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slttygeto · 8 months

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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K

જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.

જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k

જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.

When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.

“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.

Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.

He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.

“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—

“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.

“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.

And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.

He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.

He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.

Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.

“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.

“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.

It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.

“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.

“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.

“Let me show you instead.”

On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.

Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.

His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.

“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.

“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.

“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.

“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.

“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.

“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.

You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.

Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.

“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.

“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”

The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.

“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.

“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.

“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”

“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.

“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.

“I know what I am asking for.”

“I could hurt you,”

“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.

“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.

You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.

“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.

“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.

He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.

“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.

“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.

“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”

You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.

“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”

“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.

You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.

“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.

And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.

“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”

You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.

“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”

“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.

All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.

“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.

“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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12K notes · View notes

joonberriess · 4 months

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LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚

TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.

“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.

“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”

You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.

You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.

“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.

This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.

“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.

His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.

He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.

“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.

You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”

Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.

Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.

“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.

You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”

Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.

“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”

You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.

“Because..”

“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”

You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.

“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(

“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.

Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”

Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.

While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.

“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”

You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..

“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.

Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.

“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”

Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.

You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.

“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.

It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.

“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.

“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.

You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”

“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.

You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.

He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”

“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.

“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.

He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.

Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.

“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.

You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.

The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?

“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.

“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.

You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.

“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.

You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”

He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.

“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”

That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”

You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.

He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.

“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”

“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”

You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.

“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.

Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”

His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”

Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”

He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.

You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.

“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”

Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”

“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”

“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.

“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.

He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.

Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.

He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.

You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.

“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.

Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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yeonzzzn · 2 months

Note

Jake (your roommate) who has oral fixation who can't help but want to suck on your nipples and clit anytime and anywhere he wants (in school, in his car, in cafes, in your dorm). And as the helpful roommate, you try to wear clothes that would give him easy access all the time.

-🪻 hiiii i misseddd putting req here 🥹🫶

hi again🪻anon🥰 i’ve missed your reqs🥹🫶🏻 oral fixation jake has me weeeaaaaakkkk😮‍💨 I kinda went off the deep end with this one. I couldn’t help myself. this request is so *chefs kiss* and bless kay for helping me with the title for this 🤭😘💍

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taste of you: sim jaeyun

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.9k

For as long as you’ve known your roommate, he’s always had an oral fixation even before he became your roommate too.

You and Jake attended the same college. You would always pass him in the hallways on Mondays and Wednesdays and have Chemistry with him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Man always had something in his mouth to chew on.

Gum, the ends of his pens and pencils, the bottle cap to his water bottle, straws from his drinks, the plastic spoons, knives, and forks from lunch, the strings to his hoodie, the plastic on his cup if he didn’t have a straw, and hell, even his fingers if there wasn’t anything else. You could tell just from staring at him across the lecture hall that he had this fixation.

Fate brought the two of you together when you posted an ad on the campus bulletin board about looking for a roommate after your old one moved out. Jake was the first to respond to the ad, and since you already knew him, you disregarded the other applications. Jake was moved in within a week.

His oral fixation was a lot worse than you thought and was tame while on campus. Jake had the same normal habits on the things he chewed but added a few things: his shirt while sitting on the couch watching TV or playing on the PlayStation. The cord to his headset when he played on his PC in his bedroom. The cord to his phone while it charged and he was scrolling through social media. Your fingers, lips, tongue, nipples, and clit.

Crazy, right? It didn’t start that way, his mouth on your body parts. It wasn’t a thought in either of your minds until you came home one afternoon after work and took a shower, not bothering to put a bra on afterward, letting the girls have some time to breathe. So you walked around in your shorts and oversized tee shirt. Jake returned home a couple of hours later from soccer practice, wanting nothing more than a nice shower and a good meal. So you told him to shower and that you’d cook for him. Jake couldn’t hide the smile had, being so happy and lucky you were his roommate.

Jake didn’t even notice you weren’t wearing a bra until you stood from where you sat on the couch, your nipples poking through your white shirt. The hoodie string Jake had in his mouth fell out as his eyes were glued to your chest, watching how grazed your shirt as you walked around the couch and towards the kitchen. Jake quickly jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. Splashing his face with the water of his shower, trying to push the thoughts of your perfect nipples being in his mouth. The way he would bite, lick, and suck on them.

Jake had to lean his body against the cool of the tile wall to get his body temperature down but failed miserably as his thoughts continued to run in his brain. Thinking about the ways your cunt would ride his cock as his mouth worked on your tits. Before Jake knew it his hand was wrapped around his hard cock, biting his lips to keep from moaning as he pumped himself til his cum was dripping down his hand. Jake prayed and prayed that once he was out of the shower you could have put on a bra. Because it’s an asshole move to think about your roommate like that, right? It crosses your boundaries and that’s the last thing Jake wanted to do.

But to his dismay, you still stood in the kitchen…braless. Once you noticed he was out of the shower, you called him over, “Jae, I made pasta for dinner and this cake for dessert. Come try the icing and tell me what you think?”

Jake swallowed, knees weak as he slowly walked over to you. Your long hair was now pulled into a loose ponytail and oh man was it driving Jake up a wall. His eyes wandered everywhere, to your nipples, your earlobes, and the cute spot between your shoulder and neck. His mouth watered as he looked back and forth, wanting to pin you to the kitchen counter and place his mouth all over those parts. His dick was hardening and he was doing everything to try and keep you from noticing.

You got a spoon from the drawer and scooped up some of the icing and held it to his mouth, “Say ahh!” you said cutely, taking notice of the small pink tint on his cheeks as he slowly opened his mouth taking the spoon in.

Jake’s eyes widened as you pulled the spoon away, “Goddamn, YN, this is fantastic!” Jake loved your cooking and baking. It made him even more excited to eat the pasta and have a dessert to look forward to.

You noticed some of the icing was on the edge of his lips, you giggled softly and reached up, “You’re so messy,” you teased him, taking your index finger and sliding it across the edge of his lip.

The moment you touched him it was over. The feeling of your finger on his lips even if it was just the slightest touch sent him into a frenzy, his mouth was opening, head tilting to the side to wrap his lips around your finger, his tongue licking up the icing you wiped away and then sucking on it. His eyes closed tightly as he softly grazed your finger with his teeth. Jake didn’t know what came over him, but the moment he realized what he was doing his eyes shot back open and connected to yours.

You weren’t surprised and showed no sign that it bothered you that he was currently sucking on your finger. Instead, you gave him a small smile, inching your middle finger to his lips. Jake was the surprised one but opened his mouth anyway, letting you slip your middle in with your index.

You always teased Jake about his oral fixation, always giving him some type of hell for chewing up specific things. Like the amount of phone chargers you’ve had to rebuy him, and the amount of headsets Jake had to get replaced from chewing on the cords. The amount of gum packets that lay around the apartment just for him. You found it cute to tease him. And you never knew you wanted your fingers in his mouth until right now. Which is why it didn’t bother you. Honestly, your fingers were better than the cords and other plastic things that would eventually ruin his pretty teeth anyway.

You’d be lying if it didn’t turn you on. Jake was hoping for it, truly. Keeping eye contact with you as he wraps his tongue around your fingers, sucking on them and biting them softly. If you continued to let him chew on your fingers, he was going to lose all control.

“I know you want to do more than just suck on my fingers,” you whispered to him. You already knew he was hard as a rock and your panties were soaking, “Why don’t you take what you actually want?”

Jake didn’t hesitate to pull your fingers from his mouth, his lips attaching to yours and sucking on your bottom lip as his hands slid to your thighs, picked you up, and set you down on the countertop, biting hard on your lip, “Give me your tongue,” he hisses between his grip on your lip and only let go once he saw the muscle slide out of your mouth and taking it in his. Jake was in pure bliss getting his oral fixation off on something other than random small items. His cock twitched hard at it too. It was everything he could have wanted.

As he continued to suck and bite your tongue, his hands slipped under your shirt and slid up, his hands stopping at your tits to rub at your nipples, making them perk up more. You knew Jake was preparing them for his mouth, his skin sending a chill down your spine and goosebumps on your skin, hardening your nipples even more, “fffuuuccckkkk,” he hisses after releasing your tongue from his mouth, dipping down in the same movement of lifting your shirt over your breasts and attaching his mouth to your right nipple as his left hand continued to pinch at your other nipple.

You moaned his name and gripped his shoulders as his tongue flicked your nipple, as his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub and lips wrapped around it to suck. He moved back and forth between the two, not leaving one out. You already knew your cunt was soaking the countertop and you think Jake knew too. Mostly by the way his hands moved to cup your ass and slide underneath you. He let out a groan against your nipple before removing his mouth and scooped you up, quickly turning in the other direction and laying you down on top of the kitchen table. He kissed you again, sucking your bottom lip back into his mouth in the same motion of his fingers looping between your shorts and panties to pull them down.

Jake sank to his knees as your shorts and panties hit the floor, him spreading your legs wide to give him better access to your cunt. His mouth watered at the sight of your sopping pussy, your slit dripping out your hole and onto the table. Fuck it was making him dizzy.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he breathes, sticking his tongue out to lick up your hole to your clit, stopping there to take the bud between his teeth and lips. Jake sucked, licked, and bit your clit until you came into his mouth. He didn’t even stop there, no no. He wanted you. Wanted his shower fantasy to come true. So he pulls you from the table and onto the floor with him, quickly removing his sweatpants and boxers and moving you into his lap.

You rode him as his mouth worked on your nipples again, moving between them both and stopping every few minutes to kiss you and suck on your lips. You even shoved your fingers into his mouth a few times as you fucked him. This kept going until you came again and he was cumming deep into your pussy.

It was safe to say you both would have a major mess to clean up in the kitchen. And even have to reheat the pasta.

This was only the start of Jake using you to get his oral fixation in. You gave him full permission to use you as he pleases to get his fix. Jake would be stupid to turn it down.

It benefited both of you, truly. You both had the benefits of this new agreement. He would get his oral fixation and other sexual needs met, you’d also get your sexual needs met on top of saving money from having to replace the items he’d normally chew on.

The only terms were he could only have your fingers and lips in public, but could have everything else in the safe space of your shared apartment, or either of your cars, or if no one else was around.

Again, Jake would be an idiot to turn it down.

He forced you to move to the back of the classroom room with him so he could suck on your fingers during lectures without anyone noticing and anytime he wanted.

You’d sit in his car with him during lunch or before his soccer practice so he could make out with you and get his mouth on your tits.

Then at the apartment? He’d spread your legs.

One of Jake’s requirements was you having to wear specific clothing for him to have easy access to while at the apartment. Loose tee shirts with no bra. Any type of shorts or sweatpants or skirts with no panties underneath.

It truly was a dream come true for Jake. The best roommate he could ask for. This whole dynamic worked for the two of you. Both parties were getting pleasure and their needs met while maintaining a good friendship with each other. It was perfect. So completely perfect.

Your favorite thing was when Jake would return home from his other classes or work and immediately sink down to his knees in front of you saying, “I need your cunt in my mouth right now,” or lifting your shirt off your body instantly and saying, “I need your tits against my tongue.” Or your personal favorite thing he’d say is, “I need you on my cock as I suck on those pretty tits of yours.”

Again, so so so perfect. Yet…

…when it came to matters of your heart, you started to love him. You had your suspicions on whether you were actually gaining feelings or if it was just the sex and the way he’d work his mouth on your body that was making you confused. But your feelings became apparent and so clear to you when one day you lay on the couch, scrolling through TikTok to watch the latest trends when Jake stumbled into the living room. He had a hard time at practice that Saturday morning, beating himself up over not making the winning score during the practice match against another team. Jake slid himself under your arms and just laid his head against your chest and got himself comfy on top of you, making no moves to undress you to get his fix. “I just needed to be close to you right now,” was all he said as he snuggled his face into your breasts and slid his arms underneath you, squeezing you tightly to him. He wasn’t horny or anything, just genuinely wanted to be with you. It took everything to keep your heart from fluttering. From it completely busting out of your chest as he slowly fell asleep on top of you. You were done for. You loved him.

And oh god did Jake fall so hard in love with you too. How could he not? You accepted his oral fixation and even let him get his fix by using your body. Yeah at first it was strictly to get his fix in, the sex just being a bonus, but the more time that passed, the more he fell. He would get so drunk of your scent as he worked his mouth and cock on and in your body. You became his every waking thought and not just in ways to get his oral fixation needs met. He wanted to spend time with you. Take you on dates. Show you off to his friends. Yeah, having a roommate who gave into his oral fixation was such a hard flex. But to call you his girlfriend who also gives into his oral fixation, was an even bigger hard flex. Jake knew he loved you when all he wanted was to be in your arms after his terrible practice that morning.

It took a week later for him to confess.

His cock was buried so deep in your cunt, his mouth biting and sucking on your ear lobe as you screamed out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It was as good of a time as any, Jake thought, what better way to confess his love for you while being balls deep inside you?

“Be mine,” he moans into your ear, detaching his mouth from your lobe and lifting you up from the couch in a swift motion, rolling the two of you into a sitting position with you in his lap. Jake bites at your skin between your neck and shoulders, his hands shoving you down onto him to press his cock even further into your cunt, “be mine, please,” he says between each suck, kiss, and bite at your skin.

You couldn’t believe you heard the words escape his mouth, not knowing if you heard him clearly or not, “What?”

Jake released your skin with a pop, his hands moving to your tits, squeezing them together and giving them a lift up, licking your nipples then biting them softly, “I am in love with you, I can’t stand not actually getting to call you mine,” he sucks one nipple into his mouth, bucking his hips up into you, being so lost in the taste of you, “Be mine. Be my girlfriend.”

Your fingers tangled into his hair as you bounced on his cock, throwing your head back, “Yes,” you moan, “Yes, Jae, yes. I love you too. I’m in love with you too.”

Jake quickly switches the positions again, pressing your body against the coffee table by the couch, fucking into you with everything he had. He kissed you with so much love and want and need. Being so happy he could finally call you his. You finally being more than just his roommate/fuck buddy that gave into his oral fixation.

He bites down on your bottom lip and pulls it as he comes undone, his hips snapping to a stop to press his cock against your cervix hard, his cum filling you whole.

Jake releases your lip and smiles down at you, his eyes wandering to every part of your body he had his mouth on, loving the way his teeth marks look on you. On his girlfriend. Thank god you ended up being such a good roommate.

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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity

#yeonzzzn asks #— 🪻anon #jake bby #sim jake #sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #jake x reader #reader x jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #yeonzzzn writing

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 7 months

Text

flower therapy | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after being rescued from the capitol’s torturous clutches, your boyfriend, finnick odair, assists you with recovering from haunting memories and ptsd.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: finnick being major boyfriend material, soft reader, mentions of torture, ptsd, panic attack, hurt/comfort, fluff

notes: the way i lowkey triggered myself into a panic attack while writing this?? i’m okay now though 😀

word count: 1.3k

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. That is what the psychiatric doctors of District Thirteen suggested after you were rescued from being captured and tortured in the Capitol. Their methods sounded daunting and all too familiar—sterile white rooms, memory flash cards, persistent strangers who would force you to relive your trauma so you could 'work through it'.

Finnick did not like the sound of that one bit. So, he offered an alternative.

Post-traumatic stress mental rehabilitation. The label was a mouthful. Finnick preferred to call it "flower therapy". Twice a week, you and Finnick were authorised to spend two hours above ground where you would sit in a nearby meadow, make daisy chains, and occasionally open up about what happened in the Capitol.

You liked to call it "the power of flowers". Stupid, but saying it always formed a little smile on your face and there was no harm in simple joy considering the cruelties you had endured. Most of the time, you were silent and would lie in Finnick's arms while making flower crowns. He was always patient; he understood you needed time. Day after day, he proved his unconditional love, and you thanked the universe for blessing you with such an incredible man.

"Oh no," you whispered.

"What is it?"

You dangled your broken daisy chain in front of you and Finnick.

"Oh no," he echoed.

Your back rested against his chest and his arms enveloped your body as he held his own effortlessly crafted yellow chain in your lap. Apparently, years of weaving fishing nets creates a master of making daisy chains.

"Here," he said, positioning his own flower crown on your head. "Beautiful."

Smiling, you turned your head to face him. "I'm going to tell everyone I made it."

The flowers sat like a golden halo atop your head, beaming just as bright as the smile Finnick had bloomed at the sight of you. Beauty was everything that you were; not just outwardly, but within the confines of your mind too. Flowers and sunlight were interwoven with your soul, making up the essence of who you were—loving and warm-hearted. One of the many reasons Finnick had fallen in love with you.

He would forever want to remain in your garden, tending to and protecting every petal that blossomed.

His thumb swiped affectionately across your cheek. "Of course you are, you thief," he murmured, grinning. "You owe me."

Your stomach flooded with butterflies and you leaned in, tenderly kissing him with soft pink lips. Finnick cupped your cheek, stroking the baby hairs of your hairline with his fingers as he smiled against your mouth. Even your lips tasted like sweet nectar to him.

After you pulled away, you settled back into his embrace, sinking into those arms that shielded you from any and all harm.

"Okay, I suppose you're forgiven," Finnick said, the smile present in his voice.

You toyed with his fingers while wearing a glowing smile of your own, his arms lovingly wrapped around your body. Oh, you loved him so endlessly.

As the sun began to lower, a mixture of orange and pink clouds blanketed the sky. The trees surrounding the meadow cast large shadows throughout the area, making it appear much darker than it really was. A subtle shift in the once tranquil atmosphere rippled through the meadow, happiness now becoming a distant and unreachable feeling.

The broken daisy chain crumpled in your hands no longer shined in the sun like a beautiful mess. It instead looked tangled. Chaotic. Darkened by the dimming light and transformed into something sinister that resurfaced haunting memories of the Capitol—twisted IV tubes filled with unknown substances, chains that removed layers of skin, decaying white roses that covered the floor of your cell.

Heaviness clutched at your heart, suffocating you from within.

Finnick sensed the sudden shift, loosening his hold around you as he whispered, "What's wrong?"

"I—I don't know," you stammered, the air thinning around you.

The wilting daisies started to taint your hands with darkness, creeping slowly up your arms and causing them to tremble. Finnick, who noticed your fixation on the daisy chain, gently took the flowers from your grasp and set them aside.

It was too late; the panic had already set in.

He turned your body to the side in his lap, forcing you to face him. Your eyes flickered with worry. No amount of pain could compare to the heartbreak he felt seeing you like this.

"Hey. Hey, look at me," he urged, his tone soothing. "Breathe with me, alright? In..." He inhaled deeply through his nose. "And out."

But it was no use. Air was caged within your lungs, burning like fiery hot whirlwinds inside your chest. It was all you could do to force rapid shallow breaths out of your mouth.

"No, no!" A tear fell from your eye as you fervently shook your head. "Finn, I ca—I can't."

"Yes, you can, baby," he said, pushing aside the hair that obscured your vision. His eyes searched the area, looking for anything that could help distract your frantic mind. That is when he spotted a small flock of birds perched on one of the tree branches, instantly recognising their black feathers and sharp beaks. "Look. See those birds? They're mockingjays."

Finnick pointed up at the tree, gaining your attention which then shifted to the birds that were gawking down at you with curious tilting heads. Mockingjays. Katniss. Rebellion. Hope. You focused all your attention on the little black birds and listened to Finnick's reassuring voice.

"They'll repeat any tune you make," he continued, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Can you do that for me? Try and whistle something for them?"

Attempting to control your ragged breathing, you jerkily nodded. Songs from the world before the war overtook your mind. At first, it was overwhelming as your mind scrambled for a suitable melody, fuelling your panicked state. But then you heard something familiar and focused on the familiar tune, one that was from your childhood.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleep, my little baby,

When you wake you shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

It was a lullaby your mother sang whenever you were upset. Seemed fitting considering the situation. You managed to whistle the first few notes, albeit a little wobbly of course, hardly noticing the air that was starting to flow more freely into your lungs.

"That's it, sweet girl."

Once the mockingjays began echoing the song throughout the forest—far more beautifully than your broken whistles—you continued the melody until the end. When you finished, the birds continued to repeat the tune, singing your mother's lullaby over and over in the trees of District Thirteen.

Whilst sat cradled in Finnick's embrace, you quietly hummed along as he stroked soft patterns on your arm. Darkness and pain were long forgotten now. Your body no longer trembled with fear nor did your breathing. Memories of the Capitol's brutality were locked away and hidden in the back of your mind, diligently guarded by the man whose arms you lay in.

Golden beams filtered through the tree trunks; the sun was now lowered enough to let the warm light in, illuminating both you and Finnick. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, wrapping you up even tighter in his arms now that he was certain the worst had passed.

You clutched onto his arm and blew out a final stabilising breath, finding comfort in the strength and protection he held. The side of your head rested against his chest, the beats of his heart harmonising like a drum with the mockingjays' song.

You wanted to apologise but knew his response would be dismissive. You wanted to tell him how deeply you loved and appreciated him but knew your words would fail you.

So, you remained silent.

"You're safe," Finnick whispered into your hair. "Right here, right now. I promise."

Right here, right now, you repeated in your mind. In Finnick's arms, you were safe. You were loved.

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #sam claflin #odesta #finnick x reader

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pearlywritings · 11 months

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In father’s embrace

synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s

word count: 5.2k words

a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!

Blade

Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.

The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.

Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".

As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.

Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.

Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.

With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.

He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.

It’s soothingly silent.

It almost reminds him of the past.

“For how long will you be staying this time?

Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.

These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.

“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.

“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.

The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.

“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”

A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.

“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.

Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.

Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.

Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.

But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.

Gepard

A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.

It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.

Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.

After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.

You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.

Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.

The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.

Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…

When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.

Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.

Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.

Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.

“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”

“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?

“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”

“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.

When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.

His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.

“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.

“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”

“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”

“Serval, you what?”

“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”

“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”

“This little-”

Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.

Loucha

To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.

It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.

Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.

And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.

When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.

Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.

Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.

Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.

The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.

More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.

It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.

At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.

“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.

“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”

Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.

“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”

“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.

“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”

“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”

“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”

“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”

“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”

You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.

“For everything.”

He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.

Sampo

In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.

But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?

Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.

And boy did that “hehe” change your life.

That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.

That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.

And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.

Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.

That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.

That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.

From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.

You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.

Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.

Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.

Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?

And soon enough you find it out.

“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”

“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”

There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.

But that’s not what exactly concerns you.

“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.

“Yes, mommy!”

“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”

And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”

“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”

Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.

“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.

“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.

“...Pa-mpo?”

“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”

“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”

And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.

“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”

“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”

“Don’t even dream of it.”

Jing Yuan

Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.

He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.

For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.

The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.

Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.

And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…

“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.

“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”

“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.

“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”

You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.

“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”

“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”

To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.

“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”

“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”

“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”

“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.

In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.

“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.

“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.

“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”

“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.

You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #blade x fem!reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #gepard x fem!reader #loucha x reader #loucha x fem!reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x fem!reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x fem!reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

6K notes · View notes

obsessivevoidkitten · 7 days

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Love is a Many-Legged Thing

Yandere Squid Merman x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, tentacle noncon, light tentacle bondage, stalking, kidnapping, squid-based merman, big slimy prehensile merman dick, reader fucked senseless, merman fantasizes about receiving oral sex, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, voyeurism, exhibitionism Word Count: 2k (Happy MerMay!!!! I really hope you all love the fic, would have been done weeks ago had the ac not died. But still 40min left of MerMay! I wrote this fast without a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes! The name Onyk is a reference to Onykia Ingens, a deap sea squid with an astoundingly long dick.)

Seaspark Aquarium was a very unique establishment. Not only did it contain the usual attractions that an aquarium housed, the tide pools, the sharks, a seemingly unending variety of colorful fish and corals and nudibranchs, but it also housed transient merfolk. The aquarium was situated on a flat outcrop of rocky land. Via submerged tubes it granted access to a huge tank to the ocean and merfolk below.

The tank was absolutely massive and had many different areas including a reef, a seaweed forest, a beach, and even a secluded sea cave. There were underwater cameras in most of the areas that live streamed what was happening on screens for the humans. Though the sea cave feed was restricted to adults only since the merfolk sometimes mated there.

The aquarium was just as much an exhibit for the merpeople as it was for the humans, they had underwater screens that allowed them to view the humans at play and at the food court. They enjoyed seeing and even communicating with their terrestrial cousins. There were several areas where humans and merpeople could talk face to face or via the cameras. Many of them visited quite frequently and made friendships with regular customers and their favorite staff members.

You had been blessed with landing a really good job at Seaspark Aquarium. Though it was entirely because you were the cousin of the curator of the establishment. You did janitorial tasks, including sometimes scraping the tanks, and occasionally you had to provide food for an exhibit. Even though interacting with animals or merfolk was not a common part of your job, there was one squid-man who had become quite friendly with you. Onyk.

Most of the squid type mermen shied away from human interaction, and really the aquarium as a whole, but not Onyk. He had always been a frequent visitor. A knowledgeable observer might even say it seemed that he had been hoping to find something there. The first few times he had gone had been out of pure curiosity about humans after hearing tales about them his entire life. But after his first couple of visits he was enthralled. Everything about the land walkers amazed him.

And then he met you and felt his heart flutter every single time he looked upon you. He frequently tried to engage you in conversation whenever he could and was always watching you, though often it was in secret. Onyk cherished your chats with him, he found you so interesting, even more so than he found other humans. He loved seeing you go about your tasks, it made him think of you cleaning his home as his mate while he went and got food for the two of you.

Of course if you had any say, that would never happen. Onyk, for some reason you couldn't quite place, creeped you out. No, it wasn't the head of tentacles he had in place of hair, nor the dark purple tentacles he had from the waist down, it wasn't his smile that showed off his dangerously sharp teeth, or his cyan blue eyes. No, it wasn't anything physical, just a weird energy he seemed to give off. Like a hungry animal hunting its prey.

You tried to be nice to Onyk, though you always tried to keep conversations brief and hurry on to other tasks that would take you out of his reach. Unfortunately he took your awkward stammers and clumsy rushing to zip away from him as you being extremely shy because you liked him. He sighed and stared at you longingly, head resting on his hands, as you rushed off once more. Clearly you were simply too embarrassed by your emotions to act rationally around him. Onyk had to find a way to get you to stop running off. As adorable as it was that you kept scampering off from your shyness you really needed to be closer to him.

Onyk had a brilliant, though simple, idea. It came to him right as you were in the middle of making another excuse to run away from him while the two of you were chatting in the beach area. He'd simply grab you. It wasn't the first thing he'd normally do, but you were just too prone to running off. It was more than obvious you needed him to make a firm and forceful first move.

"Well uh... it was nice seeing you again Onyk... but um... I gotta go check on the tide p-"

Onyk lunged at you suddenly with the speed and ferocity of lightning. He pulled you into the water and swiftly took you into the empty sea cave and sat you on the dry ground within. Yes, this would do perfectly for his purposes. It was a huge room that had an area for him to swim and enough space for you to run about and get exercise. This would make a lovely home for the two of you, he'd have to keep all the other merfolk out from now on but that wasn't an issue, they were respectful of claimed territory.

Once you caught your breath you were confused and angry at the sudden relocation.

"What the f-"

He interrupted you again, this time by pressing his hungry lips to yours in a passionate embrace. His long tongue slipped past your unsuspecting lips and explored every inch that it could reach. His saliva pooled in your mouth, claiming it. The offending muscle snaked down your throat before finally retreating as he broke the kiss, you struggled to find your breath once more.

"Heh, sorry for interrupting, I have just been waiting to kiss you for so long I couldn't hold back any longer!"

“What!? Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here!?”

“Well your shyness was making it hard for us to take things to the next step in our relationship, now you can’t let your nervousness get the better of you and make you run off!”

“Next step in our relationship? We have no relationship, you creep!”

“Don’t say that! Y-you just have the jitters because moving in is such a big step! Yeah, they’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“There won’t be a soon, I am going back to the beach!”

You started to head back to the water, but Onyk closed the distance between the two of you easily.

“But you can’t go! You’re just in denial and nervous, but you’ll love living with me, I promise. M-maybe I’m not moving too fast but too slow. That must be it, you must be all pent up and eager for my dick! So naughty~”

Onyk’s blush was evident even on his light blue skin. He swallowed your complaints in another deep kiss as he stood behind you and rubbed your crotch gently.

“We’ll do it in front of these cameras so everyone knows you’re mine now~”

And, indeed, the screens in the adults only section of the aquarium definitely picked up some viewers as the scene between you and Onyk unfolded.

Most mermen would have had trouble traversing land, but Onyk’s strong tentacles allowed him to maneuver easily enough. He peeled off your wet clothing and wrapped his arms tightly around your bare chest, rubbing and caressing you with greedy hands. His prehensile cock wrapped partially around your waist, held you close as it rubbed against you. At first you mistook the sensation for a tentacle before looking down and seeing it, the cock was tapered, icy blue and glowing at the tip, with the rest of it being dark purple.

Your shouts and screams were ignored as Onyk convinced himself they were just you being grumpy or maybe playing hard to get. The merman’s sharp teeth bit carefully at your tender neck as you squirmed. Most of his tentacles had wrapped around your legs, powerful suction cups firmly adhered them to you. They held you staunchly in place despite your best efforts to struggle.

The remaining two writhing appendages were busy with another task. They gently prodded and massaged your tight hole, slowly worming their way inside you. Your efforts to clench and keep them outside of you were rendered futile as they finally worked their way inside of you. They began thrusting in tandem back and forth within you, loosening you up well.

Your next attempt at protesting devolves into several lusty moans as he ministrations begin to elicit pleasure. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he has been right all along and definitely went about everything in the right way.

“Your mating sounds are so lovely,” he said as he nipped at your ear.

His tentacles suddenly withdrew from your lovingly stretched hole, leaving you involuntarily whimpering at the sudden removal.

“Awe, don’t worry, love. I have something far better to put into you~”

You snap out of it when you hear those words and feel his cock move itself from your waist and start wiggling against you in search of its target.

“What!? No, please do-oooh~ Aaah!”

When it found your entrance it deftly slithered right in. Much to your unwilling pleasure.

Onyk chuckled.

“I knew you just needed some good dick~ You feel soooo good. You were made for this!”

When you happened to look up at one of the cameras you blushed and looked down. The room that monitored the sea cave was now packed, everyone enjoying the sight. The aquarium was already at work recording with plans to put it on their website for sale.

You couldn’t help the lewd cacophony of noises that tumbled from your mouth as the thick slimy cock thrust back and forth inside of you.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Onyk chanted louder and louder until he slammed into you hard, filling you up with warm viscous semen at the same moment that you were shuddering from the strongest orgasm that you had ever experienced.

You were far too dazed and overstimulated to realize what was going on in that moment or what you were saying, but on autopilot you mumbled back what your brain thought it was supposed to when someone told you that they loved you.

“I l-love you too…”

Onyk was overjoyed to hear those words from his beloved human. He pulled out of you and laid down on the floor of the cave, pulling you close to him and resting your head on his chest. His webbed fingers gently caressed you as did both the tentacles that made up his "hair" and the ones below his waist. Cum slowly ebbed out of you and onto him but he didn't mind, the two of you would just get messy again the second you came to your senses. He nuzzled into your hair and gave you dozens of little kisses. Your mind was too blank and your body too exhausted to do anything but drool a bit on his chest while he cuddled you.

His head was swimming with all of the things the two of you would do together. Sharing meals, chatting, mating. He couldn’t wait to wrap his cock gently around your neck while at the same time plunging it down your throat and having that pretty mouth of yours suck it until he was feeding you his cum. Maybe the two of you could try it when you woke up.

Meanwhile onlookers on the viewing screens were putting away their cocks and slipping their fingers out of their pussies with the spectacle now over, but word soon spread and tourism was up over 300 percent! Scientists the world over were interested in documenting this rare species of merman having sexual relations with a human. Grants were given. A great raise and credit to your cousin, the curator.

It was even considered a diplomatic victory for merfolk and humans!

Everyone came to the consensus that on all fronts, but yours, it was far too beneficial and lucrative to make sure you had to permanently stay in the sea cave for the rest of your life with Onyk. At the very least they equipped the habitat with amenities like a proper bathroom, tv, video games, and human food. The sea cave area was also expanded, and you were afforded some privacy, except for most of the times that your “husband” Onyk was spilling his seed into you. That’s what people wanted to see.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x gn reader #my ocs #yandere mermay #yandere merman #yandere squidman #mermay #mermay 2024 #My OC Onyk

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gumified · 8 days

Text

WHISPERS OF GOLD

pairing: demon!satoru x human!reader

summary: when you're tossed as a sacrifice to the tyrannical king you're made to do the impossible, spin straw into gold. you know it's hopeless and that death awaits you yet when a demon appears how can you refuse his help?

content: 15.3k, smut, fluff, fantasy au, fem!reader, violence (not from gojo), masturbation (fem.), cunnilingus (fem. + male. receiving), unprotected, creampie, overstimulation, degradation, praise, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, pssy eating

note: i really like writing fantasy aus with gojo as you guys can tell. i sincerely apologise for the obscene word count that this fic has, please forgive me i got carried away with the world building TT. i've been cooking this one up ngl hope you enjoy!!!

Each girl, over the age of 18, enters every two months and not one returns. Some say that they are kept locked away, others say they are killed brutally. People speculate that the King is a murderous tyrant who had killed to earn the crown. That explains why no maiden has ever passed the test he sets. No one knows what the young women go through, if it's a physical test or a mental one. They have no hints nor is there any information given prior. The chosen ones can never say anything because they never return. The people who try to sneak inside the palace for revenge or simply out of curiosity are killed or horribly slain.

In the Kingdom, there are only three types of people. At the pinnacle were magical beings - creatures or beings that possess Mana more potent than anything, they have the power to overrule any empire and their blood is more pure than any stream.

Mana born children - the ones born with magical powers running through their veins, unlike the magical beings their blood isn’t pure, resulting in them losing to the magical beings. They are usually pampered with luxuries and money. The nobles are blessed with this title.

At the bottom of the hierarchy were the ordinary civilians—those devoid of Mana or magical abilities. They formed the majority of the population and were treated with disdain by the upper echelons of society.

The Kingdom’s hierarchy is unfair, yet no one challenges it for that would mean certain death.

“Morning Mr Kou!” You call out happily. The village is bustling and the market is crowded as usual.

“Morning Y/n. You look well.” The old man you approach is smiling kindly as he hands you two loaves of bread. “How is your father doing?”

You try to hide the obvious fall of your mood. “He’s still in the bar, you know how he is.”

Mr. Kou lets out a sympathetic sigh, shaking his head. Passing you a jar of homemade strawberry jam, he catches your puzzled expression. "Take it, I've made plenty. And how's your little business going?"

“Thank you, Mr Kou.” You beam, dropping a few coins in his hand. “Perfumery? I wouldn’t call it a business, it’s just a little hobby I enjoy doing. It’s going well though, a lot of the village likes them.”

“You’ll be making more than us soon.” He chuckles.

"I could never!" You gasp, a hand coming to your chest and you break out in light laughter. Mr Kou smiles and you say goodbye, setting off.

As you walk through the market, people greet you good morning and give you sweet smiles. The sun bathes the scene in a golden glow, and the joyful laughter of children fills the air as they dart between stalls. One bumps into you and he apologises profusely, running away before you can say anything. The little village you grew up in holds many memories, you practically knew everyone here, but there's a looming shadow of uneasiness that settles across the village.

The two month period was nearly up meaning that another girl would be chosen to enter the palace soon, never to return. No one wanted it to be them. No one. And even though there's a small chance that anyone from your village would be chosen from the entire Kingdom, there was still a chance it could be you.

"If it isn't my best friend in the whole Kingdom." Rei sidles up beside you, her dark hair in a loose braid to the side. "I got you some flowers." She holds a bouquet of multi-coloured tulips, nicely wrapped in purple tissue.

“You sure those aren’t for Ayato?” The corner of your lips lift into a cheeky grin when you see her eyes widen. “The two of you have been getting awfully close lately.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Shut up.” She smacks your arms playfully, letting out a giggle. The both of you had known each other for years, starting when you had nearly broken the flower vase in her mother’s shop, blossoming a friendship. From that day onwards you would constantly visit Rei’s ‘flower land’ as she called it when she was six. You also got free flowers whenever you wanted, so that’s always a plus.

Ayato Inoue was the son of the local boutique owner. His mother made quite a lot of money, many nobles visiting her shop gave the family a lot of riches. He, however, took an interest in carpentry. Loving the way wood could be easily moulded with his fingers, how it could be shaped and designed with intricate patterns.

He had met you and Rei when the both of you were teenagers, roaming the woods trying to find medicinal herbs to help your sick father at the time. It was a shock when he had tumbled down from a tree landing unceremoniously on Rei with a loud thunk.

The two were smitten with each other and you resorted to helping both sides.

“They’re for you Y/n.” Rei places the bouquet in your arms. “An early birthday present.”

“My birthday isn’t until next week.” You giggle, sniffing the flowers. The delightful, sweet scent fills your senses. The honeyed tones take you back to the fresh spring and the blooming flowers around the lake. “Thank you though, they smell lovely, I can make great perfume!”

“I know your birthday isn’t until next week, like I said it’s an early birthday present. I won’t be able to make it for your birthday this year, remember?”

You vaguely recall the one afternoon when Rei was excitedly explaining that she would be attending a flower festival in the neighbouring town. She had the same light in her eyes whenever she would arrange bouquets and you knew how much this meant to her. Even if it was on your birthday she had spent multiple with you, one without her would be okay.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Ayato waving at the two of you. There’s a bright smile on his face when he shouts both of your names loudly causing passersby to look at him, irritated. A stall in front of you, selling freshly churned butter, latches onto your attention.

“Rei, why don’t you go accompany Ayato.” You push her towards her crush. “I’ve got to finish up my shopping and I’ll meet you guys at the normal place, okay?”

“Please don’t leave us alone together again.”

“No promises.” You say simply before skipping to the stall.

The overpowering scent hits you like a truck and you inhale the light hints of sweetness in the air, swirled with the familiar hints of dairy. The young girl running the stall can't be much younger than you, maybe two or three years. Fair hair tied in a neat bun and by the tanned colour of her skin she stays in the sun milking cows for hours in the day. She shows you what she's offering and the rows of fresh butter is something that must have taken her hours, even days, to make.

"Must have a lot of cows."

She looks up and a laugh slips out of her lips. "Yeah, but I love them like crazy." She waves her arm in front of the simple display on the stall. "Anything you're interested in?"

"Just plain old butter." You hum, watching as she nods, packaging your order in a small paper bag. She tells you the price and you drop a few coins in her hand, giving her an extra gold coin to which she protests. "Nope, you keep it! Thank you." You press the coins into her hand before skipping off.

The next stop is the flower shop, even with the bouquet in your hands you didn't want to turn that into a perfume, after all it is your birthday present. A shock of colour greets you when you open the door, red roses, purple irises, yellow sunflowers. You pick up each flower, bringing each to your nose as you smell the delicate scent, placing them into your basket if you deem them worthy.

There’s nothing too special about your day, there’s nothing special about your life to be fair. However, as you settle down for the evening and the fire crackles as you look up at the full moon you wonder if, just maybe, there could be something more. You drift off to sleep as usual, conscious dancing away as you let your eyes droop with sleep.

It’s eerily quiet, even for a Monday. Shops are empty and there are only a few people milling around. Not even the old lady by the fountain is there (she’s usually begging for spare coins). You had originally planned to buy some meat for dinner but the owner, Mrs Lee, isn’t by her stall like normal.

There’s a small crowd around the local pub that draws your attention. As you walk closer people give you pitiful looks and they express their condolences. You don’t understand what's happening but there’s an uneasiness that settles itself in the bottom of your stomach. Ayato bounds up to you, panting.

“Y/n!” He grabs your hand, pushing away the crowd to reveal a poster nailed to the wooden wall. The first thing you notice is that it’s got your name plastered in big letters across the top. The second thing you notice are the words ‘next maiden to enter the palace’.

Now the crowd is silent as they watch you read over the information. There are people looking at you sadly and those who knew you since you were a baby have tears in their eyes because they know this is it.

You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You don’t react.

The only thing you do is grip Ayato’s hand and say. “The guards are picking me up on my birthday.” A round of unsettled murmuring erupts from behind you. Nevertheless you put on a brave smile. “I better make the most of my time left then.”

No one dares to speak when the guards come to pick you up in the morning. There’s nothing fancy about the simple white dress you're wearing. Ayato’s mum had insisted she make you an extravagant gown but what use is that when you’re going to die anyway? Even though the carriage that is meant to be escorting you looks regal, it doesn’t mask the fact you’re being treated like a prisoner.

The guards don’t let you walk by yourself, preferring to drag you along by your arms, there are multiple times where their grip would tighten, making you wince in pain. When you take one last look at the crowd you realise a pair of familiar eyes staring back at you.

Rei blinks, tears threatening to escape from her eyes. She can’t do anything and even if she did the guards would probably slit her throat on sight. Ayato must have told her about you getting chosen. You feel partly to blame that she has to miss the flower pageant she’s been so excited to go to. But there's another part of you that's glad she's here. At least you get to see your best friend one more time before you're whisked away.

“Foot. In.” A guard growls, prompting you to properly get into the carriage. He, like the others, isn't looking at you. Their armour clad bodies are faced away from you as they close the door. You cast one last look at the village you grew up in. It hurts that your father isn’t here to see you off but you weren’t expecting anything from him anyway.

The journey to the palace isn’t a comfortable one. You encounter many bumps on the road and your back hurts even with the high quality padding on the seats. You’re not used to this treatment, whenever you would travel you would go by horse. The motions of the carriage had your stomach doing all kinds of tricks.

You watch the scenery outside for a while. Looking at the green trees go by, followed by some pretty flowers. A few birds would often swoop down, allowing you a glimpse of their bright feathers. Since there’s no one to keep you company you find your eyes drooping quicker than expected. Sleep is the only way you could truly escape the cruel reality.

“Get out.”

Your eyes snap open when you feel someone grab your arm, pulling you out of the carriage. It annoys you that you had barely got a wink of sleep before you were shaken awake. There were already red marks on your arms from where they had gripped you last time.

“I can do it myself.” You hiss, tugging your arm away from him, stepping out on your own. He doesn’t bother to reply, only letting out a soft scoff.

The palace is much grander than you expected. It was meant to look magical and beautiful but it only had a dark grim aura around it. The curtains are drawn shut and four turrets rise high in the sky, looming over. There's nothing magical about this.

When you enter the grand doors, there’s a chandelier that greets you. Tiny crystals dangle down, reflecting from the sunlight shining in. The place is dusted in gold. There’s a soft patterned rug beneath your feet and you inspect the swirls of dark purple thread.

A family portrait, hanging from a wall, catches your eye. There’s a man with light blonde hair and a slowly receding hairline yet he has the most captivating jewel-like eyes. That’s the previous King Avery and next to him his wife, Queen Letitia. She was blessed with ruby red hair and a beautiful smile. Her eyes were the loveliest shade of blue. People used to say that once you saw her you wouldn't be able to look away and now you understood what they meant.

You remembered the time when the both of them ruled. You had only been little but even then you could still hear the crowds noise at the yearly festivals. The smell of sweet hot chestnuts and savoury meals. The burning of gunpowder from the fireworks mixed with the stench of bittersweet alcohol. Everyone was always so happy. The Kingdom was at peace but that's in the past.

When the two had passed away the crown passed to their eldest son, Mikhail. He had inherited his fathers jewel eyes and his mothers fiery hair. He had a warmth that exuded from the family portrait that hung above. Both parents had doted on him. Sadly, the crown had only lasted on his head for so long.

The story isn’t clear but one morning, when the maids went to wake him up, he was found dead in his bed. There weren’t any signs of who the killer was or even if it was an assassination. So, at the age of 15, young Prince Kael was crowned King.

Unlike his brother he had dull grey eyes and a bad temper. The red hair he possessed reflected on his power to burn a whole village down if he was angered. His eyes on the portrait were lifeless and unlike the rest he was not smiling. People thought that he had killed Mikhail for the throne and even if the rumours were true, no one had validated them.

Someone from behind you pushes you forward causing you to stumble and you brace yourself already knowing you were going to fall. A pair of arms catch you and you open your eyes to see dark grey orbs staring at you. The man has a scowl on his face.

“Sorry Your Highness, the woman seems to be clumsy.” A guard snatches you away from the King’s arms.

“Even if she is a prisoner here, you shouldn’t push her around. Understand?” Something flickers in his eyes and you get a glimpse of the tyrannical King everyones so afraid of. The guard in question simply nods, not daring to say anything else. The King turns to you. “So you’re the lowly commoner that has Mana running through her veins and a face like a goddess.”

You don’t speak. Normally, you would have glared at whoever called you a ‘lowly commoner’ but this time it’s different. You had your father to blame for getting you into this situation. He just had to get drunk and brag to a guard about his daughter.

“Would you look at that? We've gotten a strong one.” He chuckles, reaching out to brush your cheek but you dodge his hand. “You do realise that if you don't pass the test I have for you, your life is gone.”

“What exactly is this test?” The words come out before your mind can comprehend anything. Kael only grins wickedly.

“Glad you asked.” He motions the guards to help drag you across the floor and up the winding staircase. The higher you went, the colder it seemed to be. Finally, you reached a wooden door with a huge lock. He swings the door open and a pile of straw and a loom is inside. You stand, confused. Did he want you to make him a straw blanket or something?

“Spin straw into gold. That’s all I ask.” He doesn’t give a reaction that he’s joking. You feel the panic well up in your chest. “You have three days, starting tomorrow.” Then he leaves.

It hurts when the guards throw you onto the ground. They don’t speak a word when they lock the door, leaving you in the cold barren room. You shiver unconsciously, they haven’t even bothered to give you a blanket to cover yourself with. The room wasn’t big, there was a bed in the corner and only one tiny window where light could barely shine through. There aren’t any glass panes and no one could look in much less spot you. The room is pungent and if boring had a scent this would be it.

The pile of straw takes up most of the room with the exception of the small loom placed in the corner. You begin to feel hopeless, remembering what the King had said a few minutes ago. No one could spin straw into gold in three days, therefore your life would end. There was no solution to your problem but you were still determined. Maybe it was magic straw or maybe it was enchanted to change into gold if it met the right person.

You approach the pile. It was no bigger than a baby elephant and for someone with magical abilities turning this into gold would be no problem at all. You, however, weren’t gifted with such abilities. Even if you did manage to find a way you would have to stay up all night and you could already notice the sun beginning to set.

It’s impossible.

This was a trap set up for death. No one could survive it. Suddenly, you feel sorry for all the girls that were once put in the exact place you were in. Now you know how all the previous girls felt in your place, they must have given up as well. Given up to be killed instead.

It’s a well known fact in your village that your father was boastful and arrogant, if he had kept his mouth shut maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. There was no reason why he even needed to tell everyone you, a lowly commoner, possessed Mana in your body. He also didn’t need to brag about your beauty, it’s as if he didn’t realise the King would catch whiff of his lies sooner or later.

You don’t know when you fall asleep. Your eyelids close by themselves and your body’s shivering, no blanket to keep you warm from the cold cell. The whistling of the wind sings you a lullaby to sleep and you let your worries slip.

“Seriously? Another one?” A voice mutters and you hear a low growl. “At least this one’s prettier than the rest.”

You’re still half asleep when you open our eyes, tired. It doesn’t hit you that there’s someone looming over you until the man smirks. His sapphire eyes draw you in and you forget how to use your voice momentarily and you only snap out of it when his eyes flicker to a bright ruby red then back to the coal black it once was.

“You’re what? Number 63?” He groans, ruffling his white hair. It’s tousled perfectly and there are strands that stick out. However, his hair still looks impeccable even after he runs his fingers through it repeatedly. “Seriously, you’re probably scared of me aren’t you, human?” He kneels down so you can look at him without breaking your neck.

Up close, you can examine the beauty of his facial features. Eyes that are big and round that you’re sure once held the innocence of a child. Sharp jaw and skin so smooth and pale. His lips are tinted red. Plump and plushy. It strikes you that his flawless face didn’t look human at all. Actually, there is nothing that will give him away, that is if you didn't look closely.

“What are you?”

“W-What am I?!” He splutters, completely dumbfounded. You nod, hoping that you didn’t anger this non-human. “I’m a human of course.” He puffs out his chest confidently, like he didn’t just give himself away a few seconds ago.

“You called me a ‘human’ just a while ago. So it’s either you have a really weird god complex or you’re not human. And judging by the way your eyes can change colour, which only magical beings can possess, you’re not human at all.” You scoot away from him, maintaining a good distance between the two of you. “Now tell me, what are you?”

He scowls. “Smart one, aren’t you?” He sits down, lighting a fire in his hand, making you gasp. He grins wickedly, creeping towards you. “You want to know what I am, little human?” You gulp when he leans in close so you could feel his hot breath against your neck, whispering.

“I’m a demon.”

You leap backwards, crossing your arms over your chest. Though you had no Mana, you were taught how to pack a good punch by Ayato.

Demons are rare in the Kingdom but you can still find them lurking, mingling with humans. Their kind was eradicated years ago yet some still survived. They grew in secret, disguising themselves like humans to blend in, to keep safe. Mana flowed through their veins instead of blood, the possessed magical abilities much more powerful than any other magical being.

Parents taught their children to stay away from anyone with jewel like eyes and a face that seemed too good to be true. You were taught the same. Demons are known to inflict terror and fear on their victims. They hate the existence of humans, the exact kind that destroyed them.

And here you are, in a room with one.

“So now you’re scared. Are you going to run away?” The demon grins, teeth blindingly white. “Wait you can’t, you’re locked in and the only way to escape is to spin straw into gold. Pity, truly a pity. Such a beautiful girl like you being sacrificed because of one tyrannical king.”

“I don’t need someone mocking me when I’m going to die soon.” You snap. “And a demon at that.”

His grin widens and you can see how his teeth are sharper, almost like knives. “What if you don’t die?”

You frown. Don’t die. That’s impossible, you have to spin straw into gold. Even if you escape, which you can’t, you will be shot by the dozens of archers around the palace. Yet you’re still curious what this demon meant.

“How would I do that?” You ask.

He holds his hand out, smirking, eyes suddenly reverting to the shocking red. “Make a deal and find out.”

That night you toss and turn, head filled with thoughts. Thoughts that shouldn't have been there in the first place. There’s no way you could make a deal with a demon. Making one would mean binding your soul to him, so you’re to obey his every command. It’s a contract between an owner and the dog, to which you are on the losing side. Not to mention the ridiculous predicament he had offered in exchange for your life.

You wouldn't...sleep with him. It was clearly not right and you've never been taken to bed. It would be completely inappropriate.

Yet the lewd thoughts of him moaning above you as you whimper and twitch helplessly beneath him has your panties soaking. The mere sounds of his delightful groans has your heart racing. The image of him plunging into your wet pussy, erotic sounds echoing off the stone walls. It didn't help that he had such an attractive face. Demons were always known to be amazingly good looking but you didn't think that they would look so beautiful.

You close your eyes, imagining the way he would whisper into your ear, biting your earlobe as he trails wet kisses down your neck. How his hot breath would burn your skin as he mutters your name over and over again in a way leaving you wanting more. The only thing that was missing was his name but you knew that Demons would never reveal their name to someone because that would mean that they would have to obey that every person's command, no matter how dangerous or lethal.

The feeling of your hot wet core has you squirming. It’s stupid how something like him was able to provoke such an intimate reaction from you. The painties you're wearing cling to your folds and you haven't brought a change of clothes. However, the heat is too much to bear and you bury your fingers inside your pussy with no hesitation. There's something that unravels within you when you curl your fingers. You suppress the urge to moan, only letting small whines escape your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, there are a pair of dark eyes, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure. Watching as you let little, cute moans escape from your lips. He grins smugly.

"Looks as if the little human will be accepting the deal after all."

The first day flies by with you pondering the deal. It stays in your mind for most part of the day, spare some time with you staring at the pile of straw. There are moments between the day when the guards will slip you crumbs of food and each time they would glance at the straw and give you a look of sympathy. The food they give is just enough, a slice of bread and a cup of water. Your stomach groans with hunger even after your meal.

It's at nightfall when you hear the low crackle of a fire. You turn around, ready to throw a punch only to see the demon. He's dressed as if he's about to go to a funeral, black suit with a crisp black shirt underneath. He asks if you've accepted the deal and you vehemently shake your head. All he reacts with is a twitch of his lips that threaten to draw up into a gleeful grin. You don't plan to give in. So that night you sleep in peace.

There are still two days left.

When the sun rises you get up. Now you're more determined than ever to get this straw into gold. You stalk over to the loom, trying to thread the straw but it's too difficult. Your fingers are sore and they're starting the bleed. The straw starts fraying causing you to panic. There's the smell of burning wood and you try to look out of the tiny slot they have provided the room for air. You can't see anything but your best guess was that they are burning some trees or some rotten, old wooden swords.

The afternoon sun still beams down brightly though you can't see it. The stone room is cold despite the warm weather. You wrap your arms around yourself, hoping to get warmer. The crust of bread you had eaten had begun to digest and your stomach craved for more food.

That night the demon comes back again, this time wearing a simple white shirt, the first few buttons undone. You try not to stare at the creamy expanse of his chest instead focusing on the fact you had less than 48 hours until your life would be ended. He once again asks if you accepted the deal but you decline, this time more hesitant. You don't want to give in, don't want to be binded to him, yet you don't want to die either.

You stay awake for most of the night. There's a sickening feeling that you hate. It eats you up, swallowing you whole. You know there's no other way.

The morning of the third day awakens, the urge to hurl your stomach across the floor is more prominent. But you don't, mostly because you know that no one will care. You've given up on trying to spin straw into gold. If the cuts on your fingers said anything it would be to stop. Somewhere in your mind you're doubting yourself and you're doubting the choice you've made. However, you don't want to die and although you don’t want to admit it the demon sure is good looking. At least this way you'll be able to live.

It's exactly when the sun sets that the demon appears. This time it's as if he's just woken up. Loose shirt that hangs off his frame, hair that looks as if he's just stepped out of a bath. You can see his defined abdomen through the white shirt and you can't help yourself when you stare. He doesn't have to say anything as he tilts his head, a growing smirk on his face.

You take a deep breath. “I’ll accept.”

The demon’s eyes sparkle with victory and you hate it. “We’ll get started then.”

“Wait, what?!” Your eyes widen to the size of fists. “Why are you making this sound as if it’s a job?”

“Would you rather I treat you like my wife?” He raises his eyebrows at you expectedly and you suddenly feel embarrassed.

“Well you could at least try to make yourself sound more seductive.” You scoff, gaining a little bit of confidence. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”

You watch as his eyes flicker back and forth from red to black. He walks closer, pinning you against the wall. There’s a faint smell of ash lingering on him and it somehow makes your thighs quiver. His nose nudges just below your ear and you close your eyes, feeling his hot breath graze your skin.

He doesn’t say anything when he presses light, feathery kisses against your skin. You take a shaky breath, gasping when he starts moving his lips closer to your jaw. There’s a cocky look in his eyes when you meet them and you resist the urge to let out a sound of pleasure. When he pulls away, leaving you breathless, you try to rearrange your thoughts.

“Is that how you like it?” He pushes his tongue against his cheek. No words leave your lips so you nod dumbly. “It’s your first time isn’t it?” Again you nod causing him to let out a primitive growl. “I’ll try to take it easy, no promises angel.”

It happens too quickly and you don’t have time to catch your breath before his lips are crashing onto yours. They’re plump and soft and you could taste a hint of sweetness. You find yourself wondering what to do for a while but your worries are extinguished when he grabs your hands, throwing them over his shoulders. He pulls you closer and you melt against him.

All previous anxious thoughts about what you were going into were erased. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip and it tangles with yours. You feel yourself growing wet, panties sticking. It only shocks you more when his large hands come up to caress your cold skin, the difference in temperatures makes you shiver. You whimper when he pulls away. Your mind is foggy and filled with desire.

He presses his forehead against yours, slipping your dress off. The cold air hits your skin with his touches lighting parts of your body on fire. His fingers travel down to your waist like little butterflies. They seem to dance across your soft skin. Slowly, he slides a finger through your folds, gathering your arousal between his fingers. You hold back your sounds of pleasure, afraid the guards would hear.

“Don’t do that.” He whispers, breath fanning across your face. Even though it’s quiet you can’t help but find him so seductive, so entrancing. It’s like he knows the effect he has on you as he rubs your sensitive bud. "They can't hear you, magic remember."

You let out a small moan when his finger enters inside you. The stretch isn't much but it still has you squirming whenever he would prod a place that you could never reach. He bends down, attaching his lips to your clit, placing gentle kisses. He inserts another finger with ease, your velvet walls clamping around him and he starts pumping his digits inside you.

"Feel good?" He murmurs against your hot skin, the ministrations vibrating through your body. It takes you by surprise when he curls his fingers, pressing down. "So pretty. Such a pretty pussy." He places a gentle kiss in your glistening folds and you whimper. You lace your fingers through his hair, gasping for air when he licks.

Your chest heaves up and down, loving the way his tongue laps at your core, fingers moving, and a feeling filling you up in what could only be described as pure euphoria. The rhythm he’s moving at is slow and steady, with his wet muscle accompanying him it’s more than enough. You grip onto his hair as you let out a breathless whine, being unable to call him by his name only has you pleading in a different way.

He looks up at you, fluttering lashes making him look almost angelic except he is sucking at your clit, tongue and fingers pleasuring you. “You’re holding onto me awfully tight, darling.”

“Sorry.” You let your hands fly off his hair causing him to chuckle. He continues his movements and you’re reduced to a pile of pants. You smooth his hair from above, making sure not to tug too hard. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Don’t worry.” His eyes turn red. “I’m a demon, remember?”

It makes you hold his shoulders tightly when he prods his wet tongue as you keen at his touch, spreading your legs wider. You can feel his smirk against your core and you inhale sharply when he adds another digit, stretching your tight pussy out more.

Every single sensation, every single movement has you moaning in his grasp, there isn’t a time where you didn’t feel good. The way he’s able to make your pleasure climb is unbelievable and at the same time you want more.

There’s a new feeling that starts to build up when he thrusts his fingers harder, tongue continuing to play with your delicate clit. It has your mind blanking and you try to hold yourself still. He watches as your back arches and as your body writhes and twists at the uncontrollable desire that coursed through your body. There’s something about you that has him thrusting his fingers faster, eager to let you have your release.

Your legs tremble and you feel yourself giving away. The newfound feeling washing over you like a tidal wave and it has you letting out a loud gasp as you throw your head back. All he does is watch, your tight pussy pulsing around his fingers, cum dripping out. You’re gasping, heaving for air as you feel your lungs burn. He laps it up, loving the way you taste and suddenly you’re all too aware of the mess you had created.

You don’t have words, all you can do is let out multiple sounds, all of which are filled with lust. He keeps working his fingers, thumb finding your folds, this makes you pant at the sensitivity, the mere feeling of being overstimulated puts your mind in a haze. He loves your reactions, the way your body twitches at his light touches to the way your voice sounds when you’re moaning. Albeit, his name never leaves your perfect lips but the way you’re submitting to him is more than enough.

He yearns for another orgasm, pushing you and your tight little pussy, trying to achieve something that he knows you can. It doesn’t take long for another gush of cum to come flowing out of you, your lips parted as you let out a silent scream. He lets you rest for a minute, focusing on licking up every drop of cum. Hush tongue pokes and prods, gently massaging itself on your pussy. Your fingers tangle in his hair once more, letting yourself succumb.

You lie, lungs desperate for air. It’s something you've never experienced before and now that you have, you crave for it. You cast a glance at the demon, his hair, now a mess, in between your legs.

“C-Can I…” You trail off, not sure how to phrase what you want. “Can I…”

He seems to know what you’re trying to say because he has a smug grin that’s overtaking his face as he crawls closer to your worn out body.

“You can say it. Be a good girl and use those words.” His voice is deep and there’s an underlying hint of raspiness that has you feeling all sorts of emotions. Your cheeks light on fire when he licks a long stripe up your drenched core.

"C-Can I have your cock…?" You mumble under your breath.

He grins, finding your answer satisfying. There isn’t a second that’s wasted as he lines his hard throbbing dick with your pussy. You nibble at your bottom lip, casting an anxious glance at him. He smiles gently, whispering that he isn’t going to do you any harm. You let out a strangled cry when he pushes in. The feeling is much different to his fingers, the girth so much thicker and you can feel the way it’s so slowly filling you up as you gasp for air. He stops for a moment, letting you adjust.

“You okay?” He asks, warm hands massaging your hips as you squirm above him. “I’m not going too fast?”

For a soul sucking creature he sure is awfully nice. You shake your head, eyes pleading for him to move. “I’m okay.”

His movements start off slow at first, pushing in and out at a steady pace. It still makes your body fill with desire and you gasp whenever he thrusts in. It’s when he picks the pace up, sliding faster, hips snapping to yours. He’s growing rougher and you love it, voice begging for more and more. Every moan and whimper that leaves your lips is accompanied by a praise from the demon as he fucks you to heaven.

The way his cock stretches you out and the way your walls clamp around him. Every single thing is something you could never dream of. His cock pulsed inside your gummy walls and your hands clawed at his back, desperate to grip onto him for support. Various sounds are elicited out of you and the demon grunts from above. You can see the bead of sweat dripping from his forehead, eyes dark as the night but they hold so much passion.

“Feel good angel? Got such a loud pussy on you, you hear that?” The wet lewd sounds fill your ears and you try to focus but all you can hear is the continuous pounding as his cock plunges into your pussy. “She’s just so loud isn’t she? Nasty pussy.”

His words have you reeling and you gasp at every thrust. You babble and scream at the sheer fullness of his cock as it fucks you deeper and deeper.

“A-Ahh! Shut u-up, ‘s embarrassing.”

The demon only grins at your words, cooing softly as you flush from heat. His thrusts quicken as he pounds into you harshly. It’s your first time but he feels as if he’s wrecked you multiple. He feels as if the world’s in his hands as your walls pulsate around his cock. You writhe around below him, moans escaping your beautiful lips, each one growing more and more erotic. He’s already decided he loves seeing you desperate and powerless beneath him, grinding your hips against his.

“You’re such a dirty girl aren’t you?” His voice is deep, laced with menace. He loves the expressions you make, the way you react to the most littlest of things, the way your body is so sensitive. A mere touch can light sparks inside of you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “But you’re my dirty girl.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth never fails to make your stomach light aflame. You gasp and squirm, hands automatically finding the way to his broad shoulders. You hold onto them as he fucks into you. The demon’s mouth crashes onto yours, swallowing every one of your sinful sounds. His fingers massage the supple flesh of your breasts, cupping them in one hand as they bounce. His thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple, causing your body to jolt in surprise.

“Taking me so well.” He watches, amazed, at how your pretty pussy sucks his cock in. You whimper at his praise, sparks igniting within you, something you’ve never felt before. “Tell me how well you take me.” He smirks as he notices how you divert your eyes.

You don’t respond and when you look back you see his eyes narrow at your reluctance to speak. Before you know it he’s lifting your legs higher, his cock reaching deeper. A moan leaves your lips as you struggle to comprehend what is happening. Your mind is hazy and your mouth is open, saliva trickling down your chin.

“I asked you a question slut.”

“So well. So so so well, I take you s-so well, nghhh, oh my god!” You pant under your breath, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. His thumb and forefinger come up to grip your chin, pulling you closer to him.

“Repeat that for me, darling.”

You search his eyes but you find nothing but lust and desire. He grins wickedly, cock thrusting into you harshly. You can feel every inch of him, every pulsating vein that carves into your walls. You gulp, wide eyes never blinking as you stare at him. “My pussy t-takes you so well, mmphh, so so well. Need it deeper, please please please, feels s-so good.””

The words make the demon feral and you feel yourself seeing the stars at the sheer force. He fucks you even harder, grinning as you thrash against his grip. The fire in your body continues to spread, heat swallowing you whole, refusing to let go of you. You throw your head back, little soft moans escaping your delicate lips as you buck your hips up to his, desperate to cum. The tainted sight of your body in his arms makes him groan. Your once bare neck is now littered with bruises that he created. The mark of his. The demon loves knowing that your innocent being is now stained with his essence, one that will stay there forever.

“I’m c-close…” You manage to get out between pants, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. You squeeze around his cock, making him growl. “I’m s-so close!”

“Yeah.” He grunts, quickening the pace of his hips, cock sliding in and out faster than ever. You screw your eyes shut, digging your nails into his back and he hisses. “C’mon angel, cum for me, be a good girl.” He purrs.

Who are you to decline his order?

“Ah ah ah! I-I’m gonna cum, gonna cum so much! F-Feels so so good, hnngh, gonna cum gonna cum.”

The fire inside of you finally bursts, dying embers rain down upon you, your orgasm wracking through your body, every tingle ricocheting off your bones. Your body spasms around his cock, and your cum flows out of your pussy, creaming on his cock. The many mutters of pleasure that leave your mouth are far louder than you expect and you find yourself letting out a strangled scream.

The demon’s cock is still pounding into you and soon warm cum floods your walls, mixing with your own. The warmth spills into your hot core and suddenly you feel so full, not like anything you’ve ever felt like before. His cock is still inside and the movements gradually slow down to a stop. He presses his sweaty forehead against yours and you feel your heart beat faster. You see how his hair, now damp, sticks to his head, eyes twinkling like stars.

You hiss, wincing when he pulls out. The strange feeling of emptiness is one that you’re not used to. The demon hushes your cries with his lips, smoothing our hair down with his hand. He snaps his fingers and suddenly there’s a warm knitted blanket wrapped around your body. The sticky feeling is no more and you feel more comfortable with the wool around your shoulders. He watches as you nod off, eyes drooping and you faintly hear soft words being sung and though you can't make out the exact lyrics of the song you know it’s something you want to hear over and over again.

When you wake up the next morning, the demon's gone and he leaves a pile of sparkling gold coins. Each of them look brighter than the next. They could buy a house for a family. But it's not the gold coins that keep your attention, it's the memory of last night that sticks to your mind. You remember the way he had sung you to sleep and the way his voice sounded so beautiful, so euphoric.

You remember the way he had cleaned you up afterwards, tending to you with utmost care that you had nearly forgotten what he was. And even though there are parts of last night that send tingles up your spine, it was what happened after that made your cheeks heat up and your heart go fuzzy. The wool, knitted blanket has fallen to your lap and you clench it in your hand. It’s so soft and you wrap it around you, inhaling the comforting scent.

It saddens you a bit when you realise he's not there when you wake up, but you have no time to dwell because you can hear the door open. You hurry to shuffle back up, quickly stuffing the blanket to one corner in order to not arouse any suspicion. You don’t say a word when the guards step in. They look unbothered at first but once they catch sight of the gleaming gold where the straw once was, their eyes widen. When their gaze lands on you, you look down, afraid that they would see through you and your lies.

There are hush whispers that are exchanged between them and you briefly hear the words ‘his highness’. You force the lump in your throat to go down, hoping that he will release you. A few minutes go by before Kael comes bursting through the doors, eyes filled with rage. You’re scared. You did what he asked, why is he angry?

A flitting thought passes by that he knows that you had made a contract with a demon crosses your mind however you shake it out. Demons keep their contracts extremely confidential and they make it their pride and honour to withstand that.

“You!” He seethes, lunging for your neck. “How did you do it?!” His grip on your neck isn’t too tight but it’s tight enough that it hurts and you aren’t able to speak. It’s like he reads your mind as he immediately releases his grasp, throwing you onto the floor.

You let out a few coughs, rubbing your sore neck.

“Tell me how you did it?”

“I did as you asked, straw into gold, now set me free.” You don’t bother to look him in the eye.

There's a momentary silence that fills the room and the guards exit without being told. Kael stares down at you, his grey eyes looking like a raging storm. “Free?” He lets out a laugh. “You don’t get to be free until I say so, love.”

You open your mouth in protest but close it when you see his hand rest on the sword by his side. Your blood boils and you keep yourself from lashing out, not wanting to be slain on the spot. Fine, if he wants you to spin straw into gold once more, you will. He has to let you free.

“It seems as if three nights is much too generous and this mere pile of straw.” He picks up the gold, inspecting it as if it was dirt instead of money. “But I'm not cruel, I'll give you the same amount of time to spin double the amount. The guards will deliver the straw later in the afternoon, I expect you know what happens if you don’t succeed.”

He leaves, not sparing a glance as he struts away. Not cruel? Not cruel?! He's delusional if he thinks he isn't cruel. You sit still, thoughts processing in your mind. The guards don’t say anything as they relock the door.

The afternoon comes by sooner than you expect and you watch as another batch of straw is wheeled in. This batch is twice the size of the first one, it covers most of the space in the room. You feel your hopes start to dwindle, wondering if the demon will show up tonight, like he did before.

What if it was a one time thing?

As the hours go by, with no sign of a demon appearing, you start to accept your fate. The sun has already set and the moon is high in the sky. You are sure the hour is late and your eyes are starting to get heavy with sleep. Everything’s so tiring and with all the newly added stress it’s nice to finally get a rest. Pulling out the blanket you wrap it over your shoulders, shuffling to adjust into a comfortable position.

There’s a loud crackle when you let your eyes close and they flicker back to life. The demon is standing in front of you, clothes tinged with smoke and there’s a little fire that he tries to pat it down. He’s cursing at the dying embers and you let a little giggle slip past your lips.

You let a tired smile take over your face, whispering softly. “Hi.”

He looks up at you and an expression of worry crosses his face. “Have you been waiting for me all night?” You nod, slowly finding yourself drifting away. He approaches you, sitting down beside your body. He leans your head on his shoulder, letting you rest. “Go to sleep, you deserve it.”

With his words you finally let yourself snuggle up to him, eyes fluttering shut. Your mind is already asleep as you shuffle around, trying to get into the best position. He looks at you, peacefully sleeping next to a monster who could suck your soul any second now yet he doesn’t, and he won’t.

Soon, he feels his eyes start to droop and his head bobs up and down from sleep. The darkness envelops his sight as he feels your heart beat steadily against his chest. And slowly he drifts off as well, the two of you lying, snuggling for warmth as the moon rises higher. A pair of dark eyes watch the pair and the demon is too absorbed in sleep to notice the way the dark orbs flicker with fire and how they narrow. Then they're gone, disappearing in the dark sky, only traces that they leave behind is the scent of burnt cedar and bitter blueberries.

You awake the next morning to feel a heavy sensation on top of you and you lazily open your eyes, bleary from sleep. The rays of sunshine come through from the tiny window of air you're given. You see things sideways and you're wondering why until you catch sight of the arm around your waist and the scent of musky pine and vanilla. You scramble to sit up straight and feel your cheeks flush when you realise you've been lying on the demon's shoulder for the whole night.

He looks beautiful.

Moving as slowly and quietly as possible, you lift his arm, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. It doesn’t work though because the demon’s awoken and he stares at you with bleary, sleepy eyes. You clear your throat, shuffling away from him.

“Good morning to you too.” He yawns, running his long fingers through his hair.

“Did you stay here for the whole night?”

He blinks. “Well, human, if I’m here right now I suppose that proves your statement correct, doesn’t it?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the bluntness. “I’m sorry I think I should have phrased that better, why did you stay here the whole night?”

This time he flushes, a subtle light pink dusting the apples of his cheeks. He shuffles awkwardly, avoiding your eye contact before whispering something that you can’t quite catch.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I said.” He huffs. “I stayed because I was tired and...and because I wanted to.”

A small smile reaches your lips and you stifle your giggles at his flustered state. The demon meets your eyes and the two of you don’t break each other's gazes. Everything seems to break away in that moment and you forget the predicament you’re in, preferring to find solace in the creature in front of you.

He’s the first one that looks away, prompting you to do as well. Your heart’s beating at an abnormal pace and your breath hitches when he pulls you closer towards him. His eyes fix on your neck and you’re unsure why until you remember the events of what happened yesterday. You shrink back as much as you can, Kael can't have gripped you that hard, can he?

"Did that bastard do that?" He grits his teeth and you see his eyes flash red.

"It's honestly nothing, I'm fine, nothing wrong." You try to reassure him, pushing his hands off your neck. He frowns, tracing his fingers over your throat and you gulp at the soft touch. "W-What are you doing?" You stutter, suddenly nervous at his actions.

He doesn't say a word, finger gliding across your skin. He presses over the place Kael had gripped on your neck. A cool sensation rushes through your body and up to your neck and you suddenly feel much more revived. It feels like ice has just been applied and you see a hint of blue light flash before your eyes, a glowing circle and it bursts raining soft feathers around you. A refreshing scent of mint and the ocean breeze greets your senses and it's so relaxing. The demon smiles. You don't even realise that your eyes are closed until you open them and you see blue sparks, that indicate healing powers, flickering in his palm before it extinguishes.

"What? Demons can have healing abilities, we're not entirely evil."

Now that your eyes are open you realise how close he is to you and your heart picks up again. Your eyes betray you and flicker down to his cherry red lips, ones that you're so desperate to kiss. The demon notices the way you look at him and he too tries not to let his urges take over.

"That's...cool." You're searching for something to say and when each word comes out of your mouth he can't help but look. "Can I ask for your name?"

This causes him to pull back immediately, he flinches as if he's been burnt with hot iron. Your eyes widen when you register what you had just asked. You're spluttering for an apology, trying to grab your words because you somehow think you've offended him but the demon just stares at you blank-faced.

"You know I can't tell you."

You pause before you hang your head in shame. "Yeah, I know."

"I can allow you anything but that."

And yet that's the only thing you want to know.

"Well then…" You let your eyes drift to the pile of straw in the room. "I'm sure you've seen that."

"Yeah." He chuckles. "Need my help?"

You swallow the large lump in your throat, nodding your head. He grins as he approaches you and you back up against the wall. "Can there be a change though?"

"Name it."

"Can I make you feel good?"

That's what makes the demon stop in his tracks, eyes widening. He coughs, spluttering for words. Everything he wants to say, or plans, has flown away and he can only stare at you, blinking like an owl. He can't help the thoughts that invade his head and he watches as you shrink back even further and he wants nothing more but to ruin you. Eventually, after you wave your hand in front of his face, he regains himself, clearing his throat.

"Are you going to make me repeat it…?" He hesitates for his answer and you don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous or he simply has nothing to say. “Actually you know what, it’s fine-”

You stop, words stuck in your throat as he comes impossibly close to you. His eyes are so big as they stare at yours and you don't feel nervous, or the jitters. You feel calm. More than calm. When his lips press onto yours you can’t help but melt under him and it's soothing, maybe because you've already kissed him but every action feels familiar.

His hands wander and you let him cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer towards him. The warmth spreads through your body and you tangle your fingers through his dark locks. You shift on the floor and his hands slip the straps of your dress below your shoulders. Goosebumps follow the trail his lips leave and you let out a quiet moan.

“You’re driving me insane.” He murmurs against your skin, hot breath fanning across your flesh. He locks eyes with you and You whimper softly feeling the weight of his gaze. Your eyes widen when he stands up to his full height and you suddenly feel intimidated by how he’s towering over you. "Fucking love it."

You watch as he unbuckles his belt, eyes fixated on the growing bulge. Your head spins in circles. Every kiss makes the darkness beneath your eyelids burst with colour. Your dress is long forgotten on the floor and all you can focus on is the pretty thing right in front of your face. His cock is red and it's throbbing as he strokes his hand over his length. You can’t help but stare in wonder.

"Open your mouth, angel."

You obey, pretty lips taking his cock into your mouth and he groans. His fingers trace circles at the back of your neck and you peer up at him, long lashes fluttering against your smooth cheeks. He coos, stroking a large hand before cupping your face.

Curses leave his pretty lips, falling off his tongue and you watch his expression contort into one of pure ecstasy as you continue your movements. You pump his cock with your hands, tongue swirling around the head. You're not entirely sure what you're doing and you're doing what you feel is right. Sure enough the demon is squirming and moaning above you, urging you to go faster. You comply, pulling away to ask if you're doing okay and he wordlessly nods, pushing you back down.

"Pretty girl, my pretty whore." He grins wickedly and you feel your pussy clench at the degrading term. "You like that? You like me calling you a dirty whore? That's what you are. My. Fucking. Whore."

He punctuates each word with a thrust and you're rendered speechless, eyes rolling backwards into your skull. You're whimpering around him, tears collecting at your eyes and you plead at him desperately. Salvia drools from your lips, painting his cock with wetness. You know it’s messy but you don’t care.

"Look at you." He coos, fingers wrapping around your jaw as he tugs you to look at him. "A mess around my cock. You asked for this angel."

A warm feeling pools at the bottom of your stomach and it intensifies. You flutter your eyelids shut, enjoying the way you're being ruined. Each thrust of his hips into your mouth makes your body crumble, the arousal coats your pussy and you clench your thighs together. Your throat feels tight and your lips are permanently wrapped around his cock. You continue to bob your head up and down and each time the demon jolts his hips you’re hit in the back of your throat making you moan around his length.

“So so so pretty, fffuckk, your mouth feels so good. You’re such a fucking whore, I’m gonna ruin this little mouth, fill it up with my cum.”

You whimper at the thought. The feeling in your stomach only grows and you start to feel wet. Spit falls from your mouth and your whole body feels as though it’s on fire. There’s the same need and urge that you felt the other day and you’re desperate to release yourself to the desire that pools within you.

The demon above only groans at every lick and suck you give him. You watch as his face contorts, watching every expression with scrutiny. You watch as he squeezes his eyes shut, throws his head back and you watch the plushy lips part open as a guttural moan is released.

Cum trickles into your mouth and your eyes widen at the hotness that spreads across your tongue. You swallow every last drop and the taste seeps into your mouth. It’s not entirely bitter yet it’s not sugary sweet either. A taste you can’t exactly pinpoint but you know that you would never get enough of. The demon watches starry-eyed at your obedience and he groans, tugging at your hair. He bucks his hips, murmuring praises under his breath. You smile when he places a light kiss to your lips and you feel yourself light aflame. It's a strange feeling and the kisses he litters in your body are gentle and sweet. Your name slips from his lips, soft and comforting and his eyes seem to twinkle and you feel yourself falling and falling.

It's as if time stands still. The hours drag on and you thoroughly enjoy the time spent with the demon. He proves to be better company than you could have hoped for. Conversation mixed with humour lightens the mood and despite there being certain topics that aren't one to discuss, the two of you make do. You're still wary, keeping your guard up in case of anything and you suspect he knows as he doesn't prod your boundaries as such.

A day, free from worry, is one you bask in. The demon doesn't know what it is but something about you draws him in. Something about your curious eyes and joyful smile lights something within him. He has a vague idea of what it might be but it's impossible but he can't help but find himself feeling it anyway.

But he knows the consequences will come. Sooner or later. And he hopes later.

The land of Karnopia is vast and grand. Stretching far and wide, its borders seem to fade into infinity, concealing untold horrors within its depths. Here, amidst the desolate silence, the greatest concentration of demons known to existence find their domain. It’s silent and there’s only the soft crackling of dying embers that could be heard. It’s dark and gloomy, no light could be seen. Not many voices are ever heard and even if they are they would be screams of anguish and agony.

"I see you're back, Satoru." A man with ghostly pale skin and shocking black hair remarks, his attention momentarily torn from his magazine as the demon enters the house. "You're returning later and later. This wouldn't have anything to do with that human girl you've contracted with, would it?"

“What’s it to you?” Satoru's lip curls in a snarl, his teeth bared defensively. He realises too late that his reaction betrays his vulnerability, a fact not lost on the man before him.

The man's grin widens at Satoru's response. "Ah, it seems I've struck a nerve. Could it be that poor Satoru has fallen in love?"

Satoru’s cheeks heat up, tinting with a soft pink flush. The memory of your bright smile and the sound of your melodic voice linger in his mind, stubbornly refusing to fade. With you, there's no clear boundary between contractor and demon; it's as if all his defences have crumbled in your presence, a vulnerability he knows is dangerous.

"Shut up."

The demon's eyes flicker ominously, shifting from their usual dark blue hue to a fiery red. With a dismissive gesture, he discards the magazine and advances toward Satoru, his strides purposeful and unsettling.

"You do realise," He begins, his voice dripping with malice. "that if you've truly fallen for her, you're paying a higher price than she is." His words hang heavy in the air, laden with a warning that sends a shiver down Satoru's spine. "You're putting yourself in danger, as well as her. Her life can be snuffed out with ease. His Majesty won't take kindly to this."

“My father doesn’t like anything I do, so there isn’t a point.” Satoru snaps back, shrugging his jacket off, making his way up to his room. “And I know what I’m risking.” He doesn’t say more as he trudges upstairs.

There is no more to be said and the black-haired demon can do nothing but sigh, hoping his friend truly had everything under control. If Satoru's feelings for you are genuine, it could spark a conflict that would tear their world apart. A war that will divide everyone.

Satoru slams his door shut, leaning against it as he exhales a shaky breath. His room, in stark contrast to the rest of the house, is a sanctuary. Dim light filters through heavy curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the walls. It’s here, in the privacy of his own space, that he allows himself to think of you freely. His mind drifts back to the last time he saw you, the way you looked at him with such trust and affection. It’s a rare and precious thing for a demon to experience, and it’s something he treasures more than his own life.

Somewhere far away you lie, peacefully sleeping, not knowing that your demon was still awake, replaying the words he had heard. If his feelings are true he knows nothing good will come of this and all he hopes is that you will be safe.

It’s weird to say the least.

Lately, the demon’s been visiting you more often than expected. Usually it’s on the days you need help but now, he arrives at the crack of dawn and stays till the sun sets. You don’t know how long it’s been that you’ve been trapped. You don’t complain because, as much as you hate to admit it, you've grown accustomed to him. Dare say you like his company. It makes the cold cell more warm when he’s around. He doesn’t do much but talk and most of the time the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

You still don’t know what to do. Or what Kael will do. He hasn't come to visit and you’ve been locked up for a couple of days since he came. You hope he’s forgotten about you but you doubt that was the case.

It scares you when you think about it so you try not to give it much thought. You indulge yourself in thinking what Rei and Ayato would be doing right this moment. Home is something you think about often and it’s impossible not to feel sad about it. The demon’s here though, he makes things better even if it’s by a little bit.

“So you’re a perfumer?” He frowns. “Don’t you normally earn lots of money with that? How are you not...well, you know?”

“Rich?” You scoff light-heartedly. “To get rich you need a business, silly, and to get a business you need some sort of advertisement that boosts the popularity of your product. However, no noble will buy my perfume considering my status in the kingdom.” You sigh, shrugging. “It’s just how life is. I’m perfectly content with just selling it to the people around in the village.”

“Yet you don’t want the world to know of your talent?” The demon snorts. “If I had such skills I would be raking in coins every day and feeding myself till I’m full.” He pauses, creasing his brow. “And I think it’s stupid how the nobility look down when they do nothing but sit on their ass all day.”

You let out a laugh at his statement, nodding your head in agreement.

The loud thundering sounds of footsteps stop your slight happiness and once again you’re thrown into a pot of fright. You turn to tell the demon to go but he’s already gone so you busy yourself to pretend you are sleeping. The door slams open and you can feel the heat of the candle above your face. You tell yourself not to move. Not to make a sound, steadying your breathing.

“Wake up.” A low voice grunts and you keep your eyes shut, hoping that they’ll go away if you feign sleep. “Wake up bitch.” A swift kick is delivered to your stomach and you cough at the impact, wincing as you grip your wounded body.

“No need to kick the dog Derek.” A voice drawls from the side and you look up to see two guards, grinning like sharks. “We don’t want the pretty lady to have scars now.”

A hand reaches to grab your face and you push away, determined to resist the vile touch. The man’s silver hair is pushed back and he leans his face to yours. Your eyes are wide and you urgently try to get free.

“It’s a shame.” Derek sneers. “The King always brings such beautiful women but never lets us have a taste.” His tongue flicks over his lips and you hold in a shriek.

Suddenly, a force whips both men off their feet and they’re on the ground before you can blink. You scramble away, free from the guards grasp and you feel an invisible hand caress your shoulder soothingly and you know who it is.

“What the fuck?!” The guard by the door says, holding his head as he gets back up. “The hell?!”

And then there’s a freezing temperature that sets in the room and the two guards' eyes go misty. Their bodies stand still, dropping their weapons as they slump like their ragdolls. You shuffle back until you hit the warm back of your demon.

“Shhh.” He whispers. You whip around to see him behind you, sparkling scarlet eyes. He beckons you over and you follow. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Warmth fills you and you try to maintain your rapidly beating heart. “Calm down darling.” His nose brushes the shell of your ear as his hot breath flicks over your face.

You watch the guards turn away and march like robots as they lock the door once again. They don’t acknowledge you or the magical being behind you. The room then returns to its normal state and you turn to see that the demon’s eyes have gone back to the black it once was.

You’re shaken to say the least. The demon takes his hand off you but you reach for it, gripping onto it for dear life as you snuggle back into him. He chuckles but lets you stay as he props his chin onto your head.

“Thank you.” You mumble.

The demon picks you up and lays you down so you’re facing the ceiling. He lifts your dress and you splutter, confused. He only puts a finger to your lips as he examines your bare stomach. The pain of the kick is still there and he lets his hand press down on the spot and you hiss. He whispers sorry before rubbing your wound.

You let your eyes flutter shut and they snap open when he gives you a kiss on the lips. You melt into him, moving your lips against his. Your heart is racing and you wrap your thighs around his waist, trying to pick yourself up but his hand pushes you down.

“You’re injured.” He merely says and his kisses start to trail down, across your breasts down to your stomach where he makes sure to take extra care. You squirm as if his lips are burning iron and your skin is ice. His eyes stay locked with yours as he continues to travel down.

You pant as he kisses your core, licking through the fabric of your panties. You were already so wet and his tongue only made your body jolt with pleasure. You squeal as he pushes the flush fabric to the side to devour you. His fingers rest at your hips and you reach down to take his hand into yours. It’s as if sparks are flying everywhere and you whimper helplessly.

“You’re so pretty Y/n.” He repeats, deepening the movements of his tongue. Each flick has you moaning with pleasure. You squeeze his hand, pussy clenching at the overwhelming heat as it overtakes your body.

"I could say the same for you."

A low chuckle emits from his throat and he continues the blissful torture while you fall apart. You squirm as he prods your bud, eliciting moans out of your mouth. He’s so skill full with his tongue, every movement has you begging for more. Your hands tangle through his hair, tugging the strands as you whine.

“So so sooo good! Oh my god, feels so g-good.” Your words are incoherent, mixed in with moans and mewls as you babble on and on. “A-Ahh!”

“Satoru.” The name falls from his lips effortlessly and you barely register what he’s said until he repeats it again and then your foggy mind is cleared, realising what he’s done. “My name, say my name, f-fuckk.”

“B-But…”

“Say it angel, wanna hear it from your pretty mouth, beg me for me to let you cum.”

You gasp when he thrusts his tongue inside you, making you fall apart as he laps greedily at your cunt.

“S-Satoruuu!” You let out a strangled gasp when his fingers press against your clit. He draws tiny circles, eliciting the most delectable sounds from your body. “Satoru ‘s so good, feels amazing, Satoru Satoru Satoru.”

You chant his name like it’s the only thing you know how to do. All this time you had always secretly wanted to know who this demon was and now you did you couldn’t help but cling onto him desperately. His name was so pretty and you knew he would have you screaming it even louder soon enough.

Satoru groans at your words, the vibrations ricochet through your body and you squeak at the sensation. He slides his fingers through your soaking folds, engraved at the way his saliva coated you. There’s a mixture of spit and your arousal and Satoru can’t seem to get enough. He savours your sweet honeyed taste, watching as you spasm and thrash above him. He loves looking at you, seeing what reactions he could get out of you.

“You’re so pretty, so so beautiful, god I could die happily with your pussy on my face.” The dirty words only make you wetter as you whimper at the vibrations that surge through your body. “You taste so sweet angel, f-ffuck, want more of you.”

There’s an undeniable mess between your legs that has been created and when you glance down to see the white-haired demon drinking you up as if you were the only thing able to quench his thirst, you can’t help but moan at the lewd sight. The noises fill your ears, the messy slurping and blissed out whines as you grip his hair. Your hips lift up, jutting yourself against his face as you rock your hips back and forth, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

“Gonna cum gonna cum! F-Fuck ‘toruuuu!”

The nickname has Satoru going feral as he groans at your words, diving down to suck faster. His tongue thrusts in and out of you, fingers rubbing your clit harsher. He inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt, plunging them in and out as the delicious sounds amplify. You’re so wet and your arousal runs down his fingers, and Satoru can only watch in wonder as he laps greedily. You’re convulsing around him, screaming his anime over and over again while he ravages your body. Never in your life have you felt such intense pleasure and Satoru doesn’t stop. His movements are constant, low groans and moans that send electricity shooting up your body.

“C’mon angel, cum f’me, let me see this nasty pussy spray all over my face, wanna drink you up so baddd.” His voice is close to a whine and he’s just as fucked out as you as he begs you to release all over him.

Your mind is foggy, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you thrash violently as your orgasm bursts. You let out a strangled gasp as you felt liquid gush everywhere and suddenly the feeling of Satoru’s fingers and mouth are all too overwhelming. The sensation is raised to a hundred times more and you find yourself writhing with the utmost pleasure. His fingers swipe at your core and you see his face covered with your juices and you heat up, embarrassed at what you had just done.

There’s a moment of silence before Satoru lets out a deep growl. His eyes darken and you feel your heart pick up while he stares at your spent pussy. You’re clenching around thin air and all the demon can do is watch as you heave breaths, forcing oxygen to fill your lungs as you try to calm down from your high.

“Give me another one.” He demands as he dives back down to make out with your pussy once more. His actions cause you to jolt, whining loudly at the sudden overstimulation. His breath is hot against your folds and you just melt at the way he consumes your cunt. “Want another one angel, g-god, want to taste you again and have you cover me in your cum, you’re s-so pretty wanna devour you so bad.”

Your noises die at your throat as you’re fucked stupid by his tongue. Your mouth is agape, tongue lolling out as you pant breathily. Satoru is relentless. He sucks and prods, urging you to release again. Tears leave your eyes and you feel yourself edge closer and closer. Your back naturally arches, pushing your hips forward as you feel your body get overtaken once again. Satoru whines against your cunt, lapping faster and faster until you’re gushing once more. He groans as you coat his face in a wet sheen. He’s slurping your juices messily, making sure none of it goes to waste.

“Y-You’re so cruel…” You manage to breathe out as he finally lifts his head from in between your legs. There’s a smug smirk on his face and you see the playful glint in his sapphire eyes as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“What do you mean?” Satoru’s voice is faked to be innocent and you scowl at the tone. He merely giggles at your accusation, climbing up to give you a kiss and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself through him. You feel yourself grow hot all over again as his hands wander to your tits, squeezing them gently.

“You k-know what I mean.”

“Hmm, don’t think I do.” He murmurs, his lips grazing your skin as he places soft kisses along your collarbone. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and his gentle sucking leaves red blooming marks in his wake. His hands wander over your body, fingers tracing delicate patterns that ignite a warmth within you. He moves slowly, savouring each moment as if he’s memorising every inch of you. The intimacy of the moment makes your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Satoru.” You whisper, your voice barely audible. His name feels like a prayer on your lips, a plea for something more.

He pauses, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Yes?”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I... I need you.”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I know.” His voice is dripping with a mix of confidence and tenderness. “And I’m right here.”

With that, he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of longing and desire. You melt into him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were made for each other. His hands slide lower, fingers dancing along the curve of your waist and hips. You respond eagerly, your own hands roaming over his body, feeling the hard planes of muscle.

“Tell me what you need.” Satoru whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalising.

“You.” You breathe, your voice trembling with desire. “Just you.”

He shifts, guiding you gently to lie back, his body pressing down against yours in a way that makes you feel both protected and desired. His kisses trail lower, down your neck and across your shoulders, each one igniting a new wave of heat within you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He mutters against your skin, his voice a husky whisper. “You’re so beautiful, fuck, all for me.”

Your thoughts only become more feral once he pushes into your plushy pussy. His cock stretches you out and you already feel fucked out from the sheer size. Satoru groans as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. His hot breath tickles your skin and you squirm, desperate for him to start moving. There’s nothing more addicting than him and you found yourself begging for more, constantly calling his name as he ploughs into your pussy.

“Such a wet cunt hngh - so tight and warm, fuck wanna have you all to myself angel. You’re mine, got it? All mine, gonna take you away from here and - and have you all to myself, nghh fuck Y/n-”

His cock bullies into your pussy, moulding your walls to fit him perfectly. He hits your cervix so beautifully that it has you writhing and arching. Each movement makes you tremble and shake and you cry out his name repeatedly. You watch as he fucks into you, turning you into a mushy lewd mess under him. His white hair falls into his eyes and you can’t help but think he’s so sexy as he moans. Your hands loop around his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

Satoru feels so good. He thrusts into you faster, cock splitting you open over and over again. Each stroke reaches a new deep part of your body that you didn’t even know existed. His balls smack against your ass, the sound tainting your ears. His fingers dig into your hips, gripping them hard as he pounds into your tight cunt.

“A-Angelll stop squeezing me s-so tight hah fuck!”

Satoru whines and you’re close to seeing stars as you unintentionally clench around his cock. He’s so alluring as he towers over you and strangely enough you feel heat blossom in your chest.

“Satoru-” You gasp when you feel him kiss your neck. His teeth scratches your flesh and you squirm in his grip. “Satoru Satoru s-stopp ‘m gonna cum, please please please, ‘toru too much hnghh ‘s too much!”

“C’mon angel, doing so good f’me, such a good girl angel, cum around my cock wanna feel you s-so bad.”

When you look at the demon looming over you you don’t recognise the blushing fucked out face that’s begging you to release all over him. He’s chanting your name as his cock pounds into you. You feel the sensation in your stomach tighten and you moan. The tip of Satoru’s cock hits your cervix and every time it does it has you whining and thrashing.

Your breathing picks up and you grind your hips against his. You feel him throbbing inside you, and somehow his cock grows even bigger causing you to moan louder and louder. You’re so wet and Satoru stares at the way you suck him in deliciously. He loves to see the way you take him in and he’s enamoured at the sheer feeling you provide.

“Satoru I’m gonna cu- oh!” You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re convulsing around his cock, squeezing him from all that he’s worth. Your pussy releases all over him, your juices coating his body and it’s like falling into a warm endless abyss. His name’s a broken cry on your lips as you cum around his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck angel g-god love your pussy s’much, I love you s-so much!”

And then Satoru’s tumbling over his release. He’s a moaning mess as spurts of cum flood your gummy walls. You feel so so full and you feel his seed drip down your thighs. His cock still sits snugly in your cunt as you pant breathily. Thick hot cum flows out your pussy as he slowly pulls out and you wince at the feeling.

Satoru cages you between his arms and you see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly and how his lips are tinted just the slightest hue of pink. He’s so pretty and it’s almost impossible not to fall for him. The both of you lie in silence for a while, basking in the aftermath.

“Do you mean it?”

You look over to Satoru and the demon’s already looking back at you. His eyes were such a piercing blue but the eyes that once scared you now provided comfort and you feel your heart race as you watch him.

“Mean what?”

“You know what Satoru.” The name is new on your tongue despite you chanting it just seconds ago. His name, the thing that no demon was allowed to give, is now yours. You like the way it rolls off your tongue with ease and when you observe him closer you see the way his ears have gone red and how his eyes dart everywhere.

“And what if I do, what would that mean?”

Satoru looks away and you watch as he tugs his shirt over his body. His hands reach up to his hair as he brushes it out of his eyes and you sigh. There’s fragile silence that envelops you both.

“It would mean everything.” You whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “It would mean that this...whatever we have...is real.” Satoru's hands still, his fingers tangled in his hair. He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or insincerity.

“I don’t know when this happened.” You continued. “But somehow, for some reason, I’ve grown to be more attached to you. I can’t go a day without seeing your face and I certainly can’t go forever without meeting you again.”

Satoru’s eyes soften, and for the first time, you see a flicker of vulnerability in them. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

“So you also…you know…love me…” His voice is barely above a whisper and you giggle at his awkwardness.

“Maybe a tiny bit.”

The demon scoffs rolling his eyes as he shuffles further away from you. “Fine then, just go stomp all over my feelings, cruel human.” There’s a mixture of annoyance and teasing in his eyes and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m only teasing Satoru-” And he’s right in front of you as soon as you say his name. You gulp at the close proximity and you feel your heart beat rapidly. “Why’re so close?”

“Say it again, please.” And you do, you say his name and he asks for it to be said again and again. You watch as each time you do his smile widens and you gasp when he pulls you close to his chest. “It sounds so pretty coming out from your lips.”

You feel a lump forming in your throat as you recall the moment he whispered his name to you. “Why did you do it? Why did you give me your name?”

“Because it felt right.” His reply is instant and you lift your head to look at him. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, something weird and…human I guess. But the feeling feels right and I know that giving you my name is the right thing to do. Plus, it sounds so perfect coming from you.”

Your heart flutters at his words and there’s mischief in his grin as he places a kiss on your forehead. Your hand reaches for his and you feel the sparks of electricity that pass between the two of you as you intertwine your fingers. A small smile makes its way onto your face and Satoru knows he’ll do anything for you for the rest of eternity.

“So when are you going to teleport me out of here?”

“Wow Y/n.” Satoru huffs out a breath immediately releasing his hands from yours. “Just using me for my powers now, I see.” You let out a laugh as you see the small pout forming on his lips and you can’t help but think he’s cute. Your laughter’s cut short as his hands grab your face, pulling you into a kiss. You melt into his embrace, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer.

When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. His eyes are half-lidded, dark with desire, and a playful smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s payment, everytime I use my powers for you I require a kiss.”

You beam up at him, arms tugging him closer. “That’s a deal.”

Your lips meet his and the two of you become lost in each other. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His taste is intoxicating, a mix of something sweet and something entirely Satoru. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks, and you feel like you’re floating. As you pull back you can’t help but smile as the kiss lingers on your lips.

“Where do you want to go?” Satoru asks.

“Anywhere, anywhere with you.”

Satoru grins as he kisses you again, short and sweet, before he tangles his hands with yours, hugging you close to his body. You close your eyes as you feel a rush of air brush past you. You grip onto Satoru tightly and you smile to yourself knowing that wherever he takes you, you’ll gladly follow because you’re his and he’s yours.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #jjk fic #smut #satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo headcanons #jjk headcanons

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

Text

wait for you ☆ cl16

genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah

req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss

“Come on! Don’t be like that.”

It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.

It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.

Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos.

We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.

But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.

With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.

“I do love having you to myself…”

“So it’s settled. Not yet.”

The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…

“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”

Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”

“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.

“You guys…”

Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”

“Or she’s not that into you.”

The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”

Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”

As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”

You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it.

That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.

“You sound so sweet…”

You grip his shoulders tighter.

“Doing so good for me, yeah?”

You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.

“Do you love me?”

More than anything.

“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”

“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”

You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.

With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”

“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”

“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”

All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”

The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”

You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”

“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”

A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.

“Why did you stop?”

“Why do you look scared?”

Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”

“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”

“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”

“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”

The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time.

Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”

The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”

Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”

“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.

He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”

“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”

“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”

“How about we don’t?”

You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”

“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”

Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination.

“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”

The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…

Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”

He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”

taglist: @myownwritings

*anyone is welcome to lmk and i'll add you along :)

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nezuscribe · 9 months

Text

𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

summary: being gojo's wife was better than you could have imagined, too good perhaps. when you have doubts about being with him, gojo must simply show you that they're wrong

pairing: gojo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, mild angst, heavy smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, heavy making out, gojo is a little possessive (but that's okay!)

note: this could be a historical au if you squint but i was too tired to go in-depth. also sorry for any typos, i might fix it later

word count: 3.3k

jjk masterlist

gojo saturo was a man who was always sure of himself.

he didn’t need anybody to tell him of his strength. the word of his agility spread across the aegean sea, and his strength rivaled no other man. his stark beauty that only came with having a goddess as a mother, and his snide remarks that came with being fed with a silver spoon his entire life.

and yet you had never seen gojo so angry. never seen his eyes turn such a shade of gray, his hair framing his face messily as he breathed as though each inhale cost him the regular amount three would take.

his (your) sleeping quarters usually a comforting place for you to be, but it all felt cold now. you could barely look at him without feeling the bile rise in your throat, wondering if you finally ruined the lick of happiness you were blessed with these past few months.

who would have thought your words would have such an effect on him?

"what do you mean let you leave?" he spat your earlier statement as if it burned his tongue, seared his flesh as he if the prospect was enough to set even the holiest man aflame.

"i," you paused, your back pressing up against the wall as tears treacherously stabbed at your waterline, “i just think that you could have somebody…worthier.” you used the heel of your palm to wipe at your cheeks, hoping that the darkness would hide your weakness.

he took in another labored breath as if hearing you say it again was the confirmation he needed to make sure he heard you correctly the first time.

“you could have anybody, gojo,” his lips curled at the use of his last name, getting comfortable with hearing ‘toru fall off your soft lips, “i don’t want you to be bound to me because you wanted to spite-”

“spite?” he throws it out, cutting you off, scoffing in disbelief as you nod slowly.

“you don’t have to take me for a fool,” you say through a sniffle, the moon carding through the window as it bounces off of his beautiful face, “i don’t have much to give, but i’m not dense. i know that there wouldn’t be many reasons after spite to take me as your wife.”

he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking at you and then at the tears that stained your soft cheeks. he wanted to reach out and wipe them, to kiss the salt away, and to give you words that held his heart in each syllable but you would only deem them as moments to fill the silence and to please the gods.

“then you are dense if you think that’s why i picked you as my wife,” he tells you finally, the words cutting you through your nightgown and through your chest. you were aware he wielded the sword better than any grecian warrior, but you never would have guessed that his words could be just as powerful.

“your mother wants-”

“damn what she wants!” he cracked, shaking in anger as your lips wobbled at the flash that crossed his face, he rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, looking away, trying to calm himself down as his hair fell into his eyes, “have you ever stopped to think about what about what i want?”

you didn’t know what he wanted. you had always thought that the gojo satoru would pick somebody spectacular to be his equal, somebody whose name was just as prominent as his. you thought that his wife would have been a child of a god as well, somebody who could match him on his every level.

but now you weren’t sure, your past judgment slipping away as you took in his disheveled state.

“i,” he sighed, looking at you as he shook his head, “i want you so much that hearing you say you want to leave damn near tore my heart out. i want you so much that my every waking moment is spent thinking, dreaming, wanting you. you are the only person that i care for.” he choked out, his voice raw as he pushed the strands away so he could see you.

you couldn’t find anything to say as your lips trembled as you tried to conceal your cries. if only he knew your petty tears came from years of these words being muttered in the back of your head, from the people around you, and only tonight did they finally spill. you were strong, and you could control your emotions better than most, but seeing him tonight with the woman blatantly trying to win his attention proved the fragility in your mask. you knew that accepting his hand in marriage meant having to have skin thicker than before, but after months of hearing the crude rumors of why he picked you out of anybody else chipped away at you before this was all that was left.

“i didn’t want you to be my wife out of spite,” he takes a tentative step forward, hoping that you don’t cower away because of it, “i wanted you to be my wife because i loved you too much for you to be anything but.” he walks again, his long legs reaching you in a matter of milliseconds as he’s now closer than he was before, his striking eyes taking you in better as you look at him from above your lashes, not wanting him to see you this way.

“you are so smart yet sometimes you can’t see beyond what people tell you,” he murmurs, pulling you into his chest as you let him, this warmth something you knew you could no longer live without, “i will not let you leave.”

“but-”

“listen to me,” he murmurs firmly, his fingers grasping your jaw as he lifts it up so you can see him.

“i will not let you leave…unless you want to,” his thumb swipes away at the corner of your eyes, searching for answers, “do you want to?”

no, you don’t.

you want to stay. you want to wake up to his kisses and his gentle touch, the honeyed words he’d tell you as he held you close to his naked body. you wanted to stay and experience what it’s like having the strongest soldier as your husband, to know that he wouldn’t let a fly land on your head. you want him.

“no,” you look away, your cheeks heating up under his heavy gaze, “but-”

“then don’t leave.” he cut you off again, shushing your doubts as he shook his head. his fingers trailed across your shoulders, long as you felt them travel down the cloth that covered your back, holding your waist as he ran them across the expanse of your body.

he knew the things you told yourself sometimes, he’d comforted you those nights when the darkness sheltered your tears and all he could do was tell you that you were wrong and hold you close to his thumping heart.

this was the furthest it had ever been. his heart was thumping erratically and he was sure it would jump out of his throat if you actually left.

“‘toru, i really think that….” you trailed off as he dropped his head down, his lips finding your neck as he littered wet kisses on your skin, mouth curling into a smile as he heard your breathing hitch.

he gripped your hips tightly, undoing the knot that met in the middle of your collarbones, watching as your robe fell to show off your supple skin to him. you wanted to hide, never getting used to that hungry look that would take over his face as he eyed your breaths, his cheeks glowing pink as he nudged his thigh in between your two legs.

“do you really think i could live without these?” he asked, his hands cupping your tits as he flicked his thumb over your pert nipples, your lips catching between your teeth to hide your whines, “without you?” his hands ran down your stomach, his nose rubbing against your cheek as he teased his lips over yours, a cruel grin threatening to make its way onto his stunning face as you tried to meet him where he was.

“now you’re eager?” he taunted, getting drunk off of your helpless whines, enjoying knowing the fact that neither of you would be able to survive without the other, that he needed to breathe your air in order to live. he could taunt and tease you as much as he’d want, but in the end, he’d always oblige.

he kissed you like a man starved, his lips crashing against yours as you let out a small gasp. he took the air from your lungs, your teeth clashing against each other as he held you to him, your nipples rubbing against his chest as he moaned into your mouth, wanting more.

“want you, always want you,” you murmur against him, your fingers curling at the stray hairs at his nape, pulling him closer to you as you press up to kiss him again.

“then don’t ever say anything like that again,” he whispered, and for the first time that night you heard the vulnerability in his words, “i want you so bad that i can barely think straight without you.”

you wanted to apologize but he stopped you, already knowing the words that were going to come out of your mouth. He nipped at your lips, stealing your apology away silently, not wanting to see your pretty tears anymore, the sight hurting him more than any wound he’s attained in all his years as a warrior.

dropping down to his knees as he breathed in your scent, his eyes rolling back as you tried to look away in embarrassment. He’d press kissed to your inner thighs, stopping just where you needed and wanted him most, taking your knee as he guided it upwards to rest on his shoulders, looking up at you as he rolled and smirked.

“you think anybody else will love you like i do? treat you like this?” you shook your head, your fingers curling into his white hair as your head thumped against the wall, his hot breath fanning over your fluttering entrance as you whined out for him.

“mmh, fuck,” he loved seeing you like this, beautifully naked, sweat dotting on your skin as you wrapped your leg around his back, “hurry up ‘toru,” you were impatient and he loved that about you.

“anything for my wife,” he said, his mouth finally finding your clit as you let out a pleased cry, his fingers prodding at your dripping entrance as your eyes squeezed shut. this is where he loved to be most, the saccharine taste of you on his tongue, washing over his body as he grew taunt against his stomach.

he sucked, his two fingers reaching deep in you as he curled them, switching them with his mouth occasionally as your grip on his hair grew tighter, guiding him up and down as he slurped your juices away, the sound echoing across the chamber.

“just like that!” you moaned when he reached your spongy spot, your walls clenching around his fingers, your essence staining his chin as he looked up at you with a dopey look in his eyes, “fuuuck ‘toru,” your words were the sin that he longed for, tainting his existence with the presence of your love.

he could feel you getting closer, his movements getting faster as he held one against your ass, cupping it as he brought you even impossibly closer to him, eating you out as he had never eaten a meal as good as this, and you did try to stop the noises that fell out of your mouth as you squeezed against him, creaming on his fingers as he brought you to your high, crying out his name as you tried to dig yourself against the wall.

your heavy breathing filled the room, your grip on his hair loosening up as he kissed your inner thigh one last time before disconnecting himself from your spasming pussy, grinning like a fool as he balanced himself on his haunches.

“good?”

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, still trying to catch your breath as he chuckled, standing up as he brought you to his chest once again. you would never get tired of him like this, your juices on his lips and chin as he looked at you like you were his god.

he would argue that you most definitely were.

he pressed his lips to yours once again, letting you taste yourself on him as you whimpered against his rapid movements, grasping onto his arms for support as you hooked a leg around his waist, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

you could feel him hard against your stomach, and you looked down, his robes not doing much to hide his length.

“see what you do to me?” he said against the shell of your ear, your fingers running up and down his clothed cock, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling as you continued your motions, enjoying the way he dropped his head in the crook of your neck, “you’re mine.”

“you flatter me,” you teased, your eyes still a little puffy but you cracked a smile, feeling him puff out a laugh as he shook his head, grasping onto your waist as though that was the only thing that could keep him standing.

if only his enemies could see him like this; reduced to a mere mess all from your fleeting touch.

“i’m being honest.” he sucks onto your neck, his nose nudging your jaw as you tug onto his clothing, your fingers grasping onto the sturdy fabric as you push it down, your eyes taking in his physique as he stands naked before you, the two of you finally even.

“you’re so pretty,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes rake over his abs, the faint scars that litter his torso, the white hair that leads down to his angry cock that leaks pre all over his stomach.

he snorts, rolling his eyes as he wraps your legs around his hips once again, hoisting your upwards like you weigh nothing as he rested his dick in between your puffy folds, cocking his head as he looked at you through his long lashes.

“me?” he asks as you giggle softly, nodding as his heart flutters at the sound, “i wish. look at your eyes,” he presses a kiss against your lids, “and your nose,” he kisses the tip of your nose as you try not to laugh even louder, the giddy sound something he hopes the gods could hear so that would envy him and the woman he has in his hands, “and your lips,” he pecks them, “and your smart, smart head,” he presses another kiss against your hairline, balancing your body in his arms, “my beautiful wife.” he finishes, looking back at your flustered figure, proud of his work.

“stop,” you whine, not making any motion to actually stop him, bathing in the endless attention as he tapped his cock head against your clit, your laughs seizing as you look down, forgetting where you were, “you’re such a tease ‘toru.”

“only because i love you so much,” he said, thrusting up into you as your mouth dropped open into a wanton moan, your head falling back as he took in a sharp breath between his teeth, never getting used to the way you clenched so tightly around him, making it hard to not come in just a matter of seconds.

“f-fuck,” he moaned, his hot breath hitting your breasts as he dropped his head down to see where the two of you connected, slowly moving his hips as he moved in and out of you, his mushroom tip catching in your fluttering walls as your nails dug into his back, dragging red lines down as he began to rhythmically pound into you, “you’re so fucking tight,”

“mmmh!” you could only whine out, your words slurring in your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, the feeling of his dick thumping against you was better than any other feeling in the world, you could barely try to raise your hips up to meet him, but he took care of it for you, his strength never failing to amaze you, “l-love you so much ‘toru, m’sorry for w-what i said!”

even if he was still caught up over it, he fucked you as if to make you forget about it.

“my wife,” he’d mutter over and over again, searing the words into fate as he fucked you with so much love that it seeped out of his pores. Sweat caught on his brow and his cupids bow and you ducked down to kiss it away, the salty taste on your lips welcoming back as he feverishly kissed you back, “my wife.”

you loved the way his veins dragged up and down your walls, the rings of your essence and creams that frothed around the base of his cock, the way his thighs clenched as his fingers dug into your ass.

this was something you knew you could never find anywhere else. gojo satoru was something you could never find anywhere else.

“say your mine, f-fuck, say it,” he muttered against your skin, “need to hear you say it.”

“m’yours!” your fingers tugged at his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as he welcomed the sting, “i’m only yours!”

His eyes rolled back as you continued to flutter against him, his high coming faster than it usually would, but he knew that he couldn’t control it with the way you kept crying out his name in that honeyed tone of yours.

“shit, i’m ‘gonna cum, cum with me, need to feel you cum around me…” he rambled on, your pussy made him crazy. And you were nodding your head, not knowing how to speak anymore as his hips shuddered, your releases spraying each other as he cummed deep into you, white trickling out from where he had you plugged out as you cried out from the pleasure that washed over your body.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispered after a couple of seconds passed, and you were still trying to recover from your second orgasm of the night, his words warming your soul as he kissed your cheeks.

you looked up at him, suddenly bashful despite what happened, and he had the audacity to cackle at the sight.

you were stunning always, but he loved this look the most. the sleepy but pleased look in your eyes as you clung to him, your arms draping from his shoulders as he walked with you connected to him, just as you should be. he loved the little smile that would always litter your lips after sex, knowing that if he were to die now he’d die a happy man.

“come on,” he kept you wrapped around his waist as he kept one hand under your ass and one tightly around his waist, “i’ll let you rest, but i need to get some things to clean you up.” his eyes trailed to the mess he made, trying not to let his cock harden at the white that painted your thighs and seeped out from your pussy, knowing you were too tired for another round.

“i love you,” you muttered into his neck, pressing a kiss where your lips were and he shuddered.

he squeezed you tightly to him, not knowing what he’d do if you were to leave. he was a man far gone, you had too much control over him to ever submit to any other king again. you were the only being who could tell him what to do, what to feel, and what to love.

“love you most, my beautiful wife.”

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scoobysnakz · 4 months

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loser miguel who, at first, feels so much shame he could be sick, but when your breath shortens at the sight of his reddened eyes, that guilt is replaced with a stronger, more persistent hunger.

loser miguel who can’t get his hands off his cock; you look too pretty to stop now. your wide, shocked eyes glued to him, flickering between the desperate expression on his face and his calloused hands encasing his girthy length. that look of pure shock only serves to make him more ravenous, more crazed, more infatuated with you.

loser miguel who watches, mesmerized as you walk over to him, your shiny eyes drinking in the sight of his leaky cock. he can practically smell your desire, and god, it’s making him insane.

“por favor, te necesito,” he whines, head lolling to the side.

“migs… is that my lab coat?” part of you can’t bare to hear the answer but that other, sick and twisted part that craves validation, is desperate to hear him answer yes in that panty wetting accent.

“can’t stop.” his voice is harsher now, not mean but it carries a certain huskiness that makes your mind fuzzy. “fuck, need your pretty lips, mami.”

loser miguel whose heart nearly stops as you sink down onto your knees, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and hands clenched into fists. you can’t bring yourself to look at it, it has an almost godly presence, which you know is stupid, but it’s part of him, part of miguel.

he keeps stroking his cock, you on your knees beneath only serving to make him harder and more needy. his core aches with longing, a silent declaration of desire in his eyes as he fights the urge to buck his hips into your face.

loser miguel who gets an automatic ego boost at the way you stare at his cock. miguel isn’t a lazy man, far from it, but that isn’t to say he shaves. almost every inch of this man is covered in thick hair that resembles the same darkness as the chocolatey mop on his head. and he can see the way it goes straight to your cunt.

a few times, you’ve been blessed with the view of his happy trail on the odd occasion he’s stretched with only a t-shirt on. but never have you seen past the bulky thighs which are infamously known all throughout the crinkled pages of your diary, that you’ve had countless dreams of being trapped between, and fuck, do you feel like you’ve missed out.

his cock is huge, at least eight inches, with balls that hang heavy, twitching to release their load into your pretty little mouth.

loser miguel who has to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a loud moan as you press your soft lips to his rosy tip, his precum leaving your lips looking temptingly glossy.

you drag your tongue across your lips, savouring the tangy taste as it melts on your tastebuds. you, carefully, lower your mouth around his shaft, forcing your jaw to go slack as a feeble attempt to accommodate his size.

the feeling of your tongue, flat against the underside of his cock, sends his mind racing. this is what he’s been dreaming of, craving, for months. you are so perfect, so pretty and perky, how could he not have an insatiable need for you ?

the only light in the entire lab is the late afternoon sun leaking through the gaps in the blinds, leaving it dimly lit with the sun rays shining on miguel’s tanned complexion.

thick strands of his dark hair frame his perfectly chiseled face in an almost angelic halo. his soft, plump lips are parted ever so slightly, so that you can get a spine chilling view of his fangs.

loser miguel who’s never felt anything like this before. try as you might, you can’t fit his entire length in your mouth, and somehow, this is the closest to heaven he’s ever been.

he can’t count the amount of times he’s pumped his cock to the idea of this, you, one your knees pleasing him so prettily.

“mierda, just like that, just like that,” he croons, one hand sliding down to grip the back of our head.

you shine under his approval, the burn in your jaw suddenly disappearing as you push your mouth further down his cock, your nose is buried into the thick tufts of hair on the base of his cock.

you’re gagging and drooling all over him but right now you can only focus on miguel’s raspy breathing and muttered praise.

loser miguel who can only stand there watch as his cock falls victim to the talents of your mouth, his hips stuttering in a pathetic attempt to hold off from fucking your throat. miguel wants to make this last, have you looking up at him through adoring eyes forever- if he could take a picture he would.

prev < > next

a/n: smut clearly isn’t my forte but i tried 🙃

tag list: @lacedinweb22 @xxyaoi-nationxx @farrowroyale @mynamesstevenwithav @m4dyy @pinkismylife @kenz-ee @queerponcho @mcmiracles @nic-stars @ella-unenchanted04 @basedpear @rhythmloid @safixiovi @braverthanthenewworld @sad-author-san

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bi-writes · 2 months

Text

the lamb experiment

a body is given. and it cannot be taken back.

pairing: ghost (+ tf141) x curvy!fem!reader word count: 6.3k summary: the 141 are not known for their pliancy. in an effort to take back control, they send a lamb to slaughter.

cw: (18+) mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!tf141, military criticism, unhealthy power dynamics, graphic descriptions of violence + gore + torture + murder, themes of dubcon (but reader is consenting), piv, cumplay, fear play, size kink, praise kink, curvy!reader with hair long enough to hold

You don't think you've ever been the object of anyone's affections, not really. Although you are blessed with many gifts, even physically, you do not see yourself that way when you look in the mirror. How you feel inside betrays you when you look in one, and instead of staring too long, you always turn away.

This time, you stare. Because her ass looks nice, and her skin looks soft, and her face isn't disagreeable.

This reflection almost terrifies you. In front of you lies a woman you do not know.

She looks good. Your clothes are a size too snug, and it squeezes all the parts of you that normally you attempt to hide. Your thighs, the cinch of your waist, every curve you cover up with your uniform normally is on display, and instead of your hair in a standard bun, it lays free. You are anything but the soldier you always see, and just when you think about running, there is a knock at the bathroom door.

You open it, straightening out your outfit, and you look down shyly when you see the face on the other side of the door.

"It's...a little tight," you say, tugging at the waistband of your pants, but the woman tuts, crossing her arms over her chest as she steps back to look you up and down.

"It's as it should be," she responds, very matter-of-fact. "Now follow me. Need to debrief before your flight."

Her name is Laswell. You have not been graced with any other name, and you suspect it is because she wants you to call her Laswell and nothing else. She is blunt and intelligent, and there is no room for anything but the truth with her. If you answer her with a lie, she waits until she hears what she knows is expected.

When you sit, she spreads a few files out in front of you. Four manila folders, three packed with documents and pictures, one with documents only. You reach for one, eyeing the labeled name.

MacTavish.

You open it, and you're overwhelmed with the information. You see a man with pretty blue eyes and a military history that would put your old squadron to shame. Flicking through the pages, there are numerous confirmed kills, no small list of disarmed explosives, reports written by others and himself that even at a quick glance exude something impressive, utmost intelligence and extensive knowledge. You take note of his unique hairstyle; shaved sides of his head and tuffs of dark waves that run down the middle. You acknowledge how much you like when it gets a little long, falling in curls over his forehead.

The next file is equally as large. You flip it over, and you tilt your head to the side when you see a picture of him. He isn't posing, but his stature is one of confidence, and he's gorgeous. A strong facial structure, dark eyes. He keeps his hair short, and his skin is dark, and as your eyes roam lower, you notice the strong muscles of his forearms as he grips a rifle. His skill sheet is no less impressive than his sergeant counterpart. He has been in so many dangerous situations, and he comes out with nothing but scratches; and he seems to be deadlier with nothing but his hands than any small firearm could be.

Kyle. It's fitting.

You look away from his pretty face to their commanding officer. There is a picture of him with the other two sergeants, and you notice how he stands taller than them, but just as broad, and you think military fatigues suit him well. He wears his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and you can see the expanse of his strong arms and his large hands, and you take note of his carefully sculpted beard and the hat he wears. When you flip through the history, you are overwhelmed with the amount of ops he carries under his belt. This man is a war machine. You suspect there is a number on his head somewhere, in some distant country, and it makes you shift in your seat when you realize this isn't someone easy to kill.

He does the killing. And that's all that matters to the Crown.

John. That is the one that has to matter most.

"He's the one who calls the shots." Laswell's voice cuts through your heavy thoughts. She takes the last folder and opens it for you, and immediately you notice the lack of photos here. "But this is the glue."

Ghost. That is the name that sits on the official documents, but there is a dirty sticky note pasted next to it with Laswell's chicken scratch.

Simon Riley.

"His name is redacted," she says simply. "And so is his face."

"He has no face?" You ask, and when you realize how you worded it, you think it a stupid sentence, but Laswell only stares.

"Not one that matters," she responds. You look back down at the documents. He is tall, and you observe that he's most skilled with a sniper rifle, although he doesn't lack confidence or efficacy in any other form of combat. Hand-to-hand, smaller firearms, rifles, he uses them all with a terrifying accuracy, and you pull the papers closer to you as you read more.

"The glue," you murmur, not quite understanding. "And what am I supposed to be?"

"The solvent. The hammer. Whatever the fuck I need you to be."

The thing that breaks it apart. The thing that tears. The thing that makes them bleed.

And so you lie. It is what you do, what you are taught. Laswell is good at it, and you are a fish to water with it. You lie until it comes as easy as breathing, you learn to pretend until it is all you know, and when you create your second life, it is easy because it is the only one Laswell tells you to know.

You are a soldier, and you do as you're told. When your orders are to forget who you were and become something else, you do it, because that is how it works. And you know what you are in Laswell's eyes--you are a weapon, and you gave your body to the state, and she can do what she pleases with it.

And you know, really, what she expects you to do.

It isn't spoken of. She never says it out loud. But when you study the files she gives you, you notice there are more details that what is necessary. You learn more about them, in ways that feel intimate, that feel secret.

That John's favorite color is red. That MacTavish likes a traditional meal. That Kyle has a sweet tooth and likes jazz. That Ghost downs two fingers of Kentucky bourbon to unwind.

They are things to help make them agreeable, you think, but agreeable in what way is up to you.

But red looks good in lace. You've been told the stomach is the way to the heart. Chocolate is supposed to be an aphrodisiac. And alcohol is the perfect enabler--and armed with this information, you will divide and conquer.

Break and tear apart. Separate. Sever the bond. That is your mission, that is what you've been told to do, and you will do it because that is what a good soldier does, and this is all you are.

Laswell's pet. Her pretty little soldier. The hammer to her nail, the bone for her dogs, the string that will mend the ones snapped by her own puppets.

She wants control, and she isn't stupid, and neither are you. When you look in the mirror again, you understand why she picked you. No matter how far her men stray, they cannot change what they are at their core.

Men.

And men are fickle.

You suspect, you hope, even these ones are. They are not gentle, and Laswell makes sure that you learn well why it is they need supervision. She shows you pictures, videos, eyewitness statements of their spiral into violence.

It's not that they weren't war criminals before, but they were her war criminals. Unsanctioned ops, sure, but they toed a line that was drawn for them. But then the red tape became too much, even if there wasn't very much of it for them.

They began to ignore orders. When they were told to stay put, a sergeant would slip off, and under the guise of protecting them, all four would end up in a firefight. And when this became a frequent excuse, they stopped coming up with them. They simply showed up in manila folders like the ones you held, enemy casualties sometimes in the hundreds, and they did not appear even when required.

Debriefing? Their connection was bad. A hearing in front of their superiors? They're on a mark, and they cannot move. And then it was just silence. The occasional response to real crisis, and then back underground, until all Laswell could get from them were limbs taken off the enemies they weren't allowed to kill just yet.

They knew how to disappear. They knew how to hide. They knew how to stay put, come back up overground, and then scurry back underneath where no one would find them.

But that wouldn't do. Not for the CIA, not for SAS, not for either of their governments who soon realized they had let loose a group of soldiers-turned-mercenaries who hold valuable secrets that could put their politicians at the forefront of Congressional hearings, NATO violations, and then in the right mess of breaking off relations with a numerous amount of countries they already held fragile relationships with.

The 141 is a liability. They need to be the ones pulling the reigns again, no matter the cost--and they tell Laswell to do it, and to spare no expense and to pull back the curtain on what she believes might be crossing even the lines she has drawn before, to go beyond it.

She draws this line around you. A circle, a fence, wrapping around you as she molds you into what she needs you to be. She is honest. Not always kind, but honest, and because she is, you want to succeed.

Finally, you can be of use. Finally, there is something that will give you purpose. Even if it hurts, even if it kills you, you want to give her what she needs, because it isn't fair.

You have already given them everything, and you have nothing to show for it. So you paint your face, and you zip up the tight pants, you lie and you learn and you listen, and when she tells you that they will not be gentle, all you reply is, "I won't be either."

Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.

You are wearing red when John sees you for the first time. It is in your hair, a bright red scarf that keeps it out of your face, and you know he looks right at you and not through you when your eyes meet.

When he eyes the open door of your room later that evening, you pretend not to notice his gaze when he drinks in the sight of you in red lingerie.

It is the first morning you are with them that Johnny wakes to the smell of something in the rec room. You stand there, at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a warm pot, and when he steps in, you turn to see him, and you smile. You exchange no words, but when you hold a tasting spoon out to him with a soft potato and a spoonful of wonderful broth, he can't help the way he closes his eyes. There's a beautiful woman cooking stovies in the rec room, and when he opens his eyes, you are looking right back at him.

And then it's the music that plays in the evening that catches Kyle's attention. They are trailing back to their rooms after drills, and he catches sight of you in your room, and he can hear Ella Fitzgerald, and when you look over your shoulder, he is there, and he doesn't shy away.

And then--fuck--it is so easy.

Wherever you go, they follow. Unconsciously, you suspect, but they do, and you live the lie, and it feels fucking euphoric. You know you've won when you run your knuckles down John's cheek for the first time, and he keens, nuzzling the side of his face into your hand and chasing after your touch.

They are animals. You watch them when you join them on ops, rifle in front of you as you follow them, and you keep a neutral face as you observe them wreak havoc. They kill and they maim, and they sleep like the dead at night, as if the heinous ways they kill do not bother them at all. John points, and Kyle pulls the trigger. John nods his head, and Johnny detonates, nothing but a dull reflection in those blue eyes. John clicks his teeth, and Ghost sweeps.

He sweeps, and he kills, and if it wasn't so fucking terrifying, you would have admired the way he did it. The elegance that he took on an entire room of moving targets, how he never let himself be pinned down in one spot. Whenever someone gets too close, he goes hand-to-hand, and it's fucking brutal the way he finishes them off. He keeps throwing knives in his boot, and they sink into eye sockets as if running through tender meat. He puts blades through their mouths and doesn't let them go until the light leaves their eyes.

You hate that it makes you warm. That there is something deep in your belly, that twists there, that tells you that you like it. When he turns around and meets your eyes, wringing the blade out of someone's neck and letting them drop on the floor at your feet, you don't flinch. You simply kick them to the side and step over them, and Ghost watches as you lick over your teeth as you pass by him.

Insatiable. Fucking hungry. He eyes the sway of your hips, and when he finds his next target, he uses his hands again just because he needs to feel flesh under his gloved hands, needs to tear it apart. And when he feels you watching him again, he grunts as he stands to his full height. He's a fucking bear, and you leave him with a hint of a smile before you turn the corner.

You are not sure if you are pretending that day.

They ravage, and then they go back to their beds, and they wash the blood from their clothes with ease--and the worst part of it all is that you do it, too. You come out of the same places that they do, and your face is splattered with their targets. Your jeans have flecks of brain matter, your hands are dirty with someone's singed flesh. When you finally stand in the light back at their base, all John does is sit you in front of the bathroom mirror and wipe at your face with a warm towel.

He tells you how good you've done. How special you are. How he has never seen a woman keep up with them so easily, fit into their pack like she was meant to be.

He says that you belong, but he doesn't say to who. You wonder, for a second, if he means that you belong to them all.

When you report back to Laswell, you tell her this. What you don't tell her is what you've had to do to gain this status. You don't tell her about the blood you spill. You don't tell her about the bodies you see or the men that lose their faces or how worked up the boys get after an op and how it takes them hours between your legs to lose the adrenaline.

You don't tell her this because this is for you. It's all for you.

They tell you things you aren't supposed to know. When you're in their beds, they talk, and you listen. Kyle tells you about the man they are keeping in the cellar. That he's been there for 29 days, and he hasn't said a word, but that Ghost will be next to speak to him, and he will talk then.

Kyle tells you that it is a mercy that Ghost hasn't visited him yet, but they are done playing nice. When he says this, you have the image of Ghost standing over a man who pulled a gun on you in your head, and you remember watching him with a sickening relief as he pressed his thumbs into the man's eye sockets and pushed they were nothing but squished matter. You squeeze your legs together; and this time, you don't feel bad about it.

Johnny begs for you, his bonnie lass, to keep close to him on the next op because you strayed too far today. He fucks you to make you say yes, his lips on your ear as he tells you to promise him that you'll do as he says, and that if you promise, he'll let you come. So you promise, and he fucks you boneless, and the next day, you are glued to his hip when you raid a foreign embassy for nothing but answers.

You know they know. They don't say it out loud, but you know that they all know where you go at night. One night, you are kneeling under John's desk, kissing the pearly tip of him before taking him down your throat for what feels like hours. The next, you are letting Kyle bend you over his desk, rattling it against the wall as he tells you how pretty you are. And in the morning, you are pressed against the shower wall, Johnny holding your wide hips in his hands as he fucks into you, begging you, bonnie, please--give it to me, tha's it, right there, ye can do it, good girl--

Good girl. That's what you are. You're a good girl, and you do as you're told. You smile, and you keen, and you give them big, soft eyes, and you let them have the illusion of control. Maybe they think they're pressuring you. Maybe they think they scare you. Maybe they think this is why you get on your knees for them or let them pool your pants at your ankles or allow them to have you whenever they want, but the reality is that you want it, and you need it, and this is working.

They don't even realize you've fucked them into submission because they're too busy showing off.

A domino effect. You expect them all to fall once you have the captain, but there is one chess piece that does not move willingly.

Ghost.

He is an unmovable object. He stands still and rigid, and he is a statue that refuses to be pushed or pulled in any direction but one he deems. Even in the middle of the nights, when you notice he is awake, he never joins you when you drink his favorite bourbon outside. He doesn't ask for a cigarette when you smoke one, even though you never actually take a puff of it. He passes by you, and he doesn't look at you, and you are invisible.

You want to be content with what you've accomplished, but it isn't enough.

This is the glue. He is the glue, and without him, everything falls apart, and you cannot fail. There isn't room for it. And maybe you feel bad for preying on the parts of Ghost that you think he prefers to keep hidden, but you need to catch him before he gets too far away.

A kitchen accident. A knife that plunges too deep, that draws blood and makes you cry. You are in the bathroom, tears coming down your face, blood in the sink, and your hands are shaking as you try and patch yourself up. You are loud enough to draw the attention of the lieutenant whose door is only just across the hall, and when he sees you there, he doesn't leave you.

One moment there is nothing, and the next, he is behind you, a pervasive warmth at your back, and you whimper when a gloved hand wraps around your injured hand. Wordlessly, he turns the faucet on, running your hand under the water, and you hiccup, looking away and breathing deeply.

He wraps your hand in his room. You sit on his bed, and he works to cover the wound, and you know he has done this before. Soothed another's tears, quieted soft cries, covered up cuts and bruises and things that will scar.

He kneels in front of you, and when he stands to his full height, you tip your head back to look up at him. You think you will meet a soft gaze, but he glares, and he seems angry. When you open your mouth to speak, he tsks, and your tip trembles as you close it.

"Y'can fool the others," he says lowly, finally. "But not me."

You frown, confused. When you sniffle, he snarls.

"I know why y'r here," he murmurs. "Isn't the first time Laswell has sent one of her little...toys."

You clench your jaw. For a moment, something envious rattles you. You aren't like anyone else. You are certain no one has accomplished what you have, that no one has gotten this close to rock the fucking boat or pet the beast. He doesn't get to demean the progress you've made like this, even if he's figured you out, because you aren't going anywhere.

Not until you get everything you need.

"Excuse me?"

"Y'r a spy. You're CIA's whore, and I don't like y'here, puttin' y'r bloody nose where it don't belong," he kneels, his voice low and gruff, and he reaches over and grips your chin hard. "Y'may have fooled them. In their fuckin' beds...in their heads--" He draws you closer, and you swallow. "But y'r not in mine."

You meet his eyes. They are dark, and they are meant to scare you, but the feeling that runs through you isn't one that terrifies you. He is a magnet--and you can feel the field of his presence, and it has you. This is supposed to be your show. They are men, and they are stupid, and you hate them, and Ghost should be eating out of the palm of your fucking manicured hand, but there he is, spitting against his mask, and it is you that aches to see what is underneath the cotton.

"So, little lamb..." Ghost rumbles, and it is with his entire chest that he speaks. "Wot is it you're here to do, eh?"

You shake your head, "N-Nothing. She...all she told me was that this was a joint operation...CIA and SAS--"

"Y'r on the piss, I know that," he hisses, clicking his teeth. "Joint operation," he laughs, but it is without humor. "Is that we're calling this now? Being barracks bunny for the 141?"

"Fuck you," you snap, shoving his hand off. "You're a fucking bastard, and if you think--"

"If I think wot, eh?" He stands, and you choke as he grips you by your throat, lifting you off of his bed and forcing you against the wall. You grip his wrist, but it is useless, because he's a brute, and you are nothing to him. He holds you there on your toes, and you grip him tighter, but he doesn't budge. Even digging your nails into him doesn't make him flinch. If anything, he seems amused. "Wot kind of trainin' she make y'do, eh? Did ya have to practice? Who'd y'shag to get y'r stripes?"

"Eat shit," you spit, and he snickers. There is fire in your eyes, venom on your tongue, you are a fighter, and when the world is so quiet, fighting feels good, and he knows this feeling well. He understands what it means to be nothing and then something, what it means to worthless and then useful in the eyes of government and government alone.

Because you are useful, but only to Laswell, and only as this, whatever this is. Whatever you are. Pet, prize, toy--it doesn't matter what the name is today, but it will stick tomorrow, and you wonder, sickeningly, if that is your destiny.

To be unknown. To be used. To be the property of what you do not know. To be given, to be taken, to not know and to be content with not knowing.

To accept it because it is still better than whatever you were before.

He sees this. He looks into your eyes, he breathes in, and he hums, and when his grip loosens just enough, you put your toes on the ground, and you lean in, and there you are.

One and the same. Bitten, chewed, spit out, two people who are products of their suffering and the culmination of their sheer fucking will to live, even if the living is miserable.

Maybe that is what it is. Maybe it's what's broken that will put you together. Ghost is the glue, you are the solvent, and you will make it so.

Because I can't fail, I can't do it, I won't go back, I can't go back--

"I'm here for me," you whisper. "I'm here for me, and no one else--" You gasp, and it isn't a lie, not really. You are here for you, this is for you, even if it is at the downfall of someone else. If you need to step on necks to get ahead, you will.

Ghost is the last piece. The last one you need to move. He is stuck, but now you know what it is you need to do, you know how to set the game into motion.

"Ghost," you breathe, and it's soft, it's quiet. You meet his eyes, and you lean close, and he feels your breath on the front of his mask. "It's not what you think."

"You're a lamb."

"I don't wanna be a lamb."

"It doesn't matter what y'want, y'are a lamb," he growls, and you whine, and he hums, and you can see the crinkle of his eyes, and you know he must be smiling. "Tha's wot y'are, and y'can't run away from tha'."

You blink, and he stares, and there is understanding. You are prey, and you belong, but you don't know where. But then you remember you are a soldier, and it isn't your job to know. Your job is to lie still and let them have you.

And to not tell my handler how much I like it.

"It's what they made me," you whisper, and when there are tears in the corner of your eyes, he is gentle. He smooths his hand down your throat, rubbing a thumb over your trembling lip, and you know that he understands you. "It's not what I wanted."

"It's never what we want," he murmurs. "Never."

You hold your breath when he cups your face with a big gloved hand. Dark eyes on soft ones, and you wonder what it would be like to have him. He doesn't keen the way John does, doesn't kneel the way Johnny kneels, doesn't follow and listen without objection the way that Kyle does. No, he's a brick wall, and you need to be what knocks him over. You need to shake the foundation, split it in two.

You need to sever the fucking bond and do your fucking job.

"So when can I have what I want?" You ask him softly. "When...when is it my turn?"

He tilts his head to the side, curious, and you slide your hands up his forearms, over the muscle of his biceps. He is everything you cannot have.

And he is everything that you suddenly realize you want.

Forbidden. Unrelenting. The oxygen to a raging fire. He isn't the glue, he's the catalyst to whatever the fuck you bring to the experiment, and even though you know this will be disaster, you want it. You want it so badly.

Destruction tastes so good. Control is victory. Sex is power, and you want him, you want this, you want him to have you, to own you, to make you see what he sees, because it will be familiar because you are the same.

"Y'r a soldier," he says lowly. "Not about what we want. 's about what they want."

"Fuck what they want," you groan, looking away, and then a few tears slip down your face. "Fuck what they do with us. If I die for them, they only tick some fucking statistic. It means nothing. So why can't I do what I want with the time I get before...before I'm just...before I'm nothing again?"

And there it is. The mirror you hold up. The common ground. The level playing field. The two paths that cross, this is it, I have it, I have it, I fucking have it, I have him, he's mine--

He kisses you. You don't get to see his face, but his lips are there, a precious amount of skin that you're blessed with seeing until your eyes are closing.

His bed is warm. He fills it well, the breadth of him almost too much for its size, but it doesn't matter because he fucks so well. He eats your cunt because he's hungry, your thighs on his shoulders shaking as he laps at your wet folds.

He does this different. John is soft and slow, Kyle takes his time, and Johnny is always eager and sloppy. But Ghost watches. He slides his tongue in soft motions, watching, and when your thighs twitch and shake, he does the motion again. He flattens his tongue and drags it, and when you whine and arch your back, he revels in the way you move. He drinks what you spill, he fucks you with his tongue, and this is different because this isn't just attraction.

There is something about him. Something underneath the layers he covers himself with, under the mask, something that you can see that others cannot even though he doesn't take those layers off.

You know this is true when he's inside of you. His mask hasn't come off, but his mouth is on your ear, and he groans, and he talks, and you feel like he spoils you this way. Ghost never talks. You wonder often if maybe he has a limited amount of words, and he never says more than he has to lest he runs out of them. His eyes speak, and it's more than enough, but now, he talks, and it is a gift, and now you know.

He cradles your head as he fucks you, and he kisses you until you can't breathe, and then when he talks, it takes everything in you not to beg for more.

"Such a nice cunt...'s so nice..."

"Fuck--y'feel me, luv? Right there--" And he presses his palm down on your stomach, and you cry when he grabs your face and forces you to look at him, because he's cruel and he's mean, but his cock feels so good--

And you think it can't get better, and you think he can't go any deeper, and then your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and he's leaning over you, and you think you're forgetting your name.

You forget yourself. You forget the reason you're here. It's so hard to think when you're not yourself, when your mind is in the stars, when everything feels far away and so close all at the same time. There is a place for him inside of you now, and you know that even though he will ruin you, even though he already has, you will never be rid of him.

You've severed the bond. You've made your own.

When he kisses you again, and when he grinds his hips down so nice that your clit aches, you know suddenly what it feels like to have real control. The feeling that Laswell chases, the feeling she wants so fucking badly that she's made your body a weapon, your cunt a tool, your brain the hivemind that will make her every wish come true, you understand now.

You will make the sky blue, the birds sing, but you did not realize the power you held until you had Simon "Ghost" Riley buried so deep in you, that you aren't sure you're even really here anymore.

You gnaw on his arm, your tongue tracing the tattoos there. You taste sweat, and you swallow it, and you go numb thinking about having more of him inside of you. You want to bite and eat and take as much of him that he will let you--no.

You will bite and eat and take as much of him that you want, because he's yours, and you get whatever you want.

Your fingers grasp the cotton of his mask, and your grip is enough to pull his lips off of you, and when your eyes meet, the gaze is different. He's desperate. For once, there is something disorderly there, and he pants, and he wants something from you, and finally you have something to give him.

You fuck it out of him. You lay him on his back and let him look at you, and you fuck him because it feels good, because you want it, too, because it's all that matters. You cry into his mouth, sob, "please--! please, please, please--"

And he tugs on your hair in response, guiding your hips as he loses his composure, "'ve got you...y'r mine...'s olright, yeah--nggghhh, fuck, luv, th's it..."

You do want it. You do need it. You need them, but you want Ghost the most, because he is the piece that does not move. He is not willing to do anything except for the sake of his pack. Ghost is impenetrable, even your pretty cunt isn't enough to change his mind, but that isn't what this is.

This is mercy. Ghost, he is the product of all of his misery. You, you are the result of every man to ever betray you, the outcome of your unwavering desire for revenge. You are the same, somehow, and he knows this, and that is why can't help himself. That is why Ghost is underneath you, that is why he bares his mouth to you and lets you lick into it and allows you to taste the forbidden fruit.

Because he thinks you are him, and he thinks you think so, too, and all he's ever wanted in his life is just for someone to see him the way he saw himself.

When he comes, he paints your cunt and fills you, and you collapse, your body on fire as you come down from a high that takes your breath away. His big hands cradle you against his chest, and you don't move, too afraid to let go, and he kisses your face when you whimper. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and when he pulls out, you gather it up on your fingers and suck. He groans, and he kisses you, and then he sinks back to his knees because he doesn't hear the ringing in his ears when his mouth is on your pretty pussy.

You're just a lamb, it's all you are. Handpicked by Laswell to head into the lion's den, a scarred animal that has no one to protect her, straight to slaughter.

He knows what it feels like. He knows what it feels like to be used and forgotten, to have nowhere to go, to be backed into a corner with no way out, and he pities you.

Ghost pities you because there is nothing behind your eyes except fear. But it's a lie. You're so good at it now. It's a lie, and you tell it so well, and you're warm inside. Not from taking the last moving piece, but from the satisfaction of knowing you have done what others cannot. What others never could.

It's late when you finally settle beside him. He leaves you when you ask for something to eat. You watch him slip clothes on haphazardly and leave, the door swinging shut behind him as he shuffles to get what you need.

To provide. To protect. To shield. Ghost is good at those things, you knew he would be. A man does not nurse a brother back to health without it, does not protect his mother and defy his father without being good at being a dog.

He's a good guard dog. And when he goes, and the door is closed, you smile because the dog is mine, all fucking mine--

You reach for your phone, and you pull up the only contact in it. You type a simple message, and then you send it, and for good measure, you shut the device off, tossing it into the pile of your discarded clothes.

>> we have joy.

You are good at pretending. You can tell a lie without blinking. You have been taught to be this thing, and you do it well, because you are a soldier, and this is your mission, and you cannot fail, and you didn't fail.

When you see Laswell again, many weeks later, she is not surprised to see you covering up with long sleeves and keeping your hair down. One tug on the collar of your shirt, and she gets glimpses of the love bites that have marked bruises all across your skin. She lets you go, tells you to sit, and she smirks.

You smile back this time.

Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.

"Good girl," she takes out another manila folder, but it's different this time. When you open it, you have schedules of upcoming ops, intel the boys are working, evidence of their reckless abandonment of order in favor of the chaotic success of getting the job done. You have seen this first hand, you know what they do and how they do it. But now there is another factor, another subject, right in the middle of it all. It is you.

Laswell takes a seat, spreading out the papers, and you meet her eyes. This time it's different. This is the truth, and you want to feel bad for your betrayal, but you don't. The fact of the matter is that you and Laswell, together in this room, have more power at your feet than you know what to do with.

A lamb to slaughter, and yet you sleep with the wolves.

"Alright," she says. "Now let's get to fucking work."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon #dark!soap

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evilminji · 4 months

Text

You know what would be both Cool(tm) AND Pants Shittingly Terrifying? Eldritch Space Whale Danny!

Except NOT! Because he's not a whale! Just snoozing and Giganto-Fuck-Off HUGE!

Imagine it! Danny. Joint Custody Child of The Ancients Of Time And Space. Space is SALTY AF because their BITCH OF AN EX has used his FUCKING POWERS, AGAIN, to CHEAT. Clockwork how DARE YOU.

You knew he'd be our Son in advance!

YOU SNUCK IN AND STARTING BONDING WITH OUR CHILD BEHIND MY BACK!

YOU [REDACTED]!

Danny? Sitting off to the Side as a Sentient Everything and Nothing made of galaxies and starlight, howls expletives at their Ex, who is being... REALLY snippy back? WOW, Clockwork. I mean, JESUS, man. Danny's from "oh bless their heart" Nowhere, Midwest. And even HE thinks that last one was both backhanded and cold af.

......he should take notes. *continues to eat his popcorn*

Anyway! APPARENTLY, Space Parent has taken him in the divorce. With much huffing. Tucked under their arm Like The Football(tm). And honestly? This is kinda hilarious, so he's cool with it. Byyyyyy~ Clock Dad! See you on weekends~☆!

*Exasperated Time Noises*

It's pretty cool! He learns a lot. Learns he's probably? Gonna be SOME variation of Space Ghost. Might even take over Space's... well, EVERYTHING, should the unforeseeable occur. So obviously, gonna have to learn The Family Business, as it were!

Which?

UNSPEAKABLY HYPED, YES PLEASE.

SPACE AND STAR STUFF! HECK YEAH!

Unfortunately? Still a Halfa. Bleh, squishy need to eat and sleep. Why they get in the way of Hyperfixation? Why no more space dust? Nooooo, don't drag him away from the controls! He can still learn! Sleep is for quitters! Cowards! *whining in Give Me Back My Blorbos, You Monsters*

But, no. He apparently has to "take care of his body" and "not burn out". Eat "real food". A protein bar counts! He probably ate one of those! Give him back his STARS! He doesn't CARE if he sounds like a toddler! That's DIRECT ACCESS TO THE SECRETS OF SPACE ITSELF! He'll BITE, so HELP HIM-! *Is scruffed like a cranky infant being carried off to beddy bye*

Injustice! D:<

But, none the less, body's require sleep. He shovles down his food, washes up, and flops down in his bed. In the nice lil cozy "Safe For My Half Apprentice Who Is Also My Adopted Son" corner. He passes out in that corner. Starts to float, as he has done countless times before, when agitated before bed. Floats OUT of that corner.

That Safe Little Corner.

IN THE CENTER, THE BEATING HEART OF SPACE.

You know... the place ALL OF SPACE connects too. Where Universe Form and Die. The Grand Recycler. Dust to Dust, from the ashes of old, to the creation of new. Where PORTALS are randomly assigned. So that the Omniversal Ectoplasmic Levels may always be balanced at near to perfect levels, allowing free flow of Souls through the various Reincarnation cycles.

Space, of course, doesn't MANAGE the Ectoplasm itself. Nor the Souls! Different Ancient for THAT, but they DO manage the PORTALS. We live in a SYSTEM after all. Everyone has their "departments" as it were. So really, it's quiet... Danny? Honey? Awful quiet back there! You, uh, fallen asleep, Starlight?

*empty room*

(O.O)

*inhale* AAAAAAAAAAA-!!!!!!!

Meanwhile! He be Snoozin'! And Ghostin'! Ghost Snoozin'! Is extra comfy, cause he weightless and got not booooones~☆!

But! He? Is not a child anymore! Has learned to... for lack of a better term, Let Go. To finally ACCEPT his Death. His inhumanity. His Amortality. Death no longer holds him, can no longer let him go. He is... not immortal. He is disowned, by his own doing and his own choice, at his timeless moment of Ending.

When Life let go of his hand and Death kindly offered theirs, he did not take it.

And that's okay.

It took awhile. Talking to older ghosts. Most vague and vast, near formless. Because it's... it's scary. And it's all you know. All, really, you've EVER known. Inherent to your identity, even after you leave that part you behind.

You are "human". "Martian" or "Xy'xeruian", something else, and you never question it. Even when you've left behind everything ELSE. Your name, your eyes, your history and skin. Yet you fly around and pretend. Still alive, still human.

But is that YOU?

Or just the form you found your start in?

And like? It's okay if it IS! Sometimes, yeah, you ARE. You look down deep and find a "don't know what you were expecting, buddy" sign stapled to a mirror. But more often? It's that last hurdle. The final step in Letting Go.

Everyone mourns at their own pace.

And they are the ghosts of who they were.

It helped. Mourning for the kid he was. Who was fourteen and wanted to be an astronaut. Who died and will never have a grave. The longer he exsists, for he can't technically be called Alive, the more painfully young that child seems.

It was okay.

To cry for Danny Fenton.

Then? To let him go. Let his memory, be memory. And his Past be the grave that child rests in. Loved dearly and remembered, but no longer binding his soul.

He doesn't have to wear that face anymore.

No tributes to the Dead.

He got? Kinda... BIG. Like REALLY big. Spiraling, serpentine, cracking ice, and burning galaxies. Like a fourth dimensional dragon, of ice and stars, somehow forcing its way into a three dimensional space. Atop it all, between two vast, impossible horns? Made of glacial ice coating the warping hearts of black holes, who's shape themselves seem to shift in unknowable ways? There burns, like comet trails, with super novas, compressed to decorative gems beneath glittering morning frost, a Terrible Crown.

He? Thinks? He MIGHT have wings.

He can't tell.

Because APPARENTLY he's a fuckin tesseract! Oh, no, sorry. He might me a Zone DAMNED PENTERACT!!! Is THIS what he gets for hanging out with Clockwork all the time? He just liked the quiet! Now his "true form" is PHYSICALLY PAINFUL for most people to look at!

Clock Dad WHAT THE HELL?!

(You see, now, why Space broke up with him? An ASSHOLE)

So! Danny stays, usually at least, in his "Hi, yes, I am Normal Human Man" Ghost form. But NOW? Now it PINCHS. Because it's TOO SMALL. But hey, that's fine! It's not like he has an ingrained habit of transforming when super tired and stressed! To float sleep for Maximum Restfulness(tm).

Ha ha!

Why does that feel like foreshadowing?

BECAUSE IT IS!

Danny? Snoozing! Space? Has LOST THE BABY! Portals? Have done a Jood Gob in Portalling, something they are vaguely sure they are supposed to be doing! Yay them! They have no brain cells but still enjoy helping! They moved a thing! That's helpful right? Yay! Probably!

And on DC's planet Earth?

They? Just choked on their fuckin coffee. One moment? La dee daa~ oooh~ look! Stars! Deep space! Oh, hiiii~ Watchtower! The NEXT? *every alarm in the building starts LOSING ITS SHIT* Giant World OBLITERATING SHAPE completely takes up the screen.

From near PLUTO.

There are NO WORDS TO DISCRIBE HOW FUCK OFF BIG THIS THING IS, MR. PRESIDENT. It will eat our nukes and LAUGH. Call! EVERYBODY!!!

Obviously? Superman. I mean really, OF COURSE Superman. Frankly, all the Supers. Because we would like to KEEP having a planet, thanks. Only? The more reports that come in? The more everyone is getting "oh fuck. This is a Workd Eater" vibes.

A massive, massive, Sleeping Titan of a Planet Destroying World Eater.

That MIGHT BE MAGIC.

*highly stressed Everyone noises*

And WORSE? Superman? Can't TOUCH it! Oh sure, at FIRST he could! But then he apparently pushed too hard in just one spot! And it felt POKED AT. So now, after flicking superman HALFWAY BACK TO EARTH to make him stop? No one can physically touch it!

But! There is hope!

Because? The creature is GREEN. Bright, luminous, Lantern Green! And Earth's Lanterns have already sent for back up. Combined? The were able to move a... hand? Paw? Something. But! With the combine forces of several nearby sectors of Lanterns? They promise the power to either relocate the creature or at least hold it in orbit until FURTHER forces can be deployed!

They refuse to harm the creature until it proves actively hostile, as it could have been seeking a place to nap and chosen one inconvenient to established planetary life. Frankly? Earth doesn't CARE where you relocate the giant Eldritch Space Dragon. Just NOT IN OUR BACKYARD, PLEASE.

....YES WE ARE SURE! We don't CARE if the scientific community of our planet is begging you to set up an area for them to place an "observation satellite"! No giant Eldritch Space Dragons in our solar system! It might WAKE UP!

Naturally, about half way THROUGH this Highly Delicate Operation?

Danny Wakes Up.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing

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xxsabitoxx · 8 months

Text

Confession | Kinktober

Priest Geto Suguru x AFAB Reader

Warnings: religion, sacrilege, fucking a priest, blow jobs, finger fucking, explicit language, squirting, pet names, mild gaslighting

A/N: Day three is here! This one may be offensive to anyone who is religious so please proceed with caution.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

“Tell me, what have you come here for?” You squirmed a bit against the uncomfortable wooden chair. The box itself was pretty dim, only a small, uncovered lightbulb was illuminating the musty space. Through a mesh window on your left, the man spoke with a gentle tone. “I’ve come to confess my sins to you, father.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart, hands twisting tightly together as you mentally prepare yourself to receive his blessings. “Is that so? Please, my dear, tell me the things that haunt you.” Again, his tone was enough to make you shudder. Although it was gentle, it sparked something warm deep within your gut.

“You see, father, I’ve been a terribly naughty girl.” You swallowed, eyes shutting slowly as you tried to focus on your own words. “Go on.” This time it was a little less gentle, a little more gruff. It made warmth flood your cheeks, your eyes blinking open in surprise. You knew what the priest looked like, having attended some of his masses before. You knew he was a devastatingly attractive man, one around your age, and one unfortunately sworn to celibacy. That, however, didn’t make you want him any less. “Father Suguru, I’ve done things I shouldn’t have… to myself.” You spoke in a low tone, listening to him hum softly before asking “Like what? What have you done to yourself?” he took the bait, your heart hammering in your chest.

“I've touched myself, for my own pleasure.” You held your breath, vaguely certain that Father Suguru did too. After a moment of your confession hanging in the air, he spoke up. “Oh? How many times have you committed this sin?” his tone wasn’t as gentle now, rather it held a level of strain to it. You could hear him shifting in his seat on the other side of the small confessional wall. “Many times, father. I’ve lost count… which is why I’ve come to you. I want to be cleansed of my filthy acts, only your generous mercy can free my tainted soul.” You stroked his ego with each word, a devious grin plastering to your lips as you heard him clear his throat.

“Sweet girl, by his grace I can cleanse you. But for it to truly work, I’m going to need you to be a little more specific. Tell me how you committed this act, recall one of the moments for me.” you could have choked on the little saliva that was in your mouth, heat pooling deep down as you recalled the last time you masturbated. “Oh well, last night I…” You stopped when you heard him inhale sharply, your teeth sinking into the side of your cheek before you asked “Father Suguru, are you alright?” You tried to sound innocent, praying your smirk wasn’t evident in your tone. “I-I’m alright, I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t think you’d be so bold as to touch yourself the night before coming to see me. But by all means…” his tone was mildly condescending “... go on.”

Your thighs pressed together, alleviating the mild ache just a bit. You hadn’t even gotten into the details with him, yet you could feel your own arousal dampening your underwear. “Well, you see, I was laying in my bed all alone. I got bored, my mind wandered and I started to think about such sinful things, Father. They got the better of me and I found myself kicking off the sheets and using my hands to toy with my breasts.” You swallowed, one hand coming up to hold your breast as you spoke, as if needing a physical reminder for all the things you had done. “A-and that wasn’t enough. I felt so achy down there that I couldn’t help taking my panties off and spreading my legs…” You stopped again, letting it hang in the air as you tried to compose yourself.

Beyond the confessional wall, Father Suguru was gritting his teeth, trying desperately to even his breathing as his cock started to strain against his pants. He wasn’t supposed to know who was sitting beside him, but your voice was recognizable. What a sinful girl you were, always attending his masses in such short sundresses. Your smile was addicting, just like the way your hips swayed as you walked up to him to chat after the mass was done. The thoughts you made him think, the things you made him feel… you must have been a temptation sent by the devil. But god dammit, it turns out he was a weak, weak man. He couldn’t resist the temptation of you for much longer he feared. Especially now. “And then what did you do?” he breathed out, quieter.

“Father, is this really necessary?” you feigned innocence again, all the while you were slowly parting your legs. “Y-yes, go on. For your sins to be properly forgiven, you must tell me in detail.” You could hear his voice straining again, threatening to crack if you asked him something else. “Alright then…” you sighed, legs spreading enough for your hand to slip down and press on your aching cunt. You nearly whimpered, swallowing the noise by clearing your throat. “I used my hand to reach down there and play with myself.” You admitted with warm cheeks, the heat radiating from where your fingers were pressing was enough to make you squirm, the old wooden chair creaking as your hips swivelled. Father Suguru was losing the battle, hand shakily holding his fully erect length and squeezing it roughly in hopes of helping the ache.

“And?” he said again, as if working on autopilot. “I played with my pussy until I climaxed.” you stated boldly, using two fingers to press directly over your aching clit. You heard it loud and clear now, a deep rumbling groan from the priest beside you. “You know, such a sinful act needs more of a demonstration.” he spoke with a surprisingly level tone, letting go of his aching bulge to stand. You, on the other hand, had frozen in your seat. “A-a demonstration? Father Suguru, I just bore my soul to you by explaining verbally.” But you heard him click his tongue, “Nonsense girl, you’ve yet to bare your soul to me in any capacity.” You pushed your dress down, hand resting on your lap instead of your cunt as you straightened, Through the mesh window, you could see he was standing. “An intervention for a tainted soul like yours needs to happen face to face.”

You couldn’t help but gasp, watching through the window as he pushed the door to the confessional open and stepped out. A moment later you were standing, shamelessly pushing the door open to stand in front of the clearly worked up priest. “Father Suguru…” you started innocently yet again, as if you weren’t the direct cause of his raging erection. His jaw was clenched tight, his hair out of its uniform bun and instead styled in a half up half down look. It only made you want him more, especially with the way his tanned cheeks were flushed red. His pupils were swallowing the pretty brown of his eyes, his fingers were tugging at the tight collar of his black clergy top. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants before trailing back up.

“You need to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” You blinked, eyes roaming the empty pews of the cathedral’s main room. His voice was echoing, sending a shiver down your spine as stain glass windows looked back at you. “Father Suguru I…” you swallowed, truly not anticipating the priest to go as far as he was. You hadn’t gotten this far in your daydreams, because you always convinced yourself the holy man wouldn’t give into temptation. Yet, you were taking a step forward, dropping to your knees before him on the cold marble floor. You felt like you should be ashamed of what you were about to do, not only in front of an altar, but with a priest… a man who swore his life to this work.

“Don’t speak.” he commanded slowly, fixing you in place with a hard stare. Your lips closed again, any sort of reason leaving your mind as he started undoing his belt with one hand. The other came down to tuck some hair behind your ear, the motion far too gentle for the flames burning in his gaze. “Be a good girl for me, open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You obeyed, Suguru’s eyes watched with dilated pupils as your pretty lips parted and your tongue appeared. He breathed out through his nose, leaning over you a little as his belt came undone. You flinched as he spit, saliva landing perfectly in your mouth. “Swallow it, sweet girl.” you did, eyes locking with his as you swallowed the contents in your mouth.

“You must really want forgiveness.” He mused, quickly undoing the button and zipper of his black slacks. You nodded slowly, being mindful to remain quiet just as he had asked. “Surely, this is your ticket to salvation.” You held in a gasp as Suguru pulled out his cock. It was certainly bigger than you had anticipated, tanned and long with pretty veins running up the sides. “Father Suguru… please…” you rasped, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock. “Atta girl, beg for your forgiveness, you can speak now.” Your lips parted, eyes trained on the oozing tip as Suguru wrapped his hand around the middle of his shaft. He was taunting you with it, moving it side to side just to watch your eyes follow it wherever it went.

“F-father Suguru I… I want to be forgiven for my sins… I want you to cleanse my soul with your gracious hands… Father Suguru please…” you begged him, breathing turning laboured as you waited for him to stop the torture and give you what you wanted. Suguru held his breath for a moment, heart racing as each syllable fell from your lips. “Please… god please.” you were breathless, eyes watering as you looked up at him. “Yes…” Suguru whispered, squeezing his length tightly before taking a half step forward. He was in mouth’s reach now, making your hips wiggle as your lips parted for him. “Please…” you said again, shivering as his second whisper of yes reached your ears. You took initiative now that he gave you his permission.

You kept your hands folded nearly on your lap, only using your mouth to take him. With Suguru’s guidance, the weeping head of his cock was slipping between your lips. You inhaled through your nose, jaw struggling to open wide enough to accommodate him as you pushed your head further down his length. You were determined to take the priest’s entire cock, you wanted to hear his pretty moans bouncing off the walls of the cathedral. You locked eyes with him, swallowing around him just to see his eyes nearly roll back. You had to wonder if this was the first time he had ever gotten head, maybe this would be the first time he ever got to touch a woman. The idea of the priest above you being a virgin made your cunt clench around nothing.

Suguru’s lips were parted, letting go of his cock as you began to bob your head, hands obediently on your lap. “Such a good girl… such a good girl… so so good…” be babbled softly, hands coming to cup your cheeks and guide you as his cock slipped in and out of the wet cavern of your mouth. You got off on his praise, fingers itching to sink between your thighs and toy with your clit just as you had described to father Suguru moments earlier. “So good, you’re such a good girl for not touching yourself yet. Surely you’ll be forgiven…” he groaned, head tilting back as your nose brushed the dark mess of hair at the base of his cock before you pulled back again. Each pass over your tongue, each time your throat constricted around him, it was enough to send him into a blissful state of euphoria. It was enough to make him question his beliefs.

Your mouth was too preoccupied to ask, but you desperately wanted to touch his balls. They were sitting there, taunting you, growing shiny as your saliva cascaded down his shaft. You moved one hand, eyes still locked on his neck and chin since he was tilting his head back, to test the waters. Suguru didn’t seem to notice as your fingers danced up his thigh, tongue still lavashing him as your head moved back and forth in a steady rhythm. You hesitated for only a moment before gingerly cupping him, watching as his head shot forward to look down at you with a shocked expression. They were warm and heavy with his cum, tightening as you massaged them between your fingers. “Oh… good girl…” he said again, voice a little more broken than before as he uttered the same praise for you.

The repetitiveness of it wasn’t an issue for you, if anything it got you going more. Every time he uttered the phrase, you felt yourself grow wetter, you were certain your panties were absolutely destroyed at this point. “I-I’m going to cum if you keep doing that… is that what you want, sweet girl?” he cooed, regaining a little composure as he spoke to you. You hummed, sending vibrations straight through him and eliciting a moan from his lips. “You want my cum, don’t you sweet girl. You want me to shoot my load right down your throat, right?” you hummed again, moaning around his twitching length as you squeezed his balls a little harder. Suguru cursed, the sound coming from the priest were enough to have your nipples bubbling, brushing uncomfortably against the material of your bra. “Fuck…fuck…” he panted, cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink as his fingers buried in your hair, no longer gentle as he rutted his hips into your mouth.

You gagged, fully unprepared for the priest to take over the way he had, the sound echoing and only fueling the fire in his gut. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth as he pleased, fingers fisting in your hair just as your free hand fisted in the material of your sundress. You inhaled through your nose, lightheaded as the priest abused your throat to his liking. “Gonna… fuck gonna cum… oh yes, fuck… gonna cum down that pretty throat.” you whined, eyes nearly shutting before he commanded you to keep them open. “Look at me, the only way you can be forgiven is if you look at me, sweet-ah-girl.” He gritted his teeth, the pleasure ebbing up the back of his spine was going to make his knees week. Dutifully, you kept your eyes on him, watching his jaw go slack before he finally came.

You flinched, throat constricting at the extra intrusion but relaxing a moment later. You swallowed, mildly disappointed he had waited until he was nearly down your throat to cum. You didn’t get to taste much, not until he drew his hips back and the salty taste dragged over your tongue. Suguru was panting, watching you reach up to rub your aching jaw as he tried to even his breathing. “You’re on the road to forgiveness, sweet girl. But I don’t quite think you’re there yet.” You looked at him with mild hurt, you had thought you had done so good. “Be a doll and strip for me… sit on the pew and demonstrate your sins from last night.” the priest was tucking his now softened cock away, trying to act as if he weren’t flustered in the slightest. “Father Suguru…” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from his use.

“Yes? I believe I made myself clear.” he watched as you stood to your full height again, pulling your sundress off with no shame. You held his gaze as you pulled your ruined panties down, making sure he could see how destroyed they were before dropping them on the cold marble and walking down the few steps to the first row of pews. “I would much rather instruct you, I think it only makes sense for your pure hands to cleanse me of my sins in the deepest way.” You sat on the cold, polished wood, looking up at him where he stood on the elevated stage. He seemed to ponder your implications, huffing out a laugh before responding. “I guess that makes the most sense, you’re quite a smart, sweet girl.” You smiled at him, spreading your legs and moving to plant your feet on the pew. You were fully spread, the position mildly uncomfortable but you couldn’t really think past that point as cool air met your slick, displayed cunt.

“Father Suguru, please… I want to be pure.” you coaxed him down, watching as he took shaky footsteps before dropping to his knees before you. “Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me how you indulged yourself and tainted your soul… let me save you.” You shivered as his fingers trialed up the bare skin of your thighs, brown eyes observing your cunt dutifully. Your hands found their home pressed flat to either side of you, supporting you against the polished wood. “My clit… I played with it until I left a wet mark on my sheets… I didn’t let myself cum for a long while…” you breathed out, watching as he nodded, cheeks red and lips glossy as his tongue swiped across them. “I see…” he started, moving one calloused finger to swipe up your slick folds. “...like this? Gentle strokes and circles, right?” he used his thumb to press against your clit, rubbing it in circles until he felt you twitch. “Y-yeah…” you sighed, head falling back.

Suguru smirked, not moving any quicker. Your pretty sounds began to fill the empty cathedral, your arousal dripping down to the polished bench below you. He was careful with his movements, slowing until he was barely moving when he noticed you clenching around nothing, trying to draw your orgasm closer. “Be a good girl and let it happen… don’t force your body to cum because you think I’ll leave you hanging, sweet girl.” you whined, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding until he said that. You forced your head back down, face warm as you realized he was still intently staring at you. Granted you had done the same to him as you got him off. “Tell me, is this how you were sinning last night?” Suguru waited until you were about to speak, using two fingers and slipping them straight into your slick core. “Y-yeah…”

Your body tensed again at the intrusion, moaning loudly as he massaged your walls. “I promise you, sweet girl, I will cleanse you.” he cooed, eyes focusing solely on you as he gauged your reactions. He would find that one particular spot, he was sure of it. “Please Father Suguru… cleanse me…” you cried out as he brushed it, a smirk curling the ends of his lips as he pressed his fingers into the front of your walls, thumb still sloppily rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your thigh. “S-Su…Father Suguru…” you croaked, tears leaking down your cheeks as he abused that one spongy part of your cunt. You couldn’t think straight, mind blanking completely as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. “Go on, sweet girl, cum on my fingers.” He encouraged, voice so gentle you would have never guessed he was knuckle deep in your cunt.

Suguru could feel it of course, your walls fluttering and twitching around his fingers as more and more of your slick arousal slipped out of you and down to the pew. “I’m gonna cum… Fa-ahh” you couldn’t get the rest out, hip jerking as your orgasm hit you before you could truly prepare. You cried out, the noise bouncing off of the cathedral walls as the priest continued to finger your cunt and circle your clit with his thumb. “S-Stop oh fuck s-stop…” you wheezed out, an unfamiliar feeling building in your gut as he continued to abuse that one spot with his fingers. “No, this is what you need, sweet girl, let it happen.” he encouraged, lips parted as he watched where his fingers had disappeared inside of you very intently. Your eyes screwed shut, trying to fight off the feeling but it was useless, the priest was unrelenting in his movements.

Shockwaves of your orgasm turned into a full blown tsunami, your head falling back as a gush of fluid sprayed out of you and onto the bench and marble floor below. You cried out, his name mixed somewhere in the jumble of your babbling, utterly embarrassed. Finally, Father Suguru stopped, withdrawing from your body entirely and getting off his knees. “Sweet girl, what a mess.” he scolded you, a devious grin on his face still as he looked your wrecked frame over. “You’ve been cleansed, pretty. But I would argue that we should double… or even triple check to make sure it’s really working.” Your body felt heavy, eyes lidded as you merely nodded, cunt still fluttering at the thought of getting more of the priest before you.

“I’ll make sure you are pure, my sweet girl.”

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