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scara-writes · 23 days

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paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging hus presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not." L

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I had my fill..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

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pinkmirth · 7 months

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⸻ 𝒦ℰℰ𝒫ℰℛ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, always trailing not far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

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charmedreincarnation · 7 months

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When I say that this journey is real, and our struggles are not in vain, I am shouting it from the rooftops. A month ago, I woke up with my dream life. Obsessed with the "void state", I woke up one day being the same person but with an entirely new life. All because I chose it.

Your efforts aren't going unnoticed. The universe is always on your side. You are the universe. It's been a month, and I still feel overwhelmed with joy and wonder every single day.

I was once poor and battling depression, a reality many can relate to. But we found the law because we knew we deserved more. You can be ordinary, flawed, even unkind, but you can choose to transform and have it all. And I did just that. My parents, who were illegal immigrants working underpaid jobs, are now wealthy and respected figures. My last name alone garners recognition, and I am a socialite earning money just by being me.

I used to live in an attic infested with cockroaches. Now, I reside in a four-story mansion, complete with exotic cars, house help, cooks, drivers - all treated and compensated fairly. We also own three other houses across the United States.

I was once insecure, severely underweight, and bullied. Today, not only am I stunningly beautiful, but I am also praised for my fashion sense. I was once a dull person, but now I am radiant with positivity.

I attended an underfunded school where I was bullied, and teachers lacked resources to intervene. Now, I study at a prestigious private school that assures my entry into an Ivy League university. Finally, I am respected and appreciated.

I was lonely and uninteresting. Now, I am vibrant with a close-knit group of friends and a man who seems straight out of a Wattpad story. He's perfect, and he's mine.

This transformation happened overnight. And I've been on this journey since 2020. But how??? I surrendered to my imagination!

The void was overwhelming, but now I can easily navigate it. I was tired of giving my power away. So, I gave in to myself, to my dreams. I knew I deserved it. Even if I didn't believe it at times, I made the choice. If you desire something, it's already yours. It's done.

I didn't have a list or anything of my desires, just a vision of happiness. I didn't know what it looked like, but I knew how it felt. Now, I embody that feeling every day. My life is a series of plot twists. It's not perfect, but my worst days now are what I once prayed for. That old life? POOF It's gone. All I have is now, and I'm living it to the fullest.

My advice?

Stop seeking proof. If you're looking for proof, you'll never manifest your dreams because the only thing that needs to change is self. Doubt is a reflection of your disbelief in yourself. When I surrendered to my imagination, it didn't matter who was lying or telling the truth, because I had my truth. The burden of proof lies within you. It's called the law of assumption. You might harbor some doubt, but you must have faith like the devout. They believe without proof. You can too! We all can! Believe in yourself, and the universe will conspire in your favor!!!!

I agree! Your words resonated with me a lot. Faith, particularly self-faith, is such an important tool in shaping our realities. The ability to trust ourselves, our desires, and our potential is essential in manifesting our dream life, and it’s only so beautiful to slowly see yourself give yourself all your trust when you’ve never even liked yourself.

You're spot on about the issue of seeking confirmation from others. It's an unnecessary hurdle that we give ourselves but it’s human nature. Our truths and dreams should not be validated by anyone else but us. As you said, why should it matter if someone lied or told the truth? We are the creators of our own lives and thus, the only validation we need comes from within.

And I wholeheartedly agree with your point about deservingness. We don't have to earn our desires or prove ourselves worthy of them. If we want something, that desire alone makes us deserving of it.

More importantly I am very proud and happy for you !!!! You’re a testament of what our own imagination can do for us and I hope you only keep getting happier and happier <3!!!!

#sucess story #manifestation #law of assumption #dream life

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multi-fandom-imagine · 11 days

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how have we as a fandom collectively not discussed lucifer corruption kink. because idk about anyone else but GODDDD FUCK

i was raised christian and that shit is so hot. like.. god DAMN

it's the "you used to be so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" of it all for me.

A/n: this is just 🤌

You shouldn't be doing this, you were an Angel, one of the highest ranking members but looking up at the King of hell, the very man that Adam warned you about. Even when you were alive you knew better than to mess with him.

And yet, you found yourself unable to care at all.

You were on your knees, the man grasping your chin as he gave you a smirk but his eyes held something completely different.

"you used to be so devout when you were alive, what would they think of you now with the devil's cock in your mouth?" Lucifer then let his fingers glide down your cheek as you arched into his touch.

He couldn't explain why he wanted you so badly, he may have wanted to corrupt you but he also wanted to as his, he wanted you to be his and his alone.

Swallowing thickly, you could feel your heart race as you nodded your head and with a snap of your fingers you were lying in his bed. His dark eyes looking you over, wings wide and those horns. You wanted nothing more than to touch them.

"Sir....please..." you wanted something that Adam would never give you. "Please fuck me."

Lucifer grins, a mischievous glint in his red eyes as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice was low and husky as he spoke, his words dripping with desire.

"Such a dirty mouth for such a pure girl." He stated hovering above you, his hands slipping under your dress. "Please...call me Lucifer and trust me Angel. I've been waiting for this moment for far too long," he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of excitement and possessiveness. "I'm going to show you just how much better I am than Adam will ever be." His voice was thick with desire as he continued, his words a blend of dominance and longing.

"You're mine. Only mine," he growled. "I'm going to make you forget about him completely. I'll make you scream my name, beg for me to take you. I'll give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."

His lips then crashed against yours, a surge of passion and hunger fueling the kiss. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as if he were claiming it as his own. His hands roamed over your body, his touch igniting sparks of desire within you.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "Now that you're mine, I'm never letting you go."

With each word, Lucifers confidence grew, his grip on you tightening. He was determined to make you forget heaven,forget about Adam and to show you just how much better he could be. And in that moment, as his lips trailed down your neck and his hands explored your body, you couldn't deny the overwhelming desire that burned within you. You were his, and he was going to make damn sure you knew it.

Whimpering against his lips, you rubbed yourself against his groin as your breaths came out in shallow pants.

Lucifer's desire intensified as he felt your body pressing against his, your movements igniting a fire within him. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as he ground against you, the bulge in his pants growing harder with each passing moment.

"Mmm, you're so eager, aren't you, Angel?" he purred, his voice thick with need. "You want me to fuck you, don't you? To feel me deep inside you, claiming every inch of you?"

His hands now roaming over your body as he slowly undressed you, his touch gentle yet possessive. His eyes drank in the sight of your exposed skin, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second.

"I want you too spread those pretty legs for me."

As you complied, he quickly shed his own clothes, his cock springing free, hard and throbbing with need. He crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes.

"You're mine, Angel. And I'm going to make you feel so good," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and adoration.

Without further hesitation, he plunged into you, filling you completely with one swift thrust. A moan escaped his lips as he felt your warmth enveloping him, a perfect fit that sent waves of pleasure through his body.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, each one driving you closer to the edge. His hands held onto you tightly, his hips meeting yours in a rhythm that was both primal and passionate. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with a mixture of possessiveness and aching desire.

"You're so fucking tight, Angel," he groaned, his voice laced with pleasure. "You feel so good wrapped around my cock."

He quickened his pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own release. His lips found yours once again, claiming them in a passionate kiss as he poured all his desire and need into you.

"Come for me, Angel," he whispered against your lips. "Let me feel you clench around me. Let me make you mine in every way."

As you both reached the peak of pleasure, Lucifer's own release washed over him, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. He spilled himself inside you, his moans mingling with yours as you both rode out the waves of ecstasy.

Lucifer collapsed beside you, his breathing heavy yet satisfied. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his lips pressing gentle kisses against your forehead.

"You're mine, Angel," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness. "And I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."

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lovelybucky1 · 8 months

Text

Nectar- Tommy Shelby x Reader

warnings: AFAB!reader, f receiving oral sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation, blasphemy kink, church sex, heavy religious themes, corruption kink, dirty talk, canon typical violence

masterlist

The church is quiet like it always is at this hour. The pews empty of parishioners, the confessionals vacant, and the lights dim. The priest and almost everyone in the neighborhood have long been in bed. You, however, were wide awake.

You’ve been working in the church since you were a girl, per your family’s wishes. It’s mostly charity work: caring for the sick, poor, orphans, and others in need. You also spend a fair amount of time working inside the church, cleaning and whatnot. It is fulfilling work, but it doesn’t offer much in terms of pay, so you don’t have much of a space to call your own. That is why you spend your nights in the empty church, alone save for the conversations you have with God.

Since you spend so much time in the church, you’re pretty familiar with the congregation. It’s not often you see a new face unless a new family moves to the city. When you heard the heavy oak doors open, you were expecting a devout Catholic in crisis, not the notorious crime boss, Tommy Shelby.

You watch from the first pew near the altar as he walks down the aisle toward you. His hat and coat are wet from the rain, and once he takes a seat a few rows behind you, he takes them off. You’re confused, wondering what he could be doing in your church in the middle of the night. Part of you feels nervous, knowing that danger never follows far behind a Peaky Blinder.

“Good evening, Mr. Shelby,” you decide to speak up, voice kind and sweet as always.

Tommy’s eyes flick to you, but his expression is unreadable. “I’m not dead yet, eh?” he says. You look closer at him and in the dim light, you can just make out the dried blood splattered on his face.

So maybe it isn’t a good evening. Nevertheless, he has come to a church and he is allowed sanctuary here. You make your way over to where he sits and you stand at the end of the row, obviously looking hesitant if his glance is anything to go by.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask. Instead of a response, he cocks his head to the side in a way that you’re interpreting as go ahead. You sit down, pressing your knees together to make yourself as small as possible. There is about a foot of space between the two of you, but even still, the proximity to him is overwhelming.

As the two of you sit in silence, your mind starts to wander. You know his Aunt Polly is Catholic; she frequents the church, though she never attends the services. You’ve overheard her prayers before, and you understand why she prefers to pray in private.

“Are you Catholic, Mr. Shelby?”

Your desire for conversation seems to surprise him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to looking straight ahead at the altar. It takes him a few moments to respond, and you can see the inner battle on his face as he decides how to answer.

“No,” he says.

“I see. Your Aunt is, though. I see her nearly every day.”

“And she’s a fool for it.” The bitter tone he takes only gives you more questions.

“I take it you don’t believe in God?”

“You’re quite inquisitive,” he says, shooting you a look. “God abandoned me long ago.”

You sigh. Many of the men held the same sentiment after they came back from the war. The horrors they experienced in France, the death and destruction took the fear of God away from these men. Now, all they fear is each other.

“It’s never too late to find him again,” you offer. Tommy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle in response. “You can still be saved.”

“I’m past the point of saving. I’ve got a spot in hell waiting for me.”

You frown at that. “God is all about forgiveness. God will even forgive men like you as long as you accept him.”

“What’s the point in asking forgiveness if I don’t indent on stopping?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, making himself look more intimidating. “And what do you mean, men like me?”

As if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you, you immediately realize your mistake.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I just meant men in your… line of work,” you say, trying to backtrack.

“And what line of work is that?”

Tommy is sitting up now, leaning just slightly closer to you. Now that he is fully facing you, you can see the blood on his face, but by the lack of injuries he has, you’re suspecting it’s not his. His gaze is piercing as he stares into your eyes, smirking as he waits for you to respond.

“I-I don’t know.” With a small, satisfied smirk, Tommy leans back again. “I’m just saying, sir, you haven’t strayed too far from God’s light.”

That makes him chuckle again. “I see. So all I have to do is absolve myself, right? Confess my sins and I’ll be God’s child once again?”

He’s toying with you now. He wants to see if you are devoted enough to your God that you’d try to convince the biggest sinner in the city to become a religious man.

“That’s right,” you smile softly, still hesitant from your previous slip-up.

“Can I confess to you?” he asks.

“I’m not the priest-”

“I want to do this now. I want to find God.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. It’s about confessing to God, the person doesn’t matter. “We can go to the confessionals.” You begin to stand, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“That’s far too formal, don’t you think? We can do it right here,” he says, the faintest look of mischief in his eyes.

You nod and sit back down, folding your hands onto your lap. Tommy slides off the bench and sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped in front of him.

“Bless me, for I have sinned,” he begins, looking into your eyes. “It’s been many years since my last confession. In my time away I’ve done many bad things, terrible things, that make me ashamed to look in the mirror. I’ve lied, stolen, scammed, and gambled. I live a life of deceit and greed, and I’ve found great success in doing so, but those are not the sins that weigh heaviest on me.”

You watch him intently as he speaks, your eyes tracing every word his mouth forms. Your heart begins to beat quicker in your chest; the idea that you’re getting access to information only meant for God makes you feel guilty, but it’s also exciting in a strange way.

“I’ve taken many lives. During the war, I was ordered to, but I continued once I came home. I’ve killed in every way imaginable. Shot in the head, slitting their throat, hanging, drowning, burning, suffocating. I’ve had men ripped apart for betraying me, and I did not feel remorse. I watched these men suffer as my men tortured them. I laughed as they pleaded for God to save them.”

Tommy doesn’t look as remorseful as most do when they’re confessing their terrible sins. He almost looks proud, like he’s bragging about them to you as you squirm under his gaze. The graphic descriptions he’s offering make you uncomfortable like your skin is too tight on your bones. Like he’s corrupting you just by having you listen to his tales.

There is a blaze behind his light blue eyes that captivate as much as they scare you. They bore into your soul and peel back the layers, revealing all of your inner thoughts. It makes you want to run away screaming, to pray for God to rid this world of the devil in front of you but you’re stuck, frozen in front of him as he confesses.

Tommy takes a breath as if what he is going to say next brings him great shame. As if he hasn’t already confessed the worst sins man could commit.

“Perhaps worst of all, I lust. I lust after women and I envy men with beautiful wives to the point I take them for myself. I’ve had many married women in my bed, as well as hers. I fuck whores too, but only the pretty ones. And they can’t be cheap, because those women can’t keep a secret. I don’t only fuck them in the bed. I’ve fucked in my office, my car, and my pub. It doesn’t matter who these women are, but once I have my sights set on them, I am determined to get what I want.”

The confessions about his sex life shock you. Of course, you know people have pre-marital sex and affairs are common, but you’ve spent your life in the church. You don’t hear of these things frequently, and you feel bashful because of his vulgar words. Tommy holds eye contact with you as he speaks, though you find it difficult to meet his eyes.

Your body betrays you now; you’re unsure how to react. You should be scared, you are scared. There is a murderer less than two feet from you, splattered with someone else’s blood. However, he has a soothing, gentle voice, kind eyes, and a soft smile. It’s hard to believe that the man on his knees praying to God is a monster, but you find it harder to believe that there is a heat growing between your thighs from his confessions.

The vivid images of Tommy with some faceless woman play in your mind. You imagine the way he’d look lost in pleasure, carefree and blissful. You imagine how his rough hands, which are currently clasped together, would feel on your skin. You imagine how his voice would sound in your ear, how his lips would feel as he whispers.

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a physical reaction from the fantasies. Your skin feels hot, burning with shame as you pray that Tommy doesn’t notice your current state.

“And finally, I’d like forgiveness for lusting after the church girl who was stupid enough to think she could show me the light,” he says, hands now dropped at his side and gaze predatory.

Entranced by his words, you didn’t notice how close he had leaned in, now only inches from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a split-second, you think you see Tommy’s eyes on your lips.

“Sir?” you ask, voice no more than a squeak.

“I appreciate your efforts, dear, but I sold my soul many years ago.”

Tommy’s eyes are sharp and his grin is wide as he leans closer to you. He has lured you into his trap and you fell for it like a fool. Now, helpless and trapped, he is going to swallow you whole. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, almost downing out his sweet, deep voice.

Tommy places his hands on your knees, and even through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the coolness of his skin. The touch, although not sexual in nature, electrifies you. A shiver runs down your spine and Tommy must notice if the slight smirk is anything to go by.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes,” you choke out.

“Would you mind helping me?”

You furrow your brow, now much more hesitant to do anything for him. Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you’re certain you are trembling slightly.

“With what?” you manage to ask. Somehow, even on his knees below you, Tommy makes you feel small.

“I need something new to worship,” he says.

Tommy slides his hands down your claves until he reaches the hem of your dress, which he then pushes up to reveal your stockinged legs. He gently guides your knees apart and you allow him until you feel too exposed. You resist against him and he looks up at you with a questioning look.

“I-I can’t,” you say.

“You can lie to yourself, you can lie to God, but you can’t lie to me,” Tommy says, grasp still from on your knees but no longer pushing. “You want this.”

You look away, over your left shoulder as you try to hold onto any of the values you held before Tommy entered the church. You’re saving yourself for marriage, and even worse, you hadn’t formally met Tommy before tonight. There’s no love, no future, between the two of you. It goes against everything you have been taught since you were a girl, but he is appealing to the primal side of you. The side of you that slips your fingers underneath your nightgown after you say your nightly prayers. The side of you that allows your eyes to linger on the men in the chuch during service, even as their wives and children sit beside them.

Tommy is not putting the thoughts of sin in your head, he is simply tempting you to act upon the urges you have felt for years.

“You’re the devil,” you whisper.

“And you’re the fuckin’ Virgin Mary,” he counters. “You spend all your life worrying about what’s going to happen when you die. How about I show you what it’s like to live, eh?”

You set your jaw, trying to save a bit of your dignity before you give the man on the floor permission to debase you. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head, but that is not enough for Tommy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

You wonder if he is really concerned with how much you want this, or if this is just another power move. You swallow thickly and resolve yourself to the reality of the situation: if you want anything from the devil with the silver tongue, you’ll have to play his game.

“I want it.”

You’re Eve, and you have just been tempted to take a bite out of the apple by the snake.

With a wicked grin, Tommy presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and, embarrassingly, the contact makes you jolt. He removes your shoes, unbuckling them quickly and with ease, then placing them underneath the pew. His hands reach up your skirt to grab ahold of the top of your stocking. He gently rolls them down your smooth leg and pulls it off your foot before turning his attention to the other one.

It is unnecessary for him to undress you like this, especially when your stockings wouldn’t be an obstacle. There is something about being unusually bare in a church that makes you ache with guilt, and Tommy must know that. He seems like he knows everything.

He bunches the skirt around your upper thighs and he spreads your legs farther. This time, you don’t resist. You swear you see his mouth water when he catches a glimpse of your white knickers, pristine and perfect like a good girl should wear.

“What a precious little thing you are,” he grins.

Tommy ducks his head and drags his nose along your inner thigh until he reaches your clothed mound. He presses his face between your legs and takes a long, slow inhale like he’s smoking a cigarette. His fingers press firmly into your legs and you’re certain you will have bruises left behind. You should be upset about that but truthfully, you’ve longed for something like this.

Tommy’s fingers find the edge of your panties and gently push them to the side, exposing your pussy to the church air. Your breath hitches in your throat and you watch as he stares shamelessly at you. He swipes his finger through your folds to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He brings his hand back to show your desire glistening in the dim light.

“What’s all this?” he asks smugly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you huff.

“Oh love, I’m not making fun. I think it’s sweet how worked up you got over nothin’.”

Tommy leans in again and his hot breath fans over your cunt, which now feels cool from being in the open. You shiver with anticipation as he nears, and your body jolts when his tongue makes contact with you. It’s a light, barely there touch but it sends an electric shock through you and elicits an embarrassing moan.

You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t stop or say anything else. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, then back down. Your hands twitch at your sides, fighting back the urge to grab him, not wanting to show how much you’re enjoying his torture. He knows, of course.

He works you up slowly, not giving too much attention to one spot, not making you too sensitive. You keep your attention focused on him, watching intently as he pleasures you. You don’t even feel the sting of his nails digging into your thighs when he sucks on your clit.

“Sir, please, this is wrong,” you try to reason, but your broken, airy voice sends a different message. You don’t want him to stop, you’d probably cry if he did, but it’s still wrong. It’s still a sin.

You hold on tightly to the edge of the wooden bench to ground yourself so you don’t get lost in the pleasure. Part of you realizes how ridiculous this situation is: a notorious gangster eating out an innocent little church girl. Another part of you couldn’t give less of a shit and just wants to cum.

“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whine. It’s unclear if you’re begging for more or to stop, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s going to give you what he wants and nothing more, nothing less.

He slides two fingers into your soaking cunt and curls them against that spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl. He fucks you with his fingers and works your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself nearing the edge faster than you ever have before.

You build up to your peak, and after a particularly harsh suck to your clit, you begin to cum. Your orgasm shutters through you, making your legs twitch on his shoulders. You let out an unintelligible whine as you grip the bench. Despite having cum, Tommy doesn’t let up on his assault. He continues to suck on your over sensitive clit until you’re shrieking and pushing his head away.

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, looking at you with a glistening face. He makes a show of pushing up his sleeve and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You want to close your legs to stop the cool air from hitting your sensitive cunt, but he is still in the way, keeping you exposed.

“Nectar of the gods in there,” he smirks, glancing down at your soaked pussy.

Without another word, he stands up. He picks up his hat and coat, and begins to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone.

“Wait,” you say, voice echoing in the church. He stops and turns around, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”

“What more do you want?” he asks.

“What about you?”

Tommy chuckles. “Such a generous soul. I’ll take care of it myself, love. You just get to prayin’. We did a lot of sinning you have to repent for.”

You sigh and nod. “Will I see you again?”

“If I decide to become a priest,” he says with a smirk before turning on his heel and continuing out the door.

You know Tommy Shelby will never turn to priesthood, but you do have a feeling he’s found something in the church worth coming back for.

my inbox is open for requests!

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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harleehazbinfics · 3 months

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A tainted dove.

hazbin hotel x devout!reader devout series

Note: i could expand this more but lmao it's already long as it is. react down below if you wanna see more!

You lived as a sister for the church in your past life. You always followed the rules, devoted yourself to praying and doing charity work. You enjoyed that kind of life that just helped people and feel appreciated for your services.

However, most people in the convent didn't seem pleased with you being such a "goodie two shoes" and "outshining" the other sisters, by things holy, even the Father seemed to dislike how well liked you were in the community that he sent you off to a far and remote place.

There was no electricity, a scheduled running water system and there was very little livestock from the extreme climate that most animals die before they reach their first spring. There was only one other person there in the church as well, he was a Father that helped and did services for this small community. He was too old and frail to do tasks outside the community but he had to do it since be was the only one that the people here could depend on.

You could see how extremely happy he was when he found you at his doorstep lending a hand in his mission.

You lived peacefully there with the Father and the villagers, attending mass, helping cultivate the land by going to the next town that you had to travel on foot to get to with how remote the terrain was, and just generally trying to make everyone be happy despite the unfortunate circumstances.

However, men came and destroyed the village, setting it ablaze. You hurriedly evacuated the people to hide and take them to the nearest village for help.

Unfortunately, you were caught and imprisoned by these men, and were defiled as you died by your injuries to resist them, ending futile.

•°•°•°•°

When you sat and looked at the crimson sky your broken wing made it unable for you to fly feeling very detached from yourself.

You did everything they asked, you became a very good sister until your dying breath only to end up here. Were you fed lies? Or, was this the fate you were already dealt?

Collapsing from the stress, you failed to notice a figure flying towards you, scooping you up and leaving with you to his castle.

When you finally woke up, you felt your wings be in better shape. You gave them a stretch holding them in your hands as you inspected them. They were red on the top and white underneath with gray swirls as a touch.

You were startled when you saw a blond male in a white suit and hat come to you. He gave you some soup with a wry smile.

You accepted his kind help feeling indebted to him for being the only generous person that you ever crossed paths with while being here in hell for a good while.

He introduced himself as the ruler of hell, Lucifer himself. This fact obviously shocked you. Lucifer was this short, dorky, kind man? It was quite hard to believe from all the scriptures you've read while you were alive.

He explains his backstory which you found quite pitiful and explained how he was surprised to find your existence here in hell when you should've been in heaven.

He promises to make things right with you, so he takes it upon himself to call his daughter, Charlie to help you. While he tries to deal with it.

When you get to the hotel, you were enamoured by the passion that Charlie had for her cause and felt like you needed to help her.

So, you worked with them for a month getting accustomed to life here. It was actually quite delightful being genuine friends with them. They often talked to you when they felt lost or frustrated or lost touch of themselves and their emotions. You didn't mind it, it was your life's work after all.

After getting closer and closer to everyone, Lucifer comes back and tells you that Heaven doesn't acknowledge the mistake that they made and that you were to stay here for the rest of eternity.

This deeply saddened you but you touched Lucifer's shoulder and smiled.

"Thank you for trying, Lucifer. It's fine! I've actually made friends here. And since you're here, why not join us? We're celebrating Angie's birthday!"

He smiled comforted as you walked with him to the banquet table served with various dishes.

The night ends happily. Despite being unhappy and failing to connect with other people to create deeper relationships on Earth. You felt more at peace here with these sinners than you've ever felt before.

#lucifer x reader #hazbin fotel fanfic #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel

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butchedemup · 3 months

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kristen applebees they could never make me hate you bc wdym that you’ve been going nonstop for months and went through your first lesbian heartbreak and then had to keep going and play cleric of a god you don’t really care about as much as you should because she reminds you too much of yourself. and what do you mean you’re immediately thrust into a new school year where you actually have to give a fuck because it’s important and you’re going to run for class president. and your god who you haven’t exactly been nice to finds out that you’re the constant in fucking up devout relationships to the point where the last one died. and what do you mean you still have to take care of your little brothers because as much as you had to run away from your shitty abusive parents you just kinda .. left them there still. i’m very much looking forward to kristen’s development this season and just based on how beardsley has been playing her as just unhinged and a little indecipherable that she will learn the ramifications of her actions just a little bit too late

#fantasy high #kristen applebees

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strawberrystepmom · 4 months

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pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner?

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.”

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips.

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.”

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn’t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar.

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.”

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you.

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.”

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing.

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock.

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.”

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked.

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel.

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel.

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him?

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length.

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip.

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth.

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below.

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.”

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

#kenjaku x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #kendall writes

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hana-no-seiiki · 4 months

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ARDENT EXALTATION, ETERNAL DAMNATION

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere worshipper! x secret god! reader (ft. yan! god oc)

inspired by my bootiful @sagesskies n baldur’s gate shar/shadowheart

synopsis: if there was one main rule under your creed, it was for your name and titles thereof to never be spoken. but for this worshipper, it’s all that leaves his lips.

tw/cw: yandere & religious themes. yun sadist hours writing. reader calls oc their child but it’s not incest yall ples. character deaths.

TO WORSHIP YOU WAS THE GREATEST HONOR ONE COULD RECEIVE. An honor never to be shared nor declared. Selfishness and secrecy were the traits you valued in your followers. You simply felt that flaunting your presence to be superfluous, if not arrogant — thoughtless. A flaw you often saw in other gods that you wished not to have in yourself.

But of course, you were not perfect. No matter how much you may wished to be, even gods had their failures and oversights.

Once such oversight was Ynaël. The Prodigy, Priest of the Night, and your favorite.

He was immaculate. A perfect example of what it meant to worship you. He dedicated his voice, body, and soul only to you. No one knew his name but yourself. No one else knew he even existed. Those that did were sundered from existence, or lived in the afterlife.

You had only the highest of expectations for your child. He had an outstanding beginning. Unprecedented in your long, well hidden line of followers. You called for his name often. Assisted him in the ways you could as a deity in his adventures. Even allowing him to lay with you underneath the stars as mortals and your more carnal siblings did with their creations.

But as mortal beings and gods alike were, when faced with such high praise, it was inevitable for hubris to fester and slowly creep up on him.

He overstepped.

Sharing his devout adoration to his companions. Showering you with praise as he fought. Spreading your transcendent name throughout the very soil he stepped upon, and the crevices of bodies he’d desecrate.

What more was that he was proud of his accomplishments. You deserved to be known. To be remembered and immortalized. To share the spotlight your fellow celestial beings had. Was it not only right that you praise him even more?

But then, he could feel your presence slowly dimming in its luminance.

You never had a temple built to your name, so he could only ponder at night when everyone else had gone off to sleep or have fun underneath the sheets to wonder why you’ve seemingly left him. Was he too harsh? You were known for valuing mercy and forgiveness, the ability to show compassion even to the most tainted beings. Besides, you would never just leave him behind.

Frustrated with your lack of response to his calls, he sets upon a goal to build you a place for worship. One that was overdue in its establishment, in his opinion.

It took many, many agonizing years without a single word from you, but it was finally complete.

He takes a moment to gaze at the statue of your magnificent form he place behind the altar, soon to be covered with sacrifices and blessings. Anything you’d ask for, just as long as you bless him once more with yourself.

But instead, he is greeted by another presence.

A presence very similar to yours. Yet much, much more powerful.

Their voice almost tore Ynaël’s ears wide open in its magnitude.

“You killed them, you — a worthless scum of a mortal.”

Killed whom? Throughout his years working on your temple he had taken no life. He wanted everything to be completed as soon as possible. He had no time for any sorts of conquests.

“Meet your maker.”

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024

— to be continued

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islandofsages · 4 months

Note

Hey, I wanted to ask for the housewardens with a male!reader from their dorm that have the same name as the Seven's sidekicks (?).

Example : Cerberus for Idia, Diaval for Malleus, FlotSam for Azul, ect...

And people (*cough* Yuu *cough*) always compared the reader with the housewarden and always say things like : "oh yeah, the new Diaval and the new Maleficent.." *looking at Reader and Malleus talking about Briar Valley.*

characters: the housewardens x male reader

tags: platonic, fluff + crack, imagines + scenario format; yuu is there, mentions of ruggie and jack in leona's, mentions of the leech twins in azul's, mentions of jamil in kalim's, mentions of ortho in idia's, mentions of sebek in malleus'

warnings: nothing

author's notes: i tried to choose characters that aren't already inspirations for the characters in the game so some of them end up being from the second movie and stuff LOL sorry if this isnt what you want anon but honestly i did have a lot of fun writing this

Riddle Rosehearts — The King of Hearts

You’re not sure why and how but you’re dubbed as The King of Hearts of your dorm, alongside Riddle who is the Queen

Unsure of what to make of this, you ignore it and continue to devote yourself to the Queen just as any normal person would sorry this is kinda satire

Riddle is simply your friend. You cherish him a lot and you respect him and his beliefs. Even when he overblotted, your faith in him is unwavering

Speaking of the overblot, after the whole catastrophe, you’ve grown a lot closer with the other card soldiers, along with the magicless kid named Yuu and their pet (Grim was his name?)

They would greet you from time to time, stop by to have a chat when they’re free and check up on the dorm

One day, they made an offhand comment about you and Riddle

“You guys are paving the way for the new generation of the Queen of Hearts and the King of Hearts. Though, I guess the King of Hearts didn’t really do anything anyway.”

First of all, what the hell are you talking about?

Second of all, you’d say you contribute much to the dorm. For Yuu to assume such a thing for you simply because some “past King of Hearts” didn’t do so is ridiculous

You don’t voice these things out loud and shrug it off as them saying random things again, or making some kind of reference you don’t get

And because, third of all, you realize they broke rule 228: they definitely picked a rose in your garden. So you go to kick them out before Riddle could find out.

All in the day’s work for the King of Hearts.

Leona Kingscholar — Zira

You could say you and Leona are tight - maybe not Ruggie and Leona tight, but almost

And part of that can be attributed to the fact that you may or may not idolize Leona. But hey, it’s not strange. If Jack can do it, why can’t you? At least it’s not on Sebek’s level

Plus, you deserve to have some pride in yourself for being one of the only people Leona confidently calls a friend of his

Though, one person has been persistent about being Leona’s friend - Yuu, the person who just spawned out of nowhere apparently

You’d catch them talking to Leona sometimes and to be frank, there are times where Leona is less annoyed than usual at their presence

One day in particular, the three of you are hanging around Savanaclaw’s lounge, when Yuu drops a bombshell

“Ah yes, of course, you two are exactly like Scar and his creepily-devout follower, Zira.”

??? Yes, Zira is (a variation) of your name but you wouldn’t call yourself “creepily-devout”. Also, who even is Scar?

Leona’s ears twitch in annoyance, either because he doesn’t understand what Yuu means or that he’s put off by their phrasing

You sit in silence, deciding if this is a topic worth asking more about or not

Curiosity gets the best of you - you ask them. They basically dump all the information they could onto you

Yeah, you still don’t get it. But whoever this other Zira is, they’re kinda cool honestly.

Azul Ashengrotto — Morgan(a)

A lot of people consider you one of Azul’s henchmen alongside Jade and Floyd - God forbid working to the bone every day for the Mostro Lounge, right?

But you don’t take it as an insult. It’s no compliment to be so loyal to such a capitalistic bastard (said affectionately) but it’s just another part of your life

Plus. You’re friends with the dude. His cunning nature is what you’re here for

Maybe sometimes you feel a little inferior to him since everyone lauds him as some powerful mage but you tell yourself you don’t need such prestige

Though even outside of work, sometimes you see that Yuu person loiter around the Mostro Lounge in search of Azul (and the Leech siblings occasionally)

So you decide to sit down with them one day and have a nice little chat when-

“So you’re the Morgana dude right? You definitely give off the vibes. Let me guess: you have a love-hate relationship with your stronger, superior boss?”

You have to do a double take at what they just spouted - where are these assumptions coming from suddenly?

Also your name is Morgan.

They laugh and assure you it’s only a joke and a reference to a movie they like since Azul and you have an uncanny resemblance to the characters in that movie

Even still, you can’t help but feel confused… no way they just go up to people and reference things they enjoy right…?

You try to work on your vibes starting the very next day.

Kalim Al-Asim — Aladdin

You’re somewhat of an enabler for Kalim’s party animal and reckless tendencies which Jamil doesn’t really appreciate but also you don’t give a shit

Who can say no to free food and music? Well, a specific amount of people but you’re definitely not one of them

Kalim is friends with everyone; or rather, he considers everyone a friend and that considerately counts you too

But you two really are though - after the party’s died down, the two of you would chat late into the night about everything and anything. And it works because he’s such a good listener

At one of his many parties, the Yuu person who’s apparently from another world comes to party along with you

And so you eat and dance as one usually would under Kalim’s rule, learning bits of information about Yuu along the way

As per usual, the party dies down so you, Kalim and Yuu take the chance to relax and have a concrete conversation

At some point, Yuu comments on your name (and apparent namesake…?)

“Wait, so your name is Aladdin? Like the thief guy who fell in love with the Sultan’s daughter? Feels kinda weird since Kalim kinda reminds me of the Sultan himself…”

Well, yes, your name is Aladdin although you just tell people to call you Ali but everything else they just said is completely false

You all laugh it off because the mood is appropriate for an elaborate joke as such but the next day, when you think over the whole interaction, you have to wonder what was going on through their head at the time

You make a mental note to see if you’ll ever fall in love with a sultan’s daughter.

Vil Schoenheit — Raven

You’re a little intimidated by Vil but you have as much respect for him as anyone does

And somehow, you manage to gain his respect too, though you are a mere spudling…

You try not to let it get to your head (especially considering he has more respect for some other spuds than you) but it’s no easy feat to get a compliment from Vil Schoenheit himself

One person in particular has been getting a lot of attention from Vil lately, you’ve noticed

This Yuu person has been stopping by Pomefiore a lot lately, ever since the weird invasion at school where a bunch of robot people broke into the school grounds

You don’t question it because they’ve been interacting with Vil since the VDC but the thing is Yuu has been trying to get to know more of the dorm members

And one day, they get to you finally

They seem normal enough once you two sit down to chat in the lounge—

“Hm, so your name is Raven? I think I vaguely remember a raven being in Snow White…”

You have no idea what that means and before you could change the topic yourself, Yuu dismisses it; but then the next day, when you were thinking about the exchange again, you get curious as to what a Snow White is

So you start to scour the Internet for this “Snow White” and it manages to consume you for a few days until Yuu tells you that it’s just a movie from their world

You don’t talk to them for a few days.

Idia Shroud — Meg

You and the Shroud brothers are more like frenemies than anything - you three banter like old friends who know too much about each other

Other than Ortho, Idia does ask you for some favors a lot and you like joking that he’s drowning in debt when it comes to you

Sometimes he pays back by gaming with you, sometimes he pays with actual money. Good money at that. You don’t complain either way

One day you run another favor for him (which he promises more good money for) to send some stuff to Ramshackle

A person named Yuu and their only other dorm member Grim had sent stuff to Idia for repairing and maintenance - not that you care about the details. You’re just gonna get it over with

Once you reach their dorm, the first thing you’re met with are the two dorm members bickering over something. You chuckle; it reminds you of your conversations with Idia

You excuse yourself for interrupting and go to drop off their things on the table in the middle of the lounge

They stop bickering then and Yuu greets you momentarily before muttering something under their breath

“Of course the new Meg to the new Hades dropped off our stuff.”

You assume they don’t know that you heard what they said and quite frankly you don’t want to care much but you admit you’re a bit curious of what they mean

When you get back to Idia, you ask him to decipher that cryptic message

He admits he has no idea what they mean by that, simply tells you not to think about it and pays you with some good old cash - and some fun gaming time so you forget all about it later anyway.

Malleus Draconia — Diaval

You are one of Malleus’ loyal retainers - you were bestowed the honor of being his “wings” even whatever that means

But Malleus sees you as an equal almost. You are no servant and you have your own wings to tend to; it’s the stuff that would move Sebek to tears

You do see him as a friend mostly, even if at first you started doing so out of pity

But now you see him making more friends around campus and you can’t help but feel happy for and proud of him

There’s one friend who he seems to be around a lot - the magicless human named Yuu

It makes sense since he does enjoy taking walks around their dorm, even before they came to occupy it

One day, you three make the time to have tea together and simply talk. It’s all very pleasant when Yuu says-

“You know, don’t you think it’s weird how your name is Diaval and you’re serving someone who’s strangely reminiscent of Maleficent?”

Well, you don’t think it’s weird because you have no idea what they’re referencing and who Maleficent is - and Malleus seems to think the same, with the confused look on his face and all

Also as true as it is that you’re Malleus’ retainer, you don’t appreciate someone phrasing it as you “serving” him

Yuu apologizes for the comment and explains what they mean by it. You both still don’t get it but it’s enough to make you shrug it off

Sometimes Yuu would still make such comments, thinking you don’t hear it but knowing it’s not that deep, it doesn’t affect the three of you’s friendship whatsoever.

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whispereons · 8 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 14

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 13, Part 15

Warning as usual. There is blood and gore in this chapter!

Staring up at the Archon parading around in human form, you lick your lips and note how even those minor injuries were healed. Your body aches with phantom pain, some wounds healed too rapidly.

"I don't mind answering some questions, can I get your name first?"

A small smile plays at his lips as his hand is held out in front of you. "My name is Zhongli, I'm the Funeral Parlors consultant. It would be a pleasure to hear yours, outlander."

So he is aware of your origin, well at least partly aware. If he's not going to pull any punches then why should you? Besides if it all goes wrong, you can blame it on the bloodloss that you're still recovering from.

"I'm Y/N, and you're correct that I do not originate from this world. You must not be a normal person either, in fact you look identical to this statue. This one portrays Morax the Geo Archon, but I'm sure you know that, Rex Lapis."

Getting a good look at the statue from your proximity, it was obvious that Zhongli was Morax. You could make the excuse of it being game logic on why no one makes the connection, but that wouldn't work anymore. Maybe the statues are imbued with power that prevents anyone from this world to recognize the similarities?

"So it seems you are more knowledgeable than the traveler was when they arrived here. I should have known considering how the Electro and Geo particles surround you with zeal. Perhaps Teyvat is charmed by the features you share with the Holy One."

His step forward and angled head to look you in the eyes have you staring at glowing amber hues. The red eyeliner and outlined iris make it uncomfortably clear how intensely he's examining you.

"The curve of your lips, a stature so familiar, you resemble the creator so much. Teyvat must be bewitched and awed by an individual so alike as you. If only I could see your face in it's full visage, only then would I know for sure..."

Anyone would feel flattered or embarrassed with how seriously Zhongli studies you, but dread is the only thing you feel. You know that behind those honey-coated words is a trap just waiting for you to spring.

Too bad for him; the last thing you plan to be is predictable.

"My, my what a compliment! A devout and faithful follower like yourself is comparing me to the creator? You should pray for forgiveness to the merciful creator. I'm a servant for them, just in a different league than you. My connection with them is strong enough that Teyvat graces me with qualities alike yet inferior to the Everlasting One."

Zhongli returned to his perfect posture at your words, the flash of envy couldn't hide. "Oh?" Narrowed eyes and a lofty tone that encourages you to smile wider. "And what position could an outsider like you hold?"

"Well, as an Oracle of course! Really, just how dumb are you? An outlander that is incredibly knowledgeable of the Creator? It's painfully obvious." There's no reaction to your test insults, which is fine that wasn't the last you had in store.

"I'm from the world that the Creator is recuperating in. It's due to that, that I can speak to them much more freely than everyone here. Even Teyvat pales in comparison. That's why Teyvat is so attached to me, my aura is overwhelmed by the creators."

Honestly, you had Chongyun to thank for that one. You weren't sure how you were supposed to explain the whole Teyvat clinging to you without sounding repetitive. But if Zhongli was that easily fooled, he wouldn't be one of the victors of the Archon war.

"Then enlighten me on why the glorious creator would need an Oracle of your caliber to spread their word. Surely that's the least you can do." He's fully dropped that faux-polite tone in contrast to the technically proper speech.

"Gladly! It's become common knowledge that the elemental monsters and animals have started to act strangely. Add in the leylines that change from out of control to perfectly calm in a matter of minutes or weeks. These are all signs of the Creator's upcoming appearance! They need to be sure of who in this vast land they can properly trust."

"That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen. A wily and fresh child like you wouldn't do the best job." Hard like stone, Zhongli refused to even blink at your words. A god like himself would never falter after thousands of years spent perfecting his worship.

But did he really have to insult you at the same time?

"So you refuse to believe it because of my supposed inability to properly carry out any duties assigned to me? You don't even know all that I had done to arrive here! Surely you should know just how rough the waters were..."

The hand that covers your mouth does a poor job of covering the sly smile. Zhongli stares at you in silence, the wind swaying around the floating chunk of rock that you both stand on.

"Just what are you trying to imply?" His voice is as soft as a whisper but cutting like the sharpest steel.

"Why explain it when I can show it?" Silently rejoicing at such a convenient set up, you peer into your bag and grab the item you've been saving.

Shimmering brightly in the harsh glares of the sun is Beisht's scale, still in pristine condition despite your perilous journey since that day you got it from the sea-leviathan.

It feels like ages ago. Just how much time has passed since you arrived on Teyvat? How much more time will you spend in situations like this? Weeks? Months? YEARS?

The existential dread is quickly pushed away by your beaming smile at Zhongli's reaction to the singular item. The rocky exterior finally breaks at the proof of your 'abilities'. His lips part at the bright teal color and he blinks incredulously at it.

Really, how could you pass up the chance to rub it in?

"Surely a human of my caliber would be capable of this much. I mean, a perfectly intact scale from a leviathan that managed to avoid the whole Qixing that isn't dyed in blood? Child's play for a servant specifically chosen by the Creator. I never doubted the creators' choices!"

Holding the scale in front of you, you smirk at the man with as much snark as you hold in your heart. "The same can't be said for you, Mr. 'That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen.' Because the Creator is capable of choosing anyone they want, for whatever reason they desire."

Silence envelopes the area as you stare at him, a beat passes with no movement until a gruff chuckle leaves him.

"The more you speak, the closer I come to a conclusion." Recovering quickly, Zhongli's gloved hand rises to tap his mouth contemplatively. "You're either something far worse than I've seen in a long time, or a hope for the Creator's return."

That white outline around his iris seems to spin with the malicious joy that he refuses to show. It's like his body screams that he'll either enjoy your presence or your destruction. Nerves and anxiety grip your heart but ignoring it has always worked better for you.

"Maybe I can say the same thing about you considering your past, but I see you still aren't convinced. And how could I ever let you, one of the longest standing worshippers, have doubts about me? So tell me, were Beisht and her husband devout or sacrilegious beings?"

The answer he'll say is obvious, not only because you hold such a confident stance showing that you know the answer but because of Zhongli himself. A noble dragon that willingly bows to someone would feel ashamed at the thought of resorting to lying to boost his own pride.

Quite ironic how you hold so much trust in his answer due to the acolytes' faith in the creator. The same faith that led you to this position, and the same thing that'll keep you from ever exposing the truth of your identity. A constant force preventing them from meeting their 'beloved' creator.

"You met Beisht in the flesh, there's no doubt that she is solemn and serious in her worship. The same can be said for Osial, it was one of the few things I could agree with the leviathan. Even still, I'm the superior believer. After all, I'm the one who is left after all this time."

"Yet I met Beisht before you."

The scoff and know-it-all tone he used pricked at your nerves long enough to cause an annoyed response to slip out. Unfortunately, that seems to be what Zhongli was baiting for as he laughs, the low sound making the rock platform tremble.

"That's if you're even an Oracle. You may be from that world and even heard about Teyvat from the Creator, but for all I know, you could have been banished here for us acolytes to execute. Whether it be for avenging the Creator or entertaining them."

Damn, it was almost scary how fast he turned the situation around. But how could you falter now? Getting tongue-tied at such a crucial moment would be a pathetic way to lose your life.

"And what will you do if I truly am an Oracle? When the creator's return is delayed months, years or even decades due to your rash actions, what will you tell the creator when confronted with the consequences of your own actions?"

"Then you should work hard enough to prove to skeptics like myself. To put blind faith in whatever is dubbed the creator's is a fool's belief. Temptation and sin ravage Teyvat from the long drought of the Creator's presence."

For a split second, sorrow clouded his eyes. He's hiding something. It’s important and you can feel it in your soul. The only thing that really stains his and Venti's reputation is their war with Khaenri'ah. It must be connected to that.

But it's too early to try digging in for information on that. He doesn't even believe you to be the Oracle, how could you possibly get that out of him? What if he's under a contract and must stay silent on the matter?

Lost in his memories, Zhongli doesn't realize how your face pinches in frustration. You'll have to get his approval as the Oracle before you can even-

Oh.

Oh, why didn't you realize this before?

A grin spreads across your face as you circle in on the heart of the problem and the perfect way to fix it.

It's not that Zhongli doesn't believe you to be the creator's Oracle, he just doesn't want to believe it! He's envious: envious of why a random outlander like you got such a nice position in comparison to him who probably spent most of his life molding himself to the creators standards.

All that's left is to reel him in and you know the perfect way how.

"Prove myself? I've done plenty to prove myself, but what about you?" Mockingly, you tilt your head as your empty gaze peers into Zhongli's eyes, digging deep into him. He focuses back on the conversation at your shift in tone.

"If anyone should have to prove themselves, it should be you." This time it's you who takes the bold step forward. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? And try to keep in that temper too so that I can finish my words. A dragon your age should know such simple things."

"As Morax you were quite powerful, though a brute to be completely honest. Still, you knew your limits well and paired up with the Lord of Dust before the Archon War, who served as the 'brain'. Tell me, just how did it feel when you found her as nothing more than a statue that day?"

Your words have a strong effect on the imposing man, his fist trembling at the mention of such a beloved god, one whose death still pains him. Paying no mind to his pain you ask the monumental question.

"Just how much resentment do you hold against the Creator for her death?"

A hand slams you against the Statue hard enough to bruise your skin. It doesn't squeeze around your throat but there's no need to as the Geo begins to petrify your legs, locking you in place. The Statue is in a constant state of healing in defense to the bruises on your neck.

"Just what are you trying to imply by saying that?" Cold and apathetic is the voice that flows from the stoic man. It's what you would imagine Morax would sound like before Guizhong taught him how to care for humans.

"C'mon, that's the second time you've asked me that. Don't make me speak the obvious-" A shuddering gasp leaves you as he tightens his grip. But it's gone just as fast; a flock of birds tackle Zhongli.

You can only watch in shock as what was only 4 to 5 birds grow to become at least 15 birds of all kinds attacking him. The throbbing of your neck being healed as the Geo instantly releases you is overshadowed by Zhongli swatting at the birds as he takes continuous steps back.

But that's all it took for Zhongli to fall off the edge as the birds flew away cawing happily. Standing and staring at the spot where Zhongli fell off in shock, you begin to chuckle. It grows to a giggle before you're laughing hysterically as you buckle to the ground. Loud peels of laughter ring around the area as you hold your stomach from the ache of laughing so much.

To think Teyvat took the initiative to help you out for once. Why couldn't it do it sooner? Was it only after gaining some power from activating a new nations statue of the seven that it could? You couldn't focus on the question anymore as the look on Zhongli's face when he fell came to mind again.

The sight of his eyes blown wide and a split second of pure panic sent you straight back into a fit of laughter. The ground far below you shakes as a Geo pillar constructs a bridge high enough to reach the stone you sat on.

The sound of footsteps make you open your eyes and giggle at the sight of a disheveled and annoyed Zhongli. Annoyed is still an improvement compared to his enraged state earlier. With giggles slipping out, you stand back up and laugh louder at his appearance in full view.

His hair was pulled out of his rattail with his earrings nowhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of the weaker cloth of his suit were missing, giving him a poor look that didn't match his flawless posture. The red marks and light cuts only added to the joy you feel at his expense.

"Are you finished laughing, Y/N?"

"For now at least. I would suggest buying a new set of clothes but I don't think you have the mora for it!" Zhongli only lets out a long-suffering sigh as you crack up again.

You would be scolding yourself for not taking the chance to escape while he was away but it was better this way. You didn't need the information about Khaenri'ah, it was nice to know but the information wouldn't help you live.

The main reason you stayed was because running away would prove Zhongli right to be suspicious about you. It would let him know that you're scared and have something to hide. Plus, that would mean having to escape Liyue the same way you did Ei, just in a worse situation.

That's not something you want to repeat.

"Alright I'm done laughing." You say while wiping off the budding tears from the corner of your eyes. Zhongli sends you a look that screams that he doesn't believe you but you shrug it off.

"Really, that question was more of a test if you will. My main job is simply to see who the Creator can trust. Your relationship with the Creator beyond that is between you and them."

The calm and peaceful tone you use is such a contrast to the one you used earlier that Zhongli is clearly apprehensive. Paying it no mind you continue to speak.

"If you truly want a reason to at least try and believe me to be the oracle even if you don't fully believe me, then I'll give you one. I'm sure you still have the stone dumbbell from Guizhong that you've never been able to open. I know how to open it."

Those last words have Zhongli staring at you intensely as you gaze off into the distance. The Dragon-Queller tree is visible through the fog with its glowing blue branches and yellow leaves.

"How?" He breathes out, scared to trust but scared to lose this opportunity too.

"It requires a naturally grown glaze lily cultivated by the Creator. That's because it requires a 'pure' glaze lily and the only one who can grow such a thing at this day and age is the Creator. All the natural glaze lilies have died after all."

Zhongli's shoulders slump at your words. It seems he started to let his guard down after he fell off. He must no longer view you as a threat or, at most, an annoyance. That's okay with you, underestimation is the most useful viewpoint they could have for you.

"Should I even make an attempt to ask you why it can only be unlocked with that? You're only telling me this as a last resort to keep you alive, correct? Even if I told you that I would keep you alive without that information, you wouldn't believe me. As childish as you may be, foolishness does not seem to be a quality you hold."

"That may be true, but if you really want an answer to that first question then I'll tell you." You look over to lock eyes with him and smile. It conceals every sneaky and vicious thought you hold. "I have no clue. The Creator instructed me to use it as a last resort, if you want that answer then try praying. Perhaps you'll get an answer."

You would like to know the answer to the stone dumbbell too. After all, you only made up the solution! Seeing as Zhongli spent all these years after Guizhong's death, failing to unlock it, it's a good bet that it'll never open.

It's silent as you both get lost in your own thoughts. Unlike before it wasn't tense, it was more comparable to the silence you would spend alone in your apartment. The nights you would only be accompanied by the thoughts of the 'what-if' situations. Thoughts that would only stay thoughts just as the past would be just that, the past.

Wanderer learned that the hard way too. You wouldn't let yourself hold so many regrets before your inevitable death. Even in Liyue you weren't truly safe, so wouldn't it be best to speak to Zhongli while you still could?

"I have questions about Khaenri'ah… Well, the better way to put it is that the Creator has questions about them. It's one of the few things that they mourn the most. A whole nation devoted to worshiping solely the creator, destroyed by the Archons that swore their life and loyalty to the creator. So will you explain it to me?"

His eyes fill with the same sorrow you saw in him earlier. It seems you were right in guessing that his line on blindly trusting things labeled with the creator was connected to Khaenri'ah.

"I have spent all my years after that day asking for forgiveness, for some way to atone. It was one of the few contracts that I did not properly balance in equivalent exchange. I regret signing it, not for myself but for my beloved God."

"So it's a no."

"It's an agreement not to speak of it."

"Then don't speak about it." Zhongli seeds you a questioning glance as you mischievously smile at him. "Just listen to my words and don't look away. I'm quite sure nodding and shaking your head doesn't count as breaking your silence."

A huff of amusement leaves him at your solution. His eyes close with his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head in acceptance, not having the drive to poke holes into your stubbornness.

You were quite confident in the conclusions you've drawn so far. Genshin Impact was nearly the sole reason you were living back on Earth. Family and friends were nonexistent, you had given up hope on making any new connections as well. The only thing you did when you weren't home was work and your work made you be everything but yourself. So combining everything you know from the game with everything of the cult that you've learned thus far shouldn't be too hard.

"When the Archon War broke out, I'm sure most of you were merely looking to keep your people and nation alive. The original design of having the gods powered solely on their people's worship paled in comparison to Celestia's offer of power by obtaining a spot in a group of seven. At the end, you all had a choice. Accept your spot by accepting a Gnosis, or go against them similar to how the Dragon King once did."

Zhongli perks up at the mention of the Dragon King. Not many people know about the original Dragon King. Most people assume it's Azhdaha when in reality, the original was a far greater dragon.

"You all must have been quite against it. The only God you would all bow under would be the Creator who had left before those events to sleep in my world, yet Celestia probably whispered to you all that it was allowed on Teyvat because it was approved by the Creator. That the Gnosis was a reward for all your hard work and as Celestia was the first descender, all of you accepted it.”

The way he begins to stare at you is invasive, like he's just dying to jump you to get every bit of knowledge you hold on the topic. He's starting to suspect you.

"Yet when Khaenri'ah was revealed to exist years afterwards, everything was thrown into confusion. I'm sure you and the other Archons were fine with their presence as Khaenri'ah worshiped the Creator, but was Celestia?"

A sly smile creeps upon your face at the memory of when it was revealed that Khaenri'ah wasn't the first civilization to be turned into hilichurls. No one liked Celestia so you had no problem pinning almost all the blame onto it.

"I'm sure they were enraged, especially as Khaenri'ah grew more and more bold with their inventions. Gold in particular was quite dangerous seeing as she not only created life but also Durin and the Golden Wolflord. And even that was unintentional!"

You laugh cheerfully as Zhongli chuckles in surprise at your words. Had you successfully deterred him? Probably not, but he hasn't stopped you so you'll keep going till the end.

"Celestia ordered you all to aid them in destroying Khaenri'ah but you all refused. How could any of you harm a nation so devoted to the creator even if they refused to worship Celestia or the Seven? But that Gnosis you all accepted comes with a price. A price that serves as leverage and a control device."

The thoughts of what Beisht told you on how Celestia had caused them to forget the original way of worship resurfaced. Celestia was just too suspicious for that to be the only thing they had done. It would take a lot more than that to force the Archons to listen to them.

"That Gnosis was like a drug. It gave you all so much power, tasting and making you feel like you're on top of the world! Just for it to come crashing down when the unpleasant side effects hit you. It corrupted you all like poison forcing you to wage war against Khaenri'ah. My best bet is that it was like mind control. What do you say?"

He looks at you with a blank expression, as if trying to see the secrets you hid in your soul through your eyes. But there's no response from him, not even the occasional nods that he was giving before.

"Well if it was mind control, perhaps it made you believe that Khaenri'ah had plans to overrule the Creator and create their own human god. Or maybe it made them out to be traitors to the creator. Perhaps both? That doesn't really matter, what does matter is that only after the war was in full throttle were you all brought back to your senses."

You didn't have any proof of that last part, it just seemed like something Celestia would do. Not only to prove their superiority but also force the Archons to put their best effort in defeating the people of Khaenri'ah to save their nations.

"After the war ended, you all wanted to get rid of it but Celestia wouldn't allow such a thing. Even if you most likely tried to find some loophole, Celestia doesn't play nice. It would make sense if they threatened to give a punishment similar to what they had done to Khaenri'ah. So long as none of you destroy or throw it away, they'll leave you all be,”

Venti was a god, no matter what fans said, there was no way he would lose to Signora. It made more sense if that was his way of 'handing' it over to the Tsaritsa. There was also Nahida who threatened to break her Gnosis to one-up Dottore. That was always funny, you would kill to have witnessed that in person.

"Of course none of you would actually use it or even desire it in your vicinity. Everyone wins when the Tsaritsa uses her various methods to acquire the gnosis'. And thanks to the traveler appearing during that time, Celestia was probably too busy freaking out over that to pay too much attention. For a while at least."

Finally looking back to Zhongli, you smiled proudly. "I must be pretty close right? At no point did you laugh at me like you did with Alice so I'll take that as a good sign. And even if I'm wrong, everything will be solved when the Creator descends."

Stretching to loosen the tension in your back, you applaud yourself for the brilliant thinking. It's not like anyone can actually fake gold blood for long when even hair dye didn't exist yet. You're basically leaving all these loose ends to the you that would be believed to be the Creator. Which is never going to happen!

"Would the Creator scorn me for asking you once again if you're truly an oracle?"

"I'm sure the glorious creator would be fully justified in doing so, but I'll scorn you in their stead.. And don't get it twisted, it's not because of your feelings concerning Guizhong's death. It's how you, by your own negligence, offended the Creator!"

An utterly baffled expression paints his face at your accusation. Unrelenting, you point your finger at him with a serious face that you haven't shown him till now.

"Did you really believe that the creator wouldn't realize? Just how little you changed from that brute of a dragon that saw humans as plentiful yet insignificant as dust? To think that you believed yourself to be comparable to the primordial dragons."

Zhongli stiffens at the mention of the primordial dragons. After all he is the prime of the Adepti who's exuvia is a dragon, not a primordial dragon. Wouldn't it be fun if he held some sense of inferiority when compared to the primordial ones?

Zhongli sits on the ledge of the rock with his elbows on his legs and his hands covering his face. It was time. He would question just what you were talking about and you'll explain the elemental sacrificing that he forgot. That'll be the end and he'll have no choice but to support you!

Smiling knowingly you approach him and lean down to see behind the shadow casting over his eyes. Your eyes twinkle victoriously as his breath leaves a cloud from the crisp air.

"I should have known that the creator would not forgive me for failing to arrive on time."

What?

"How could I have been beaten to that shooting star by that astrologist? No matter who may have been her master, I failed to arrive on time."

Zhongli sulks there as he continues rambling to himself on 'missing' the shooting star due to his old age. Was he seriously talking about how you lost him the first time to Mona?!

Memories come back of you using the last of your wishes on his banner and being greeted with Mona instead. The first 50/50 you lost and was forced to use nearly all your primogems to get him. A fact that you never let Zhongli forget through your adventures.

Just what would he do if he knew how you always switched to a different character whenever his idle starts to play? Would he sew his lips together in repentance? That must be the difference between a true believer and a fake believer...

Holding back a sigh you begin brainstorming on how you were supposed to bring the conversation back to the sacrificing. Zhongli is too lost in his own head as he begins to continuously blame himself for any mistake he could have made.

"Being unable to answer the travelers' questions must have worsened their view on me too."

"That and how you were willing to let Liyue flood if they couldn't defeat Osial."

"Human life may be precious but they're as numerous as the dust that make up stone. I would rebuild Liyue for the rest of this long life until I cultivate a nation that I could humbly present the creator with."

"Then shouldn't the creator just grind you down and raise a different Adepti to their exact liking? You should work hard to be exactly what they desire to be truly loved."

"Are you saying that the Creator loathes me?" He finally looks away from the sea of clouds to stare at you. Sparing him a glance, you listen to him grow more panicked by your silence.

"Do they wish to see me crumble and be reabsorbed into the earth for my mistakes, for my sins? Was it the way I mechanically went through the motions of worship for the few years after Guizhong's death? Or does my benevolent god crave me and my nation to fall for aiding in the destruction of Kh-?"

Abruptly Zhongli grasps at his chest where his heart lays as he coughs. More out of politeness than concern you rub his back as fluid flies from his lips to his closed fist.

The thick inky plum colored fluid stained his fist with droplets of crimson swirling within it. His coughing fit slows to a halt as his hand slowly releases the clothing over his heart. Harsh breathing and a shallow pained groan is all that can be heard as he cleans himself up.

“Pardon me-”

“Was that a warning from Celestia or a side effect if you get too close to speaking?"

"The implication is the same no matter what it may be from." He whispers as you begin to move back to return his personal space. Yet his now ungloved hand is what wraps around your grass stained sleeve.

"Now answer my question." Determination and a barely concealed unruly emotion simmer beneath his composed surface as he asks. "As an oracle, tell me what I have to do to earn their forgiveness. What must I reap to begin repenting for the sins I sowed?"

Eyes widening at the sight of the disheveled man, you stare at him quietly. The messy hair, cut up clothing and grip tight enough to keep you still all while being careful not to bruise.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Is that a question for me to answer? Am I the god that you wronged? If you wish to communicate with the creator yourself, then there is a way. A method to begin regaining the pebbles that make up the mountain of trust you once shared with them."

You grab the arm that connects to his hand wrapped around your own and pull him up. He obeys the silent command and stands up, his gaze never faltering from your form. Silent and towering like the mountains he's created, he simply listens.

"Celestia has hidden more from you than you originally thought. But I'm sure you already know that. Offer yourself to the merciful creator and they'll surely hear your pleas of forgiveness. Whether they forgive you or not is up to them."

Releasing your hold on him, you turn to survey the area. Now where could you have him perform the sacrifice? His free hand comes to rest on your shoulder for your attention.

"What must I offer of myself? My blood? My body? If need be, I'll even be willing to offer my life. My life is worthless without them. I'm nothing more than a grain of mineral if not for them."

"There's so many things you can offer, but if you want to make the most impact, then you'll offer up your body parts. Your life may be precious but just how much longer do you have left?"

"Then will the private temple I have built for them work? We can head there immediately." He points south to the sole unnamed mountain in Minlin. You vividly remember unlocking the teleport waypoint there.

"The only way I'll know is when I see the interior. I'll meet you there Zhongli!"

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you close your eyes and calmly imagine what the scenery around the waypoint looks like. The rocky feel of the floating stone changes to a lush green beneath your feet. Opening your eyes you're greeted with a valley of viridescent brustles with degraded stone ruins at the edges.

"To think that the Creator even allowed you access to the waypoints. They must treasure you greatly." He appears at your side in a matter of minutes. His tone has a hint of longing and bitterness.

It's sweet like the flavor of a childhood candy that you would sneak behind your parents backs. Almost sweet enough to make up for the starvation you would face later on as punishment.

"Instead of focusing on that, why don't you show me that private temple you created? As the Geo Archon, I hold high expectations for you."

"This temple is the one I created for me. If you want the glamorous shrine built for the mass and appearance then you're better off viewing the public one that the Qixing now control."

He walks down the hill until the grass is tall enough to cover his calves. You follow behind him and stare blankly at the plain that is covered with a healthy amount of tall marigolds. Just as you're about to repeat the question, the earth begins to rumble.

It starts with just one stone rising from the ground, until it multiplies into a roof like structure. You watch in awe as a temple surges out of the mountain with the slightest bits of dirt falling off it.

Stone of high quality and clearly careful upkeep shines with small cracks from the passage of time. Gold, silver, and bronze layer the nooks and crannies of the pillars that keep a roof over the doorway.

Marveling at it, you follow Zhongli into the temple... He couldn't kill you in it, right? Surely you could still teleport even if he locked you in it… Teleporting without using the map might not work due to the focus and effort it required, but doing it with the map has never failed you yet.

The inside was even more impressive; statues of all kinds surrounded the hallway. It was you, always you, just in different poses, clothing and materials. From thin robes crafted entirely from Cor Lapis, to suits made of Noctilucous Jade.

Arriving at what seemed to be the main room, you're greeted with a huge statue comparable to the public one in Inazuma's plaza. Sunlight bathed your statue from the skylight above it.

Your body was made of Cor Lapis decorated in an Archon-like robe made from Noctilucous Jade. A fresh Glaze Lily sat in your palm as Silk Flowers adorned your head in a crown like structure. You sat on a blue stone throne that seemed to grow brighter as you approached it. The sleek yet dense mineral looked like the magical crystal chunks you would give to the blacksmiths.

"Be careful to not venture too close to that one, the elemental energy may leave it to join you." Zhongli warns as he steps into the middle of the room. Smiling casually to hide your amazement, you head back to him.

"What an impressive statue, the Creator is feeling quite pleased with the display but still wishes to see your true remorse." Digging into your bag, you brought out the ceremonial knife and the handbook you took notes on.

"Go get the softest cloth and lay it on the ground. This ritual is simple, you'll cut off whatever part of your body you wish to offer, pray, and wait for a response. If 10 to 20 minutes pass with no response, then you can leave it at that or offer more in hopes of a response."

Closing the book and shoving it back into your bag you offer the knife to Zhongli. He looks up from where he laid the gilded gold fabric to stare at the knife before letting out a drawl laugh.

"That knife will do little to my scales, Y/N. A ceremonial item is to be bathed in liquid gold to be used so I have more than enough weapons that can actually cut my skin."

Scoffing, you stuff the knife back in as he leaves and returns with a variety of weapons. The largest was an ax that smelled faintly of blood. Was it used to sacrifice someone not too long ago? The thought makes you uncomfortable, yet you're no longer alarmed at the thought.

My, have you changed.

You move to stand away from the center closer to the exit. Zhongli's bare hand turns to a pattern of black and amber hues. Shedding his thick coat, his flexed muscles in draconic form are left in full view.

If you were back on Earth, you would have killed to view this. An Archon’s skin was something the majority of the players wished for, for quite a while. Even now, you would love to see his true Archon form, but the thought of actually living was far more tantalizing.

Rolling up his sleeves, he chooses a sword and examines it carefully. Without fear he raises it high and slices downwards cutting his hand off cleanly. The ruby liquid sprays onto the floor as the droplets drip off his sword and dismembered limb simultaneously.

It doesn't matter how many times you witness or smell blood, it still disgusts you. The only blood you truly cherished in shedding was the one that left that man's body when you stabbed him in that cold alleyway.

His hand lands onto the expensive textile with a wet thud as the ivory bone sticks out. Zhongli lays the sword down gently resisting the urge to groan in pain. Gritting his teeth he returned his attention and gaze back to you. You, who stayed in perfect position ahead of him, clad in gems and minerals carved by his own hand.

Closing his eyes, his lips followed the adored pass time of praying with intensity. Too lost in his regret, joy, and infatuation his words slipped out clear like the perfectly carved jewels he’s crafted for you.

"My god, my god. For I have sinned against you so. The mistakes I cannot fix or change, I pray for your forgiveness." Your unmoving, unchangeable eyes stared at him with an expression so familiar to him, one who worshiped you in this temple for centuries.

"From allowing myself to be tricked, to the lack of devotion I felt to you in Guizhong's death and finally with how I treated a servant of yours with disdain. Envious, I am envious to an extent that I shouldn't hold to my righteous god like you. Even now I still haven't broken the habit of referring to you as 'my' god."

Once again, just like the first time, Teyvat seems to overwhelm you with his feelings. You stare at his back as his lips murmur the words of devotion without an end in sight. Silently, you accept his offering, this first one was only to put the last nail in the coffin of you being an oracle.

The sky darkens as Zhongli's hand crumbles into a pile of primogems that dissolve into the air. Blue and purple stars dance across the sky as a lone gold star makes its way closer.

You didn't plan to always accept his offerings. After all you did lose a 50/50 to him and was forced to put up with his paranoid possessiveness in regards to your creator self. Shouldn't you make him lose a few times to even the score?

The gold star shines brighter and bigger as Zhongli gazes at it with a smile purer than anything he's ever felt since his creation at your hands. It flies through the window enveloping him and the whole room with a beaming light.

--------------

When his eyes open, the skylight shows the sunny sky but he can already feel his connection to you stronger. The brilliance you bore shines beautifully in him like a star he wished to keep hidden for only him to see.

It worked, it worked! There is no need for him to be wary or envious of you for claiming to be so close to the creator anymore. In fact, you were a sign specifically designed for someone like him. A sign that the creator had not grown complacent in simply watching Teyvat, you were now showing interest in coming back soon. And through you, he can find out details about the creator that were kept secret all these millennia.

A wide and joyful grin is bared with obsession tangling within it. He turns his head to where you stood and his smile drops abruptly when all he's greeted with is an empty spot.

He built this temple for him and the creator to enjoy in privacy due to his possessive nature born from his dragon lineage, yet the sight of Y/N who up and vanished after fulfilling their duty struck his core like the abyssal gunk that used to constantly corrupt his body.

You may have left, you may think that he wouldn't treat you, a fellow devoted servant well due to his earlier behavior. And he understands that, he truly does but that simply means he has to rectify his mistake before it's too late. You were a mere human while him, a god.

Finding you before any terrible consequences from his mistakes won't take too long.

-------------------

Unaware of the dragon's changing tune, you eye the Dragon-Queller tree from outside the temple with interest. After all the work you've done thus far, indulging yourself with a nice close up of the magnificent landmark would be a good treat for yourself.

This one took a while and it was edited by the same jerk. I really hope all the work was worth it and that the next part can be done faster. But as my college is starting this early Sep, it might be even longer. Genshin's lore is a hot mess so I tried my best to keep it simple while touching on the important parts. All the lore I put in is almost completely accurate. If you don't include the sagau parts. If your name is italic then that means I couldn't tag you. I manually put everyone so hopefully this fixes the notifications problems. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0

#whisp's amateur work #genshin impact #genshin sagau #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau oracle au #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere zhongli #sagau #yandere morax #yandere rex lapis

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neobomb · 6 months

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give into things i (dont) want to [lee haechan]

bully! (yandere) stalker! Haechan x innocent! church girl!reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Word Count: 1.2k Inspired by this drabble made by @neocentral Warnings: mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, stalking, forcing??, slut shaming, masterbation, choking & breathplay?, hair pulling, manhandling, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Summery: bully!Haechan is secretly in love with you and loves pulling your hair as it feeds into his perverted fantasies. btw, donghyuk is haechan's real name © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

Haechan is hopelessly in love with you, a secret he vowed to take to his grave. However, his misguided attempts to gain your attention had spiraled out of control. What began as innocent teasing morphed into malicious intent. He has gone too far now. There is no going back. Over the years, he subjected you to relentless bullying: mocking you with derogatory names, spreading false rumors, and cornering you against his locker to threaten you. For as long as he had known you, he couldn't recall a single moment when he had treated you kindly.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to..” he loves hearing you plead for forgiveness. Tears welled in your eyes as he pulled your long luscious hair, your eyes looking up at him with an innocence he couldn't ignore.

“A slut like you should know when to keep their dirty mouth shut.” he says, looking down on you. You looked like a mess. A hot mess. You’re on the floor, tears running down your face as heavy breaths left your lungs after the assault. When he goes home, he would picture this exact image of you in his head while mercilessly stroking his dick. He would imagine ramming his dick into you while pulling your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze. It was the primary reason he enjoyed pulling your hair during confrontations.

Everyday, he would follow you home after school. It didn't appear unusual since his house was only a few blocks away from yours. You never thought much of it. Each time you entered the safety of your home, you assumed he would just keep going until he reached his own. But oh…how you were wrong.

Haechan would always linger around you at a close proximity. Your bedroom is on the first floor, facing a large oak tree, his favorite hiding spot. Peeking through the leaves, he watches you through your bedroom window. You’re sitting on your bed, reading a book. You look so peaceful. So beautiful. Whenever your hair gets in the way, you tug the strands behind your ears, revealing more of your neckline each time. Occasionally, he would take photographs of you as you undress, showing it to his friends as "evidence" of your supposed slutty behavior, but primarily keeping them for his own twisted satisfaction later on.

Haechan knows better than everyone that you’re anything but a slut. He doesn't even think that you have had your first kiss yet. Over the past year, he's spread rumors about you sleeping with countless older men, intending to dissuade other boys from showing interest in you. In truth, you're a devout church-goer with a deep love for immersing yourself in books and fiction. But still, he loves calling you a slut. The humiliation that marks your face each time he calls you those names does wonders to him.

—

An intense heatwave has gripped the town. The scorching sun felt like it was searing your skin as you used a book to fan yourself. This summer break, aside from working at your cousin Kun's restaurant, you hadn't accomplished much. During your shifts, Haechan would consistently appear, each time accompanied by a different girl. What a manwhore, you thought to yourself.

“If you feel as though he is bothering you, I can take his table. Just slice the salmon for me and keep an eye on the fryer.” Jaehyun offers, extending his knife to you. As your fingers lightly touch, a swarm of butterflies stirs in your stomach. You've harbored feelings for Jaehyun for some time. He's tall, amiable, strikingly handsome, and an exceptional chef. He embodied everything you desired in a boyfriend. Though only a few years older, he appeared to have everything figured out.

From a distance, Haechan observed your exchanges with Jaehyun. Not paying any attention to the girl he was on a date with. He took note of your hearty laughter at Jaehyun's jokes and the way your face flushed crimson with every compliment he paid you. Saying Haechan was jealous would be a severe understatement; he was profoundly possessive over you.

—

The community you live in organized a grand gathering, and by chance, your parents had offered to host the entire event in your backyard. Such events were never to your liking as you would panic at the social interactions. Worst of all, lee donghyuk was present at the event. You seek refuge in your room, after hours on end, having to endure awkward conversations.

“Why did you cut your hair, Y/N?” Haechan stands in front of your bedroom door. He stared at you intensely, noticing how your hair falls right at your shoulder, revealing your pronounced collarbones. He suspected you might have cut your hair based on the conversation he had overheard between you and Jaehyun a few days ago, where Jaehyun expressed his preference for girls with shoulder length hair. It seemed evident to him that you were attempting to align with Jaehyun's preferences, which angered him greatly. “Yes, why do you care?”

“Is it because you can’t just grab onto it as easily anymore?” The words you just uttered struck him with the realization that you might have uncovered his dirty little secret. He restrained himself from showing any emotion. Keep it cool. Keep it cool. You’re probably just being paranoid, he tells himself “Huh, What a big mouth. Why would you say that?”

“You obviously have something against me. I mean, every day at school, you pull my hair and shove me against your locker," you state, setting your book on the surface of your nightstand. He steps into your room, wearing a deeply unsettling grin, and closes the door behind him.

"Why do you think you can just come into my room, DongHyuck?" You ask sharply, rising swiftly from your bed. You urgently sought an escape from the situation, but Haechan's imposing stature blocked your exit.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N.” He gets a rough grip around your neck, pushing you into your bookshelf. Once again, he noticed the familiar panic in your eyes, a sight he disturbingly loves.

“You think I won’t be able to man-handle you just because you cut your hair short. Well, think again.” His grip around your neck gets tighter and tighter. You were no longer registering his words. His words became a distant echo as your mind retreated to a different realm. He has never grabbed onto your neck before. It was certainly a new sight for him, a sight he was going crazy for. The way your hands grab onto his wrist, desperately trying to ease his grip, and the way your eyes almost fall shut by the intensity of the situation. It all turned him on so much.

He gradually loosened his hold on your neck, observing as you gasped for air and color that returned to your face. As you caught your breath, Haechan abruptly pressed his lips against yours. The fervor of the kiss was overwhelming. He bit down on your lips with force, leaving a faint metallic taste behind. His patience has ultimately run out.

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rosiesmuts · 8 months

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Queen

BLACKPINK Rosé

Words: 1,700

Tags: 🦶

A/N: Just a quickie as thanks for getting Surprise and Dangerous Game to 1k. One took 1.5 years the other not so much lol. 🥺

You're not even that into feet.

But when Park Chaeyoung tells you to kneel before her, you fucking kneel before her.

She tells you that you can worship her feet if you really adore her that much, and you nod so vigorously it kind of hurts your neck. She watches you unravel, a goddess lounging on her black throne.

She smiles almost cruelly as she dangles her big toe in front of your face, watches you pucker up your lips for a kiss—Rosé rolls her eyes like you're being funny, so you open your mouth so she can press it against your tongue. Rosé says that you look so desperate to worship her and you nod again, clumsily trying to kiss and lick her toe. You manage it anyway, all worshipful like her little bitch, her footboy, her devout, eager-to-please worshiper. You hear Rosé's breath catch—she's going to allow it.

Today's especially ripe, directly after dance practice—Rosé smells exactly the way you expect her to smell. The smell of salt and musk, the way Rosé's sweat gathers in between her toes, the sweat on the soles of her feet and the back of her ankle—it makes her feet slippery, but also oh so soft. You feel the soft pads of her soles pressing against your face, squeezing it in between the expanse of her big and little toes. Rosé presses down just enough for you to feel yourself, feel just how pathetic she makes you.

Your face is buried in them, breathing in deep, catching every scent that permeates from these wonderful treasures—you rub your nose up and down in between the toes, because fuck. She deserves it, she deserves the world and then some.

You breathe so deeply, and then inhale another mouthful—Rosé chuckles as you plant kisses against the pads of her foot, sucking hard just to leave a mark. Your tongue explores all of these wonderful wonders as your hands slowly reach up to worship the other one—the pads of your thumbs start off at the tips of Rosé's toes before you explore her soles with the rest of your fingertips.

The taste, oh so divine, salty, sour, and somehow...sweet? It's even better than candy. Fuck candy. There is nothing better than this, feeling Rosé's feet against your cheeks, pressing up against your lips, adoring how warm it is—they taste better than any flavor a restaurant has to offer. Your worshipful mouth just kisses Rosé's left arch. You keep at it, because nothing is better.

Nothing is better than Rosé's divine feet. Nothing is better than Rosé sitting before you, watching you absolutely break—because Rosé has to know how badly you desire her feet, how badly you absolutely adore these wonderful creations. How desperately you want her, how devoted you are—she just knows it.

Perhaps you are into feet, you think to yourself, getting harder by the second. Or maybe it's just Rosé's feet. Rosé's perfect, pristine, soft, sweaty, sweat-dripping perfect feet. It might just be those feet, the scent, the aroma, the taste—you love it, you adore it, you worship it, you want nothing more than for Rosé to treat you like the footboy you are. Park Chaeyoung, Rosé, Rosie, whatever she likes to be called—you fucking want it. Rosé smells like a foot fetishist dream and she is.

Rosé has you worship both feet now, as though to put your eager tongue to work. She moans above you, eyes closed, hair in her face as she trembles just a little from your worshipful licking. She's trying so hard not to cum from that, from you—but god, if it happens then it happens. Your mouth just can't help itself.

Then Rosé whispers the magical word.

"Stop."

Rosé whispers stop, and you listen. Rosé commands you to stop worshipping those feet, so you fucking listen.

Because when Rosé commands you, you listen.

Because that means the best part is about to fucking happen. The best fucking thing you'll get to experience. The pinnacle of this Rosé experience. That fucking heavenly feeling in your stomach just about to hit a crescendo, the arousal that threatens to spill from your cock. You almost don't even want it to happen this time, because what if it happens and Rosé deems this worship as your last? What if this is the last time you get to worship her feet—because no other pair of feet is the same as her feet, no other person will ever have feet so lovely as Rosé's own.

"Pants off." Rosé commands, and you listen. Your cock nearly jumps at the opportunity. "Boxers, off. Come on, stop looking like a kicked puppy, I won't ban you."

You obey anyway. Rosé just rolls her eyes as she watches you undress—but she bites her lips as she eyes up your erection, nodding. That look tells you you're good enough. You watch her hand press down in between her own legs, and fuck. Fuck. Rosé is wet. Rosé is actually turned on by you worshipping her feet like the absolute freak you are.

A moan escapes her lips, but she lets it anyway. And you're soon to follow, because those perfect fucking feet find themselves wrapped around your cock—Rosé giggles as you let out a cry of surprise and pleasure, because this is the fucking culmination. Rosé's feet. Your hardon wrapped up by Rosé's heavenly perfect feet—the smell still lingers in your nose as she moves up and down on your length. Rosé controls the pace here, as always. Because Rosé can do whatever she likes to you—but your cock is fucking throbbing with every movement Rosé makes up and down your cock.

One plays with balls, the other tracing up and down your base, caressing it like Rosé is appreciating her own canvas, making something out of your cock—it feels so goddamn good, too fucking good—

"Beg." Rosé demands, "Beg me not to stop."

You want those fucking feet to keep moving—they keep moving up and down on your base. She keeps them pressed tight around your cock, enough for Rosé to feel it too. Enough to know that you really have worshipped Rosé's feet to kingdom fucking come.

"Please, Rosé," You gasp, "Keep stroking my cock with those wonderful-" You moan as Rosé's feet press down tighter around your shaft. "You deserve the world, oh my god, this feels so good, please don't stop."

Rosé speeds up—fuck. Rosé starts rubbing those feet even faster on your length and you're crying out in pleasure. Rosé just lets you be her little foot slave, her devout little cock-sock-slash-worshipper as she uses your hardon in the best of fucking ways and you. Can't. Handle. It. Fuck—

Her feet just keep rubbing, rubbing you dry and better, because it's so fucking good, and Rosé is laughing as she hears you beg her to not to stop. Curling her toes over your tip and back to the balls, up and down and squeezing her soles around your base—Rosé doesn't fucking stop as you cry out her name. She doesn't fucking stop until she deems fit and it. Feels. So. Goddamn. Good. Your worshipful body is crying out in pleasure, you're reaching your peak—Rosé notices as your cock throbs.

Rosé speeds up and you break down—it's over now, isn't it? It's fucking over. You don't stop begging as her feet pump you even faster—you're desperate to cum, you're desperate for the best orgasm you'll ever fucking experience.

"Fucking cum." Rosé demands, knowing that you're not long for this world. "Fucking cum for me, footboy—all over these pretty feet." Rosé moves them faster, and it hits you. Rosé commands you—and just like that you cum. You fucking cum all over Rosé's soft, slippery, heavenly fucking feet. It feels just as orgasmic for Rosé—your hot, stringy cum dripping down her perfect fucking arches and toes—her smile widens as you just keep cumming and Rosé milks every last fucking drop out of you, squeezing and shaking your cock—it's over for you. Rosé controls every last bit.

This is Rosé. Rosé owns your cock. Your orgasms. Your goddamn foot-worshipping heart. And it's over. You finish worshipping these perfect feet of Rosé's and you nearly collapse to the ground. You swear your vision nearly fucking spots, because oh my god.

Those feet keep teasing your cock and you think for a second that Rosé wants seconds—you nearly explode with your sensitive post-orgasmic cock. But Rosé withdraws that heavenly sensation, those divine fucking feet. You see them covered in you—you wish you could just watch her lick the cum off of it herself, but there's something beautiful about this picture itself.

She examines them, and lets out a chuckle—she inches closer to you, until your exhausted ass manages to kneel before her throne—Rosé just smiles and leans in.

"Feed it to me."

She sticks out her tongue. Fuck. Rosé is amazing. You scoop up your own cum as you spoon them into her mouth—Rosé savors every one of her delicious treats. One by one, slowly savoring your taste. Rosé looks so beautiful in this moment, her tongue stained with your cum—moaning as she sucks your finger clean. Rosé swallows your cum as she moans once more—that sight, fuck. You're hard again for Rosé. Because of Rosé.

You hear her hum to herself, that beautiful voice ringing into your ear. She sounds so heavenly.

Rosé can do this to you for the rest of your pathetic footboy life.

You finish feeding Rosé your own cum, and you feel exhausted. You fall against her, Rosé giggling as she presses her feet back to your face. Rosé always treats you right. Always. Rosé commands and Rosé gives. You worship her so dearly because you know—Rosé always rewards you.

Because Park Chaeyoung has you wrapped around her perfect goddamn toes.

#blackpink rose smut #male reader #rose smut

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