hope that Lyney hasn’t been lamenting his bakery troubles to his sister.
Lynette directs you to the loveseat of their small living room before padding over to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says in her endearing ever-monotone voice.
“I’m okay, thank… you…” Your gaze catches on a picture frame on the desk beside the seat of Lyney, Lynette, and what you can only assume from stories he’s shared is Freminet. Lynette is far from the camera, staring into the distance and sipping tea. Freminet is smiling awkwardly with no teeth, and the one eye he has visible isn’t even staring at the camera. Then Lyney sits in the middle, holding the camera with two arms and a wide grin, eyes screwed shut and his face so open.
You feel as if you’ve just caught a glimpse of something so personal, and the thought of that twists your heart and pushes it to beat twice as fast as normal. You’ve never seen him smile like that before. (You briefly wonder what it would be like to see it happen personally.)
“I’ve never seen him get this high of a fever before,” Lynette says, rousing you from your trance. She hands you a cup of tea, steam emanating from the cup.
“How did he even get sick?”
“I’m not sure… It could be because of the thunderstorm yesterday—he was out at that time and came home like that. He seemed really excited for tonight, too. Lyney kept telling me that this one would be special.”
“Because you will be coming to watch, of course.”
You nearly choke in your first sip because of your own thoughts.
Lynette looks back up at you over the rim of her cup. “With the stress of not being able to perform tormenting him, I assume he wouldn’t be getting better in time for the show. Or at least, not tonight at all.”
“Ah,” you voice lamely. You can’t even imagine the look of pure distress on Lyney’s sweet face—it hurts to even think about it. He’s done so much for you and even promised a whole show, only to fall sick before he could make it come true.
Will he think he’s at fault for this?
With your fingernails digging crescents on your palms, you quietly ask, “…Can I come visit him? Or would that be too much?”
Lynette’s gaze sharpens a little. “Has my brother told you the truth of our identities?”
“Most of everyone found out after the trial,” you answer without missing a beat.
“And still, you choose to care for Lyney?”
Is this a shovel talk? Are you experiencing a shovel talk right now?
“He makes it hard not to,” you say weakly; it’s the truth. You’re here because Lyney, throughout his little visits, has made you care so deeply for him that you started to look forward to each visit. “…Is that a no? Was that too much of a request?”
Lynette has a ghost of a smile on her face. “It’s perfect.”
The room is silent as you enter. You feel shame for visiting someone’s room without them knowing, even though you’ve been given complete permission by his own sister. Still, your face burns the closer you reach Lyney’s bed.
“Hey, Lyney,” you murmur as you kneel beside the bed. “I brought some of your favorites.”
He doesn’t respond, much to no one’s surprise. You wonder why you feel so disappointed that those lilac eyes aren’t looking at you, begging you, wooing you. Defeated, you place the bag of macarons on his bedside table, mostly an excuse to inspect his face closer.
His brows are furrowed, and a thin layer of sweat is on his forehead, even in his sleep. He looks nicer in casual clothes and his hair free from products.
A bowl of water is near his head, with a towel sitting in the bottom.
“You get really sick when you get it, huh?” you muse to no one in particular, gently wiping the sweat off his forehead. Then to his neck, where the warmth of his fever nearly burns you just by hovering close.
Lyney shifts a little. You pause with bated breath. Still, he doesn’t wake up.
“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, taking the bowl in your hands.
His nose is really red. You shouldn’t be finding it cute—really, what’s wrong with you recently?
But your movement brushed against the blanket over his torso and, with it, came revealing the side of his waist. His stomach is wrapped with bandages, and a spot of dried blood is seeping in on the bandage on his side.
Your eyes widen in horror, nearly making a loud, indecipherable noise before you catch yourself.
You rush to the door, finding Lynette in the same spot of the loveseat where you left her. Her eyes flick up to you, brows arched in surprise.
“Lynette, he—”
She catches on quickly. “He’s alright,” Lynette says, though her ears are curled back in distress. “He’s been given help. We knew of someone affiliated with Hydro and its healing properties. He’s alright.”
Well. Of course, she knew; she’s his sister. You can’t bear the thought of Lyney in the middle of a thunderstorm, finding himself in front of Lynette, bleeding. You feel sick just thinking about it. You can’t possibly imagine what Lynette has been going through, having to take care of her brother by herself.
You hesitate. “Can I come back here tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Wait—really?”
Lynette pauses. “Should I have not said yes?”
“I just thought you’d be a little more stern with me because of… you know…”
“I respect those who put my brother in his place,” Lynette says, then: “And those who don’t run from us when they find out what our identities are,” and that’s that.
“You brought a flower,” is the first thing Lynette says as soon as she opens the door the following morning.
“He gives me one every visit,” you explain, and you’re not quite sure why it’s humiliating to do so. “So, I want to pay him back at least this once.”
“Rainbow Rose,” Lynette notes as she shuts the door softly. You follow her into Lyney’s room, but she halts before you two can reach the door at arm’s length. “Do you know what this one means?”
You look at the Rainbow Rose nestled in your palm. It's been well taken care of since he gave it to you—all of them had been. “No, I can’t say that I do…?”
“He’s given everyone else Lumidouce Bells because this flower is a little more special.”
Lynette reaches for your hand, gently pushing the Rainbow Rose until you’re holding it against your chest.
She looks into your eyes. “That flower is like him giving his heart to you. Please, take care of it some more. Don’t give it back, okay?”
And as you mull over her words, she leaves. And left you standing in front of Lyney’s room alone, with your entire face feeling as if it’s been burnt by the sun.
But this is no time for distractions, no matter the implications. Lyney still hasn’t woken up yet, and it’s time to pay him back. He deserves that much.
“You finally feel better?”
Lyney blinks. Or, at least, he tries to, but his eyes weigh heavier than usual. He lays back down and chooses to close them back again. “Ugh…” he rasps out, “Lynette. My side is still hurting a little, but it’s much more bearable than yesterday. I thought I was about to die!”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lynette says, handing him a glass of water. “You already caused quite a scene.”
“Hmmm?” Lyney answers absentmindedly, finding himself ready to fall asleep again.
“You didn’t get injured yesterday. That was five days ago. And the bakery shop owner kept coming over every day.”
Lyney’s eyes definitely open at that. “What did you say?”
Lynette’s tail flicks. “The bakery has been closed for about four days now, and no one else but I know that it’s because the person responsible for it has been here in this room instead, taking care of you. It was even on The Steambird.”
Lyney’s finding it difficult to catch up. “Wait… wait. Are you saying…”
“You made Y/N, Freminet, and I worry so much, you know,” she chides.
Lyney’s heart shatters. “Does that mean—my wound—”
“I wasn’t the one changing your bandages,” Lynette says with a tiny smile as she watches her brother’s face explode in red. “Do you still feel tired?”
“Not at all!” Lyney springs up from his bed, his grin wild and insane. His side will most definitely punish him for this, but that’s far in the back of his mind. “Ah, so Y/N does care. All my efforts weren’t in vain!”
Lynette sighs, but still stays to listen.
“And—bandaging my wounds? While I was out cold? How intimate… My heart is racing at the thought of it.” He clutches his chest, because it’s true despite his dramatics.
“I’ve never seen Y/N before; I’ve only heard of what you told me every time you came back from the bakery,” Lynette starts, urging him to lie back down. She presses a towel on his forehead, and he yelps because it feels ice-cold. “But you seem wrong about every assumption, Lyney. I know the face of someone who cares.”
Lyney falters, his expression softening impossibly. “Y/N’s not mad I missed out on the show I promised…?”
“Y/N was worried about the same thing, but in your shoes.”
Lyney hides his face with his hands, but that’s a fruitless attempt. Lynette has a clear view of his red ears. “I can’t tell if I’m elated or mortified,” he groans. “Both, perhaps?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Lynette says, getting up at the same time the door swings open.
“I’m sorry I’m late!” you exclaim, though hushedly. “Lynette, I brought food to eat. Here, help yourself. Has Lyney woken up yet?”
“Oh, he…” Lynette takes your handmade lunch and glances down at her brother, briefly surprised to see him with his eyes shut and his breathing as steady as it had been when he was sleeping. “Excuse me, I want to eat.”
“Wait, Lynette—” you start, but Lynette is already walking away and eventually shuts the door. She must be very excited to eat her food.
You turn to Lyney, and the world falls silent. Lyney doesn’t know why he’s terrified of you finding out he’s awake. Was it guilt? Shame for a promised night in ruin, or humiliation for seeing him at his lowest point? He grips the sheet under the blanket tighter. His heart racing seems like it’s neither of those.
“Hello again, Lyney,” you say in a low whisper, and all of a sudden, his grip loosens, and his shoulders lose tension. “You should wake up soon. I promised Lynette I’d bake your favorite dessert if you do.”
You're not expecting any reply, ceremoniously reaching for the towel on his bedside table, like you’ve lived here as much as he has been.
The steady beat of your heart calms him, and he wonders how you aren’t hearing how fast his is beating yet.
Lyney finds himself enjoying being under your tender care, until the warmth on his side disappears and he panics instantly. His eyes fly open just in time for him to see you leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek.
Lyney slips, instinctively reaching out to hold your head in place.
You both freeze, staring at each other wide-eyed.
His thoughts race. Four days. You’ve closed the bakery shop you swore to him you wouldn’t ever abandon just for anyone—yet you did for him. You’ve been taking care of him. And kissing his cheek, for god’s sake. Four days you’ve been caring for him so sweetly, and he wasn’t awake enough to experience all of it himself.
“You’re—you’re awake!” you exclaim, your hands on both of his cheeks. “Lyney, oh, you’re— Wait, how long have you been—”
Lyney silences you with a kiss on the side of your mouth. He smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “You shouldn’t promise my dessert,” he says, and he winces when his voice doesn’t come out as smoothly as intended. “I don’t want any more promises to break.”
“You didn’t break any promise, Lyney,” you say softly, and he blinks when your eyes glisten. “You’re awake right now, aren’t you?”
“Then,” he straightens to sit up, grinning, “let me make it up to you. I promised you a night you would never forget, didn’t I?”
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A/N not another lyney fic...
3K notes · View notes
eupheme · 6 months
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— meet me in the woods
halsin x druid!reader/tav
rated e - 7.2k
tags: double druids, smut with feelings, aphrodisiac (in the form of a fertility solstice), mates/mating rituals, hinted at breeding kink, poly!halsin (but has a connection with you), pleasure dom!Halsin, canon-typical violence, masturbation, miscommunication, oral, PiV, size kink, multiple orgasms, cum play
Living in the city had muted your druidic powers, cut you off. That all had changed, in your journey across Faerûn. Something inside of you had cracked open - letting nature and instinct sink in.
And in spite of the feelings now burning inside you - you don’t know what it means to celebrate the Solstice. Luckily for you… Halsin is there to help you through your first.
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The sky has started to slip from soft shades of blue to deep orange and purples. Your wrist aches from where you scrub at your hide armor, removing the layers of grime from the long days of travel.
Your eyes flick up, like they have three times already in the last ten minutes. Across the twist of smoke from the fire that Gale tends, a cauldron of stew that has begun to fill the camp with it's rich aroma.
To where he lounges. To where your eyes meet soft green.
You look away.
"Do you think he's looking at us?"
You don't mean to ask this question out loud. It's a thought that swirls in your mind - slipping between teeth and a tongue loosened from a warm afternoon under the sun and a flagon of crisp wine.
There's the cutting strike of shale against steel. Sharp eyes flicking across to where yours have slipped, once again.
A lip curling, with the click of a tongue.
"Chk. I've seen that look on a male before." Lae'zel's tone is knowing, the slightest hint of a smirk sent your way, as she sharpens the edge of her longsword, "A bear that wishes to devour."
You blink, glancing her way at the humor in her voice. Trying to ignore the fluttering flip in your stomach at the thought.
"Oh, I am not so sure he sees me that way." Your knuckles curl as they press into a stain, your eyes dropping in mock concentration.
A red eye cracks open near your hip, Astarion's head propped up on the wrap of your bedroll. Curled like a cat under the sun and with the wafting warmth of the fire - a hand coming up to shield the bright glare above.
If it had been anyone else lazing next to you, you might have asked them to lend you a hand with the basket of vegetables for the stew - the next in your long list of things to-do. But secretly, you were just pleased he chose to spend the afternoon near you.
"Gods - I took you for boring, darling. But I never took you for stupid." He sighs, with a stretch.
Well, you had been pleased.
He ignores your look of offense as he pushes himself up on an elegant elbow, chin propped in the cup of his hand, "I don't think he's stopped looking at you since he's joined us."
A wistful sigh, "It's enough to make me wish I had saved that child."
Before his nose wrinkles, as he reappraises that thought with displeasure.
"Appreciate that, friend." Your response to his earlier remark is flat, as he flops down again.
"Oh, don't be like that," He drawls, "You were the one who asked."
The misdirection is noted with a small huff of a laugh, as you turn back to work again. Flipping around their thoughts in your own mind.
How you wish that were true.
Your own feelings were no secret to yourself. There had been no pretending in your heart, after your first meeting. Even if you had not always known the strength of your powers, you had always known yourself.
There had been a near-instant attraction with your first meeting. A suspicion that there was something special about the bear trapped in the worg pens. That feeling blossoming with the fluttering in your stomach when he had changed - the depth of his thanks at your aid in protecting the Grove.
A seed had been planted then. A hope that perhaps, with time - with some tending - that there could be more. That feeling only grows since, flourishing, weaving its way between your ribs.
And lately, you think there has been something more. His laugh comes easier. An eagerness to join you when you left the camp. Never far from you, when you return.
You were the first one he turned to after the rage of battle.
“Are you well, teuivae?”
As if you could not mend your own wounds. The word that slipped from his tongue lost as his eyes searched - until he was satisfied that the blood splattered across your leather armor was not your own. Broad hands that cupped your face. Close enough to brush his own against yours, but instead he had hovered.
Waiting - but for what, you did not know.
It had you wondering. You suppose enough now that those thoughts have made their way out into the world. Not knowing what to do, with your friend’s confirmation.
That feeling only increases, the turn of the moon turning it into a surging weight in your chest. Something physical, that gnaws at you. Tipping past want and hurtling towards something that felt like need.
Your thoughts of desire running wild, until you can’t help but slip your fingers beneath the layers of your bedroll. Your teeth biting into the heavy fabric that muffles the quick circle of your fingers, the soft sigh of your relief.
It was hard not to. To see him that way, to want him.
He is kind. Almong the best Elves you have met. He could take care of you. Your mind tells you, now. Protect you.
A very instinctual thought, one that you’ve brushed aside. You don’t need protecting. How could one protect against the tadpole, better than you already are?
But the thought comes back.
He would keep you safe. You know that, as certain as the changing of the seasons.
How quick he already is to race to your side - all teeth and claws. Imagining the honor of sharing his bedroll, how he’d wrap around you…
Only now do you realize you’ve been staring - your damp rag hovering in your still hands. A small shake of your head as you concentrate on your work. Making a point not to look again, to push the thoughts from your mind.
You really needed to get a hold of yourself.
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You’re still thinking about it later, as dusk settled. The sky now streaked with hues of purple and grey, the camp littered with small fires and torches. Bellies full of stew, content to wind down after the long day.
Under the stars, it's impossbile to ignore just how much things have changed.
In the city, everything had felt muted.
Even in the outskirts, the small towns you had flitted to. The desire to fit in cutting off your attunement with nature.
But, after the Nautiloid. After you had crashed down to the Wilderness. Met the others - truly embraced who and what you were - things had changed.
You felt more like yourself than ever.
Even when you thought your time left was marked by days. Hours.
The warmth of the sun against your face. Acres of trees, the bark rough beneath your fingers as you climbed.
It seeped into your skin. Invigorating you. That liminal space between beast and body melding as you changed freely, unrestrained by space or propriety.
It was freeing.
You didn't have a coven, in the city. A lone wolf - left to wander along.
Forgetting how it felt to channel the forces of nature, with the night air wrapping around you. A bond formed when you had met Halsin, your first prolonged contact with another Druid in years. Something had been planted, watered with admiration, carefully tended in the absence that had soon come.
An urge to stay at the Druid's Grove, once the fight was over. Something unlocking in you, a need for kinship.
It had been ignored - there had been no other option. But it was like part of you stayed cracked open. Inviting nature, the whims of Silvanus, to eddy inside you. Growing potent, under the wax and wane of the moon above.
Intimate feelings mixing their way in along the way. Undeterred by the quiet, shared murmurs. Of rumors and whispers of Halsin's many lovers - good natured ribbing about his scar.
You had often thought your heart was too large to belong to only one other. It had been a relief, when you heard Halsin speak the same, around the fire.
Not fearing a connection, but not limiting it. Like nature itself, he had said. His eyes had found yours - you had taken it as some sort of lesson, from the Archdruid.
Perhaps it had been an invitation, instead.
The thought is pleasing to you. Enough so that you think… you think it’s worth being brave for.
You can’t help but seek him out, once more. Thick arms cross over a broad chest as he talks, though you’re too far away to hear. But it doesn’t stop his gaze from finding yours over the top of Wyll’s head. The way his friendly smile softens, a look you suddenly feel certain is just for you.
One you return, as that thing inside your chest swells. Blooms.
You’ve trusted your gut so far.
You’re ready to trust it again.
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There is a stirring. A rooting, something sprouting in his chest. A feeling that has flickered before, but never this strong.
It had been easy, for gratitude and respect to bleed into something more, after their first meeting. After seeing such a fierce little thing take down two goblins with the flash of sharp teeth, sharper claws. A worg following, almost bigger than themselves.
Few would have stood before him, after. A frown as ferocious as their bear-form as she had offered her own opinion on how to handle the Druid Kagha, though his sentence had already been bestowed.
It had been hard not to smile.
There had been more pressing matters that had kept him away, after. Denying the offer to join her - them - the Emerald Grove had needed him more.
But still, something had lingered.
A connection. Something invisible that ties them together, that has nothing to do with the being that squirms in her mind. It begins lower - beneath the cage of ribs and where, perhaps, something soft lies.
It has him feeling like a yearling again, in spite of his three hundred and fifty years amongst Faerûn.
As the moons have passed, he'd become too accustomed to the gleam of her fur, in the sunlight. Nearly blinding him. Eyes as sharp and a tongue as quick as his.
Her true form as pretty as a field of wildflowers, of the rainbow spray of colors against the mist of a waterfall.
Evenly matched, he has thought. More than once.
The sentiment settles in his bones, trapping him - a rabbit in a snare. Though he's not so desperate to be freed, as he might have thought. The idea of being tied down had never been appealing.
But there is no urge to leave. To walk amongst the forest again, to find his way back to the Druid's Grove, for Spring. To dance and join beneath the moon, like he had for so long.
A more singular focus taking over his thoughts, as the rite approaches. A deep-seated hope, his affections shown in the ways known by his people.
Many have begun their attachments in the span of evenings to follow. Perhaps they would take the same path, if is she was willing.
The thought is more than pleasing.
It has him seeking out the eyes that fall on him so often. Finding where they linger now, in the flickering of the fire. The look she gives him - one of consideration, one of seeing in a new light - is one he knows well.
The beast inside him can read the subtle looks like tracks in the mudbank. The glitter of lights in her eyes like runes - etching a message just for him.
Enough that when she turns from the fire, when she pushes herself so carefully up - slipping like a shadow, into the forest...
It's impossible not to follow.
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You can feel him behind you, as you weave through the trees.
Anticipation, excitement, pricking up the hairs on the back of your neck. Guided by the stars that sift through the canopy of leaves above.
Your feet know the way, though your mind does not. Guided by something primal inside you, taking you to a small clearing.
Grass blankets the space, tucked away in the forest. Dotted with wildflowers, a break in the branches above to let down a shaft of moonlight.
The armor you once clung to left back at the camp. An innate knowledge that there was something special about this place - that you were safe here. Protected by your own abilities. Even more so, with him following.
There is much said, in the look that he gives you as you turn. The shift of his shoulders as he approaches, a slow nod of approval as his eyes sweep across the clearing.
“You’ve chosen this spot well. The Solstice, could you feel it?”
His words make you frown, suddenly unsure. The curve of his smile wanes at your silence, as he takes another step closer, “Is that not why you’ve come here?”
The hope you’ve carried sinks, settling low in your belly. So unlike the weight that was there before - one of hunger and desire.
“I must confess, I had been hoping.” He continues, with a cock to his head, “But it seems like we are on different paths.”
You have to answer him, you know this. It takes a second to gather your courage, this meeting quickly taking a much different turn that you have expected.
“I do not know anything of your Solstices. I came here because I hoped…” Your gaze drops, unable to look at him, “I had hoped that you would follow. That this night might be ours.”
A hand cups your jaw, tilting your head up. To your surprise he is smiling, his thumb stroking across your cheek, “Your answer relieves me. We are not so far apart. I thought I had been clear, but it seems you are still unsure of my intentions.”
Something flips in your stomach, melting the spray of ice that has coated your insides. A small flutter of hope, as your eyes search his green ones, “What do you mean?”
“I have become so accustomed to your presence, that I’ve forgotten that our ways are still unknown to you.” His voice softens, and you can’t help but lean into his touch - hanging on to each of his words, “I’ve been courting you for some time, now.”
Time freezes, for a moment. Your mind whirling past all the small moments you’ve collected - held so close to your chest. Reaching out to touch others that now made more sense.
Bringing you your share of dinner at the camp. A solving of the mystery of a fire that had been stoked during the night, an extra pelt placed over you for warmth. Caring for you.
You had mistaken them all for chivalry.
“-and I had thought you were accepting, tonight. With the beginning of the Solstice.”
“I must be dense.” You can’t help but smile, with a sensation of being able to breath again, “I had my own wishes, but I never knew-”
“I should have been more clear. Forgive me,” His hands touch his scars, his smile turning wry, “I thought it wise to let you set the pace of our journey.”
Hence his waiting for you to kiss him, after that battle. His following you, tonight.
Courage rises in you, once again.
“I want you to show me what it means to celebrate.”
He softens, for you. Hands dropping to entwine with yours, bending until your foreheads touch, “Then I am yours.”
The slightest tilt of his head, bringing your joined hands to point at the heavens.
“With the spring comes new beginnings. We lead the way, with the Solstice. Baring our flesh and joining beneath the moon, in an offering to the Oak Father.” His words are a low rumble, it’s impossible not to focus on his mouth, the way it quirks at his next words, “It is… rigorous.”
The heat that has simmered for weeks now flares to life, as his eyes darken.
Bu there's something small tickles at you, making you lean back. Your brow furrowing, needing the clarity.
"Is it just the Solstice that draws you to me?" Is it just duty that has ensnared his affections? Is this no more than fulfilling the desires of Silvanas?
He laughs, with a shake of his head, "If our first meeting had been in the Grove, your beauty would have been more than enough to enthrall me."
The knowledge is flattering. That he still would have wanted you, in another life, in another time. His next words are enough to cast the rest of your doubts aside.
"But make no mistake. For quite some time now, I have desired more. Deeper than the skin, down to the marrow." He brings your entwined fingers to his mouth, his lips pressing against your knuckles, "I fear you stole more than gold that day, in the Sanctum."
There is much that he reveals, with his words.
A sense that your feelings are more than reciprocated. A reminder that he does not mince words, like others you have known.
For as keen as your eyes are, you should have realized this sooner. The last curl of unease lifts, wafting up to stars above.
“How do we begin?”
“Eager. I like that.” Halsin grins - his eyes dragging over you, as his voice pitched low, “For starters… you are overdressed.”
With as large as his fingers are, they are dexterous as they tug at the tie of your tunic. A palm curling around your waist, tugging you close as your face tips up to his.
“And there is usually music.” He murmurs, dipping just enough to brush his mouth against yours, “But I am sure we can make our own.”
His name is a soft sound on your lips, before they press against his. Warm and solid and plush, a sigh in his throat as your hands reach up to grasp at broad shoulders. Slipping to tangle in his chestnut-colored strands, keeping him pulled close.
And you are reminded that he is strong. Abandoning your shirt when your tongue brushes his lip. Hands catching the underside of your thighs to haul you against him.
Your legs stretch wide around his waist. One of those hands moving to splay across the small of your back, a low growl rumbling as you nip at his lower lip.
Hunger gnaws at you, as he deepens the kiss. An ache to be closer, unable to get enough of the taste of him as he licks into your mouth.
Holding you against him as he sinks to his knees. Bringing you down against the blanket of grass, nestling you against it. A low chuckle at the way you still cling to him, entangling yourself around him like vines, as Halsin begins to tug at your clothes again.
Carefully, as if it's a gift to unwrap you.
"Come now, my love." He coos - another gentle tug, as you finally let go.
The air ghosts against your skin, warm with the changing of seasons. A low sound of approval with each layer that is stripped from you. The curl of a palm against your ankle, tugging off your boots. Heat pooling low, as fingertips brush up your thigh, settling at your belt.
"I long to see you bare beneath me."
He touches you as if he can't get enough. The sweep of his thumb over your thigh. Fingers joining yours as your hips lift, allowing him to peel your trousers down, and then off.
You think that perhaps it should feel strange, to be naked in the moonlight. But Halsin eclipses the brief fluttering of unease. The hunger in his expression captures yours, as he leans back to sit on his haunches.
So broad, so big. You think the desire must match in your own eyes, his sentiment so shared.
"Join me," You coax, a hand reaching for his thigh - feeling the muscles jump underneath.
His grin gleams in the moonlight, as he lets you start to do the same to him. Distracting you terribly as his hands skim from your waist to cup your breasts, teasing and pinching.
Only tearing the sleevless tunic from his shoulders before he's curling over you - his mouth pressing against your neck. Inhaling your scent with another low growl, his nose skimming over heated skin.
Those lips pressing against your throat, the threat of teeth as they part. You squirm beneath him, something inside you aching for him to bite down. To mark you.
You can feel his smile against your skin, his hands still teasing the tight peaks of your nipples. One drifting lower across sternum and belly, drifting across the curve of your mound.
It’s easy to arch into his touch, to urge his fingers lower. The sweep of his fingertips is so light, a summers breeze against your skin - a low hum of a laugh as your hips jerk again.
“I know it’s affected you.” There’s the slightest pressure - thick fingers split, tracing the crease where your thigh meets groin. Purposely avoiding where you need him, where you know you’re wet and wanting.
Another sharp intake of breath, before he’s pushing himself up to hover over you, “At camp. Your smell. It was difficult to hold myself back.”
He touches you, then. Twin moans as his fingers slip against slick flesh. Dripping, for him. Almost making you forget your words as the pad of his fingers circles your clit, as your hand brace against his biceps, nails biting skin.
“W-wasn’t the coming of Spring.” You protest - the rhythmic swipe of his fingers stealing your breath, “It was just you.”
The look he gives you then - it’s all soft edges, wrapped in a focus that’s so intense your eyes flutter shut. It’s too much, his gaze, his touch.
A low groan from his chest then, in recollection, “There were many nights lately where I wished to offer myself for your pleasure. Perhaps I should have.”
For your pleasure. Few would word it that way - conjuring images of him beneath you. His tongue tracing the same path of his fingers, your thighs pressing against the long points of his ears.
It makes you clench - the simmering fire in your belly sending up sparks, stoked by the way his head moves lower. Your fingers slipping to twist sharply in his hair, as his tongue peeks out to brush your breast.
“More, Halsin. I need you-” You pant, your free hand fitting under the bulk of his shoulder. Reaching to nudge his hand down lower, until his fingers are brushing your entrance.
He traces you, before he sinks into you, down to the first knuckle. His hands are so much bigger than yours, there’s already the slight stretching burn as he eases deeper.
The tilt of his head, chin pressing against your ribs. The fire burns in his own eyes, a heavy press of his hips against your thigh, letting you feel him.
“If we had been at the Grove, I would have hoped you would have chosen me as your mate for the duration of the three nights.” It’s a confession, the word mate ringing out - enthralling you, “Now, I do not know what tomorrow brings. I will give you all that I can, tonight.”
In a fluid motion, he moves. The ripple of muscles as he shifts between your thighs - their breadth stretching them too wide. Enough that you have to hook one over the curve his shoulder, before his head dips.
The heated swipe of his tongue hits you just as his finger presses deep and curls. You’re instantly thankful for his three hundred and fifty years, with the pointed exploration of his mouth.
A groan as he tastes you, those green eyes fixing on yours again. Fitting another finger into you as your heel digs into his shoulder, as your head tips back with a cry.
It’s too much. Pleasure skitters through your stomach, your hips moving on their own, matching the steady thrust of his fingers. How he drags them against a spot that makes you keen and squirm, before sliding them free to fit them between his lips.
Tasting the honey of your arousal, his lips already shining with you, before filling you again. Muscles clenching like the pull of a bow, waiting for the arrow to fire.
Halsin moans into your cunt like he’s feasting, like he truly means to devour you. His own hips pressing into the ground, easing his own need for friction.
Too practiced with the tight flicks of his tongue, the way his lips kiss and suck against the sensitive bud. The press of his fingers loud with how wet you are, matching your sharp, panting breath.
His name is a whimper before your muscles string even tighter. Going stiff as your breath catches, a pathetic whimper of a sound before you’re crying out.
The pleasure ignites, ripping through you as you come. As your thighs press around his ears, though he does not slow. Fucking you through it with his fingers, soft growls that buzz against your clit with each press of his tongue.
Leaving you breathless, boneless.
His mouth soft as kisses are pressed to your thighs, as you come back to yourself. It feels like you’re glowing, a soft haze settling over your limbs, down to the curl of your toes.
A broad hand smears your slick across his jaw, as he pushes himself up to kneel between your thighs. Where his cock strains against the leather of his leggings, tenting the soft fabric.
You ache to make him feel as good you feel. Something primal roars in your belly, as you follow him. Hands pressing against his chest, the flicker of shock turning warm as he lets himself be eased back.
Until it’s your thighs straddling his, moving up until your slick cunt is pressing against that heavy curve. His lips parting with a soft pant as you lean over him, your head dipping to kiss him.
He tastes like you, the sweet tang of your orgasm. Another shudder of pleasure coursing through you at the thought - as his hands find your hips, coaxing you to rock yourself against him.
Back home, you don’t know if you would have had the courage to climb this mountain of a man. But the images that flicker through your mind - the ones of him beneath you - are too strong, tugging at you. Beckoning your limbs to follow.
“I want to-,” You’re mumbling, between kisses, “Will you let me?”
“Follow your urges, my heart. Wherever they lead you, I am here.” His words sound strained, his hips flexing up, against you. More than content to be your guide, or to let you explore at your pace.
Your fingers drop to tug at his belt, with his consent. His hands coming to cover yours, lifting you with the rise of his hips. Freeing himself, his clothes joining yours on the forest floor.
It’s only here that you pause, as your thighs stretch across his waist. Where it becomes evident just how proportional he is - his cock full and flushed and heavy, curving up towards his stomach.
Unable to help touching him, his eyes fixed on the slight frown and then panic that flits across your features. A low rumble as your hand fits around him, your fingertips unable to touch.
“You-” You stammer, suddenly unsure, “Halsin, I don't know if I can-”
His eyes darken at your insinuation, his teeth flashing with his smile. Fingers curl around his base, tilting himself up. Pressing himself against your belly, the tip smearing a wet spot on your skin.
Measuring. Your grip tightens and he groans, his hips flexing into your touch.
His voice ragged, rough in the night air, “You can take me. Know you can, my love.”
You can’t pretend you’re not eager to try. Hands pressing against his chest, eyes flicking between his face and his cock, as you lift yourself up.
One leaving to hold him steady, taking a second to feel him slide against you. Muffling a sigh when he bumps against your clit, slicking him up with your release. Before you line him up, and start to sink down.
He splits you open. The pinch of his fingers against your hips hurts, as he tries to resist thrusting up into you. Even with your orgasm, your cunt slick with pleasure, he still stretches you wide.
Taking an inch, and then another. A tremble in your thighs as your knees press into the earth, a strangled whine as you make room for him.
His murmured encouragement catches in his chest, the moon and spring calling to him - only his experience keeping him from taking matters into his own hands.
A strong jaw ticking as you sink onto him, achingly slow - until your hips finally lie flush. Your hand flying to your belly, as if you could feel where he fits inside you.
His gaze is heavy, reverent. The press of fingertips against your skin as his grip eases, lips parting as you carefully begin to lift up - to rock back down.
The sensation flickers through you like faerie fire, the slow and sweet drag of him. Making you feel impossibly full, your head dipping down to hang between your shoulders. Hands curling into the hair covering his chest, as you figure out how to move.
It’s impossible to describe. A desire like you’ve never known bites at you, curling in your belly. You think perhaps you understand now - this need to bring forth the Spring and celebrate its arrival. It’s been something inside of you this whole time, waiting for guidance.
You have it, now.
“I-I did not think there was anything that could rival your touch,” Your words some out shaky - your thighs already twinging with the effort of moving. The steady rise and fall of your hips, the hitch in your breath when he sits flush within you, “I am happy to be wrong.”
The corner of his lip lifts in a snarl, but it’s one of pleasure. Just as gone as you are, with the drag of his eyes from your face, down to where you bounce on his cock. The thick peek of him each time your rise, shining with your slick.
It’s enough that his hands slip lower. Fingers slipping to rub at you again, each time you sink down.
“Use me, then.” He rasps, Come on, sweet one. Take your pleasure.”
Your heart races, breath caught in your throat at his words, his touch. The slow pace increasing, as you try to do what he says.
Instincts flooding wisdom, drowning it out - tilting your hips until your thighs tremble, as he knocks against a sweet spot inside you.
Again, and then again. His eyes are fixed on you now, and the look he gives makes you clench - coveting his attention. Wanting him to only look at you, tonight.
To sear the feeling of you into his memory, as he has done to you. You think there is nothing that could make you forget tonight.
To forget this swirl of magic, as if you’re tethered to the ground, the sky, him - all at once. Utterly free at the same time, your body moving on its own without inhibition, encouraged by the sound of his moans.
The clench of teeth - the heavy press of hips that have begun to snap upward, no longer able to hold back.
“Oh gods-” You keen. Once, and then again - a grinding circle of your hips against his fingers, as that feeling inside you threatens to burst again.
Halsin chases the rock of your hips now with his own, with his fingers. His laugh rough, caught between his teeth.
“The gods may be listening, little one. But only I will answer.”
It makes you shudder, makes you beg.
“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”
His fingers stay true. Pressing just a little harder, a jostle of his thighs as his feet plant against the ground. Fucking up into you now, as your pace falters. Too focused on the rushing white noise in your ears, the feeling that’s so big that it feels like you’ll choke on it.
“Let me feel you.” The words are muted, miles away. Digging into your skin to weave around your ribs, “Sweet one, come on-”
Your cry rips from your lungs, as you tip over the edge. He’s there to catch you, the steady pound of his hips as your own legs fail you. Fingers sweeping as the pulse of your cunt matches the heartbeat in your ears, clenching around him as you find your release.
Pushing himself up to meet you, as your arms wrap around him. Letting you chase the last waves of pleasure with the grind of your hips, your mouth panting into his neck.
A sweet sweat beading at the nape of your neck, across your skin. Your head turns just enough to meet his, his hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck.
To hold you to him, hovering over him, as he buries himself in you again. Again and again, until he is panting as you steal kisses. Tasting where you still linger in his tongue, another melding of your spirits.
“How do you want me?” His eyes are bright, hands slipping down to cup your ass, to help you ride him, “My heart, I fear I won’t last-”
You had made a pretty coin, brewing herbs and potions. Enough that you could do it in your sleep, your talents extending to camp. Teas of protection brewed openly and without shame.
The need for him to spill in you floods your senses, your own breath ragged at the thought.
“In me, my bear.” You beg, leaning back - the snap of your own hips sharp and loud, “I need you in me.”
The groan he makes is laced with relief. The feeling coursing through him as well - an innate need to spill himself into your cunt. To rut himself into you, until you’ve taken every drop.
Your name is ragged on his lips, as his thrusts turn shallow. As you take over, riding him until his hands grasp at your waist, as he goes stiff beneath you.
He throbs, a warmth flooding deep inside you. A pretty sight, his strong back arching into you - lips parted, hair streaming loose amongst the wildflowers. A snap of teeth as he grinds against you until you drip with him, too full of his cock to keep everything inside.
Fully joined, beneath the moonlight.
Afterwards, you melt against him. A hand smooths down your back as your fingers wander. Across the fur of his bare chest, the curve of his lip. The swirls of scarred and tattooed skin - your lips following.
He’s beautiful beneath you. Eyes content and half-lidded as an arm tucks beneath his head. A little inhale of breath - his broad chest rising as your lips move to his neck.
If you were Volo you think that, perhaps, you’d write a song about this. But that would mean that you would not be with him now, and the thought all but fills you with agony.
That hand on your waist tightening as you push the thought away - stretching up to reach the curve of his ear, a groan as your tongue traces the point.
It moves you against him. His cock slipping part-way out, only to sink deep again with your exploration.
He’s still hard, achingly so. You’re more sure whether it is a blessing of Silvanus or just him - this being so perfectly crafted in nature’s image.
Your teasing winds him up, even as his release leaks from you, shining against your thighs. A groan buzzes against your lips, where they still press against his throat.
A shifting beneath you, a pointed lift of his hips that nudges him against that sensitive place inside you.
“Let me take you, once more,” He husks, his face tipping up to yours. Knuckles brushing your cheek, tender in spite of the fire burning in his eyes, “Like the Oak Father intended.”
Desire still burns in you. An ache at the thought of having him another time, enough that you’re pushing yourself up to straddle him.
Nodding, your begging “please” making him smile, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. His eyes raking over your body, bathed in the glow of moonlight. Where he’s still buried deep, kept warm by you.
Before he’s moving. Hands gripping at your waist - a soft whine when he lifts you off him. His cock flushed and shining where it rests against his belly, as he rolls you beneath him.
“Hands and knees, my love.”
You’re eager to do so. The grass soft against your palms as your knees press into the ground. Arching your back - feeling the weight of his gaze as his thighs brush against yours.
The curve of his cock pressing against you, as he squeezes the flesh of your ass. His touch reverent and hungry, grinding himself against your core as he groans.
“If I could keep but one image in my mind, it would be this one.”
You moan at his praise, rocking back to meet his press of his hips. His hand dropping to wrap around his slick cock, notching it at your entrance.
Holding himself there as his chest presses against your back - warm, as his other arm wraps around your middle. It does something to you. The position, the feel of him overwhelming you.
“Halsin-” You pant, each second ticking by feeding into your desperation, “Why do you wait?”
“My impatient little she-bear,” He laughs, but the sound is strained with you beneath him, “Do not fear, I will give you what you want.”
And he does, the thick tip of him parting you. Sinking deep with a rough thrust of his hip, making you cry out as he fills you.
You had thought he was big before, when you rode him. But you had been in control - taking him at your own pace. Bouncing at your leisure, aided by the span of your hands against his muscular chest for balance.
Now, it feels like he’s in your throat, as he seats himself completely. As you make room for him, gripping him so tightly he chokes on a breath, fingers biting into your skin.
Yours wrap around his wrist, braced against the grass for balance. Nails biting into skin as he noses at your neck, his breath warm where it ghosts against your skin.
A kiss pressed there, so tender that you feel yourself relaxing. Rocking your hips back, whimpering at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“Take me,” You beg, wanting more, “Feels so good, I want you-”
He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you. There’s the sharp snap of his hips, starting shallow. Sliding out further each time, until pleasure is crackling against your skin.
The little clearing filled with the sounds of your joining. Panting breaths and the slick sound of you taking him. Fucking his own cum deeper into you, lewd with the way you cry out when his cock grinds against that spot. When the heft of his balls kiss your clit again and again, heavy with his arousal.
It feels right. Halsin’s body pressed against your back, bending you until your chest is flattened against the grass. Fingers finding purchase in the strands and flowers, giving you something to hold onto as his thighs crash against yours.
Each deep thrust pushed your breath from you with a soft whine, leaving you panting.
Trapped beneath him, until all you can do is take it.
Squirming against the cage of his chest and arms.
Fuck me. Take me. Fill me-
It comes from deep inside you. The want to be filled. An ache at knowing he’s already spent himself, that each thrust brings him closer to a second.
You must say the words out loud because he makes a noise that sounds wounded. A stutter of his hips, his words a jagged rasp, “Let go, my love. I've got you.”
So, you do. Releasing your hold on that last ounce of control. Leaving yourself in his hands, letting your sounds and cries flow freely. Embracing the mounting pleasure as it swirls through you.
You babble - half-formed words as he holds you against him. Shifting when he hears you sob, rutting himself against the spot that sends you up to the stars above. The broken “oh, oh, oh’s-” bleeding into “Gods, Halsin-”
His teeth press against your neck, pinching against your skin, “Give yourself to me.”
The arm curve around your waist moves. Fingers carefully wrap around your hair until it’s fisted in his grip. Pinning you further as he pants in your ear, soft grunts and growls that sound like music in the night air.
Not stopping until you’re shuddering beneath him. Until he feels the tight pulse of your cunt, his own release not far behind. As sweet as the taste of you, as your muscles jump under his touch, as you arch and claw at the grass below you.
It’s bliss. It feels like you’re channeling the forest itself. Feeding off the pleasure that radiates from him. The new beginning of the season, the pull of the moon above.
The Gods are pleased, you think dizzily, they must be, for I have never felt like this.
The slap of his hips is louder, as you soak him. An overwhelming instinct to claim you, as his teeth sink into the curve between neck and shoulder.
Holding you still against him as he growls. Eyes flashing gold as you cry out again - pleasure and pain melding as your orgasm flares out, beginning to ebb in sweet bursts. As the sensation drags him along to find his own end.
Spilling into you a second time with a shout. His hips moving on their own, shallow thrusts with each pulse of his cock. Your head twisting to meet his mouth, a press of teeth and tongue as you swallow his groans.
Until his strength is all but sapped from him.
Until he is more man that beast again, those eyes soft and green again - a field of clover on a bright spring day.
It’s an easy thing, to take you with him to the forest floor. To curl around you - blocking your smaller form from the midnight chill that’s begun to creep in.
Warm and strong - an arm wrapping around your hip, a large hand splaying across your belly. As if those thoughts still lingered.
Still pressed inside you, keeping you filled with him. You think you’d be content to stay like this all night. Longer, if there was not more work to be done, tomorrow. More paths to be taken.
It’s not long though, before you find yourself shifting. Dozing in his grip, a sleepy rock of your hips in an effort to feel him move in you again.
“Oak Father, preserve me.” Halsin stirs behind you, as he huffs into your hair, “Insatiable little thing. And to think I worried about you lasting through the solstice.”
Your teeth bite into your lip as you grin, as his arms wrap more tightly around you.
“I should have been concerned about myself. This old bear needs rest, little one.”
But even with his low rumbling, his hand drifts. The pad of a finger brushing against your clit, sending another shot of pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs part, a knee bending to give him access. Another soft whine as his circles against skin that is slick with his release, as his hips slowly match the lazy rhythm.
“Do not worry, my love. I will not leave you wanting.” He rasps.
“And there are many left hours until dawn.”
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omg I started playing recently and I am so in love with this game. this was so much fun, I hope you enjoyed! I love Druids so much (and am playing one) and thought they for sure would have a 👀festival👀 of some kind and wanted to explore that in the context of like, act ii/iii (I am still playing so please let me know if I got any lore wrong!!)
Teuivae – ‘Moonlight’
(tags: @samspenandsword, @amywritesthings)
1K notes · View notes
slytherinslut0 · 6 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Ten-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, SMUT, Throat Fucking, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Humiliation, Begging, Gagging, Oral (f & m rec), Spanking/Belting, Sexual Punishment, Sexual Aggression, CNC, DubCon.
****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.
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Dread gripped your insides, twisting like a coiled snake ready to strike. The weight of the impending confrontation pressed upon you, a leaden heaviness settling deep in your stomach. Last night had been sleepless, the weight of Mattheo's threat lingering in your mind like a haunting spectre. It wasn't necessarily fear that gnawed at your insides, but a potent blend of anxiety and worry.
The mere thought of Mattheo retaliating against last nights events, potentially drawing his brother Tom into an even deeper tangled web of suspicion, sent shivers down your spine. You knew Tom was already suspicious, already clearly had some sort of inclination about what was going on between you and his brother, and fear sunk its talons into your neck just thinking about what could happen if Mattheo lashed out at him again after last night. The timing would just be all too convenient to happen twice in a row like that.
In the hushed confines of the empty classroom, as you awaited Mattheo's attendance for Wednesday's tutoring session, every second seemed to stretch into eternity. The air hung heavy with anticipation, your breaths shallow and hurried--every creak of the floor beneath your restless pacing echoed like an ominous drumbeat. Your heart thudded in your chest, its frantic rhythm reverberating in your throat, each pulse a reminder of the impending confrontation. Fingers, usually steady, now trembled with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, tangible proof of the mounting tension in your chest.
But then, before you could even process it, the door creaked open, the sound slicing through the heavy silence in the room like a warning. You turned, your heart skipping a beat when you saw Mattheo's disheveled figure framed by the dim light filtering in from the corridor. His white dress shirt was stained with patches of blood, his appearance marred by the evidence of a recent altercation. His eyes, normally sharp and piercing, were now ablaze with a fierce intensity, burning with emotions that he kept tightly concealed.
As he stepped inside, the atmosphere seemed to shift, the air growing thick and suffocating. Each movement he made was deliberate, calculated, as if he was conducting an unspoken symphony of power and control. With a fluid motion, he started to loosen his tie, his hands moving with a grace that contrasted sharply with the aggressive energy radiating from him. The room seemed to shrink in his presence, the walls closing in as if acknowledging his dominance.
You stood frozen, your gaze locked onto his, unable to tear yourself away despite the unsettling mixture of emotions that gripped you. Mattheo's gaze bored into yours, his eyes holding a storm of emotions--anger, frustration, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite pinpoint. The weight of his unspoken words hung heavily between you, the silence ringing in your ears like a deafening roar, suffocating the space and leaving you feeling like you were standing on the edge of a precipice.
With each step he took toward you, the energy in the room grew more electric, his presence overwhelming. The intensity of his stare made it hard to breathe, as if he could see right through you, peeling away layers until your soul lay bare before him. It was a confrontation without words, a battle fought in the silent language of unspoken emotions, and you stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to break free from the magnetic pull of his furious gaze.
Your voice quaked. "Mattheo-"
"No," he said, cutting you off, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "No talking, Raven, not tonight."
You felt a lump forming in your throat, a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling within you. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the words that begged to spill out, but his resolute demeanor silenced any protests before they could escape your lips. As Mattheo came to a halt directly in front of you, his bloodied emerald Slytherin tie sitting loosely around his neck now--he wasted zero time before he seized your hips with a motion as swift as a striking snake, his grip so strong it felt like your bones might shatter within his grasp.
Every muscle in your body coiled like a tightly wound spring, bracing for whatever the fuck he'd do next, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling that would erupt through you as he leaned in--inhaling a sharp breath, his exhale hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. The sharp scent of alcohol wafted from him, swirling around you, adding to the already charged atmosphere.
His head dipped, finding the hollow of your shoulder, his dark, curly hair grazing your skin like a whispering caress. A shiver traced the length of your spine as his proximity engulfed you, leaving you both exhilarated and trapped in the potent grip of his presence. You swallowed, trying to steady your trembling fingers that hung limply at your sides.
"You're drunk..." you managed to utter, your voice barely audible in the charged air around you. It was fucking Wednesday. "What happened to exercising your demons, Mattheo..."
"Oh, I am," Mattheo murmured against your neck, his lips brushing your skin in a heated caress. "I got them running around the castle right now, doing laps...."
Despite his effort to suppress his fury with cunning sarcasm, the energy radiating from him was palpable, a stormy intensity that crackled in the air around you. His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could feel the weight of his words settle on your skin.
"I...you..." you stammered, your voice barely audible, your mind a chaotic whirlwind of emotions. His proximity was overwhelming, his strange demeanour leaving you entirely at a loss for words--yet there was one thought that seemingly wouldn't leave your mind. "Matt...please tell me this blood isn't from Tom..."
"I said no fucking talking, Raven..." Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin, a painful pinch that threatened to draw a cry from your lips. A sharp gasp escaped you as he swiftly maneuvered his hand around your back, his fingers asserting a firm, possessive hold on your ass. "That mouth only has one fucking purpose tonight...it's been far too long since I've had those pretty lips around my cock..."
Mattheo's presence was a blazing inferno, searing heat that enveloped you entirely, making your skin prickle with anticipation. He maneuvered you both with an unyielding force, guiding you until the edge of the desk met your ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. Both of his hands, firm and possessive, found their place on your backside, pulling you snugly against his muscular frame. A sense of foreboding settling deep within your lungs, a weighty anticipation that gripped your every breath.
Despite the palpable tension, you couldn't resist the compulsion to probe further, pushing his boundaries even as the atmosphere crackled with escalating intensity.
"Mattheo, please..." your voice brushed against his cheek like a gentle breeze, your fingers winding into his hair, pulling on the tousled strands in an urgent plea to lock eyes, your heart racing with anxiety. "Please just give me an answer...Tom was skeptical-"
With a sudden, unsettling intensity, Mattheo's demeanor transformed--whatever restraint he was previously maintaining had now completely vanished as he swiftly pivoted you around, his hands unrelenting as he pressed your hips forcefully against the desk. The cool wood bit into your skin as he loomed behind you, his body molding to yours with possessive insistence. One hand coiled around your throat, pulling you back against his chest, while the other traveled up the front of your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
"Say his fucking name again and I will not hesitate to bend you over this desk and fuck you until the only name you remember is mine..." he pulled you impossibly close, his breath a sultry growl against your ear. "You'll be so fucking full of me, Raven...you'll be so fucking full of my cum you'll feel fucking empty without it...you'll fucking crave my cock...you'll be begging for me to get inside you..."
His free hand explored your body, its fingers skillfully finding every contour, moving purposefully to your tits, caressing and squeezing once he'd reached them. He pulled you tighter, hugging you flush to his front, his insistent erection pressing tight against your ass. A delightful buzz tingled on your skin from his grip around your throat, rendering you utterly helpless, and all that escaped your lips was a soft, pathetic whimper, surrendering to his control.
"Do you feel what you do to me?" He murmured, the alcohol on his tongue swarming your ear. "You're all I can fucking think about."
The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body.
"Matt-" you said, fighting against his hand, his name hiccuped between your gasp for air when he increased his grip. “-thèo..."
"You fucking haunt me," he said, jerking his hips into your ass, his painfully hard length jamming into your backside. You whimpered as the force of his pelvis drove you harder against the desk. "I've made myself cum to the mere thought of fucking you so many times, Raven...fuck, if you were any other slut I would have fucked you stupid by now..."
His voice was dark and deadly, so quiet that you were almost certain you weren't hearing him correctly, the pounding of your heart drowning out the edges of his syllables, his hand working to untuck your blouse from your skirt before slipping underneath it--igniting goosebumps on your flesh as he went.
"Oh..." the word was a moan as it left your lips, his fingers brushing over your stiffening nipple. "Shit-"
The fingers at your throat increased their pressure, choking your words. "I told you I have a clamouring fucking desire to ruin you...and believe me, I do...but it's not enough to just ruin you, Raven...It's like I need to fucking own you, possess you...there can't be anyone else..."
In defiance of your good judgment, you clenched, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. Mattheo's large palm squeezed your other tit now, kneading it in his hand until he could feel the peak of your nipple. His thumb brushed over it, and you held back a whine, wriggling against him.
"Mattheo-" his name left your lips like a breathless sin, as though it was the only word your pathetic, lust-filled mind knew how to say.
"You know I could be with any girl I fucking want, Raven...any single fucking one..." he murmured, circling the hardening point with the pad of his finger, sparks of pleasure lingering in its path. "I seen your little friend looking at me the other day...what's her head like, hm?"
Ignoring the squirming in between your thighs, you rolled your eyes, a flutter of uncontrollable irritation flowing through you. "Go to hell-"
He answered your snark with another harsh jab of his bulge. "Yeah, you don't like that, do you..." the hand on your throat slid up to pinch your jaw open, two fingers shoving past your teeth and depressing your tongue. You caught a gag when he reached toward the back of your throat. "You wouldn't like it if there was another girl kissing me good night, would you? Another girl sucking me off...swallowing my cum..."
You tried to call him an asshole, but all that came out was, "Ah-houh."
"Mhm, I know..." he snickered, pressing further into your body, hunched over you like you were his next meal. "You're going to fix that situation with my brother, or else I will...you have one fucking week..."
Your heart hammered, your pulse flying, your body trembling against him. His teeth nipped your ear, your head spinning with the onslaught of his power.
"Because this..." this hand on your breast made a path toward the band of your skirt, and you shuddered, bucking away from his touch when he skimmed the sensitive skin of your belly.
"...little cunt..." his hand slipped under the seam of your panties, long, thick fingers easily reaching the warmth of your slit, resting on the outer folds, and you whimpered, wiggling your hips as you sought out his touch.
"...is mine..." one finger parted your lips, slicking itself on your wetness, dragging and catching over your swollen, stiff clit and pulling a low moan from your throat.
You were gelatin in his arms. All you could do was bob your head against his grip, tongue writhing to speak.
"Yeah, that's fucking right..." he said, tracing tiny circles around your clit while his length pressed against your ass. "This tight little pussy wants to cum for me, doesn't it?" You groaned--louder than you wanted--when he sped his pace on your nub, and he squeezed your jaw, voice a deep growl against your ear. "Then you better prove you deserve it."
He relinquished his hold on you, his fingers slowly sliding away from you body as he took a deliberate step back. This subtle retreat granted you just enough space to pivot back towards him. In the dim light, his eyes appeared as profound as the obsidian night, their intensity softened by an unexpected vulnerability. It was a facet of him you had never glimpsed, hidden beneath the layers of his usual overbearing arrogance.
A hushed tension hung in the air as his gaze descended to trace the contours of your lips, a magnetic pull drawing him toward you. His own lips, parted with anticipation, met yours in a tender yet fervent kiss--a languid grace encompassing the way he explored your mouth, a delicate dance that left you breathless. The lingering taste of alcohol on his tongue only heightened the intoxicating sensation, sending your senses reeling as he skillfully slipped past your teeth, all before pulling away again.
"Get on your knees for me, pretty girl..." he murmured, his hand finding your hair and directing your head down, a huff of exasperation leaving his nose as you did what he said without question. "There we go...so good for me..."
As you knelt before him, your heart thundered in your chest, its beats so forceful you feared it might shatter your sternum. Perplexed, you couldn't pinpoint the source of your unease. It wasn't the first time you'd assumed such a position for Mattheo Riddle, yet an unfamiliar tension hung in the air tonight. His unpredictable demeanor had your entire body on edge, amplifying your nervousness to an unprecedented level.
"We're going to do things a little different tonight..." he purred, his hand in your hair pulling away to stroke your cheek with two rough fingers as he peered down at you, dark eyes burning wounds into your skin. "Unbutton your shirt for me."
Your heart skipped, your senses reeling, but with trembling fingers, you immediately did as he said, as though you were being controlled by a remote in his hands. Mattheo hummed in approval as you got down to the last few buttons, his eyes never once leaving yours, the muscles in his jaw clenching and his throat bobbing as he swallowed. When you were done, you met his eyes again, the intensity making your thighs clench in need, and a smirk teased his lips as he reached for the tie sitting loose around his neck; holding it between his battered fist.
When he spoke again, you almost fainted. "Take off my belt, princess..."
A visceral tension gripped you, twisting your stomach into a knot so tight it felt like your insides might unravel. Your hands trembled like fragile autumn leaves in the wind as you reached for the metal latch on his sturdy leather belt. With cautious fingers, you tugged, undoing the buckle carefully and pulling on it until it slithered free from around his waist. Gripping it tightly in both hands, you met his gaze once more, your eyes locking, accompanied by enough force to shatter glass.
Mattheo delicately lifted the tie, guiding it towards your mouth with a gentle touch, your lips parting in a silent understanding. He skillfully threaded it between them, the smooth fabric caressing your skin. With practiced hands, he wrapped it around the back of your head, the silk cool against your skin. With a deft motion, he fashioned it into a comfortable knot, ensuring it held securely, before he bent down and gripped your arm, pulling you back up to your feet.
"Bad girls get punished, Raven..." he murmured, his lips grazing your jawline, one hand on your hip, the other reaching for the leather seated in your hands. "Take your punishment like the good girl I know you are, and I'll reward you..."
As the leather slipped from your hands, Mattheo pulled back, something flickering behind his eyes that made your stomach leap up into your throat. He met your gaze, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or fear, before he urged you to spin around.
"Bend over the desk," he husked, running his hand up your back, the gentle touch igniting flames on your flesh as he urged you down against the desk, the cool chill of the wood igniting a shudder through your entire body. "Down on your elbows...there we go..."
Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. Drool was already threatening to spill from the sides of your lips, the taste of blood lingering in your mouth as the bloodied tie sat tightly between your teeth--your breath hitching in your lungs as you felt two large hands run down the sides of your body, tracing your curves with determination as he positioned himself behind you, pressing his bulge against your ass until his hands met your hips and he pulled away; finding the hem of your skirt and slowly flipping it up to expose your backside, wasting absolutely zero time at all before his hands found the plump flesh, squeezing and groping like his life depended on it.
"Fucking hell, Raven..." he groaned, his voice tight and hoarse with need. "You look so fucking good bent over...I wish I could keep you here, just like this..."
You moaned involuntarily, a tornado of emotions swirling inside your brain. You felt as though you were in sensory overload, so many firsts happening at once.
"Spread those thighs," a calloused palm dipped between your legs, urging them further apart, your fingernails digging into the skin of your palms, your entire body trembling as the heat of Mattheo's power turned suffocating. "Good fucking girl..."
Your breath hitched, feeling his thumb grazing dangerously close to your cunt, resisting the urge to buck toward his hand--desperate for connection. The heat between your thighs was insatiable at this point, and the teasing was driving you insane. Snapping you from your thoughts, there was a jingling of a buckle, followed by a loud, sickening crack--and you shrieked, heart thumping in your throat, squirming with force to attempt to get away from what was to follow.
"Ah, ah," Mattheo huffed, pressing a palm down on your lower back, holding you firm against the desk. You felt the smooth leather being dragged across your flesh, the sensations making your entire body flinch.
"I'm going to bruise this beautiful ass, and you're going to thank me for it, because that's what bad, filthy girls deserve..." he paused, as though waiting for your protest, and when it never came, he shifted his body, looming over you. "Do you understand me, princess?"
Do you understand? Do you fucking understand? No, any sort of understanding eluded you entirely. In truth, the unfolding scenario baffled you--you didn't know how the fuck you'd gone from being his tutor, someone who could barely tolerate his daily presence, to this precarious moment--bent over the fucking desk, about to be belted by him for an issue involving his own brother. You didn't understand any of this, and yet, not one single part of you wanted to stop it.
In response, you nodded, and Mattheo hummed, seemingly satisfied.
A heavy silence settled around you, in wake of his voice. Every sinew in your body tensed with anticipation, your eyelids squeezed shut in grim expectancy. The air hung heavy, pregnant with the impending storm, while inside you, tension wound tighter than ever, prickling your skin like sharp thorns digging into flesh. Then, like a sudden lightning strike, a searing bolt of pain cracked across your backside, tearing a scream from your lips. Despite the muffling effect of the tie clenched between your teeth, the sound reverberated through the room, shattering the silence.
Mattheo, his grip firm, yanked your hair, pulling you forcefully against his chest--his lips brushing against your ear.
"Do that again and I'll give you something to really fucking scream about, Raven..." he snarled, his fingers pinching your scalp. "Shut up and bite the tie. To five."
In a swift, unyielding motion, he thrust you back onto the desk, his hand firmly grasping your head, forcing your cheek against the chilling surface of the wood. You squirmed beneath his unrelenting hold, your eyelids clenched shut as you awaited the searing sting, but Mattheo didn’t make you wait for very long before the smooth leather of his belt cracked against your skin, leaving behind a trail of fiery agony that surged through your limbs.
Instinctively, your teeth sank into his tie, muffling the primal scream that threatened to escape your lips. An electric jolt of pain rippled through you, yet amidst the torment, a strange sense of resilience emerged. Inhaling sharply, you found the strength to steel yourself, your body absorbing the pain while your spirit endured the storm.
"Mm." Mattheo hummed, running his rough palm over the red, sweltering skin, squeezing a cheek in one of his big hands, soothing the welts. "I gotta say, I fucking love watching you squirm, princess..."
Your face reddened, a pang of an unknown emotion in your chest, eagerly squeezing your eyes shut as he pulled his hand off your flesh, the lack of movement and audible sounds in the room driving your nerves into a panicked frenzy. And then, before you could process it, you felt it again--the pain forcing a choked cry to leave your throat.
"Such a shame I have to ruin this perfect ass--" crack.
Your cunt twinged at his words, fire flashing your flesh, and he he struck you again, swift and merciless, leaving no room for a response--only a ragged, involuntary squeal escaping your throat in response to the searing pain.
"Such a shame I have to remind you of your place--" crack.
You whimpered, your body trembling with a mixture of pain and bewildering emotions. A twisted cocktail of sensations engulfed your mind, leaving you conflicted. You cursed your own body, disturbed by the inexplicable response, your senses entangled in a blend of desire and humiliation. Your core pulsed with an insatiable need, aching for attention, craving release despite the twisted circumstances.
Confusion swirled in your veins, leaving your head spinning. How could you find arousal in something so humiliating? The paradox gnawed at your thoughts, yet an undeniable part of you craved the intensity, leaving you inexplicably craving more.
Above all else, this was degrading. Yet, you were fucking throbbing for it.
"...remind you who you fucking belong to--" crack.
With the final, brutal crack of the belt, the metal buckle seared into your skin, imprinting its icy mark. The sharp, biting sensation wrenched a primal groan from your throat, your body convulsing in response. Drool spilled from your lips, tears welling in your eyes--and the room reverberated with the metallic clatter as Mattheo discarded the belt, his hand moving swiftly to find the inflamed skin, fingers grazing the wounded area with a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness.
His thumb traced the path where you were certain blood had been drawn, a deliberate gesture that seemed to collect the evidence upon his skin. In a sudden, commanding movement, he pulled you away from the desk, forcing you to face him. Within the depths of his gaze, you glimpsed a twisted satisfaction entwined with something infinitely darker. His grin took on a sinister edge as he sucked his thumb into his mouth, the taste of your blood lingering on his lips. It was a macabre ritual, sending shivers down your spine, as if he had claimed a piece of you in a way that transcended the physical realm.
With a deliberate slowness, he withdrew his thumb from his mouth, his unyielding eyes locked onto yours, a challenge simmering beneath the surface. His fingers traced the path of the tie between your teeth, pulling it down methodically until it hung around your neck. Gently, he wiped the drool from the corners of your lips, his touch meticulous and strangely intimate. His eyes scrutinized your face with a depth of focus that both unsettled and intrigued you. There was an enigmatic intensity in his gaze, a complexity that left you partially terrified and yet undeniably aroused.
In that moment, you found yourself entangled in a labyrinth of emotions, your mind racing to comprehend the enigma of the boy standing before you.
His voice was a hoarse whisper. "What do you say, Raven..."
You swallowed, throat more arid than the desert, heart still pounding like a base drum. "Thank you, Mattheo..."
Mattheo's hands found their way to your face, his touch firm yet strangely gentle as his fingers slid sensually through your hair. Without a word, he crushed his lips against yours, a hungry and urgent kiss that left you breathless. His mouth dominated yours, his tongue probing with a rough insistence, exploring every corner of your mouth, caressing your own tongue in a dance of desire.
A low, needy moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss, while your fingers clenched his shirt, desperately seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of sensations. With a commanding strength, he urged you backward, his grip on your hips unwavering as he effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft whimper slipped from your throat as the supple flesh of your backside met the unyielding surface of the wood.
He moved down your neck, his plush lips leaving a hot trail of kisses down your chin, jaw, licking and sucking at the every inch of skin he could, creating planes of goosebumps across your flesh. His tongue drew a line across your collarbone, and he fell to your breasts, tugging down your bra and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it. You moaned, meeting his gaze, and he rolled his tongue around the hardened bud, sending shivers through you, straight to your clit.
Exasperated, he pulled away--dark eyes scanning your heaving, lust-possessed form.
"You're beautiful," he breathed.
You were speechless, beginning to tremble, and Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees between your legs, urging your thighs further apart on the desk, long fingers clutching your hips. Your cunt clenched in anticipation, but your teeth were clacking from anxiety, and he met your eyes.
"Relax," he said.
You made an attempt to nod, but your chin quivered despite your resolve. It wasn't an issue of trust, nor were you overtly frightened. Yet, the sheer intimacy of his presence, hovering intimately close to your most vulnerable parts, left your nerves frayed and your composure on the edge of unraveling.
"Raven." Mattheo glared at you, gouging the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Relax. You're safe with me..."
"I-I know..." you whimpered.
You shut your eyes tightly and drew in a slow breath through your nose, holding it in an attempt to steady the quivering in your body. You waited, holding onto the breath, until the tremors subsided before finally exhaling, releasing the tension that had gripped you.
"Good girl," he said. "Now look at me."
You opened your eyes, and his gaze locked with yours as his warm mouth started to suck at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, extracting a mewl from you. He smirked against you, moving closer to your center, and you bit your lip, walls contracting again with desire. As he drew closer, the curls of his messy hair tickled your skin, and then he shifted a hand, urging your panties to the side before he skipped his tongue across your outer folds, making your hips buck toward him.
"Filthy thing," he said, and pressed his full, soft lips to your pussy, dragging his flat tongue along the slit.
“F-fuck," electricity shot through you, wriggling within his grasp, your fingers clenched tightly, entwining in the disheveled tangle of his hair.
Riddle muffled a laugh with your flesh, lavishing your cunt with deep, slow kisses, tongue sliding inside of your folds, lapping the juices at your core, teasing your outer lips with languid licks. He moved away from your center, his mouth back to crawling along your thighs, and you complained with a grumble. In response, he took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit.
"Shit..." you moaned, rocking your hips toward him. You stared at him with shining, pleading eyes. "Matty...please, please..."
"There's my girl..." he purred, "I love when you beg for me, Raven...you've been so fucking good for me..."
Before you could response, he growled and sucked your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, body jerking, but he held you fast, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. A moan left you as you gyrated your hips, warmth spreading out across you, fingertips and toes buzzing with bliss. Mattheo played his tongue against your swollen clit, your walls throbbing as your pleasure continued to build.
"Oh, fuck," you said, head hanging to the side. "Oh, Gods...Matty..."
The vibrations of his moan reverberated through your pussy, and he sucked harder, his unyielding stare never wavered, his golden-brown eyes digging into the depths of your soul. Each breath came faster, a delicious surge of pleasure coursing through your veins, building an exquisite tension that carried you higher and higher, inching you closer to the precipice of bliss. Mattheo buried his face into your cunt, lips tight on your clit, tongue batting the bundle of nerves.
Incessant moans escaped your chest with every ragged breath, jaw hanging open, gripping his hair like you could pull it from his scalp. "I...holy fuck...Mattheo..."
"That's it," he purred, the praise in his tone sparking heat in your lungs. "Cum for me, baby..."
A tidal wave of euphoria crashed over you, the walls of your senses pulsating, your body wracked with the convulsions of a long-delayed orgasm. Your vision blurred into white nothingness as you threw your head back, a crescendo of unintelligible curses escaping your lips in a primal symphony. Mattheo held onto your spasming legs, his ministrations expertly guiding you to the pinnacle of your pleasure, drawing out every last exquisite tremor, tip of his tongue sliding up your slit to your mound as you finally returned to reality. Your chest swelled as you caught your breath, refocusing on Mattheo's glistening face.
Your head rolled, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. "Fuck, Matt-"
"Shh." He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your centre. "We aren't done yet, princess...keep being good for me..."
Entirely speechless, you nodded, unable to peel your eyes from his as he pulled you off the desk, dropping his hands from you as he moved to the buttons on his trousers, swiftly undoing them before pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers--his thick, throbbing cock springing free, tip glistening with precum, his head falling back in relief as he wrapped his fist around its girth, stroking slowly as you instinctively gathered yourself in front of his feet.
Something was swirling inside you, something primal, something hungry--and your hands found his thighs, slowly trailing up, peering up at him with a wide-eyed gaze; your voice alien to your own fucking ears.
"Please, Matty..." you purred. "Please let me suck your cock...please let me swallow-"
"Fucking hell..." Mattheo seized your hair, his actions driven by a raw and primal intensity as he directed his cock toward your lips. "Show me what that filthy mouth does, baby..."
You parted your lips, and Mattheo's grip on your hair tightened, pushing himself into you. Without thinking, you groaned on his length, legs writhing with arousal as he inched himself along your squirming tongue. Mattheo was biting his lip, watching your own lips stretch around his dick, watching you stare up at him with large, obedient eyes. He throbbed in your mouth, and you swallowed, the pool of your spit mixing with pearls of salty pre-cum.
Mattheo grunted, pulling out and thrusting back in, and in and out again, lips parting while you whimpered and choked on the size of his cock.
"Poor thing," he sneered. "Am I too big for your dirty little mouth?"
Nodding, you attempted to groan your agreement, but found yourself muffled by a deep thrust into your throat. You retched, trying to get off of his length, but another hand seized the back of your head, holding you there, tears and drool sliding to your jaw while he rocked into you. Every noise from your chest was a stifled whimper, gagging with every deep thrust, but he was ruthless, fingers burrowed into your face, cock fucking hard into your throat, and when you squeezed shut your lids, he growled.
"Look at me, Raven." he ordered. "Look at me when I'm throat fucking you. Know whose cum you're about to taste.
You complied, locking eyes with him through a haze, your throat raw and tender, lips and tongue going numb with his brutal thrusting.
"Good girl," he moaned, "so good...fuck..."
Riddle shifted, craning your head back, plunging deeper into your neck, seething in pleasure when you whined on his cock. His breath was coming fast, his dick pulsing urgently in your mouth, and then he was cursing, hissing your name, hips jerking in sloppy thrusts. He pulled out, fisting his length.
"Open."
You did, and he growled, shooting hot ropes of white onto your mouth and eyes, hips still rolling while he fucked his hand through the end of his climax. As he caught his breath, he looked down at you, your jaw jacked open, his bitter cum collecting on your tongue and sticking one of your lids shut.
"Go on," he huffed. "Swallow it."
Groaning, you swallowed, eye twitching as it opened despite the pull of his release on your lashes. Gasping for air, your head hung low as Mattheo released your hair. His eyes never wavered, attentively watching your every move as you gradually pulled yourself up from the floor. Meanwhile, his hands deftly moved to adjust his pants, restoring a semblance of decency.
Your own hands trembled as you fumbled to button up your shirt, a sense of vulnerability lingering in the air. Mattheo closed the distance between you, his tall figure casting a shadow over you in the charged silence. With a slow, deliberate movement, he used his finger to sweep away any traces of his release from your face, his eyes smoldering with intensity and a smirk playing on his lips as he directed his finger toward your parted lips.
Without hesitation, you welcomed it between your teeth, your mouth enveloping it with a mix of compliance and desire. Holding his gaze, you sucked gently, the unspoken tension crackling between you. He watched, his lips parting slightly, as you willingly took his finger into your mouth, the connection lingering until he slowly withdrew it, the intensity of the moment hanging between you like a charged current.
"Shit..." he murmured, glimpsing your lips.
"Shit." You repeated, glimpsing his.
The charged silence hung heavily in the air, enveloping both of you as you stood there, locked in a wordless exchange. Countless unspoken words seemed to swirl between you, filling the space with their weight, yet neither of you dared to vocalize them, opting for the sanctuary of silence. After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo finally exhaled, the sound carrying the weight of the unspoken. With a resigned gesture, he moved towards his chair and sank into it, the weariness evident in his posture.
You followed suit, collecting yourself, and Riddle finally broke the silence.
“This isn’t his blood.” He said, and relief almost immediately flooded you. "One week, Raven."
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Find chapter eleven->
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satoruhour · 7 months
Text
POCKET P*SSY!
a/n: idk where this came from. tagging @nc-vb @papersirens @crysugu
wc: 2.8k
warnings: fem!reader, m! masturbation (two scenes), use of fleshlight, unspoken feelings, reader listening in on nanami, f! masturbation, brief clit stimulation & fingering, pet names, ambiguous ending, n*sfw under the cut
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nanami kento was an organised, work-oriented man. he submits his sorcerer reports on time, he reports to work right at nine in the morning and clocks out at six o’ clock sharp, his office is prim and proper with all things where they should be and his (various) suits are always pressed and clean, smelling like sandalwood.
so why was the sight of you so compelling and striking that he swears he can hear his heartbeat through the freshly ironed blue button-up shirt? when you’d come to his office in the school to pass him his morning coffee — which wasn’t forced, you did find yourself heading to the café more and more — and the times when you’d engage in simple conversation with him about bread and gojo (negatively).
it was always a breeze to be around you, a fresh air from the intricacies of being a sorcerer. the violence, the bloodshed, the fatigue. but it’s so much of fresh air that sometimes he wonders why he chokes on his words and feels out of breath whenever he talks to you.
nanami has unwillingly checked his phone for the umpteenth time whilst doing his report, glancing over ever so often just to make sure you wouldn’t cancel on that friday drinking outing you proposed to go on with shoko. gojo was undeniably left out of the picture because of his tolerance and the two were the best drinkers in town, but he just wished he could work out the courage to ask you to be alone with you.
but nanami valued his sanity and heart. he wouldn’t know what he would do if he ever lost you to a curse even though you could hold your own, and the amount of sorcerers who are sent out just to die never deserved any of it. but if they didn’t do it, who will?
it’s question after question that’s mixed in with thoughts of you as he stays focused on the blinking cursor of the word document. appear. disappear. appear. disappear. nanami finds that he can’t think of anything else to say in this dumb report, staring blankly yet again at the annoying flickering cursor that reminds him that this was far from done. he glances down to the first drawer of his office table, the brass lock drawing him in. he thinks that he’s not ready.
just as he wants to type his next word with newfound determination, you’re barging through the door with a loud “nanami!”, a big grin plastered on your face with shoko under your arm, trying not to fall under your intoxicating happiness. god knows why you’re so happy, and if he didn’t know better he would think you were already drunk.
“she just got news that her holiday was approved,” shoko nods as she takes a drag from her cig, blowing the smoke into the office.
“please do not blow secondhand smoke into this room, shoko.” nanami’s monotonous voice cuts through the air like a knife and you would think it’s a reprimand, but both of you know the 7:3 sorcerer is just like that.
“why so boring . .” you tsk, a skip to your step when you round the table and peek at the work, and nanami has to ignore the bounce of your breasts under your outfit and the proximity in which you lowered yourself to. he tries to subtly take in your scent, not listening to your question under you wave a hand in front of him and nanami has to break away from his fantasy of you riding him while your tits bounced in his face. filthy.
“nanami? it’s already 6:02, i thought you violently rejected overtime?”
he clears his throat, catching the brief, sly glance of shoko before he turns to you, “y-yes. i do. just give me half n’ hour, ladies, and we can head over to the bar right after.” he didn’t even realise the clock had already striked 6.
shoko puffs out more smoke to nanami’s dismay, “what the hell do you need half n’ hour for?”
“just to clean up this report, promise.” he mutters, pushing up his reading glasses, “i’ll get it done as soon as possible.”
“oh? the great nanami kento doing overtime?” you giggle, reaching over to type a little cheeky “:)” into the word document before waving goodbye a little dazedly as you walk out behind shoko. the pace at which your heart raced matches the man inside at seeing him in his clear, dad glasses.
“you are down bad, girl.” 
“shush!” you swat at her arm and all she responds is with smoke in your face that she laughs and you just huff, heading off back to the morgue where she felt most at home.
nanami never did submit the report on time. he was given a reluctant extension. what was he doing? anything but the report, instead locking the door to his office and lying awkwardly on his office sofa, that was cleverly placed behind a partition wall. it took a bit of discipline — he typed a few words, deleted them, typed some more and realised they didn’t make sense and by now it’s 6:15. he takes one glance to the locked door and to the partition and down to his hard-on with that familiar feeling in his stomach. it’s been long since he’s jerked off, and sure, he has done it mindlessly just to calm the morning wood but it’s been long since he’s gotten aroused by someone.
the man palms himself through his pants, imagining it was your dainty hands instead, a soft groan leaving his lips at the feeling. his pants have never felt this tight, throbbing and just begging to be released as he slowly fishes it out. nanami was big, a pretty little curve to his cock with a tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and he strokes at it, a shaky breath leaving his mouth that it sounds pathetic. here he was, in his own office sofa fully clothed, with one leg digging into the floor and the other propped onto the armrest. 
“f-fuck . .” he swears lowly and starts setting a pace, conjuring up your face as you bob your head over his length while you play with yourself. “right there—”
nanami whines, unintelligible words muttered out as he pumped his cock. he spits into his palm and continues his ministrations with the most lewd noises that have never graced his office before. so many thoughts of you occupy his mind, you fucking yourself back onto him, how sweet your pussy would taste, the sort of sounds you’d make, how you’d feel around him — nanami cums with a quiet, strained groan, hips lifting off the sofa as he spurts his cum all over his suit, and he doesn’t care, too lost in the feeling as he squeezes his eyes shut. the idea of giving you a creampie sounds too good at the moment, how much cum he’d shoot into you, how he’ll watch it drip out—
“fuck my life.” he simply murmurs when he sees the translucent liquid settle in, and yet nanami doesn’t regret it one bit.
the next week is torment. it was particularly difficult, especially after the moodiness you possessed after getting one worded answers from nanami at the bar. he couldn’t even hold eye contact with you, how rude! he was also gone for quite a bit once, coming out of the bathroom all sweaty and out of breath and you wondered if he found a cursed spirit in the sketchy, dingy restroom of the club.
“relax. a thousand yen he’s just stressed out by . . external factors at the moment.”
“but he’s nanami! if anything, that man is internalising all that’s stressing him out,” you groaned into your hands, “also why are we betting on my love life?”
“it’s fun.” shoko defends herself with two hands when you point a finger at her; you go back to your sulking stage soon enough. she merely settles for a hand on your back. “but you’re not wrong. this is just, a little different.”
you only can sink further into your hands when you recall how nanami pulls uncomfortably at his tie, a distraught expression on his face when you asked if he wanted another round of drinks. the avoided eye contact, the conversation mainly existing between them, it was all you needed to know about his feelings of you. the coffees and hangouts meant nothing, and yet you were so clueless at how you’ve awoken something entirely new for nanami that he’s cumming thrice a day just at the thought of you.
another day, another report to fill in. he had dealt with a first-grade curse this time, the casualties, brutal and infrastructure was severely destroyed. it was going to be a hell of a word count, he notes, but what he doesn’t want happening, or rather, the unavoidable, happens. his mind drifts back to you again and everything that you stood for, of your blinding smile and kind gestures. you knew how he liked the right amount of sugar in his coffees and the right place to massage when his upper back was hurting. there was many times he was sure you both had crossed the line of co-workers and lovers, but it was never spoken or defined.
it was a grey area, he admits. tethering along the lines that he wasn’t even sure was there any more: a gaze held longer than usual, a brush of your hand on his, the not-so-secretive glance at your ass, the quick gaze from his eyes to his crotch when gojo makes a dirty joke. it was already between the lines, yet none of you wanted to act on it.
nanami groans into his hands, taking one more look to that locked drawer, thinking it would magically unlock itself and he wouldn’t have to go though the torture of submitting to his desires and unlocking it like a sex-crazed man in the victorian era after seeing a woman’s ankles. it was humbling. but his mind seems to have a different plan, descending into fantasies that he would rather take to the grave than let gojo pry out of him and he shoots up, fumbling for the key hidden under his documents.
within a second, nanami unlocks it and lets out a breath and takes out a box — a hilarious (at the time) but stupid, stupid thing (it was a fleshlight) he let gojo talk him into buying while they were both drunk. but the more he looks at it, the more he wishes to feel your walls around him and his bulge is not going down. he takes out the fleshlight eagerly, looking at it with wide eyes before he swallows and nanami feels like a teenager again.
his heart pounds when he removes his pants. his laptop, open with his undone report and him standing wide-stanced in front of his desk like a loser and his underwear pulled down just enough for his cock to spring up, you would think he was an alien from another planet. nanami does away with all rationale when he slaps his tip along the pocket pussy, thinking it was yours before his tip slips in and he gasps. the sorcerer stumbles forward and he has to rest a hand on his office chair.
“gojo, you fucking dick,” nanami hates that he’s enjoying it. “haah . . shit—” 
he pushes it down his shaft and the instant pleasure is prominent. soon, nanami is moving the fleshlight over his cock, walking with unplanned steps to the sofa. he falls into it easily, hands still pumping the device along his dick and he already wants to cum from the tightness.
“fuuck . . baby,” there are soft pants that leave his mouth, the device already filling up with all of his pre-cum. the slick noises that dominate the room is loud. nanami is too far gone in this, hips thrusting up into the fleshlight with all his might as he imagines it’s you straddling him instead. biting down on his fist does little, sure he was drawing blood from how hard he was sinking his teeth into the skin there. the way he slips inside feels so much better than his hand, and yet there was something missing — your sounds, the sight of your pussy. he needed to know he’s making you feel good. he cums with a cry of your name and mixed in profanities, pelvis basically rutting into the pussy as he shoots his load deep inside. 
and it doesn’t end there for nanami — like a deranged man, he’s grabbing his cushions and stuffing the pocket pussy in between it and the sofa, dragging his tip along the silicone clit. this shit was embarrassing, fucking something fake just so he can simulate the fantasy of being in you, but it felt fucking divine, so much so that the soft “nanami?” doesn’t even reach his ears. he reenters the pocket pussy, body hunched over the sofa as he presses down on the couch cushion and wishing it was your lower back.
the long, loud groan nanami lets out sends a straight chill to your core and you hear it before you see it. you think maybe your chances are ruined, he has someone else and the dancing around each other was done just for fun, but you think a little peek wouldn’t help. your self care sessions are getting a little boring anyway.
the gasp doesn’t reach his ears either when you glance around the partition and you get the sight of your life: nanami thrusting into the sofa while still fully clothed, eyes closed and expression pulled into pleasure. you’re torn between arousal, modesty and relief and despite all that you still listen out for how turned on he was, the gross, dirty sounds of him rutting into something and yet you don’t know what. but you decide to play it safe, flipping back around to rest your back against the walled partition, hand reaching up your skirt and into your panties.
“(y/n) . . baby, g’na cum—” 
your eyes widen, your jaw drops but your hand on your clit never stops, rubbing in time with his thrusts as your other hand is probably making marks on your face by how hard you were trying to stop your moans from coming out. you’re already so wet that your ministrations are all messy and smeared, drawing haphazard circles just for a taste of that high as you soak and soak your panties.
“baby, baby, baby . . o-oh—” you swear under your breath, because who knew nanami kento could sound so damn good? you’re continuing the assault on your pussy, going past your clit and into your entrance and you wish it was his cock instead, but instead he’s fucking a pocket pussy imagining it’s you. too bad you don’t know that. “gonna cum in y-you—”
there’s a little crack in his voice and you involuntarily let out a soft moan and the movements are halted all of a sudden. in your panic, your foot spreads and the bottom of your shoe grazes against the wooden floor and your presence is fully made known, now.
“hello?” man, what the fuck? now they’re really not going to answer. nanami sifts through the possibilities: it couldn’t be any of the men, they know not to interrupt nanami when he’s working. shoko would only for alcohol . . you? you dig a deeper grave by making an incoherent noise in your throat and that’s when nanami’s fear really settles in. he wasn’t hallucinating anything — there really was someone calling out to him the first time and the gasp and now the little moan? but nanami has anything but luck, not being able to catch the person because you’re booking it out of there immediately, not exactly quiet due to the clicks of your heels and you want to go back into that exact grave to die.
you can hear and feel your heart in your throat, back lined with sweat more than it would be when fighting a curse. whilst, there was only one thing on your mind that slowly induces you into a downward spiral; he called your name, your name, your god-given name, the people address you by, he called—
standing by the little zen garden of the tokyo school, you can feel your clit throb and the breath taken out of you as the vision replays again and again in your head and you think yourself stupid for running out of there. but before you can turn back, gojo’s approaching with a big, shit-eating grin on his face and waves to you (“yaga told me to come get you, you’re not busy, are you?”).
swallowing, all you can do is shake your head, but not before you spare a last glance to nanami’s door which is now closed shut. you hear a click.
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ellievickstar · 2 months
Text
Pretty Lies
A/N: THIS THOUGHT STRUCK ME AS I THOUGHT OF THE MEME SO LIKE BEAR WITH ME FOR A MOMENT OKAY??? also i gave up valentine week, i want to write a lot does not mean i want to stick to a schedule.
Summary: Cassian has some questions about you and Azzy's relationship, and because you are both very private people you choose not to answer Cassian truthfully, but what will happen when he decides to test your answer out?
Request: Nope.
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Warnings: Fluff. I'm in my soft era okay??? shush. This is set before even Amarantha so somewhere between the first war and the curse.
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Cassian glanced between you and Azriel, both of you had been speaking through the mating bond, thus it was mostly silent. Truth to be told, your bond was quite new and Cassian had not really heard you both interact with each other since you both confessed your love.
"Hey...I have a question," Cassian spoke up, raising his hand slightly. You cocked your head curiously, waving a hand to encourage him to continue.
"Do you guys use pet names?" Glancing at Azriel, he shrugged.
"No," You said simply.
Narrowing his eyes, Cassian internally scoffed. He did not buy it, not for one moment. Azriel may have been the most quiet among the three of them but he knew for a fact that Azriel was probably the most affectionate behind close doors. Azriel cared in a way that was quiet, a way that did not draw attention. The smallest details that hinted to the fact that the shadow singer cared more than he let on.
Cassian nodded to himself, he would reveal your lies and expose them for what they are, this was his true purpose in life.
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His plan commenced during dinner.
Waiting for the proper moment to strike, he suddenly piped up when you and Rhys were deep in conversation, Azriel was listening to Amren closely as she complained about how boring her life was now.
"Hey, Y/N, what do bees make?" Cassian asked slyly. Hesitating for a second, you gazed at him before answering, "Honey?" It was then that Azriel suddenly said, "Yes, Sweetheart?" Mor exploded into laughter, Amren hummed her amusement and Rhys grinned like a wild cat.
Blushing a deep red, you turned your head to hide your face in Azriel's arm, his hand coming up to stroke your hair while your body shook from trying not to laugh, his lips curling up into a smirk.
"I KNEW IT," Cassian screamed, "YOU LIARS TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T USE PET NAMES, HOW COULD YOU LIE TO ME," Wincing at how loud he was, Azriel shot Cassian a pointed glare in which Cassian quieted down, sulking slightly as he dramatically collapsed back in his chair, clutching his chest from 'heartbreak'.
"I'm sorry Cass, but you're not the most...subtle person," You tried. You were trying to not snicker and be kind about it but he gasped louder. "I can be subtle. I am soooo subtle," He rolled his eyes.
"So if I told you I found my mate would you be calm?" Rhys joked. However, Cass's eyes widened at Rhys, his eye balls seemingly almost popping out. "I'M THE LAST ONE LEFT WITHOUT A MATE????"
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Bonus:
"Never lie to my face every again," Cass whined, chuckling you nodded, Azriel's wing tucking you closer to his side, ready to scoop you up once you were done talking to Cass so you could retire home for the night.
"I promise I will tell you every detail, even how Az-"
"NEVER MIND!"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
A/N: hope this was fun to read heheheh see y'all next time <3
Azriel taglist: @chessebookgirl (if you guys want to be tagged in any character fics please tell me and I will happily add you <3)
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ohproserpine · 3 months
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lamb to the slaughter
alastor finds heaven kneeling before an exterminator tags. alastor x gn! exterminator! angel reader, religious imagery & symbolism, implied death, blood, dark romance
Alastor holds no reverence for heaven.
He himself was far from holy, his rotten soul resistant to the act of prayer and worship. The humility required to kneel and plead for mercy is an attribute that seems alien to him.
But never before had he beheld such beauty.
Alastor eyes were fixed on you. Before him, you loomed, a majestic creature with pearlescent wings outspread, a radiant halo encircling your horns, and draped in golden robes.
In the grip of your divine gaze, Alastor's thoughts wandered back to the verses he had half-heartedly listened to in the hallowed halls of the church. The utterances of the pastor, the haunting melodies of the choir, and the impassioned prayers fervently uttered by the congregation—all appeared to him as a futile worship. Amidst it all, he remained a solitary figure, impervious to the sanctity of the holy prayers.
Had he known that beauty could materialize into a being such as you, he would have uttered all those holy prayers in your name instead.
"Kneel," you commanded. Something within him seethed, growled, and clawed at his thumping chest.
Despite the tremors in his knees, he feigned composure, sinking to kneel before you. The fabric of his pants tore on the coarse gravel, leaving his knees scraped and bloodied. As he raised his gaze to meet yours, a chilling sensation coursed through him, your heavenly eyes seemingly scorching his skin.
Dimly aware of the pain induced by your blade piercing through muscle and meeting bone, a crazed euphoria enveloped him, numbing the stinging sensation.
Alastor found it somewhat hilarious. Creatures like you, born to worship and embody symbols of holiness, bore wings that were perpetually stained with the richness of cardinal red.
A soft, involuntary groan slipped past the demon's lips as you abruptly yanked the spear from his flesh, forcefully pulling him closer to you. Despite the searing pain, he bit down on his tongue, commanding himself to silence.
"How shameful," your voice cooed, a mellifluous cadence that felt like honey to his ears—soft and warm. Alastor felt the edge of your bloodied spear against his throat, yet he made no move to stop you.
There was nothing heavenly about this, and yet it was the closest he felt to heaven.
What's heaven compared to you anyway?
You moved closer towards him, the spear shifting from his throat, tracing a path toward his jaw before aiming it to strike his head. All the while, Alastor gazed up at you with an expression akin to that of a lamb.
"Beautiful," Alastor spat out, blood seeping from between his teeth. The gleam in his razor-sharp smile held a disturbing charm.
"This praise will not purify you."
His laughter echoed in the air, a breathless and bittersweet symphony that mingled with the metallic tang of his own blood.
Forgive him. Alastor pleaded one last time as you raised the spear high. For he has sinned.
And yet, kneeling before you now, hands bloodied with the golden blood of your kin, he knew he would do it again.
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aweina · 5 months
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౨ৎ. UNDER HIS HOODIE ( suggestive ) ; mike schmidt
tags fem reader. established relationship. possessive + jealous behavior. awkwardness. implied sex + 1.1k words.
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mike never let’s you answer the front door, not anymore at least. it was that time when he heard a striking knock on the door — giving your neck a soft kiss before lazily mumbling for you to get the door for him, barely registering the sight of your bare legs and the purplish hues on your skin.
you quietly complied with a dazed smile, rubbing your cold thighs together as you pattered towards the door — halfheartedly tugging at the hem of mike’s hoodie over your bruised neck as you threaded your fingers through the teased strands, rubbing off inky tear stains from your flushed cheeks with another hand.
the door opened slowly, revealing a blonde woman in an officer uniform. the buzzed feeling of after sex transformed into a state of alarm — the aching slouch on your back straightened within a blink of an eye.
it was her. the officer who likes to pry in your boyfriend’s business.
the tapping of her dirty leather boots seemed like she was on a time crunch. arms defensively crossed over her chest, a deadpan look in her face. then her bored blue eyes widened, lingering at your lustrous appearance. the jacket you sported was dark and baggy, blotches of bleach stains dispersed around the thick sleeves and edge of the hood. the smell was familiar too. fresh linen with a hint of herbal cologne. it was his jacket, mike’s.
with the cold zipper pulled down, the peak of your pink bra and cotton underwear was shown beneath the baggy fabric. blossoms of purple and red marking your neck and even sprinkled between the plushness of your bare thighs. your hair was frizzy and tangled, the light smudge of melted makeup painted your face. vanessa couldn’t help but chuckle, her guard faltering.
you looked up and down with a suspicious look, tucking your hands into the warm pockets of his jacket — leaning against the painted cracked doorway. there was an awkward stare down, until vanessa finally spoke up.
“i’ve never seen you before.” she says it like it’s a fact, smiling with a tinge of annoyance.
“neither have i,” you merely replied, shrugging your shoulders with your lips pressed into a flat line.
vanessa raised a brow at that, shifting towards one foot over the other — sensing the tension and maddening heat radiating off your body.
“well … it’s just mike never told me about a girlfriend.” vanessa explains further, a slight strain in her words. you rest your head on the doorframe, a snarky laugh escaping your smudged lips.
“is there any reason he would need to?” if it was possible, your eyes would’ve been glowing with crimson anger.
vanessa shook her head — her blonde locks swaying as she did.
"no, just a little surprised," she admitted, her gaze darting between your defiant stance and your bra strap slowly sliding down.
the silent air hangs thick once again, the standoff between you and vanessa alerting mike from his restless cooking — muttering curses as he wipes his sauce-coated hands before fixing his messy curls.
with an exasperated laugh, mike swoops in between the two of you — covering your exposed form with his clothed body as he tosses an awkward smile to vanessa.
“h – hey vanessa. what’s up?” mike can feel the burning glare on the back of his head, but he simply grasps your hand with a soothing warmth.
“had fun last night?” vanessa quips, watercolor eyes lingering towards the lipstick smudge on his neck and the deep bite marks trailing underneath the loose fitted shirt. she couldn’t even ignore the streaks of red staining his wrists, obviously clawed by your sharp nails.
mike opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed too shy to utter a word. yeah, he’ll admit, it was obvious the both of you had sex.
finally finding the courage to project his voice, mike slowly nods, scratching the back of his marked neck nervously. "uh, yeah, it was ... eventful."
you quietly peered over the tense scene, tugging away from his restraint to wrap your arms firmly around his waist — resting your head teasingly against his shoulder. there was a sly smile plastered on your rosy lips, hearing mike’s quiet groan from your sudden embrace.
“mike is busy, can you please leave officer vanessa?” you added a playful pout to your venom-laced request, casting an exaggerated look of annoyance at vanessa.
mike shifted uncomfortably under the weight of menacing stare down, trapped between your flush, bare body and the half opened door — under the judgment of vanessa’s knowing gaze. he feigns a small cough, an apologetic smile forced on his blushing face, silently mouthing a “sorry” towards the officer.
vanessa nods in assurance, noticing your rogue touches lingering beneath mike’s waistband. he stumbles a bit, holding your hands in place with a firm grip.
“a – alright. i will.” she holds back an amused laugh as she peers up at the blush ridden mike then to your cold glare, immediately turning towards mike. “so mike … i’ll see you tomorrow around —”
before vanessa could finish her sentence, the door was forced shut with a loud slam — your foot being the culprit for the disruption.
mike cringes and turns around, meeting your sparkling eyes and forced smile — the corners twitching with aggression. he cannot help but chuckle at your possessiveness, wrapping his own arms around your neck as he gives your jaw a soft kiss.
mike cringes and turns around, meeting your sparkling eyes and forced smile — the corners twitching with aggression. he cannot help but chuckle at your possessiveness, wrapping his own arms around your neck as he gives your jaw a soft kiss.
“seriously?” mike mumbles as he leans in to add another mark, tasting your honeyed perfume while he tugs your tight skin between his teeth. your aggression seems to melt under his mouth.
“she’s nosey.” you whine in his ear, scrambling to grasp on his curls when he suckles on a sweet spot.
“she’s harmless … i think.” mike mouths against your freshly marked jaw, ogling down at your soft breasts and thighs — spilling out the tightness of your revealing garments, shadowed by the wrinkles of his jacket.
he pulls away, a sheepish look on his face. mike brushes through the thick knots of your hair — a little reminder when it was threaded between his fingertips, every tug sent you whimpering and singing his name through the night.
“but just don’t … don’t open the door without any clothes this time.” he begs, zipping up his jacket to preserve last night’s activity — a little too late to feign modesty. “or answer the door at all.”
you smirked as you turned towards the kitchen, continuing mike’s cooking routine that was luckily not smothered in flames and spiced smoke.
“no promises mikey.” your smug answer left mike grinning, defeatedly locking the front door with a loud click.
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© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
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lilacsandpetals · 7 months
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Frozen Blossoms 
Bi-Han x F! reader
POV: You get pushed into an arranged marriage you didn't ask for, and it's to the heir of the Lin Kuei.
Tags and notes: drabble (for now?), arranged marriage AU, SFW, exploring emotions, Bi-Han can't process his emotions properly, Pre-MK1 or maybe it's an MK1 AU??
Next part here
Your eyes bore into the reflection staring back at you. Your lips were painted red to match the deep shade of the dress that graced your body. A color you found uneasily fitting for the clan you were to marry into. Your hair was neatly tied back with a golden pin to hold it in place. The gems on the pin were in stark contrast to your dress, a shade of blue you had grown familiar with. 
Chatter amongst your mother and relatives had faded into white noise as you yet again tried to grasp the reality of your impending future. 
You were to be married off to secure an alliance with the Lin Kuei. 
Initially, you had thought your parents were playing a cruel joke on you (they were never ones to do so, but you had still hoped). They explained the gravity of the situation. You knew that strife had been increasing in the area and that the Lin Kuei would offer protection that no one dared to rival. Your father shared similar ideals of honor and duty that the Grandmaster was privy to. However, the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would not be so foolish as to strike up a deal without asking for something in return. Of course, your clan offered resources they found valuable, but it still would not be enough. 
It just so happened that his oldest son was to take over the title soon, and that tradition deemed it necessary for him to take a bride. 
And so you became the prized bargaining piece. 
Naturally, the exchange of your hand in marriage for an alliance weaved its way into conversations between the clans. 
Now here you were.
Your eyes trailed toward the door before a veil was placed upon your face. Could you make a run for it at this point? No, there’d be too many to stop you. 
Your heart began to beat faster. Bi-Han was his name. He was always cold, much suited for the cryomancer. When the marriage talks began he seemed indifferent, you did not blame him; it wasn’t like you were ecstatic either. 
But at the engagement, he didn’t appear happy. You sat across from him, his eyes pierced through you as if he wanted to disintegrate you on the spot. Yet he carried on his duties of presenting the betrothal gifts, which you accepted (it wasn’t as if you had a choice).
You wondered if he would look at you with the same animosity at the wedding ceremony. 
—————
You proceed with the ceremony, ever the dutiful daughter. You repeat the vows like clockwork, as does he. You notice how stoic he sounds and you at least attempt to sound happy, albeit not very convincing. 
Your families both rejoice, pleasantries and congratulations echo through the air. More so directed towards the respective families than they are at you or Bi-Han. 
The rest of the night is spent masquerading under the facade of an eager, happy bride. 
None saw through it, or maybe they did, and you chose to ignore their looks of pity. If they had been concerned, they could have spoken on your behalf prior. 
Your mother would shoot you a sympathetic glance every so often, engulf you in her arms, and hold you for longer than needed, not that you truly minded. Maybe it was her way of attempting an apology. Yet you didn’t blame her for being complacent. She was no stranger to arranged marriages and this one was needed for the overall good. You will miss her at your new home. 
On occasion, you felt as if you were catching the glances of the Grandmaster’s second son. He appeared understanding, his eyes shone kinder than your husband’s. You knew of the Grandmaster’s adopted son as well, he would smile whenever you looked his way. 
His brothers seemed kind, why couldn’t Bi-Han come off that way?
Then again, perhaps you were jumping to conclusions. Who’s to say Bi-Han wasn’t as kind? Maybe his serious demeanor was just a front, the same way you kept up your own. 
You would be able to tell later on. 
Hopefully. 
You don’t notice Bi-Han eyes drifting towards you while you remain lost in thought. 
—————
The wedding concludes just as fast as it began. You were yearning for the end of it, yet dreading it at the same time. 
You exchanged words of gratitude with the guests and said your goodbyes to your family. Reality was starting to hit you at this point. You were going to begin life anew with someone you considered a stranger at heart. 
You tried to shake off the thoughts as you were ushered to your new bedroom. Moonlight shone through the windows onto the bed, sheets fitted a shade of crimson with flower petals decorating it. You bit your lip as you changed into your sleeping attire and sat on the bed. A few candles burned nearby, and you wondered if they were aphrodisiacs. 
Tradition expected you to consummate your union on the wedding night, but surely he’d understand if you were nervous? You barely knew him… although you had to admit he was physically attractive. His eyes were piercing, his physique enticing, especially his biceps. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was well endowed…
What were you thinking? Perhaps it was your brain’s attempt to calm your nerves,
Time continued to pass by, and Bi-Han still hadn’t arrived. Where was he? Was he even coming? 
You couldn’t stifle the yawn that hit you. Maybe he was busy talking to his brother or father? Or maybe he wouldn’t come. 
Your mind began to wander. Maybe he had a lover he was saying goodbye to? Or maybe he had run away with a lover. You shook your head, 
‘He wouldn’t, not if he’s as responsible and serious as he comes off as.’ 
You found yourself lying down and resting your head against the pillow. Hopefully, it would not come off as disrespectful. You were just relaxing until he showed up; if he showed up at all. 
—————
You fell asleep, you didn’t mean to but the ceremony had exhausted you. 
Bi-Han found you sprawled out on the bed, the blanket residing at your feet. 
Truthfully, he avoided coming inside the bedroom. He had been pacing around in the main quarters before his father found him. The Grandmaster offered him words of advice and congratulations, which he begrudgingly accepted. 
He had also spoken with Kuia Liang and briefly with Tomas. They both seemed to sense his disdain no matter how much he tried to veil it. They advised him to be kind and understanding of how his new bride must be feeling. 
How would you be feeling? What stress would you have? You married into the strongest clan Earthrelm had. He on the other hand, now had one more burden to manage. 
He hated the idea of an arranged marriage. He didn’t want to be tied down nor distracted from his duties as part of the Lin Keui. However, he knew it was necessary if he was to take on the role of Grandmaster after his father.
His mother and father had their marriage arranged as well. Bi-Han had a suspicion that they had feelings for one another before their engagement, at least that’s what his mother would allude to. 
His new bride seemed to be adverse towards him. You barely looked at him, you barely spoke. Why were you so rude? 
Both his father and yours had made arrangements between you two to interact prior to the wedding, yet you seemed out of touch. At clan banquets you were indifferent.
He had seen you with others. He had watched you before, prior to the public proposal of an engagement between you two. His curiosity had gotten the best of him so he had kept an eye on you at meetings and other affairs. You were lively, a smile could be found on your lips more often than not. You would speak with passion. You found enjoyment in training with your fellow clan mates. You had a habit of cracking your knuckles when nervous. 
He tells himself he only became interested in watching you to better assess the situation; to see what he was getting himself into, or rather what his father had gotten him into. 
Why were you so different with him compared to the others? He saw how you interacted with Tomas and Kuia Liang. Did you prefer them over him?
Bi-Han clenched his jaw. What did he lack that made you so apprehensive? He is second in command to his father, he maintains his form, and he fulfills any duty that is required of him. What more could you want in a partner? 
Either way, this was an arrangement, he need not be so concerned with the actual ‘happiness’ of this marriage. He would fulfill his duties and he would expect you to fulfill yours. 
Yet here you were, already failing at that. 
Did you not want to consummate the marriage? Were you so careless towards tradition? 
His eyes narrowed at your sleeping form. Did you have a lover? Is that why you were being so distant? If you did he would find out sooner or later, and he would deal with that nuisance swiftly. 
He stepped closer. Your eyes were closed and the rhythm of your breathing was steady. 
Now, he would be lying if he said he didn’t find you visually appealing. 
Your lips looked soft and supple, your eyes warm yet inquisitive, your hands delicate compared to his.
Bi-Han scowled, what was he thinking? Was he already so easily distracted? 
He groaned as he prepared himself to sleep. He had an early morning tomorrow, as were most mornings. His father and brother offered him the chance to stay in with his bride, but he wouldn’t bother. His duties towards the Lin Kuei stopped for no one. 
As he gets into his side of the bed he notices you shivering and pulls the blanket over your sleeping form. He is able to do that much. 
He doesn’t bother to cover himself, why bother when he is accustomed to the cold. 
He maintains a noticeable distance between you two and turns his back away from you before he allows himself to fall into a slumber. 
———— 
You wake up the following morning. The spot next to you is empty. 
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byuntrash101 · 28 days
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damnation of a saint (teaser)
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pairing �� nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins
rating — smut | mdni
wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)
synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.
release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE
nsfw tags under the cut
tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3
a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3
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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.
He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.
“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.
“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.
Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.
“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.
“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 
“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.
Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.
“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.
“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.
“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.
A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.
“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.
“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.
“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.
“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.
When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 
“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”
Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 
“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.
“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.
“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.
“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.
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a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3
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thegnomelord · 6 months
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Missing You
CW: NSFW, sub bottom Soap, dom top Reader, phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk, edging, sex toy, dom/sub. Quick and rough but that's how the horny strikes.
Like always, asks/requests are open :Dd
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You've been gone on a mission for nearly a month now, and Soap doesn't know what to do with himself. Even when you text him sporadically to tell him you're alive, sometimes he feels like a housewife, stuck awake late at night wondering if you'll return to him as a pair of dog tags.
And even later at night he can't help thinking of what you'll do to him when you come back, ravage him until he's drooling and his brain is leaking from his ears.
As days turn to weeks he finds himself trying and trying to jerk off to no avail. No matter how much he tries he can't seem to get himself off while you're away; he could fuck his cock into his fist until his skin's rubbed raw and his balls are so full they feel like they'll explode but nothing ever comes out. His body is just so used to having your body over his and your scent in his nose and just your presence near that it can't cum without it.
Pure need breeds desperation and has him finding himself at your door in the middle of the night. It's locked, but he has the key. He's quick to shimmy his way inside, a happy little sigh escaping him when he huddles underneath the covers and your scent invades his nose. A stuttered breath leaves him as he gropes his stiff cock underneath his shorts, burying his nose into your pillow and breathing in deep until his lungs are full of you and his brain is buzzing nicely.
He tries to get himself off like that, doesn't take him much to stroke himself to full mast but even surrounded by your scent he can't cum. It's like there's a blockage at the base of his cock that's not letting anything put pre-cum out while he humps his fist until tears prickle his eyes.
A thought pops into his mind and without even thinking he's fishing his phone from his pocket and dialing your number without thinking of what time of the day is on your end. Holding the phone in one hand and cock in the other he nibbles on his lip as he waits for you to pick up. Hopes you will pick up.
"Johnny?" Your voice is slurred with sleep, giving it a deep base rumble that sends a nice shiver down spine.
"Bonnie..." He breathes out and bites his lip to hold back a groan, cock twitching in reaction from just your voice. "Fuck, ah missed yea."
You hum, still half asleep. "Missed you too Johnny. How have you been?"
"Good." He breathes out, worrying his lip between his teeth as he strokes himself. "Just been mighty bored since you left lil' ol' me alone."
You can hair faint shuffling on the other end, but not his usual chatter. Normally when you call each other Soap will prattle on and on for as he can, but this time he is strangely silent save for his shuddered breath. "Soap... where are you?"
He freezes and sucks in a breath, "In yeh room."
"Johnny." The way you say his name sends a shiver down his spine and he begins stroking himself again, pinching and squeezing the head of his poor cock in the same way you do. "Did you miss me this much?"
"No shite." A small sound escapes him, a mixture of a curse and something more animalistic. "Ah try 'an wank off but every time I try it's-" A familiar hellish feeling in his balls, like something close to pain but not quite, has him cutting his sentence short.
"Poor boy," You coo, "Can't cum without me there, can you? Got you so trained to cum with my cock up your ass you can't do it without something nice and big stretching you out, hmm?"
Your words have embarrassment flooding his system and a small stream of pre leaking from his red angry tip, "'S your fault, fockin' wanker." He curses, burying his head into your pillow while quickly stroking his cock. He'd be embarrassed about what your voice does to him if he wasn't so damn horny. "Fix yer mess."
"Want to cum so badly don't you?" You stall just for a second, your mind birthing a devious idea. "Alright sweetheart, check under the bed for me."
Your request confuses him. "What for?" Still, he's a good boy, he does as he's told no matter how much it hurts to let go of his dick. Even just the sheets rubbing against his poor dick has him whimpering from overstimulation, but he manages to reach beneath your bed and finds a small discrete box.
"Just a gift for you." Your smirk carries over the phone and you can just imagine his expression when when he opens the box.
Inside the box is a dildo. It's firm in his hand as he picks it up, heat pools in his stomach as he recognizes the tip he'd spend hours suckling on, as he traces each realistic vein with his fingers the same way he'd do with his tongue, as he rubs the silicone balls like he'd worship the actual ones; It's molded from your actual dick.
"Oh you sick fuck." He breathes out, but there's not a single hint of disgust in his breathless voice. "Did yea make it so's yea could fock yourself?"
"Funny." Your two share a small chuckle, "If you're not careful I'll make one of yours and lock the real thing away. Not like you use it much."
He never knows if you're serious or kidding but the subtle threat in your tone has his dick throbbing all the same. He manages an indignant "Oi!" before his voice pitters out when he finds your second surprise.
"Thought you'd want something to remember me by." You can't hide your amusement when he finds your underwear. After you'd caught him masturbating with his face shoved in a pair of your underwear he'd nicked, you'd gone out of your way to wear one pair each time you went to the gym and didn't wash it.
"Oh bile yer heid." He huffs but he's already rolling on his side with your underwear pressed close to his nose. He breathes in deep until he can taste the heavy tang of your musk on his tongue, arousal burning hot in his veins.
"I'll take it you like it." You chuckle, "Go on sweetheart, you know what to do."
"Aye." He shuffles until shimmy his shorts off, having not even bothered with wearing boxers. He shifts so his knees are close to his chest, the phone pressed between his ear and the pillow so he can use both hands. "C'mon, keep yappin'. Need tah hear yea." He feels so high-strung begging like this, but it just makes heat burn hotter in his cock when he brings the silicone dildo to his puckered hole that's already wet from when he'd tried to finger himself to an orgasm.
"Oh, sweetheart," With your voice ringing in his ear and your scent in his nose and the weight of your sheets over his half naked body he almost feels like you're right there. If he closes his eyes he imagine it's your cock poke against his hole and your body swallowing his. "Let me guess, you're already wet huh?"
"Know me so well." He breathes out and slowly pushes the dildo against his hole until the head finally slips past the ring of muscle. He's rougher than you'd be but his body is so desperate to feel you that the cock slips in easily, his walls clenching greedily around every familiar vein.
You croon praises in his ear as he sets a deep and fast pace, biting your underwear between his teeth to muffle his pathetic mewls while pounding his hole. But it's not enough, even with every single one of his senses full of you it's not enough. His arm's starting to cramp the longer he fucks himself, twisting and angling the dildo in a desperate attempt to catch his prostate, his hips twitching back to when he bottoms out so he can feel the fake balls slap against his own.
"Shit- It's not enough, fock, please." He shifts his head just enough to beg, huffing in your scent.
"What's wrong Soap, can't fuck yourself like I can?" He groans at your words, biting the wet fabric of your underwear again when he finally manages to graze his prostate. His cock's leaking like a faucet, easing the glide of his fingers when he grabs it to stroke himself until he's whining from the stimulation coming from both ends.
His balls ache and fire burns in his stomach every time he bottoms out, his thighs shaking with the need to cum. "Nae, you fock me so good-" He pants, pleas both in English and Gaelic falling from his lips until you can barely understand anything aside from pure need.
"Go on Johnny, you can cum."
Your permission is all it takes for him to tip over the edge, hole spasming around the dildo and cum spurting like a firehose from his cock and his sight going white. Weeks upon weeks of unresolved tension all escaping him as waves of euphoria pulse through him, leaving him shaking from his orgasm.
"There you go, good boy." Your voice brings him back from the peaks of heaven, his breathing heavy and uncoordinated. "How do you feel?"
"Fockin' perfect." He slurs and has just enough strength to slip the fake cock from his hole and toss it somewhere on the floor. "Felt like ah was ready ta blow." A loud yawn leaves him and his eyes feel heavy when he hears your voice again.
"Get some sleep Johnny, I'll be back by the time you wake up."
"I'll hold yea to it." A dumb little smile tugs on his lips and he nuzzles his head into your pillow, drifting off to sleep.
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