#I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS PLSSSS SUPPORT

[satoruhour]

need reader to have a confession with priest!geto about how they feel guilty for touching themselves late alone at night and priest!geto helps them by just fucking their brains out as a “penance” for their sins.

yes, i’m okay in the head btw! (lie)

AU REVOIR, O HEAVEN !

wc: 12.2k

warnings: DARK CONTENT, SLOW BUILDUP, CORRUPTION, priest!geto, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, geto in late 20s), long descriptive fic that goes in depth of christian lore, lots and lots of christian references / metaphors / analogies, comparison to Satan’s banishment and fall from heaven, religious themes used in inappropriate ways, questions of religion and life, multiple scenes of f! and m! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, virginity loss, both f! and m! receiving oral, cumshot, praise, degradation, spitting, sex in a religious place, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

for a small town like yours, it was a no-brainer that everyone knew everyone; and everyone’s drama as well. from the baker’s daughter being a whore to the mayor of the town being sacked for purposes that have since been twisted by word of mouth. that was another thing: word got around fast, and it was particularly suffocating in a conservative town such as yours. people were not outright about the obvious choices they favoured, but there was the older generation who were not shy to turn down progressive ideas.

because of that, the previous priest was kicked out because of the misuse of funds from mass collection and offertory. it was one thing to see a bunch of notes missing from the sack and the money counter but it was another thing to see that money going into funding a new strip club that was opening in the next town over.

it was simply unheard of, and the parishioners basically gave him a free ride to that very strip club by excommunicating him from his own church. it was unbecoming of a priest, especially in such a small congregation that everyone made sure the new priest to transfer here was a God-honouring one.

you hope he was. you’ve always felt the obligated need to serve your god and your parents. always the good girl, following the Ten Commandments, saving yourself for marriage. it was the natural order of a christian, and you could only hope that you’d get even a fraction of the eternal life they preach about in mass. but lately you’ve been having some . . thoughts, and you pray that this new priest could help you immensely, even if you had to do a hundred Hail Mary’s at the pews.

it was peculiar, the first time it occurred to you. the area where your body separates into two and forms two legs — the centre of it all, the middle where Eve had it covered in statues and paintings with a leaf, the middle where you had only learned of it in anatomical drawings. you knew what the vagina, cervix and the ovaries were, but seeing the convergence of pink and maroon between your legs confused you, even scared you.

and the next was when you’d had a guy come up to you whilst doing up your university application, saying something along the lines of how cute you were, would you like to grab a drink some time? and you were left dumbfounded and unable to answer. you let your eyes travel over his features, of the exposed arms of his button up shirt and the thickness of his forearms, you let your eyes skim over his plump thighs before you’re asked “are you okay?”

“n . . no sorry, i already have a boyfriend.” you lie through your teeth and all the guy does is sigh before walking away — but now you’re left with a bigger problem . . why was the thing between your legs throbbing? you swear you can feel your panties getting wet as well, but you aren’t quite sure why.

that night you’re lying in bed with a lewd website shining right in your face, as you’ve laid here for about two hours already, going through in your head whether you really wanted to do this. your hands had been clean, untainted from the moment you were born, but you imagine going to university and knowing not a thing about sex and that makes your whole body burn in embarrassment.

you chicken out and fall asleep.

“honey! come down here, i want you to meet someone.” your mother calls out to you, running about like she usually does. she’s always overworking — caring for the newborn, cooking the meals, cleaning the place. why don’t you ask dad to help sometimes? / nonsense! he works so hard and deserves a break! i don’t mind. / but he just lazes around at home after work . .

you’re pleasantly surprised to find a long-haired man at your front door, clad in a thick and loose turtleneck sweater with a gentle smile on his face. that uncomfortable feeling returns to your core and you land a hand to your stomach to calm the churning that’s happening.

“hello, and you are?”

you’d never think you would see one of God’s angels on earth in actual flesh in front of you. you’re convinced God is looking over you and you think you might see heaven when that silky voice repeats himself again.

“hi, kind miss, are you alright?”

“h . . huh? oh! yeah, uhm— who are you?”

your mother smacks you on your shoulder and sidles up to your side, holding onto your arm a little tightly that it hurts just a bit.

“don’t be rude!” she whisper-shouts to you, “this is geto suguru, and—”

“and i’m the new priest for the church.”

that catches you off-guard. he’s the new priest that was just transferred over? he looks anything but a holy man of God, what with his long hair and gauges in his ears; if you didn’t know any better you would think he was the one paying for the strip club instead. he seems to read your mind.

“i know i look . . a bit of a delinquent, miss, but i promise you the word of God is what i strictly live by. i honour and praise him with all that i can.”

“ah, i’m sorry if you thought i thought that way, father.” you mumble, giving him an awkward smile that he misses because he’s too busy focusing on the way you say father. you’re prepared to close the door on him already; the pulsing sensation between your legs isn’t fading and your whole body feels like it burns in hell. you rub your thighs together for some sort of relief, nothing.

“that’s usually the response i get, so i thought i would preface it first.” a little laugh leaves geto’s lips and if it wasn’t for you holding on for dear life on the door, you definitely would’ve buckled under your knees. “no hard feelings.”

“he’s a charmer, ain’t he?” there’s another sheepish laugh from the pastor at that. “told me he’s been going around giving cakes to all the people as a way to thank them for letting him take over the church.” your heart melts at that — he looked so hot and had a heart of gold, too?

“what cake did you get us, father?” you blurt out and you have no time to take it back, but the preacher doesn’t seem to mind. you also don’t seem to mind that barrier of authority that was established ever since he‘s introduced himself as the new priest of the church. it felt . . friendlier, less intimidating than the previous. it was probably mostly due to him not wearing his cassock or collar, though.

“chocolate.” that one word possibly ignited every nerve in you. the smooth lilt in his voice paired with the slight smirk. it was detrimental. you were going to hell, you were condemned to eternal damnation.

“how’d you know i liked chocolate?”

he shrugs, “lucky guess.” wrong.

he had come around the day before already, but you were too distracted with work and pressured with a deadline that music drained out everything else — one look at your side profile and the hard-working first year university student was all it took for geto to return again today with another cake of your liking. oh! you’re such a sweet one for asking what flavour we like; frankly, my dear boy, my husband and i don’t really eat cake but her . . loves it for some reason. i wonder where she gets the sweet tooth from, honestly.

geto could only thank his saviour that your mother had promised not to tell you he already came around yesterday. and it looks like she didn’t.

“i should get going, miss . .”

“(y/n).”

geto simply nods his head, resisting the urge to call your name pretty and only manages a decent call to your mother. “mrs (l/n), i’m heading off, thank you for having me. (y/n).”

you return his smile, hesitantly, inching the door close with immense difficulty — you wanted to see him walk away with that imposing height of his, of the proper gait he carried himself with and the politeness in which he greets people of the town.

that night you locked yourself in your room, muttering out some dumb excuse of having to study for a test when in reality you were more interested in the feeling between your legs. it both excited and scared you when you first find a comfortable position on your bed, stalling for a good half ’n hour before the clinking cutlery of dinner happening downstairs had brought you to your senses. there were countless articles open in your safari tab, none of which helped your growing dilemma — a tear in the Red Sea between the sin of pleasure and the liberation of acting on it. you felt like Moses, treading in the centre, on the fence.

one last text made you yelp out loud.

[8:03 pm, read]: R u coming down 4 dinner?

it was your mother, as if she knew what was happening behind doors.

[8:03 pm, delivered]: nope, sorry mummy. need to study for this test, its important !

[8:05 pm, read]: Alright, alright. I left out a serving of what we cooked tonite. Heat up if u need to with the microwave O.K.? Don’t sleep so late!

you simply favourited her message, losing all motivation from before; until your mind crosses over dinner and goes straight to that chocolate cake, and then to the person who had brought it.

“Farewell happy fields / Where joy forever dwells: Hail, horrors, hail.”

“geto . . geto suguru.” the name feels foreign. it does sound like a countryside name but it felt like he had come from the city instead. “geto . .” you sigh, letting your hands tremble and move along your body. they brush over your chest, over your nipples and you recoil a little from the strange feeling. they harden under your touch as you continue to repeat his name.

each murmur of his name is a step farther from God, dipping your toes into the waters of hell as your fingers travel lower, lower, lower. you press a finger against your clit unknowingly, and you let out a loud moan; you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

but the pleasure’s too much, and so you try again. one hand goes back to your nipples, squeezing your tits and playing with them while your fingers rub pathetic circles along your core.

“su . .” you gulp. “geto—”

you pant softly to yourself as you continue to rub your clit, messy, inexperienced circles in whatever shape or form. as long as it felt good to you, you were doing it. you made sure to keep your moans in as your hips bucked into your hands, back arching off the bed in needy movements. your hands were getting tired, clutching at the bedsheets.

long hair, built physique, crucifix on his neck. funny, you never noticed that before, but now you imagine it clearly, dangling over your face. you’re imagining geto fucking you, thrusting his cock into you as he groans out your name.

you’re at the end of your tether, feeling the deep plunge of your body in Satan’s lair the same time you cum for the first time in your life and your body shakes so violently. you flail around on your bed, bite into your shirt, anything to keep you quiet from the immense orgasm you had just felt. your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand aches so much it might fall off, but it just feel so damn good that you only have a minute’s rest before you’re rubbing at your clit again.

scooping up a little of your cum, you marvel at the clear liquid, sucking on your finger to try the thing that’s always drenched your panties. and soon you’re conjuring the image of the long-haired priest yet again, never really studying for that test you made up or even eating dinner — all you do is rest and come again, each time more wrecked than the last time.

you dreaded going to church the next morning.

it had slipped your mind that service was to continue once geto has gotten settled down in the rectory, a small outhouse at the back of the church that had been revamped. you’re not sure on how father geto was able to get it done up so fast but, you’re not one to question.

with the short walk to church, you regret not eating the night before, groaning softly at the discomfort of your growling stomach. what you were more worried of though, was what would happen to you once you stepped foot in the church. was your body going to go up in flames? were you going to get ridiculed by the townspeople? were you going to get called out by father geto in front of everyone?

“what’s gotten you so worked up?” your father was walking behind and smoking, as always, not giving a shit about your mother and the newborn.

“nothing . . just, wondering if i got everything in my head for my test.” your mother coos, and your baby brother in the carrier thinks it’s because of him. he babbles into your mom’s shirt, giggling.

“you’ll do fine, honey,” the reassurance worried you only more. you were lying outright — you had no test, you weren’t even studying, you were busy—!

“i raised a smart girl, didn’t i?” you can only manage a smile, reaching the church within minutes. taking the chance to mutter a short prayer and a plea, you take a deep breath and that light from above Lucifer’s kingdom seem to call out to you again.

stepping into the simple but cozy church, you dip your hands in holy water. Father, Son, Holy Spirit along your forehead, chest and shoulders before you trail behind your mother, suggesting places for you to sit at the back. she only waved your hand away, pointing towards the front. we always sit at the front! why the sudden change? / nothing . . maybe thought we could switch it up a little.

the mass starts after a few minutes of waiting, and you have the luxury of wallowing in your self-pity and guilt for those few minutes, trying to get the very filthy imagery of father geto above you, father geto between your legs, father geto himself out of your head. you fail, it’s only amplified when the bell rings and the congregation stands up.

everyone waits in anticipation for the new priest in this small town, hoping he won’t disappoint them like the last one. but they already seem to be in good spirits as he makes the entrance down the very short church. two altar boys follow behind him in the procession, accompanied by an organist and a duo of choir singers, straining to have their voice heard over the loud instrument. he’s already made some friends, nodding to the excited kid who whispers and the shy girl who waves her hands at him. but while everyone feels anticipation in hopes of a good sermon, dread is only making your legs feel like lead, you feel lightheaded, dizzy even.

because whatever you had imagined last night was him in his sweater get-up, and it just now sinks in what a disgusting thing you were doing as you watch the rich purple of his chasuble sway alongside his stole — the very image of him in his priest robes (in Lent season too, not to mention) — meant to deter you from more thoughts, only fed your desires.

geto suguru made being a pastor look so natural, and attractive, that it was almost criminal.

“good morning, brothers and sisters, how are we all doing this morning?” there’s a few murmurs around, but geto doesn’t falter, instead pressing on with his very convincing, beautiful speech; as does he with the rest of the mass. he conducts himself with as much professionalism as he can, handling the Eucharist with proper hands, giving a sermon whilst giving you too many eyes, distributing Holy Communion with a gentle, accepting smile; your skin burnt when he handed you the body of Christ, a soft inaudible “amen” hanging off your lips.

father geto was all the talk after, some hanging around to catch a minute of geto’s time if they could and you were no different, purposely looping your arm through your mother’s and slowly down your pace.

“goin’ out for a smoke.” your father gruffly tells the three of you, two of which understands better. your newborn simply cuddles deeper into your mother’s breast, humming softly into the nap.

“’kay.” it was opportunistic, now, as your eyes flit around the place to find geto talking to two older ladies. he’s politely bent down to reach their heights better, chasuble now removed and simply in his alb, one patting his shoulder and the other giggling. you think you imagine it but his eyes dart over to you for a moment and then off to the other parishioners.

“how are you two lovely ladies doing?” you hear him before you see him and the voice startles you a little, jumping back from brushing your baby brother’s almost non-existent hair.

“fine.” it comes out kurt and abrupt and you burn when your mother nudges you like yesterday.

“think what she means is that we’re perfectly fine. how was your first mass?”

father geto looks around the church, recalls the altar boys, ingrains each church-goer into his head, “i hope the congregation likes me.”

“oh, nonsense! i’m sure they do,” your mother reassures. she was always good like that, putting others before her and making sure they see the best in themselves, “that was a very riveting sermon you delivered.”

“yeah—! yeah, i . . really enjoyed it, father geto.”

a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, “did you now?”

you nod, and he continues, “you enjoyed me telling you that sin was revolting?”

when he phrases it like that . . you swallow, “isn’t that what God’s whole schtick is?”

and that makes father geto laugh, because for such an innocent flower like you, you make it sound like you were forced to go to church and made to learn the basis of why God exists and now you just don’t know what to do with it. it’s common for people at their university age where they’re exposed to more views and mindsets, to question the religion you were born in and think about what it meant to be tied to a god you didn’t even really know existed, and when that happens, Christianity turns stagnant and boring.

“yes, pretty much, miss (y/n), but His schtick also involves forgiving anyone who has sinned against Him. after all, that’s what He died on the cross for.”

“y . . yeah, i know, father geto.”

you only realise now his purple chasuble matches his eyes, eyes that swirl with the colours of amethyst. they’re much brighter in the parish lighting, and they hold your stare much longer than yesterday. there’s the tugging feeling at your stomach again that goes right down to your centre and it throbs; your eyes flutter and blink to get you out of your head.

“good that you know . . of course, it’s not an invitation to sin. self-restraint and chastity still exists,” you hate how he puts an emphasis on the latter word, because he could be referring to anything, “but we need not be worried for our lives. we only need to pray and repent in prayer, and God will have mercy on us.”

but well, if God didn’t want you to sin, how then can he explain creating such an attractive person? if God valued his followers’ self control, why did he have to plant such lewd, inappropriate thoughts of his preacher in your head?

father geto could probably see your dilemma with how hard he was staring at you, and he only makes it worse by putting his larger hand on your left shoulder. it descends deeper to your upper arm and the skin there ignites—

“i hope you liked the chocolate cake.”

you manage a small smile, “haven’t had the chance to try it, sorry, father.”

“don’t apologise.” you forget your mother and baby brother is even beside you with how he talks to you. you’d love to be on his chest, hearing the deep rumbling of his voice or even have his hands be somewhere else but your arm. you don’t know how simply talking to you has got him doing everything in his power to restrain himself; not even a prayer from God could help.

“The mind is its own place, and in it self / Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.”

what you don’t know, either, that the hand on your shoulder was between his legs just last afternoon, trying so hard not to sneak under his cassock. he could barely keep his moans in, palming his bulge from above his robes at the mere thought of you. no touching means less sin, right? he comes to that pathetic conclusion easily, so all he does is bury himself in the outhouse after distributing his cakes, hips positioned over his pillow and he grinds.

the feeling for father geto was so archaic, been so long since he’s given up his life to God right after graduating university. all the carefree times that he’s experienced — drinking in dorms, going to parties, getting some nice quick fucks in between exams — were going to stop for good. but that doesn’t mean he stopped lusting.

lust. one of the seven deadly sins, a weak point for father geto’s journey as a pastor. it’s obvious now too that he hasn’t really left his older ways, bucking his hips into the fabric of his pillow. he thinks of you, your sweet little eyes and your cute outfit at home, he thinks of your face twisted into pleasure as he’s positioned between your legs.

father geto twitches, friction against the underside of his cock feeling so good after years and years of holding back — with a pretty face to think of, too. his hips ruts in short thrusts, desperate for that high and he chokes on a moan imagining your sweet voice begging to cum. and so does he, shooting such a large, hot load into his underwear that even his cassock is stained with his cum. but unlike you, he’s already thinking of his next round — if he’s doomed to die by lust, then might as well go all the way.

father geto spares a glance towards the door just to be safe before flipping over on his back, and pulls his robes above his lower half. the sight is dirty, underwear painted a darker colour and cum sticking to every part of the fabric. once he wraps a hand around his cock, geto is gone, pumping it so fast he might have gotten a burn along his length but it’s all rewarded by the second quick orgasm he reaches — spurting ribbons of cum all over his holy garments.

it’s why he didn’t have time to write a proper sermon for the morning mass. he was up all night, stroking himself — just, from the thought of you.

it was father geto’s turn to have uneven breaths as you asked if he was okay, hand on your shoulder shaking. but the visions of last night is overtaken quickly by his need to impress the other parishioners, and so he gives you a tense smile.

“enjoy the cake.” it sounded like an innuendo if you’ve ever heard one, but you mutter a soft thank you, before heading off back home with your family. that contact with your shoulder is all you can think of, giddy at the warmth of his hand and eyes.

“baby, could you open the door for me?” your mother calls out to you, hastily wiping her hands on her apron and abandoning the kitchen to tend to your crying baby brother.

“ok, mummy!” the doorbell’s been rung twice now, jogging a little to the door to prevent the person from waiting. you didn’t think to look through the peephole, a tight-knit (conservative) community made you trust anyone, opening the door to find father geto standing in front of you.

“o-oh. hi, father . .?”

he was dressed in his roman collar, a black shirt with a white strip around the neck and some black jeans. it wasn’t as casual as the first day, and it still held an ode to God even on a weekday.

“hi, (y/n).”

“ohhh! it’s father geto, come, come!” your mother bellows throughout the house, baby brother on her hip as she bounces him to get him to stop wailing. “are you hungry already?”

geto displays a meek smile, “a little, mrs (l/n), since you mentioned how big of a feast you were cooking.”

your mouth drops in recognition; was that why she was so preoccupied for the whole day? doing the maximum in the kitchen not just because it was for your father’s recent promotion at his job, but also for dinner with father geto.

“you’re having . . dinner with us.” it’s more of a statement to yourself than a question to the priest, but he still catches on and assists you by closing the door himself, and taking off his shoes. already, he looks part of the family, looking like a hard-working husband coming back from his job to you. instead, he’s answered the vocation of priesthood, and not matrimony.

“it looks like i am.” it’s such a sly comment, like he already knew the effect he had on everyone. this sucking up was just to get every church-goer to like him more, and it’s working.

geto is charming at the dinner table as he is at the parish, cracking jokes that make both your parents and you laugh, talking about his university life and telling a myriad of stories that he’s gone through.

“what did you major in in university, father?” it felt such a weird question, especially with an honorific attached to something that you were doing at the moment — it felt out of place that someone so close to your age was already pursuing a lifetime commitment of serving God.

“my studies focused mostly on philosophy and theology. i minored in linguistics.” there’s a chorus of ooh’s that echo throughout the table, cleaning up the last bit of food on his plate before he continued. “i’m currently going more in depth for latin, which is a stunning language, beyond those who say it’s dead and should stay dead.”

that only makes him hotter, and you cross your legs beside him, looking at him from the corner of your eye at you play with the last meatball on your plate. the sauce leaves a trail of red from the tomato, somehow mirroring the murder of your old self — or what you thought it was. it was more of a knife wound, a cowardly stab in the arm.

that dinner with father geto only deepened your sense of guilt.

it was the way the priest was quick to stand just as your mother does, offering to help with cleaning up the dinner table. even when she brushes him off, he insisted, answering for her when he only silently takes the plates to the back. all your mom does is shake her head with a smile, letting you help as well. your father just watches curiously, entertaining the baby with his canned alcohol.

“i’m embarrassed i can’t fight back against you well enough to stop ya from cleaning up at my own house,” your mother confesses, already having used her last breath to tell him to not help with the dishes as well. you scrub at a stain on geto’s plate over and over, a stubborn one at that until you finally are able to get it out. it still leaves a faint red glow, though.

“it’s nothing, really, mrs (l/n), i’m happy to help whenever.” father geto’s eyes rake over your figure as you clean alongside your mother, heel bouncing up and down; to non-existent music or in impatience he wasn’t sure.

she just takes the soapy plate from your hands with a laugh, “c’mon, it’s okay, my dear. go entertain father geto.”

it was the way his courtesy shined through when he doesn’t enter your room until he has gotten verbal confirmation from you, guiding him in with a uneasy hand as he looked around your quaint little space. it was filled with photos, some plants, tons of research papers and a messy table to match, but all he did was reassure you. you take note of his flowing hair and the laid back hairstyle he liked to don when it wasn’t for mass.

“how is university treating you?” you’re stuck on being completely honest and lying with every answer, but father geto has a face that makes it difficult to lie to.

“it’s . . alright, i guess,” you settle on your bed, crossing your legs and hoping he wouldn’t pick up any of your essays. thinking is manifesting, though, and his hands naturally go for the paper with the many red markings on the front page.

“Paradise Lost? by Milton?” ah. that paper. you shoot up from the sheets before he can read it, because frankly your thesis in that paper was weak and wasn’t well supported, but you still believed it deeply. you were just having a little bit of trouble straying from your reverence for God. you only manage to clutch the top of your paper, but geto is adamant on reading it, piqued by genuine curiosity.

“the retelling of Milton’s Paradise Lost humanises the experience of Satan’s (or Lucifer’s) fall from glory . .” he trails off, reading over your evidences and analysis. you feel like you’re being read like an open book, laid out bare for vultures to pick at and for God to enumerate your sins until you felt no shame.

with his head still tilted down, father geto has to look up through his lashes and bangs, seemingly making you cower more and more in your spot as the unsolicited advice for your essay dies down on his tongue. the size of his hands has you hypnotised, and he decides it’s against his own values to give feedback about a text he so childishly brushed off when he was in university, even if he had to read it to complete four years in the seminary. geto places a hand upon yours and the heat is dizzying; you can’t help but think if he was just normal person, instead, holding your hand like this.

it was the way he let you explain yourself a little better through your own words. it was a premature essay, anyway, made to test out your close reading and citation skills. but he found your interpretation of Milton’s poem to be much more insightful than he expected it to be — you think maybe, your understanding of the text grows the more you learn about your body, how you like to be pleasured; you feel like Lucifer.

“i . . don’t necessarily think you are born into evil. it’s multi-faceted and loaded, this question. God our Father would do anything but create evil willingly, it’s just unfortunate that the people that bring up their offspring contribute to the shaping of their identity and outcome.”

“then, how . .” your lips twist as you think of a way to word the question, “how would that justify evil existing? wouldn’t the fact that evil is developed somehow meant that God created evil in some shape or form, in the first place?”

father geto rushes to answer but—

“why did he have to create the serpent that tempted Eve in the first place? couldn’t he have just left them alone in Eden?”

“...there to dwell / In adamantine chains and penal fire / Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.”

you frown, not expecting the other to answer but instead just wallowing in your thoughts. you never thought the talk with father geto would turn into some philosophy lesson, but the more you chatted with him on the bed, the more the conversation seemed to steer that way.

your own faith wavers in the night, a quietness settling over the two of you like a cloak of stars. the mass of each star weighs heavily with your questions up in the air until you faintly hear his answer.

“i don’t . . know, miss (y/n).”

“ah! no no— sorry to dump everything on you, father geto,” you scratch the back of your head, “it was just passing thoughts. i’ve never thought to think of this before.”

it was morbid, it was macabre. it was like looking over and seeing a skeleton in your place instead of flesh and skin and yet each question after question ignites something in him that no one has excited before. he can already feel lust influencing the other six, pumping through his veins at a life void of God, void of religion, a free place to think of the omnipotence of a higher being that no one was sure really existed.

“it’s okay . . it’s natural to ask. it’s natural to inquire. God,” he nods like he was in a trance; the word feels weird on his tongue, “God would want this.”

that night you did anything but sin, clutching the essay between your hands and digging your knees into the floor with elbows on your bed until they ached and you prayed. you wished blessings on your family, you wished blessings on the parishioners, you wished blessings on father geto and you wished eternal damnation on yourself.

there’s a heavy pull on your heart when you go to sleep a few minutes after and the dream you have of your body turning to soot and burning with each feet into flames makes you crave salvation all the more — like all a bad dream, it will be fine as long as you pray, and pray, and pray.

but the flesh desires what the heart denies: the more you ‘hang’ with father geto (by God, he was perfectly okay with that word when you let it slip to your mother. he merely throws up a peace sign in a ‘cool’ way and then immediately cringes, but it makes you laugh), the more you find yourself attracted to his morals, to his ideals, to the natural way in which he exists. he could speak for hours on end, voice sounding like birdsong and a chilling breeze all at the same time.

his voice did wonders in your head, as well, coaxing you into betraying your own code; and you betray it easily. that phantasmic voice leaving you to remove your top and pinching your nipples as soft little moans leave your mouth. the imaginary sway of his crucifix above your face while you harshly abuse your clit and dip a finger into you for the first time. the feeling is so foreign and weird that you shamelessly think of the slight lilt of his voice helping you: “it’ll feel better soon, (y/n). c’mon, finger your pussy for father geto.”

father geto had a natural talent for talking and preaching. that downturn of tone like hitting a dead-end when he holds a point above your head (“but”) and then resolves it into perfect cadence like chords ending a phrase when he proposes a solution (“God will take care of everything”). he does it so much you think he’s rather convincing himself more than he’s convincing you, though.

“perhaps this parable that Jesus uses tells us rather to look within ourselves, to look within the vineyard that is us. the owner have done everything: kept the roots tied so it would not be trampled, making sure they get all the sunlight and water it needs, yet . .” he pauses a little, looking at the almost full parish now that he’s won over the hearts of your town. his eyes flit down to you at the second pew, shooting you a quick smile.

“and yet he yields sour grapes. we pray, we act civil and diplomatic, we are giving, but are you truly doing it for the glory of God? is that maybe why we only get the sour grapes — not satisfied with the ‘thank you’ after doing a favour or silence from God after praying daily?”

geto looks over the last bits of the scribbled sermon, a little more coherent than last week, but still done with thoughts of you. there’s multiple smudges of his words that he has to squint and stutter a bit, caused by the frantic cleaning of his cum upon the paper.

“we all . . naturally expect things back, but to be Christian, to be a follower of Christ, we would have to abandon all thoughts of that.” father geto’s mind wanders to last night as his eyes look for you again. “we would need to be generous, to be kind without needing anything in return.”

father geto integrates into the church easily, shown in how his sermons capture the hearts of many. albeit, they never really take in the true meanings of the preachings he gives, but it’s enough for geto if they nod and mutter amen like fools in mass; whatever they do out of it is out of his hands.

but along the many preachings he does, there is one subject he fears approaching: lust, the one thing that threatens the downfall of his vocation and yet he cannot get enough of it. each walk and meeting with you only heightens his desire, makes his cock throb beneath his robes. each sunday he wishes he could split his soul in half — one as the confessor and one as the confessing — and repent in the confessional box.

“today’s gospel from Mark, chapter 6 talks about lust, briefly.” there’s a shake in his voice, eyes now scrambling over the congregation to find you in a much more revealing top contrasting with the out-of-place cardigan you have on. he’s sure it was mrs (l/n) that had made you put that on before you left the house; the house where he’s memorised the placement of your shoe rack and how your door creaks when it’s opened too quickly. geto is so fucked.

geto clears his throat before continuing, seeing you adjust your body for a moment, “King Herod is tempted by his flesh when he sees one of Herodias’ daughters dancing, so much so that she tempts him to commit murder. a clear beheading, just from giving into her body, and when she asks of him, he delivers like a dog. this calls us to truly think of the desires that we possess. they need not be sexual,” soft whispers emerge, a taboo subject, “they can also be related to money, to power.”

“lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust,” geto is sweating by now. he pulls lightly on his collar when you press your arms together in retaliation and he has to look away from the way your tits perk up so perfectly.

you had to know what you were doing, surely. partially — you were feeling cold, but you stifle a smile when you realise how geto’s eyes linger a little longer on you, or rather your chest, before he coughs and continues,

“when we are driven so terribly by the feeling that we abandon all morals just to please this person, thing on earth is when we tread into dangerous territory. no earthly possession must make you feel this way,”

the irony settles in his bones after he says it and his dick twitches at the thought of having you under the podium right now, sticking his fat cock down your throat while you struggle to keep the gagging noises to a minimum.

“no matter . .” a gulp, “how rewarding the aftermath must be.”

father geto knows you both are braving the edge of God’s merry kingdom. it is just a matter of who falls first.

“your place is in the kingdom of God, meant to fulfil eternal life with Jesus and the Lord which is what we all should be keeping in mind and working towards, ignoring all the distractions that will soon fade and die off.”

geto coughs again in the mic and breaths shakily, finally tearing his eyes away from you before he concludes the sermon and eases into the Offertory and Eucharist. he buries himself so deep in the procession in order to get you out of his mind, and it’s shown in the haste in which he carries the mass. it feels like he rushes so much that even the day outside follows too, because evening seems to arrive earlier than usual.

the sun sets outside, illuminating the altar. it taunts you like reminding you of the beauty of your faith; it deepens the need developing in your core.

“body of Christ.” you can faintly hear it being repeated over and over at the front, just a few steps away from your turn and you wish you weren’t standing behind your dad’s hulking figure so you could actually prepare yourself for father geto. you’re greeted with his cascading hair tied up into a bun and the cup containing Jesus’ body, gold and shining. you see your stretched reflection before your eyes snap back to the pastor in front and you will your hands not to hail routine.

instead, you stick out your tongue for the father to put the communion on and you take in the little panic of his hands and the choked sentence of body of Christ. his eyes drift down to your pink tongue, to the small twitch it does when he places the host on it and he cannot wait for you to get out of his sight, lest he be overtaken by the sin he particularly preached about just minutes ago.

“any test to study for tonight, darling?” your mother asks after dinner, meaning to ask after seeing you be so fidgety like you needed to be somewhere.

“uh . . no, not exactly, but i do have something i need to do.”

“oh! what is it, sweetie?” she doesn’t read your expressions, you mannerisms, so you were safe from that, but you willed your voice to not break. your body is on fire, you needed to quell your needs, now.

“just— i promised father geto i would meet him later for a confession, since he’s so busy, he could only propose a late timing,” no, you didn’t. either way, you give a reason, explain yourself before she can speculate, works every time.

“oh, okay . .” she trails off, seemingly unaffected, “just don’t get home too late, alright, darling?”

you nod even though she’s too focused on the dishes, pressing a hand to her back in thanks and she carries on, carefree, while you sprint to your room. lock the door, get your phone out.

“ . . ings turns into greed when we act on that initial lust . .” the words recorded just hours ago leave the phone speakers on a low volume, already lighting a flame in your pussy when your hand brushes over the microphone and he stops at the same time, “when we are terribly dri . .”

you sigh loudly when your hand starts to make its way down to your centre, rubbing slightly to the sound of his voice. your clit is just begging to be touched, begging for your inexperienced hands flicking your nub in every which way. impatient, your hands dip into your cunt and your jaw drops open at the intrusion of your fingers, just as your eyes widen and your imagination has never worked as well as it does now.

you can see geto’s amethyst eyes boring into yours, you can see his hips fucking into yours and yet it doesn’t give you the same kick as you think it would — you’re fucking yourself with your fingers even faster, circles on your clit increasing in speed and messiness and you smear your juices all around.

“father— father geto—” it was pathetic, the way you moaned for a man of God, but the feeling of your cunt clenching around what you wished was his dick was too good, the coil in your stomach still feeling rather uncomfortable but welcoming and you’re unravelling with a silent scream soon, back arching off the sheets.

“s . . suguru, f-fuck,” the swear word feels weird on your lips, as with his first name, but the trembling of your virgin body is so delicious that you just keep rubbing and rubbing, taking so long to come down from your high as your pants get heavier and heavier. and then his face starts to fade off, eyes turning into lilac air and you’re glancing towards the crumpled essay on your bed with guilt festering in your chest.

“ . . mptations of the flesh are childish, are temporary. they lead you to do foolish things that have no place in the kingdom of God. we may repent and put it past us but the memories that our tainted bodies possess, they remember the sinful things that you did.” the recording of father geto dies out as with his powerful conclusion, speaking so loudly into the mic that it screeches with feedback, you remember. you don’t even know where the guilt builds up from, in your torso and your heart, despite questioning the faith you were in for all your life.

if God did not want us to sin, why did he create temptations and ask us to pray for forgiveness?

you roll over and remove your fingers with a small whine, taking up your phone and opening up the contact with father geto hesitantly. it was meant to be a strictly professional exchange like the conversations he’d had with many other parishioners: updates on the church, changes in mass timings, but your chat was filled with questions from you and answers from him. you didn’t dare ask him anything out of the faith.

[9:37 pm, delivered]: uhm. father geto? are you there?

oh god, it’s you. the you who on the second walk around the town exchanged numbers with him because he found your thoughts so intriguing.

[9:39 pm, read]: Yes, Miss (Y/N). What is it?

you take a deep breath. better to ask for that confession, you couldn’t risk your mother asking about it tomorrow.

[9:40 pm, delivered]: is it alright to have

[9:41 pm, delivered]: can i come over to the church, for a bit

father geto straights up in the rectory, getting closer to the socket where his phone was charging and hovers over the screen. his hands are clammy when typing a response and he manages it in about three minutes.

[9:44 pm, read]: Of course, my dear. The doors of the church are open for the congregation at any time.

bidding goodbye to your mother, you stay on the lit path to the church and you’re bathing in anticipation, too excited to see father geto that you bump into a dark shadow. almost resembling a hard wall, hands emerge from its sides to clutch at your biceps.

“miss (y/n), what is it? what has gotten you up so late at night?” if he was still in university, he would’ve laughed at how he asked that question. hundreds of texts of u up? that mimic the nature of the question right now. 

“i was hoping . .” you ignore the tingly feeling of the way in which his hands leave goosebumps along your biceps and then to your forearms. finally, they clutch your hands between his, meant to be like a warm hug but instead is like fire, licking at your fingers and wrist like you’re at the stake. “i was hoping that i could, request you for a confession?”

the priest across you swallows with a nod, swiftly putting a hand across your back to lead you to the booth. you both could’ve done it perfectly fine in the pews, sitting across each other. “the confessional is where we will feel the strongest compulsion of Christ. come,” he answers your question before you can ask it, “take your place on the kneeler behind the curtains.”

father geto showers in the same sea of anticipation when he makes sure you’re okay before heading over to his side of the confessional. he’s imagined this scene over and over — you on the pew kneeler, breath warming the velvet curtains — he cannot help the bulge that forms.

the first words he speak behind the curtain shock you, voice sounding so close yet so muffled and distant.

“come, now, (y/n), make the Sign of the Cross with me.”

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

upon your head, chest and shoulders you do it, taking a deep breath before you start. “bless me, father, for i have sinned. it has been . . about five years since my last confession.”

geto nods, the soft carry of your voice in the late night having an effect on the priest. the hold he has on the crucifix of the rosary is so tight it makes an indent on his skin, the only thing on mortal flesh to keep him from falling.

“What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield.”

your thighs rub together, hot breath sending chills down your clutched hands and down your arm as you ponder over the things you’ve done — “i’ve . . lied to my mother at times, to my friends when they ask me where i’m from. i have stolen money for my own needs, n-not— that high of an amount but um . . still a fair amount.”

“what did you need to buy, sweetheart?”

the name surprises you, but you simply ignore it. “i wanted new clothes — was all the rave at uni when the girls wore miniskirts and little tops. unfortunately it didn’t suit me.”

geto swears under his breath when the image of you in such skimpy clothing infiltrate his thoughts. his curiosity overtakes him; overwhelmed with emotion, he never had the chance to see what you were wearing before he pulls back the curtains and hopes your eyes are closed and they are: pulled tight with quivering eyebrows. there, like a sinning Christian is you in a thin camisole, cleavage showing beneath your arms. he peers lower, gasps softly to himself when you’re wearing a skirt.

“father? father, what’s wrong?” you think you hear the swift swoosh and the rings of the miniature curtain clatter.

“n—nothing is wrong, miss (y/n). are there any other sins you want to confess?”

you swallow, “i . . i’ve wished misfortune on my father.”

not the sin he was hoping for but he wasn’t surprised; his head moves in understanding. he had seen your father — merely a ghost in the house and hardly contributing to fostering the family. it goes against what Mary and Joseph stands for as the Holy Family, but father geto has seen a lot of absent fathers and incompetency to truly be taken aback anymore.

“i’ve also . . i’m not sure whether to tell you this, father geto.”

your breaths were all you could hear in the silence of the church, an eerie quietness settling as if the critters and animals of the earth strived to listen to your ultimate sin, too. Beelzebub, Asmodeus, possibly even Lucifer himself clawed themselves up from hell to eavesdrop.

“of course you can, my dear.” the wind through the wooden confessional box sounds like the hisses of the three demons, like they have had holy water sprayed on them from the mere sounding of his voice; but they look hopefully for a server of Christ to fall exactly like they did.

“it’s, related to my body, father. i,” gulping, you continue with a prompt from the other, “i’ve had this growing need, like, one has when they’re hungry. they have the need to fill their stomachs. or— or a sudden pain you have to massage yourself through, like a cramp in the arm of sorts.”

“well . . is it your torso or your arm?”

“it’s . .” you spare a glance towards your centre under your very, very short skirt, the familiar pulsing of your clit turning more and more prominent. “it’s related to my pussy, father.”

you hear a choke from the other side, and then you realise your choice of words.

“ah— m-my bad! i meant my . . vagina, father geto.”

“no— no u-uhm, the previous term was fine. could you describe what you did? how far did you go so i c-can . . give you the appropriate penance?”

behind the curtains, geto have already started palming his bulge, massaging the ache in his length that still continues to grow and harden. the way you describe is so terribly innocent and unknowing, a deepening urge to corrupt you running through his veins.

“i played with um— my breasts, first. i pulled up my top and felt around my nipples, but i got impatient and . .” geto hangs on to every word of yours, shifting to get his robes out of the way. it was just like the first night: his underwear stained with so much pre-cum it’s probably changed the colour of the garment. he peels it away and the lack of restraint leaves him sighing softly while you ramble on—

“i tried playing with that . . thing between my legs.” you recall the quick google search from that first night, “i played with my clit, father.”

geto stifles a groan into his hand just as he starts to stroke himself softly. “y . . yeah, and?”

“i tried to um . . fit my finger in. it was uncomfortable, at first,” you cannot ignore the pull of your core; your hand shimmies past the clasped hands and down to your skirt. you have no panties to swipe to the side: you came here without any. your finger rubs gently at the throbbing bundle of nerves, a soft whine leaving your lips before you remember you’re in the midst of a confession.

“but i . . i got it into my pussy soon enough. and then i put in another finger.” there was a more audible grunt from the other side, the confessional weirdly heating up immensely as you follow your confession: two fingers easily glide in from just how wet you were.

“when?” there’s a strain in father geto’s voice when he asks it, maybe because he was trying so hard to keep quiet. his jaw is locked as he pumps his cock slowly because his tip is leaking so much that even a simple movement would give him away.

“w-wha—?”

“w-when did you first start . . touching your pussy, (y/n)?” hearing a priest say such a lewd word makes you clench around your fingers.

“after you came to deliver t-that chocolate cake . . father geto.”

“f-fuck—” geto squeezes his eyes shut and it’s like he’s a university student again losing his virginity for the first time by the hands of some random chick pumping him. the implied confession has him stroking faster; it was after that trip he made to your house, it was after seeing you stand at the door like a good little girl, it was because of him, right? right?

you snap back the curtains and your mouth waters at the scene: father geto hunching over the little window that separates the two of you and his head hung low; his cassock gathers around his hips and his cock— good Lord, his cock was so big, clutched tightly between his left hand. his tip was weeping, an angry red as it continued to push out globs of pre.

“f-father!” geto doesn’t seem to care, giving you a drunk and nonchalant glance as he continues to stroke his shaft. he knows it’s wrong, doing this in the house of the Lord but it feels so fucking good. “y-you—”

you’re at a loss for words, pointing to his exposed bottom, but even though you’re speaking out against him, you can’t help but follow his hand as it moves up and down like a spell. his eyes are simply pleading, hips bucking up and you would think he was a parishioner instead. shaking in the presence of God, in the presence of you—

you stick your hand past the squeezy window, drawing his interest and before you know it you’re blindly bumping into his erection. there, he silently grabs your hand, guiding it to his shaft. he uncomfortably leans down to look at your face, eyebrows still furrowed but your tongue stuck out and his dick twitches in your hand.

“s-shit, baby . .” geto swears under his breath, and again when you pull on his dick to the window. uncomfortably his body lightly slams against the partition, a soft thud coming from the booth as his head collides with the wood, “(y/n) . .”

he can’t see you, but he can hear you. “may i, father geto?”

you don’t wait for his answer, gauging mainly from the heavy breaths coming from above you. they really do need to change the confessional, too, because you can clearly hear every word he mumbles out from the holes in the partition.

“shiiit—” when you kitten lick his tip, collection the pre-cum that continues to leave his tip, and it feels better than his Rite of Ordination and when he finally got to host his first mass. it’s better than that prophetic dream he has of God calling him to serve Him and the churches in the city with church-goers of boring faces and predictable stories.

here was a rural place, a place where he never expected such a pretty girl to practice the Christian faith, only to falter in the presence of a pastor. he’s gotten such a cute little slut to corrupt. you start to bob your head slowly, unsure of what to do apart from putting his cock on your mouth. your teeth grazes his skin a little and he hisses.

“no teeth. suck in your cheeks,” he cannot see you but he wishes he can, and he knows you listen to his advice when he feels only the smooth glide of your mouth and he wishes it was your pussy that you fingered.

“going deeper, darling,” geto grunts when he pushes his cock past your mouth and into your throat, the sweet gag you do making him dig his forehead deeper into the uneven wooden partition. he can hear your struggling sounds, the muffled moans with his cock down your cavern. but he cannot go any longer without seeing you and reluctantly he pushes you off, still holding your hand and you seem to catch his drift soon enough.

you’re as eager as him, bouncing off the kneeler and leaving your side of the booth, and you’re opening the door to his. the reality of the situation fully sinks in, geto standing there with his cock dripping with your saliva and your camisole pulled down under your tits.

“oh . . baby,” geto coaxes you into him, under a little spell of his when you trail in a light as a feather. you don’t resist his hands pushing you down to your knees, and just like earlier, you’re sticking your tongue out and the priest looks at you from under hooded lids.

“did you touch yourself to me, little girl?” it comes out stronger than intended but you seem to like it, even when your answers are cut off by him slapping his tip on your tongue. it’s so heavy, his cock, and thick too that you can help but suckle on it when you get the opportunity.

“ever since that day, father geto.” you look drunk, swirling your tongue around the tip and continuing to talk, “i . . i imagine you above me and sometimes i dangle my crucifix thinkin’ it’s yours.”

a small laugh escapes the priest. “did you now?” it’s reminiscent of the time where you praise his sermon. his laugh is cut off as you continue to suck him off, hands still confused. he helps you by bringing your hands to the places you can’t reach and you follow like second nature. “dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?”

“i promise i didn’t know anything before this . . father.” you look up at him through your lashes, big doe eyes proving every last bit of your innocence. aht, partially. you did watch a video of this chick blowing her boyfriend, cumming with your own fingers in your throat, wishing it was geto’s cock in your mouth instead.

but having a real cock in your mouth? it was divine, better than the body of Christ in melting on your tongue. your ministrations speed up, the obscene noises of you gurgling reverberating in the wooden box late at night. it would be even worse at the altar where it would echo everywhere.

“y—yeah, baby, that’s it, that’s it . .” his eyes are shut tight, intoxicated on the way your warm mouth feels. you whine into his shaft, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in you.

“mmf— mmph!” your moans sends vibrations up his body, interrupted when geto thrusts his hips into your mouth suddenly and your nose meets with his pubes, eyes rolling back from the muskiness of his body. it smells like incense and sweat, filling your senses as he keeps you right up to his hilt.

“ohh . . fuckfuck fuucck—!” the father pulls you off to let you breathe, pleasantly surprised when you start pumping him violently, tongue stuck out again. there’s a hint of light from the outside that highlights the pinkness of your tongue and he’s never wanted to cum this badly before.

“i’m cumming— baby, baby, i’m g’nna c-cum—” there’s a long, drawn out whine from father geto upon feeling the warmth of your hands stroking his cock so obediently, resting his tip on your tongue where you’d willingly drink his cum like wine. geto shoots his load into your mouth and is the loudest he’s ever been; he doesn’t care who hears him, he doesn’t care if he gets transferred out tomorrow, all he wants to think about is you on your knees and your nipples hardened from confessing to him. he’d like to bet that your pussy was drooling too, hips bucking into the soft skin of your hands.

some of his cum gets onto your face and on your lips, and geto almost cums again when you use his tip to smear his seed around your face, sucking lightly on his tip.

“dirty girl . .” he pulls on your biceps to bring you up, and your lips meet instantaneously like you were meant to be separated for eternity, doomed only to meet for one day a year. it’s messy and sloppy, drool drips from your sides of your mouths as your lips merge together.

“was that your first kiss, baby?” father geto can tell by how you don‘t know how to follow his lead, teeth clashing and breathing uneven.

“am i that obvious?” you frown, feeling self-conscious, but geto is quick to reassure you.

“father geto’s going to teach you everything you need to know, alright?” he brings you in with a finger to your chin, hovers over your lips like a tease.

he teaches you everything you want to know and more, like how the front of the church looks like and how cold the marble of the altar feels against your back as he eats you out and the sensations are all too much for you. he teaches you that using God’s name in vain is alright when it comes to moaning out how good he makes you feel and how your penance is whatever he makes it out to be he teaches you how you can take not one, not two, but three fingers up your pussy.

they’re so much thicker than your own, one hand pushing on your shaking thighs to keep them open while his three fingers move in and out of you. you’re leaking so much, your virgin cunt dripping like holy water down the white marble and onto the matching marble floor.

he teaches you his first name and he makes sure you say it.

“su—suguru . . god, r-right there—” he latches his mouth onto your clit, suckling and flicking his tongue impatiently because he just wants to see you cum. your legs stretch out to knock over a candelabra and the clatter of the metal against the ground is enough to wake up a whole village but you. don’t. care.

your hips grind onto his tongue, feeling the borderline painful stretch of his thick fingers in you but they reach all the right spots that you can’t find it in you to care.

“you taste so good—” geto spits onto your cunt and goes back to sucking on your clit, “pussy’s so fuckin’ sweet, holy fuck.” your noises come out of you non-stop as you bury your hands in his hair, finally knowing what you sound like in an unrestrictive space under the apse.

father geto teaches you how to take a cock up your cute, tight pussy, not bothering for a condom when basically all of your clothes have been discarded throughout the night. it’s almost midnight and your mother have fallen asleep on the couch, unaware her sweet, sweet daughter is losing her virginity in the place she was baptised, where she got her first communion.

the first push into your drenched cunt is painful, mushroom tip stretching you out slightly as you clutch tightly onto his forearm, brows knitted together at the girth of his cock.

“been wanting . . to fuck this pussy so bad, baby,” geto grunts it out, obsessed with how his length slowly disappears into you. he can feel each ridge of your gummy walls, hugging him so snugly that there’s several moans that leave his lips, “have you been— thinking ’bout this as much as i h-have?”

your jaw stretches beyond your limit when he eases himself inch by inch into you, thanking the hells below that your vision was finally coming true. above you there’s that same crucifix, sterling silver with amethyst stones embedded into the design, you remember, catching the light of the lone spotlight above the both of you. there’s a similar glint in father geto’s purple eyes.

“all the time, father—” you moan out, pulling him by his necklace to your lips that are more experienced now, each minute that passes is one more atom of your body turning black from the fire that licks at you from below the altar. you kiss the lips of your parish priest, whimpering slightly when his hips buck and you feel the stretch more clearly now.

“is this what Isaac felt when Abraham tried to bind him for a sacrifice on Moriah? helpless, confused, betrayed?”

geto lets out a hum, sucking hickeys into your neck and you think it’s a million times better than questioning a God that never showed himself, who never really had the intentions of the people in mind, who created sin to watch the downfall of men while he enjoys his time in his kingdom.

if this was what was meant by losing yourself to your devils, you would gladly shake hands with Lucifer and hope the warmth of the fire in hell would be a hug warmer than any hug you’ve received by people of the Christian faith.

“well, baby, do you feel helpless?” thrust “confused,” thrust “and betrayed?” thrust

he punctures each word with a snap of his hips and the pain gives way to pleasure and soon he’s already lost in the comfort of your pussy, hips starting a pace easily that emphasises just how wet you are. the echoes of your weeping cunt and the lewd slapping of his balls into your ass is like the bell ringing during mass, loud, resonating, it shakes your whole body.

“mmfuck . . helpless, m-maybe,” you whine out, legs wrapping around his back, “confused, n-not— suguruuu, yesyesyes!”

you try again, “n-not really. betrayed . .”

you feel like a sacrifice, but it was willing, of a confession that has led to this lewd showing of just how much the temptations of the flesh were insanely undeniable. there’s a murmur of i don’t think i can last much longer into your ear, cock driving into your tight pussy so harshly you’re hoping the small altar doesn’t move.

“b-betrayed, i think—” you squeal when father geto angles his hips up and it kisses your cervix just nicely, sending multiple chills down your body. your moans penetrate the holy air, hair splayed out like a painting and geto knows this is better than any Eucharist he’s ever tasted.

you clench around his fat cock, and he twitches, switching to short, pathetic thrusts into your pussy and he cries out your name as he cums deep in you, giving you all of his seed deep in your womb. your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of your first load, the warmth already hooking you in and you pull so hard on his hair he has no choice but to follow your hand.

you let him handle you deep into the night, taking you off the altar and pushing you up against it, entering you again and you brace yourself against the marble.

“s-sorry, sweetheart, you were saying?” he also wants to apologise that he hadn’t made you cum just yet, but your pussy’s so fucking heavenly he just has to be in you again.

“i-i feel a little betrayed,“ you sag over the altar, back arching into his hold. father geto is fixated on the movement of your ass fucking back onto him, “that a priest would break his m-marriage to God for me.”

“i thought they were supposed to be men of God,” you barely manage to form sentences. geto’s laugh at that startles you, as with the hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling. payback. you love it, however, a sweet Christian girl turned into a slut, and the last bits of the thread unravels when father geto reaches around to rub your clit.

“’m gonna— cum, suguru—” you whine out, body turning to mush with how hard he rams into your pussy. by now there’s a ring of white around the base of his cock, your juices slowly starting to coat it, too and Lucifer succeeds at sin yet again.

you cannot blame Eve when the serpent is as beautiful and cunning as geto suguru, nor can you blame her when his thick cock just reaches so deep into you, tip kissing your sweet spots and his hand impatiently drawing messy circles on your bundle of nerves.

“that just makes it the best though, right?” geto breathlessly says, “a holy man fucking a virgin raw in a holy place where prayers are said.” your legs are spreading further and further, his sweaty body engulfs yours, you’re dizzy, “you’re too tempting, sweet girl. tempting enough for me to want to abandon priesthood just so i can be buried in this pussy for fucking eternity.”

and you cum, head and heart going a hundred miles per hour as your body trembles in his hold. “there we go, little slut, thereee we go . .” you can feel the chill of the sterling silver into your back and his smile before he orgasms a second time into your waiting pussy, a second, heavy load let go into your pussy. it’s so warm and filling, and you already want more, more, more.

lust for more things turns into greed when we act on that initial lust.

“aw,” father geto coos at your fucked out face, flipping you around to give you a sloppy kiss and forcing himself to his knees just to watch his cum drip out of you, “does she want more?”

“always, father.” you answer with a drunken smile, putting a leg on his shoulder. again, your finger hooks around his crucifix, and you drag the priest down deeper into hell, somewhere father geto would‘ve always ended up.

somewhere where he would renounce his priesthood and worship something, and someone: you.

“Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.”

a/n: LOOOONG MAN WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. also i put the author’s note at the bottom this time bc i wanted to format of the fic to look the best without my goofy words ruining it! hope you guys liked it :) / tagging @crysugu @omgeto @kazushawty @suguruplsr @hydrovillette @slttygeto @hyomagiri @jabamin

part two ✶

#I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS PLSSSS SUPPORT #ITS 4AM AND I HAVE 9.30 CLASS TMR BYEEEEEE #xozombiee #asks #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jjk geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #getou smut #getou x reader

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐖𝐍𝐁𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hi hi hi could u plssss write paige x team mate!reader inspired by paiges proud facebook mom era at the wnba draft where reader gets drafted to her dream team and is one of the top 3 picks 🙏🙏 i just keep rewatching her vids where shes cheering for aaliyah and nika 🥹 omg if u could also include smthn abt the media coverage after like paige bragging abt reader and them at an afterparty or smthn plsplsplspls 🤍"

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | established relationship, a little angst BUT SOOO MUCH DAMN FLUFF, mention of long distance relationship, mention of drinking, sentimental asf, paige being a softie, nothing else

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

With the 3rd pick in the 2024 WNBA draft, the Las Vegas Aces are proud to select Y/N L/N ─ University of Connecticut.

You couldn't help but be emotional, all night you'd promised yourself you weren't going to cry; your make-up had cost too much money and this was the start of something new, something you had wanted since you could remember. Everything was finally coming together, so why did it feel so bittersweet? As you step onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on you, you take a deep breath to steady your nerves. This is it, the culmination of years of hard work and dedication.

But as you reach out to shake hands with the team representatives, a wave of emotions washes over you. There's excitement, of course, but also a twinge of sadness. You were leaving what you'd known for four years, all your teammates, your coaches, your friends. You wiped your tears as you smiled brightly, swallowing down all the emotion until the end of the night.

"So, Y/N, your coach tells me that the Aces have been your dream team since you were younger. How does it feel, being selected by them tonight and finally getting the chance to wear their jersey?" The interviewer asks, her voice amplified by the microphone.

You take a moment to compose yourself, pushing aside the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You laugh nervously as you blink away the stinging tears. "It's a, uh... a dream come true. As long as I can remember, the Aces have always been my team. To have the opportunity to play for them at the professional level is an honor beyond words."

The interviewer smiles, sensing the depth of your emotions. "Your family and friends are here with you tonight, supporting you every step of the way. How does their presence make this moment even more special for you?"

Your gaze softens as you think about your loved ones in the crowd. You feel your eyes begin to sting with more unshed tears as you blinked them away, another nervous laugh leaving your lips before your brushed away the stray tears.

"Having my family and-and friends here means everything to me," you say, your voice filled with emotion as you swallowed. "They've been my biggest supporters since day one, cheering me on through every win and every loss. My dad, who stayed up late after every loss and talked me through it, and my mom who's always worn my jersey proudly regardless of the outcome of any game, my teammates who have been there with me through every step of the way," you pause as you take a breath to compose yourself as the tears began to fall.

"And my girlfriend Paige who's my number one hype woman," you pause again as the entire crowd cheers loudly, causing a teary laugh to ripple through you. "She's been there for me through it all, always believing in me even when I doubted myself. Paige, you're my rock, and I couldn't have made it here without you."

The interviewer nods, her eyes reflecting the emotion in your own as she laughed. "Wow, that is quite the list. You have an amazing support system behind you!"

"That's right," you reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips despite the tears still lingering in your eyes. "I truly am blessed with an incredible support system. They've been my backbone, my hype squad, and my shoulder to lean on throughout this journey. I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to have by my side."

──

"Paige, what a night it's been," the interviewer begins, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. "Your girlfriend, Y/N, just got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces. How does it feel to witness this incredible milestone in her career?"

Paige's eyes sparkle with pride as she leans forward, a grin on her lips. "It's uh, honestly surreal,"she begins, her gaze drifting towards where Y/N stands amidst a sea of people. "I've watched Y/N pour her heart and soul into the game since the day I met her, and to see her dreams finally coming true is just insane. She's worked so hard for this moment, and I couldn't be happier to see her hard work pay off."

The interviewer nods. "And what do you think Y/N will bring to the Aces as a player?"

Paige's grin widens as she thinks about your talents on the court. "I mean, Y/N is an incredible athlete, first and foremost," she says. "She has this drive that pushes her to always give 110%. But it's not just about her skills on the court because I think that's pretty obvious, with her being picked in the Top Three She's not just really talented, but she's also one of the most dedicated and hardworking players I've ever had the privilege of playing with and knowing,"

The interviewer nods in understanding. "And what can you tell us about Y/N's journey to this point? What sets her apart as a player and a person?"

"She's incredibly dedicated and loyal," she explains as she smiles. "She's faced countless challenges along the way, but she's never let anything deter her from pursuing her passion. As a player, she's not only incredibly talented but also competitive which adds to the whole dynamic of the team. I don't even know how I'm gonna be able to play without her,"

Paige sighs as she looks down, trying to get a hold of her emotions before she gets too emotional. She laughs as she shakes her head, "Sorry, I'm just really proud of her," her voice comes out shaky as the interviewer nods sympathetically.

"You should be, she's an amazing player," the interviewer gives her a sad smile as Paige straightens up. "Okay one last thing, the fans have noticed the matching diamond rings on your pinkies, what are they? Promise rings?"

Paige laughs as she shakes her head. "Something like that, but I got them for her custom made before the draft so she knows I'm always with her, even if I'm halfway across the country. I also just wanted to spoil her on her big day," she shrugged as the interviewer laughed.

"Can we get a closer look?" The interviewer asked as Paige nodded and held out her hand, the camera zooming in on the flashy ring. "It's big, wow. That looks really expensive,"

"It wasn't that much, anything for my girl." Paige shrugged as a smirk enveloped her lips. She turns her hand slightly, the diamond catching the light and sparkling. "I wanted Y/N to have something special to remind her of us, especially as she starts this new chapter of her life. And yeah, maybe I went a little overboard with the diamonds," she admits with a playful grin, "but she's worth every penny."

The interviewer nods in understanding, impressed by Paige's gesture. "It's a beautiful ring, Paige. Y/N is lucky to have someone like you supporting her."

Paige's smile widens, her heart swelling with pride. "And I'm lucky to have her," she replies sincerely. "She's my rock, my inspiration, and my everything."

"Well, thank you for speaking with us tonight, Paige. Have fun with your girl and don't lose the rings."

"Thank you," Paige says with a nod. "And don't worry, these rings aren't going anywhere," she adds with a playful smirk, tapping her pinky where the dazzling diamond rests as she walks away.

──

Paige pulls your hand toward the hotel room, stumbling with the card before she opened it. You both were slightly tipsy, the after-party got a little out of control but none of you had cared ─ two of your best friends had gotten drafted, you were now an official member of the Aces and you had a sexy and supportive girlfriend, you deserved to be celebrating.

Nika, Aaliyah and Azzi were still downstairs drinking but Paige wanted some alone time with you. She hadn't had a moment to really talk to you since yesterday. The whole day was spent in a whirlwind of getting ready, interviews, and photo ops. But now, as Paige ushers you into the hotel room, the chaos of the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

With a soft click, Paige closes the door behind you and her gaze meets yours, filled with a mixture of love and admiration. "Finally, some alone time," she murmurs, her voice low as she draws you closer, her hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin. "I've been dying to have you all to myself."

You can't help but smile at her eagerness, your heart swelling with affection for this woman who means everything to you. "Me too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean in to press a soft kiss against her lips.

She pulls away as her hand gently tugging yours as she guides you to the edge of the bed, urging you to sit down before her. You took a seat as she looked down at you, her hand cupping your face. She took in every detail of your face; your bright make-up, your pretty hair and the dress you wore. You looked beautiful, absolutely stunning in the soft glow of the room. Paige's heart swells with adoration as she takes in the sight of you, her girlfriend, her love, her everything.

"You look absolutely stunning," she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine awe as her fingers trail delicately along your cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful."

Her thumb brushes gently against your cheek, tracing the curve of your jawline as she leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. In that moment, all the words in the world couldn't express the depth of her feelings for you, the way you make her heart race with every glance, every touch, every shared moment.

You both leaned away slowly, catching your breath as Paige's forehead fell against yours. "I thank God everyday that He brought someone so perfect in my life, I don't even know... how I'm gonna be able to breathe with you 2,000 miles away."

"Me neither," your voice came out shaky as tears threatened to fall as you looked up at your girlfriend.

Paige shook her head as her gaze lingered on you. "Don't cry, baby. I'm so fucking proud of you, don't let anything dim that light in your eyes," Paige murmurs, her voice filled with warmness as she brushes away a stray tear from your cheek.

She leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "And until then, we'll make the most of every moment we have together," she murmurs, her voice soft but determined.

You and Paige showered and an hour later, you were in bed in her arms. Wrapped in the warmth of her embrace, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, the worries of the day melting away as you sink deeper into the comfort of her love.

Paige's fingers trace soothing patterns on your back, her touch gentle and reassuring as she presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I love you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I know you're gonna make us proud,"

"I love you too," you reply, your voice soft and filled with emotion as you nestle closer to her, your heart overflowing with gratitude for her. "I know, and I finally made you a WNBA girlfriend."

Paige laughed softly as she grabbed your hand, bringing it up to her lips and pressing a kiss. "You mean wife? Have you seen this damn ring?"

You chuckle softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at the mention of the ring on your finger. "Wife, girlfriend, partner in crime, you name it," you tease, intertwining your fingers with hers. "And yeah, I've seen the ring. It's pretty hard to miss," you add with a playful smirk, admiring the glimmering diamond on your hand.

Paige grins, her eyes sparkling with affection as she gazes at the ring. "Well, I couldn't let my future wife go without a little ice," she quips, leaning in to press a loving kiss to your lips.

As you melt into the kiss, a sense of completeness washes over you, knowing that you're exactly where you're meant to be ─ in Paige's arms, surrounded by love and the promise of a lifetime together.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaaw #ncaa tournament #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #college basketball

[dirtyvulture]

GP!Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: I need female reader with Beefy and G!P subby Nat just completely at reader's mercy with her cock being stroked, they're both sitting on the bed with reader's front supporting Natasha's back amd natasha LOVES to whimper and moan 😵‍💫😵‍💫

PLS OH PLSSSS

AN: I wrote this in 15 minutes. 😄

"What's wrong, Nat? Do you want to watch something else?"

"No, no, it's fine."

"Then how come you're not paying attention?" you ask, knowing full well the reason why she's not. Currently, you and Natasha are sitting on your bed, with her naked and in between your legs. You can hardly see the TV screen around her broad shoulders yourself, but you also can't bring yourself to care what's playing when you have both your arms around her waist, your hands slowly jerking her thick cock.

"I...I'm trying," Natasha pants, her hips bouncing a little bit on the bed as she tries pushing herself through your hands faster.

"Don't move," you warn, purposely slowing your pace and she whines desperately.

It never fails to make you smile to see your girlfriend, the big, tough Black Widow, turn into absolute putty under your touch.

Your hand smears her pre-cum up and down her shaft, your grip tightening around her to enhance the stimulation.

"Please, please," Natasha pants, leaning back almost to the point where her weight pins you against the headboard.

"The more you beg, the longer you'll have to wait," you say. She grunts in frustration, but knows better than to disobey you. She digs her own nails into her muscular thighs, using every ounce of strength she has to not flip onto you and fuck you until neither of you can walk.

You twist your hands in opposite directions around her cock, still surprised at how much of it doesn't fit in your hands and Natasha's body quivers as she moans. Your fingertip traces one of the big throbbing veins beating on the side of her cock and Natasha thinks she's going to faint.

But she's behaved herself, so you know you have to keep your end of the promise and reward her. You pump your fist faster now, rubbing your thumb across her tip with every stroke in a way that you know will have her exploding in seconds.

It works, and her cum shoots out in hard spurts, her thighs flexing as they rise off the bed.

"That's my good girl," you praise, nibbling on her earlobe as she flops back down. "Can you give me another one?" you ask, still stroking her and she can only whimper in response.

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

AN: Please like, comment, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #beefy!nat #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #g!p #natasha romanoff x reader

[danisbrainrot]

omg actress reader x nat? plssss

natalie scatorccio x reader

tw: slight NSFW? they're filming a sex scene but it's not explicit

actually I love this idea! I might start doing a whole yj! actress au. when they're in character everything will be in bold!

pacing your trailer, you nervously bit at your nails; waiting for one of the assistants to come get you was a nightmare. looking up at the clock, you took a deep breath when you saw the time—they should be here any minute now.

a firm knock on the door confirmed your suspicions, "we're ready for you," some called out, causing you to wrap the robe around you tighter. you opened the door slightly and smiled politely at the assistant, following them on set.

there was your costar, natalie scatorccio, waiting for you dressed similarly. she smirked at the sight of you, who was anxiously waiting for the director to instruct how they wanted you in the scene. it was the first sex scene of the movie, where you and her character who'd hated each other the entire movie let their passion take over. you knew it was going to be rough, but your intimacy coordinator had promised she'd be there for you every step of the way.

"natalie can you press y/n against the wall," the director asks, standing behind the camera to see whether the shot would work. you move slowly to where he was pointing, before natalie presses her chest against yours. she winks teasingly, noticing your racing nerves and trying to quell them. you blush, trying to look away. "now, y/n, place your left leg around her waist. natalie can you hold her up?" the intimacy coordinator shoots you a thumbs up and smiles reassuringly.

natalie hoists your legs up, supporting your hamstring. "come here often?" she jokes, prompting you to burst into laughter; her head falls back, as she joins in.

"okay, it works. resume starting positions," the director calls out, covering one ear with his headphones. "in three, two, one. rolling," the clacking sound made the two of you pause, swiftly getting into character.

natalie's eyes softened, turning into her infamous bedroom eyes all her characters shared. you felt your heart race, as you almost forgot to act. "who do you think you are? you think you can kick a couple of balls and suddenly you run the world?" natalie growled, unknowingly pressing against your core with her thigh.

trying hard to hide how flustered you were, you tip your head up smugly, hoping no one realised you were scrambling to remember your lines, "just accept it, you aren't the player you used to be. I won that position fair and square," you reply slyly, getting ready to move.

suddenly, natalie presses you up against the wall. "you have to prove to me how fit you are first," she whispers seductively. you try to keep a stoic face, but feel your resolve beginning to collapse—you were more similar to your character than you realised. she presses her lips against yours, grabbing your face gently and rubbing the back of your thighs. getting the hint, you wrap one of your legs around her waist and pull her in closer.

"cut!" the director yells, causing the two of you to swiftly pull away. by this point you're as red as a tomato, and natalie can't help but smile at your reaction.

the intimacy coordinator quickly checks up on both of you, making sure that you and natalie were comfortable. you nod, although your insides churned with anxiety. natalie, seemingly noticing it, shook her head. "I think we need to take a breather," she suggests, shooting the coordinator a grateful smile when she nodded in understanding.

leading you outside, where the cool breeze calmed your nerves, placed a soothing hand on the small of your back. "are you alright? I get it, it's pretty full on," she asks.

you shake your head, "I've never. . . done a sex scene before, I just feel so vulnerable in front of so many people," you confide.

natalie smirks, nodding in understanding. "and here I thought you were too scared to kiss me," she joked.

"no. no! I loved kissing you—i mean, you're a greater kisser. . . I just don't know how I feel about showing off my boobs to everyone in that room," you reply, a blush quickly creeping across your cheeks.

natalie held your hand comfortingly, "just pretend no one else is there. just your tits and me," she replies, causing you to giggle.

"you must be popular with the ladies," you tease, cocking an eyebrow. natalie laughed, rolling her eyes and cupping your cheek.

you go eerily silent, your eyes gazing into hers as you try to work out what she's doing. "I am, actually. wanna find out why?" she asks, a wide grin on her face; you nod softly, like a deer in headlights.

pulling you in close, natalie presses her lips against yours—it wasn't gentle, but it also wasn't as rough as she'd been when they were on set five minutes ago. it felt nice—tasted delicious too. natalie's soft lips tasted like the coconut balm she'd put on before the scene, and her breath reeked of mints. you found it sweet of her to try and get rid of her smoker breath before the shoot.

finally pulling apart, natalie grins at you, "ready to go back in? finish what we started?" you nod in a daze, letting her lead you on stage and into the bed they'd set up.

let's just say, you quickly lost your nerves for the rest of filming—instead too preoccupied with natalie's lips on yours once more.

#natalie scatorccio x reader #actress!natalie scatorccio #fanfic #actress au #natalie x reader #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #fluff #blurb #actress!reader #wlw #danisasks #dani's fics <3

[ddarker-dreams]

Just wanted to drop by and give you my praise. I’ve been following you since the early days when you first started putting out Chrollo x reader, Yandere, and headcanons. I came back after a few years when my interests shifted to other characters. Yet, my adoration for Chrollo remained, and I came back this year. It makes me sad that I missed out on those years, but it makes me more appreciative. To see that you kept posting Chrollo all this time, and amazing as ever. It makes my entire day, each time I read or reread your posts. Your writing is the best that I know of when it comes to writing Chrollo. That I can see other writers that you inspired, and it makes it possible to enjoy lots of Chrollo fics, and headcanons. Of course there still isn’t as much Chrollo content due to him not being as popular, and older content no longer available from other creators. Other than that, I get excited reading your Chrollo, you really do him justice. There aren’t any other areas of social media that I can find a space like this that still exist. It’s calming, and a place to relax while reading my dark Chrollo content. Even if it wasn’t a place to relax, I would still be back because I love it that much. You inspired me as well. I will be contributing Chrollo content soon, because we need more. Much love!! Thanks!! ✨❤️

PLSSSS this ask made my week when i first read it, i've been thinking over how to respond in a way that properly conveys my gratitude ,, as i did so, i realized that this ask resonated with me so much because chrollo is the character that roped me back into writing. creating stories these past few years have been an absolute source of joy which wouldn't have been possible without the Mr Lucilfer catalyst.

we've been blessed by the chrollo fanfic resurgence 😌😌 i remember how hard-pressed i used to be to find stories on him. now, there are plenty of amazing authors and works to peruse. togashi even blessed us with new pieces of the phantom troupe's backstory. god bless.

thank you so much for your support and sending this message in!! it's meant a great deal to me. i wish you all the best in writing for him!!!

#sweet asks #answered #Anonymous

[xikerhunt]

Hiii can you do jinsik x reader headcanons or imagine (whichever you prefer) as an idol couple plssss maybe reader is a NewJeans member🤭

Heyy, sorry it took forever. But here you go. I hope you enjoy it.

HIS IDOL

Jinsik x reader

Warning: kissing, nicknames (baby, love, cutie) let me know if I missed anything.

Genre: fluff

You were sitting on Jinsik's lap with your head on his shoulder tired from early morning dance practice.

Today both of you had to perform for a comeback and to be honest you were nervous.   It's not like it's your first time performing.

It's been a year since your debut with New jeans and it was nice.

You had kind members and you built some great friendships.  Jinsik just made his debut with his group Xikers.

He's been working so hard and all you wanted to do was support him the way he supports you.   "Jinsik! You're on in 10." says his manager. He just nods before kissing the top of your head.

"Baby? I have to go now, I'll be back soon" Jinsik whispers in your ear.  You pout not wanting him to leave. "mhm okay my love.  Good luck. " you say before kissing him.  "thank you cutie. Good luck with your performance too. " he says, pecking your cheek.   It's later that same day and your performance went well.

You felt like you were nervous for no reason.  You haven't seen Jinsik since after the performances.

You had a great idea to surprise him with a cute movie date.  You put out some candles and plugged in the good air freshener.

You then ordered some pizza knowing that jinsik would be hungry.  As you're fixing the couch cushions you hear the door opening.

You almost forgot you gave him a key.   "Hey, love. I missed you, all this for me? " he says hugging you and kissing you on the lips.

"Aww, I missed you too baby. And yes I thought I would do something nice since you've been working so hard"

you say kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.  You observe his features even though you see them every day.

You just can't get enough of looking at your boyfriend.  "You look handsome today," you say, pushing a strand of hair from his brown eyes.  He smiles. "So I don't look handsome every day?" he says with a cute pout.  "Of course you do but today you look extra handsome. I like your hair, it's so cute." you compliment him.  He looks into your eyes. "mhm, really now. " he says as he shakes his hair in your face making you scrunch your nose at him.

You both chuckle.  "I saw your performance. You did so well," you say with a soft smile. "Thank you, baby. I was preparing hard for this comeback." you could tell he was trying hard. Staying at practice late.

You always understand since you are also an idol and you get how hard and time-consuming it can be.  "I also saw yours, you killed it, and you looked beautiful.

I just didn't like all those fanboys chanting your name when you're mine," he says, putting his arm around your waist. "I know I know, I don't belong to anyone else but you," you say reassuring him.

He nods, leaning in and kissing your lips.  Out of nowhere the doorbell rings. "Oh shoot I forgot I ordered pizza. "

You say opening the door to get your food and thanking the delivery man.   "Ooh, pizza don't mind if I do," he says with a goofy smile rubbing his hands together.

You just shake your head, finding him extremely cute.   "What movie do you wanna watch?" you ask, grabbing the remote as you sit on the couch jinsik following you with a slice of pizza.  "mhmm, how about the new Shazam?" he asked with his mouth full. "eww jinsik, chew with your mouth closed," you say, pushing his shoulder softly.  He just kept eating with a little smile knowing how much that annoyed you.

You look for the movie and eventually find it. A few minutes into the movie and you have fallen asleep.

Jinsik noticed but didn't wanna wake you so he just went into your bedroom to grab your favorite blanket off your bed.  He places it on you softly before leaning in and kissing your forehead. "sweet dreams my love."  

#kpop ambw #xikers fanfic #kpop #xikers x reader #Jinsikxreader #jinsik xikers #xikers jinsik #kpop imagines #kpopfanfic #idol reader

[weirdsht]

ENEMIES TO LOVERS CALE X READER PLSSSS😭😭

Fickle - Cale/Reader

a/n: idk if anon wanted a gn reader but I made a fem reader solely for the fact that my brain rotted at the thought of enemies to lovers waltz with pretty dresses. oh and the dynamic was inspired from "i'm stanning the prince" but like frenemies ver ig.

if anyone's curious this was 3667 words and 8 pages. also i had sm fun writing this that i might do stories with this as it's base hehe.

Tags: female reader, Gyerre!reader, massive novel spoiler, slight canon divergence?, enemies to lovers, but subtle because of their massive prides, misunderstanding, innuendos if you squint hard, light angst? (debatable tbh i dont think i made it sad tho but to be sure), open ending, Alberu pyscho analyzing his friends, god of death is a warning on its own, but he had little screen time, sarcastic Cale is my will to live, not beta read we die like Cale's slacker life

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

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Everyone who knows Cale thought he would get along well with the beloved cousin of Antonio Gyerre, _____ Gyerre, the only princess of the Gyerre Duchy. Just from a few hours of observing one of them if you know the other you’ll immediately see their similarities; calm, craft, kind, helpful. Even the way they show off their power (in the rare instances they do) are similar.

It’s truly a waste, if only their political beliefs didn’t oppose each other they would’ve been great friends. Partners even.

But of course there are some things that the general public can’t possibly know that only those who are very close to the two know. Like for instance the crown prince of the Roan Kingdom, Alberu Crossman.

If you ask the quarter elf (and actually get an answer) he’ll probably laugh first then say that the two aren’t in conflict because of their political beliefs. In fact both of them are the crown prince’s supporters. With _____ even being his childhood friend that stemmed from their accidental meeting long ago that exposed him being part elf. But that’s a story for maybe never because it’s a dark part Alberu wants to forget.

“_____, there’s a meeting later after Cale announces his commander position. Are you gonna attend? I’m sure you’ll get something useful out of it.”

The prince innocently smiled, as if he doesn’t know that _____ always indulges him.

And so during midnight, after everyone had finished their initial preparation for the war, the three of them had a meeting for further planning. ‘Looting and scamming plans’ as the great and mighty Raon would put it.

“Your highness that’s a great plan but it’s lacking”

“Right I was about to say that, how amazing that for once you’re saying something right young master Cale, you truly are living up to the image the citizens have of you.”

The meeting was conducted smoothly. Of course part of that was the two indirectly fighting each other using their glib tongues and sarcastic tones with Alberu just chuckling and watching the entire thing unfold.

Despite the low-key arguments they always have during these meetings, the redhead commander and the profound business-minded person of the Gyerre duchy synergizes quite well. The plans they think of are very similar so when combined, one is left with a great plan with almost no loopholes. Their thought processes are also very similar, when one of them points out a possible mistake in a plan the other one is quick to bring up a solution as they’ve both been thinking of the same thing most of the time.

“While this meeting has been proven fruitful, I am now going to go back to my quarters as it is late. I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with the young master of the Henituse household. But I do hope we won’t meet again, this lowly being cannot stand looking at the radiant face of our kingdom’s hero. One is happy enough to observe from a distance.”

Translation: don’t show your smug face with your overrated public perception to me ever again especially if we’re inside the same room.

“Oh no, please I should be the one saying that to you, your highness’ closest friend and confidant. How dare I even think of outdoing such an important person of our beloved kingdom.”

Translation: it should be you who should be avoiding me and simply stick to your business aiding the crown prince to the throne.

Tired from the load of bull she’s hearing, _____ turned around from the communication device and rolled her eyes that caused the crown prince to chuckle.

“Shall I call a maid to escort you to your room? Do remember that you have to attend the tea party the Orsena Duchy is holding in the afternoon.”

The tired lady simply puts her hand up to decline the offer before going on her merry way to her beloved bed, the very reason she likes staying at her childhood friend’s castle.

Alberu really can’t tell why the two have bad blood, acting like cats and dogs (but refined) whenever they meet. The two aren’t even competitive, both are probably too lazy to even think of competition knowing that they’re on the same side. Though they hiss at each other, they also know where to give credit when it’s due (of course sarcasm and backhanded compliments will follow suit).

So from whatever angle one looks at it, it seems as though they should at least be great acquaintances. Well no matter, the two know where to draw the line and it gives the blonde joy in life so he doesn’t dwell on it for too long.

Thus, with mainly the help of three cunning minds and glib tongues the war continued to be in their favor. Though suffering and losses are an inevitable part of war, the Henituse, now duchy, also gained a lot of merits out of it. Especially with most of the heroes being the famous Cale Henituse’s people.

Although there were losses, as the pillars of the kingdom the nobles must not let the citizens feel it. One of their jobs is to put the masses mind at ease as they secretly and thoroughly clean up everything in the background. Even though the war isn’t finished yet they have to show that everyone can still go on about their everyday lives in peace. Hence a celebration is in order. What better way to put everyone’s mind at ease than holding a ball.  

_____’s plan was to look around the hall for a minute then scurry to the nearest place she’ll be able to find and hide there for the rest of the night. Naturally nothing goes according to her vision as a certain prince seems to have a life mission to keep her party for as long as possible.

“May I have this dance my lady?”

Of course one of his tactics is focing Cale Henituse to ask the Gyerre princess for a dance. It’s a smart move really, with the commander’s large contribution to their feats, and everyone knowing that _____ also had a hand in strategizing everything makes everyone’s eyes to be on the powerful duo thus leaving no room to decline. 

“It is my honor young master Cale”

A dashing spectacle of soft purple and gold captures everyone’s eyes as the two of the most arguably influential people in the kingdom, continent even, occupy the dance floor. Everyone can’t help but watch at how graceful and effortless the two dance.

Cale spins his dance partner as if he's merely spinning a ribbon in the air and lead’s her and lead’s her exquisitely. While all of _____’s movements are one in such elegance that one thinks they can see the gold flowers embroidered in her light purple tulle gown to be alive and fluttering. Helping the two paint such a fairy tale of a performance.

“Say, young master. I suppose you’re not someone who’ll stoop so low to the point of copying someone else's attire for the night right? I’m sure the beloved young master’s outfit was also prepared by his equally beloved hyung.”

Translation: it’s so you to copy me but since I know Alberu had a hand in arranging your clothes tonight I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt

“Why yes princess. You know how the crown prince is, he doesn’t take no for an answer no matter how hard I try to refute. In fact, if I didn’t know the prince was like that I would’ve assumed that you’ve committed piracy. Then again I know that your highness is far above such petty, pointless crimes.”

Translation: how dare you think i’m trying to copy you? If it wasn’t for Alberu’s doing I wouldn’t even think of stooping down to your unattractive sense of style.

As if to strengthen his point, Cale brings their bodies closer with such vigor that got the other ladies whispering about how they wished their fiances and suitors were as romantic as he is. Of course the beloved granddaughter of Sonata Gyerre didn’t back out with her viscous eye contact that other people thought were enthusiastic.

Simultaneous with the crescendo of the music were their movements. As the piece gets more intense so does their movements. The two have forgotten about everything else. All they see are purple and gold flutters of the hem gown and the tailcoat of the long jacket. The intense eyes looking at each other filled with animosity that none of them know where it stemmed from. Intense feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins in a competition to outdo the other, and the feeling of warm hands holding each other close to the point of it being painful.

While the two got lost in their own world, everyone else cannot help but stop in their tracks and watch in awe. It was even to the point that the two strategists are the only ones occupying the dance area.

‘They make such a good couple. Look at the way they compliment each other and how they dance with such passion, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just hiding their relationship.’

That’s probably what’s running on everyone’s minds as they misunderstand the battle going on between the two purple clad figures.

“Hmmm, *Aram Khachaturian Waltz… I must say, you have impeccable taste in music. You managed to choose a piece that suits us. But, young lord. If I didn’t know any better I’d think that the possessive grip you have on my waist is trying to leave marks on purpose so the maids tomorrow will get the wrong idea.”

“Of course, it is basic knowledge for a gentleman to be able to choose a fitting piece for his lady. Certainly not my lady, please, I apologize for my actions as I am just trying to not lose you to the intensity of the piece. Though I can say the same thing for you and your sharp nails. What would my butler think when he sees scratch marks on me the next day milady.”

Smile and spin ladies and gentlemen, smile and spin. You mustn't let the enemy know how much they’re getting under your skin. As the music mellows down so as the adrenaline and intensity of the dancing pair. Hence why they are back to making small talks.

“Your Highness you were the one that arranged their outfits tonight right? Is there any reason as to why they seem to be matching? Are you also perhaps rooting for the two of them too?”

_____ can hear one of the noble ladies speak to Alberu as they sway near the blonde’s position. Tapping Cale’s arm twice, they silently communicated to subtly stay near that area to eavesdrop.

“Oh hardly no, their private affairs are for them to deal with unless they confide in me about it. I simply just wanted to show off the close relationship we three have. See, even I have light purple and gold on my outfit and this matching beautiful brooch I had the finest of artisans make for the three of us.” 

The two tuning in on the conversation can’t help but lightly scoff at the response provided. Everyone can see that the purple are merely accents of the prince’s suit while it is the main color of the pair’s outfit. Still, knowing they cannot do anything yet as the piece is just about to finish, the two settled on waltzing away to the center when they heard the topic shift from the brooch to the crown prince’s love life.

“You have great dancing skills milord, I thoroughly enjoyed our time together.”

“Likewise milady, now if you allow me to escort you further so we can talk business while waiting for our dazzling prince”

Translation: I’m sure you heard the load of bull Alberu just said so I need you to talk to me to make a petty comeback because I know you and so I know you’re up for it

“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure it's going to be a pleasant conversation”

“Then if you allow me to lead the way…”

If Alberu felt the cold chill run down his spine as he was talking to vassals, then he did a very good job at hiding it. A decision he’ll regret making later on as two pairs of glowing eyes grins at him with malicious intent they like to call ‘payback’.

After that, their relationship got a bit better. There’s still bad blood but thanks to the common headache they share they got along a bit better.

They started getting to know each other outside of the initial image they have of each other and notice the similar traits and life goals they have. 

“Cale Henituse only second to the crown prince for being the most wanted bachelor? What? Is this for real? This man is surely doing witchcraft to make his press image look that good. This can’t be the same Cale Henituse I know who isn’t competent at taking care of himself.”

At her words, red eyes maliciously snapped their way to her figure to stare at amusement and resentment.

“Stare at me like that all you want, it doesn’t help my case that you’re bleeding from every orifice of your body right now. Makes me wonder how much trauma you gave everyone who personally saw you like this during the Henituse war. No wonder why they went ballistic. Of course the same thing can’t be applied to me as I will be more than glad to laugh at your demise with front row seats.” 

Poor young master Cale can’t even make a proper argument as he is too busy to strive to live another day. Contrary to the princess’ lips that spouts poison like a viper, her hands tell a different tale. Soft, gentle hands cradle the commander’s matted hair as she lightly wipes down the blood causing his usual well cared hair to be this atrocious. Beside him is a baby black dragon who fell asleep from the fatigue of his awakening.

“I hate you but I have to give you credit for being the cause of Alberu’s hilarious face when you dropped everything on him all at once then left to go self-destruct. Anyways I haven’t seen Alberu make a face like that since I told him from what house I’m from.”

The annoyed, but in pain man tried to wheeze out an answer but was quickly shushed with benign hands that just finished wiping his face and is now cleaning up the sleeping dragon.

“Don’t even try talking. Yes, yes I know that look, you’re wondering how did I even get here and if I just went here to mess with you. Well let’s just say that I have my ways and this is me repaying you for the amazing scene you made with Alberu.”

Cale decided on whether he should argue back, but upon the return of warm hands that delicately took care of him he decided to let it pass for once.

Thus, Lady Gyerre took care of the famous commander as his plate fixed itself. This made it easier for everyone else to do their respective tasks seeing that the young master is in good hands.

And if the first thing Cale saw as he woke up was a certain lady’s head sleeping on his side. They didn’t talk about it. And if the first thing _____  felt when she woke were big, warm hands caressing her hair softly. They also spoke no word of that.

Instead, the two continued on with their lives as normally as they could after that. 

It doesn’t help that they synergize well so they work with each other quite a lot. It also doesn’t help that since Raon is now relieved, the dragon doesn’t hesitate in asking _____ to stay over and indulge him further. It most certainly doesn’t help that the two of them are good at hiding their feelings, making it seem like they hate each other to the bone with their usual fights. 

And it really doesn’t help them that they seem closer than ever no matter how much they try to push each other away.

Late night talks, comfortable skinship, the way they magnetized to each other unconsciously, one constantly seeking out the other especially when it comes to planning.

Yeah, it really doesn't help them one bit.

There’s also the pesky voice that has been watching over _____ since she was a kid that turned out to be the God of Death.

“So you’re telling me that the other kid you’ve been playing with was that guy. Then you told me that if we could meet we would’ve been great playmates? Oh and you’re also the God of Death everyone kept complaining about… I can see where they’re coming from…”

That conversation resulted in the feather pen, a relic of the said god, hardening and smacking the poor princess across the face. Of course _____ Gyerre is petty so she threw the pen in a corner and refused to talk to the God until he explained everything and let Alberu help with the Sealed God’s test.

As the whole thing continues on and everyone gets tired of the two, Alberu Crossman can’t help and try to figure out where the animosity even came from in the first place. Just why are they hostile to each other at the beginning with no explanations. Just what was the thing they saw that made them like that.

If it wasn’t for the Sealed God’s test maybe Alberu wouldn’t have been able to piece everything together.

The two are so similar that they even share their hatred for people who sacrifice themselves  without realizing they do exactly just that.

[funny, so that’s how it is]

Alberu laughed to himself one night as he thought about it. Of course his laugh didn’t go past Cale, err Kim Rok Soo as he looks at the tiger as if he transformed into something worse than his current form.

But war is war and there’s little to no time for anything else when you’re focused on not letting this White Star wannabe take over the world. Hence why, despite all the clear signs brooding over them, both opted to continue playing hide and seek of feelings in the middle of war and everything is left up in the air.

Still, humans in general are fickle things that don’t realize what they have been caring for until the direst of moments.

“CALE I SWEAR TO GOD DON’T YOU HAVE A BRAIN? IF YOU DIE HERE RIGHT NOW I’M GOING TO PERSONALLY BRING YOUR SOUL BACK IN THAT BODY JUST SO I CAN KILL YOU AGAIN” 

Those words and the back of the one who said it was the last thing Cale registered before he fainted.

When _____ felt uneasy her mind immediately went to Cale and his self-sacrificial tendencies. Good thing that she still has the gift the God of Death gave her a long time ago.

“Listen, the kid I’ve talked about before is coming here soon. I’m sure you’ll get acquainted well. That’s why I’m gifting this to you, you can use this to locate wherever that punk is and go there. Fret not for you can also easily teleport anywhere as long as you have my permission.”

She never thought that she’ll actually use it to locate Cale, nor did she ever think that she’ll be panicking over the man and what he's doing.

Luckily, she arrived in time. Cale just finished using instant and is very weak, near him was someone trying to take advantage of the chaotic situation and finish the redhead off. More lucky that the Gyrre princess has quick reflexes and manages to block off attacks from the bear. 

“I’ve heard what the situation is, Raon I’ll hold them off! Just focus on teleporting us out of here!”

A swarm of the remaining bears and black mages left in the Endable Kingdom continue to attack the three. While _____ is a pretty high ranking swordsman, it cannot be denied that she went to the enemy's territory on a whim and with no proper armor. There’s also the fact that she isn’t simply fighting. Rather, she’s protecting the one guy she swore to leave to die. Thus, by the time the three teleported to Puzzle city the two humans have fainted; one with a broken plate and the other one suffering from a large wound inflicted by the enemy.

Humans and their emotions are fickle things. It’s funny how a few words and actions will make them spiral down again. But it works out because these humans know that they are like that, they understand one another. They know that that’s exactly what makes them human.

That’s why when Cale first woke up, after getting his plate fixed again, and the first one he looked for was _____ no one said anything.

When he wordlessly insists on taking care of the unconscious lady no one dared question how he balances all of his tasks in the middle of war.

And when his family sees him getting lost in his own records late at night they don’t disturb. They simply watch over their young master, making sure that he won’t hurt himself as he autopilots his way to juggling making plans and taking care of Lady Gyerre.

Indeed humans are such fickle creatures dense enough to not realize they’ve been tightly holding on to something unless it’s already too late.

But at the same time that very fickleness is what gives them the ability to do an entire 180 once they realize their mistake.

That’s why in his own way, Cale will surely make it up. Set things straight between the two of them, and not let his mistakes on Earth be the same sins he commits in his new life.

*aram khachaturian waltz is the piece that got me brainrotting about the waltz I'm sorry but it gives massive enemies to lovers waltz scene jsdfjaksdgfsdg

#le asks #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #cale henituse #lcf #lotcf #totcf #alberu crossman #raon miru #lcf god of death #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #lotcf x reader #totcf x reader

[neteyamsilly]

i hope jake suffers 🙏

ALSO FRUITY READER??? YESS PLSSSS Lo'ak and reader fighting over tsireya and reader pulling the "i literally almost died 🙄" card

IF WERE GOING FOR A KORRA TYPE BEAT THEN I TBH I THINK ROTXO WOULD WORK SO WELL (my boy doesn't get enough love) like ik korra doesn't have a male love interest that balances her out but i feel like Asami is closer to Rotxo than tsireya is? BUT EITHER WAY IT WOULD BE ADORABLE!!!!

they would both be so supportive and loving of reader and be the balance to reader being such a headstrong hardass 🫶

IK THIS ISNT A ROMANCE STORY AND THERE PROBABLY WONT BE MUCH ROMANCE BUT I CAN FANTASIZE 🙏🙏 i just love talking about different possibilities and sceneries<333

i'm still rooting for yom'tsyeyk (eat jake😍) !! the ikran tbh i feel like would be sassy, trying to steal readers attention at all times and being spiffy towards Jake and anyone who's bothering reader "don't look her in the eyes" type beat like Neytiri and Seze 😭

frothing at the mouth waiting for the soft and loving moments between jake and reader.

( I WANTED TO ADD A PICTURE HERE BUT IT DOESNR LET ME DO THAT WHEN ANONYMOUS😭)

we need some more mom!neytiri moments up in here (my mommy issues are horrendous) and some loving sibling moments (i also have horrible siblings anxiety)

I WOULD GIVE YOU MY FIRST BORN CHILD😍😍🙏🙏

no pressure tho, this is ur story and tbh id love anything you do

and i totally get what u said about the siblings and i love where you’re going with it, i didn’t think abt them recognizing jake changing and stuff, i just wanted to know how you’d go down that path😮

also i think i have another ear infection cause it started feeling painfully itchy and when i went to scratch it there was blood on my finger 😕let's hope my dad doesn't go all Jake again🙏

ANYWAYS

luv u pook, stay hydrated and eat fruits and veggies (god knows i don't) sleep well and take care of urself<333

-🫀

LISTEN, IDK IF YOU KNOW HANGOVER MOVIES BUT THERE'S THIS PART:

THIS IS GOING TO BE SISTER!READER AND HER SIBLINGS FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE SSDJSKJDS every argument won by "but did you die?" and gaslighting others' problems. stay toxic girlboss

Also like i love soft, idiot, sweet himbos for intimidating girls so rotxo is a wonderful choice, but I also love enemies to lovers so aonung is a choice too. BUT I ALSO LOVE ANGRY INTIMIDATING GIRLS WHO JUST ARE GOOFY TO MELT IN FRONT OF BEAUTIFUL SWEET ANGEL GIRLS .

i cannot . take romance for this series off my hands i'll ruin everything

also like when i put lo'ak into the equation you know sister!reader would have a tragic unrequited love for tsireya she gives up on because tsireya is so good for lo'ak and he's having an incredibly hard time on awa'atlu and she wants him to be happy. she'd walk away. someone stop me. no im not doing romance

"frothing at the mouth for soft moments between reader and jake" HOPE YOU WERE HAPPY (for a while) IN THIS CHAPTER THEN HAHAHAHAH

ALSO ANOTHER EAR INFECTION????? please get that checked out and dont let it get worse this time FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

LOVE YOU, WILL BE AWAITING GOOD NEWS FOR THE EAR!

#irma mirma ask mask #irmanons: 🫀

[woah-were-halfway-there]

Could you write a little thing about maybe a reporter mentioning how Auston just spent his first offseason as a dad and was busy with the wedding and everything then asks how the adjustment to getting ready for the season again has been and stuff?

Omg plssss ok ok here’s a little thing 🥹 just imagine it’s at some sort of media availability so there’s multiple journalists around trying to as a question and this is near the end of it:

Reporter: Auston, just one last question before you go?

Auston: *nods to reporter, silently telling them to ask their question*

Reporter: You just spent your first offseason as a dad and it was a busy one at that with your wedding and everything. How have you been adjusting to training camp and preseason and just getting ready for regular season again and all the time away it requires?

Auston: *stays quiet for a moment as he processes the question then runs his thumb and pointer finger over his moustache thoughtfully before speaking* Uh, it’s not easy, that’s for sure. Being a dad has been on of the most challenging things I’ve ever had to face, but also the most rewarding. I love my family, I love being around them and Mia, god, Mia is just such a good baby. She’s the sweetest little thing and is growing up so fast. I want to be there for all the milestones with her but unfortunately have to be absent for a lot of things with travelling and training and everything, which has been a hard pill to swallow. I’m lucky though to have a partner like Carson, my wife, who just holds down the fort at home and is so selfless and caring. She deserves the world and I’m just trying to give it to her. Like every year, the offseason was amazing being spent with her at home in Arizona and it was incredible having Mia there too. It’s hard getting back into the routine of being away from them so often but there’s work to be done, which Carson understands and has never wavered when supporting me in that

[ughgoaway]

Ace...

What in the actual fuck?!?!?!?! That's was sooo good. I knew I was gonna enjoy it because duh, you wrote it, but Jesus christ it was amazing.

It's too early in the morning for my brain to process everything I've just read (yes, reading the angsty fic was the first thing I did when I woke up). Again, it was incredible. Once I'm properly awake, I'll tell you my favourite bits and all that. But I wanted to let you know first that the angst was really really good. You put too much pressure on yourself and that leads you to not appreciate your work, when said work is fucking great.

I know writing angst was hard for you but I hope you now know that you're very very good at it.

🍪

AHHH THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH ANGEL!!! your review is SO IMPORTANT to me, so I'm soooo glad you enjoyed it!!! stoppp, you're making me blush!! incredible??? plssss!!!

reading angst as soon as you wake up is veryyyy chaotic, but I admire it!!! you are just the sweetest human ever. Thank you for always being so kind and supportive - I appreciate you endlessly!! I can't wait to hear more of your thoughts <333

it was difficult, but honestly, I had more fun than I thought I would! I can see myself trying some more angst in the future hehehe :)))

#cookie anon enjoyed it y'all i can finally breathe #how are you always the kindest person ever??? you always make me feel better about my writing <3333 #truly cant believe you woke up and said “no its time to be sad” #but i love it!!! and you!!! #🍪 anon #anon! #teacher au!

[blarrghe]

What habits or characteristics have they picked up from each other? For ViAliZev plssss

oooooh

Violet: she was always a silly jokester prankster, but she kind of tried really hard to put that away, even before she became a Warden she was struggling with the idea of "growing up". She didn't want to be a proper lady so she figured she should impress by studying the blade and looking like she could handle responsibility like her brother and then maybe daddy would let her fight instead of getting married. Wasn't working out too well.

Then yadda yadda Cousland origin and she goes pretty cold and stony. Alistair brings the jokester back out in a big way. Aaand.... Zevran supports her pranking endeavours. Sometimes on Alistair.

Also I think she picks up lots of little assassin tricks from Zev. The way she handles and polishes her blades, her stance in a fight, etc.

Alistair: mmmmmm I think they infect him with swears. I bet sometimes the King of Ferelden even lets out an Antivan one during his important King Stuff meetings.

Zevran: Becomes a hugger, 100% Alistair's fault.

#ask me things! #they make each other...silly #:3 #collective braincell being used for jokes

[baekhvuns]

Treasure appreciation we love to see it! Wonderland and Inception my top Ateez tracks ever, very opposite vibes but yeah.

For titles it's Wonderland, Inception, Fireworks - I'm a huge Fireworks apologist idc, Wave, Deja Vu. With b-sides it's more difficult, but Aurora, Precious, Fever, Rocky and Promise/Horizon - hard to choose because it depends on my mood, Horizon makes me go crazy and stupid but Promise is one of my emotional support tracks. Utopia is in my top 10 as well.

Yeah I told you, 80 chapters jdhsjshhshshs I'm ready

Best believe once Hwa mentions it on universe I'll be passing away, but not before messaging you ofc - HOLD ON HE'S ON UNIVERSE NOW JDISIDHSISHDHSH what is this...I asked him if he watched Tmrw and no answer ugh, but he mentioned doing a Lego live again plssss when when and his ASMR I'm waiting for MR ASMR 🤩K-drama Hwa tho https://twitter.com/aurorahopee/status/1530267649137156098?t=XHvATr5mSK-Avj6-ziQf3A&s=19

AND DO YOU REMEMBER BABY BOY NERDY HWA?! https://twitter.com/pseonghwapics/status/1530257141935874048?t=j4UYJ6jdXfWczXfLeWeX8Q&s=19

SOMEONE BETTER GIVE ME THIS NERD STORY I CAN PAY, THANK U

Ok ok, take your time with bodyguard, I like a slow burn and they work best imo, so it's good when things aren't rushed

I got one 8M1T sweatshirt but my flatmate decided to buy a hoodie as well so we're just gonna share. <3 It's better than their previous Wonderwall collab cause that was just Wonderwall not Ateez merch. Also Stray Kids is having a pop-store and all the Skzoo stuff lord help 😭😭😭 I already recruited my friends to snatch me some stuff https://twitter.com/Stray_Kids/status/1529386826422956032?t=seK5k7eZo7ftJukRB6ZCGw&s=19

Wish I was normal because I'm still waiting for two rounds of Skz merch 🤡

The tiny in my Atiny is silent so the robe doesn't look big on me. Cats are good, it's been very windy and rainy recently but everytime they see some sun they demand to open the balcony even at 6am 💀but it's not that warm so they run away, lol

Uhm, no why did you actually guess my sign 👁👄👁 yeah it's capricorn

I recently printed a lot of Hwa selfies (mostly pink Hwa obviously) and they look sooooo nice. The pola looked fine, for me it didn't exactly seem legit, but some people got fooled hahaha. I'm not a scammer, but I could be you know 👀

I knew you'd appreciate that photo huhuhu yes totally rich boy vibes.

I'm sorry bestie I'm sure he'd love you too <3

First quiz and I was hit with TS lyrics 🤚🏻 I got secret relationship and bare minimum fucked up, you?

Do this 😍 I got the Aussie baby Lagoona, I can't see the similarities, but I like her https://uquiz.com/quiz/vws2Tg?p=2874486 - DV 💖

hi hello!!

Treasure appreciation we love to see it! Wonderland and Inception my top Ateez tracks ever, very opposite vibes but yeah.

YES TREASURE IS SOOOO PRETTILY PUT TOGETHER THE VOCALS AND THE HARMONIESSSS inception is so elegant >>

For titles it's Wonderland, Inception, Fireworks - I'm a huge Fireworks apologist idc, Wave, Deja Vu. With b-sides it's more difficult, but Aurora, Precious, Fever, Rocky and Promise/Horizon - hard to choose because it depends on my mood, Horizon makes me go crazy and stupid but Promise is one of my emotional support tracks. Utopia is in my top 10 as well.

LMFAOOOO FIREWORKS APOLOGIST JCVDVAK DEF WITH B SIDES ITS SO HARD TO CHOOSE,, omg horizon san’s part and his low register 😮‍💨😮‍💨😩 LNFNWHDKS NOT PROMISE BEING EMOTIONAL SUPPORT THE WAY I WILL BUST DOWN TO ITNFNF utopia is such a queen,,, they need to do a song called dystopia but its got some crazy ass chorus ok but the king 👄👁👄

Yeah I told you, 80 chapters jdhsjshhshshs I'm ready

you got it 😭😭😭😭

Best believe once Hwa mentions it on universe I'll be passing away, but not before messaging you ofc - HOLD ON HE'S ON UNIVERSE NOW JDISIDHSISHDHSH what is this...I asked him if he watched Tmrw and no answer ugh, but he mentioned doing a Lego live again plssss when when and his ASMR I'm waiting for MR ASMR 🤩K-drama Hwa tho

tHE DAY HE DOES WE WON BESTIE WE WON !!!! he’s so cute but so nerdy 😭😭😭 like yes u 4yo play with them legos pls,,, ever wince u mentioned the asmr videos my mind goes to the OTHER ASMR U WERE TALKING ABT 🔫

https://twitter.com/aurorahopee/status/1530267649137156098?t=XHvATr5mSK-Avj6-ziQf3A&s=19

AND DO YOU REMEMBER BABY BOY NERDY HWA?! https://twitter.com/pseonghwapics/status/1530257141935874048?t=j4UYJ6jdXfWczXfLeWeX8Q&s=19 SOMEONE BETTER GIVE ME THIS NERD STORY I CAN PAY, THANK U

I DID NOT NEED THIS REMINDER I THREW MY PHONE AWAY FHWKFHEK ANON 😭😭😭🔫

Ok ok, take your time with bodyguard, I like a slow burn and they work best imo, so it's good when things aren't rushed

yes!! slow burns >>>> i think the yn might come across as annoying bc yn is a extrovert before everything 😭😭😭

I got one 8M1T sweatshirt but my flatmate decided to buy a hoodie as well so we're just gonna share. <3 It's better than their previous Wonderwall collab cause that was just Wonderwall not Ateez merch. Also Stray Kids is having a pop-store and all the Skzoo stuff lord help 😭😭😭 I already recruited my friends to snatch me some stuff https://twitter.com/Stray_Kids/status/1529386826422956032?t=seK5k7eZo7ftJukRB6ZCGw&s=19

im literally????? coming to steal that from you???? lock ur doors?????? right mf now???? no bc this merch is the best merch they put out it looks so warm and cozy and actually as like subtly hints that it’s a kpop merch BRKWDJLW I JUST KNOW UR BUYING EVERYTHING AT THE SKZ ONE

Wish I was normal because I'm still waiting for two rounds of Skz merch 🤡 The tiny in my Atiny is silent so the robe doesn't look big on me. Cats are good, it's been very windy and rainy recently but everytime they see some sun they demand to open the balcony even at 6am 💀but it's not that warm so they run away, lol

TWO ROUNDS????? 😧😧 BESTIE JKVCAKGLKV HEY AT LEAST IT FITS U 😭😭 channelling ur inner milf <3 JDBWKDHWK AWWW ARE UR CATS FLUFFY AND FAT BC 😭😭😭🤚🏼🤚🏼🤚🏼🤚🏼 PLS GIVE THEM HEAD PATS FROM ME 😭😭😭😭

Uhm, no why did you actually guess my sign 👁👄👁 yeah it's capricorn

wait FR??? 👁👄👁 its the psychic.. but ayo capricorn women r so funny it fit

I recently printed a lot of Hwa selfies (mostly pink Hwa obviously) and they look sooooo nice. The pola looked fine, for me it didn't exactly seem legit, but some people got fooled hahaha. I'm not a scammer, but I could be you know 👀

PINK HWA SUPREMACY UR NEVER LETTING IT LIVE DOWN,,, 👁👄👁 I MEAN one of my friends did it and it looked quite real fbwdb he runs GO’s too so i hope he don’t scam HEY U CAN SCAM ME WITH THEM POLAS I WILL BUY IT BFBF

I knew you'd appreciate that photo huhuhu yes totally rich boy vibes.

w-what about this.

I'm sorry bestie I'm sure he'd love you too <3 First quiz and I was hit with TS lyrics 🤚🏻 I got secret relationship and bare minimum fucked up, you?

LMFAOOOO JFBWKDHSK secret relationship u say.. inch resting 👀 BARE MINIMUM FUCKED FBENFB

I GOT THE FAKE DATING AND THE WAY I YELLED and then i read the description.. yeah. AND I GOTS THE A LITTLE

Do this 😍 I got the Aussie baby Lagoona, I can't see the similarities, but I like her https://uquiz.com/quiz/vws2Tg?p=2874486 - DV 💖

😭😭😭???

this one called me out quite hard <3

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

[caitlinsnicket]

them being touch starved (arcane preference)

a/n: this is shorter than I wanted, but I enjoyed writing it anyways. I hope you like it, feel free to interact with it as you wish. If you'd like to support me, you can check out my ko-fi.

| Jinx

physical affection for jinx is a very complicated thing

she always expects people to want something in return for their love, and then she just builds up her walls

but you don't send her off, or ask her for favors, or try to get in her pants

you just let her cling to you like a little bug, and seem to take genuine joy in spending time with her

doodles in your skin

any time she feels bored she pulls out a marker and starts drawing anything that pops up in her head

five minutes later she turned your arm in a mural

neck nuzzles all the time

the only moment her head is truly quiet is when she's touching you

whiny and needy

will pretend it''s all a game in front of you, but in reality she needs this affection to keep thinking of herself as real

gets a adrenaline rush when you kiss her cheek

| Vi

she deserves soft things and good things and warm things

guess what?

you're all of the above

loves skin to skin contact

just sleeping next to you makes her feel better

is shocked by how soft you are

"like a marshmellow pillow"

if you're shorter than her, she comes from behind you and rests her head on your shoulder, appreciating the smell of your hair

if you're taller, she'll bury her face in your chest and breath in your scent

she's a grabber

be soft with her, please, she deserves it

melts whenever you treat her like she's delicate

| Caitlyn

shy girl, be patient with her

HAND HOLDING

lives for feeling your hand against hers, and if you lace your fingers?

oh boy

squeezes your hand to show that she likes it

helping her to solve a case and cuddling at the same time? perfect date

cook with her, touch her arms, and watch her become a mess

let her take care of your hair, her love language is acts of service

loves to know that you enjoy her presence as much as she enjoys yours

KISS HER CHEEK PLSSSS

| Ekko

asks you to paint his face just to have you touching him

hold his arm as you walk so he can feel needed

let him be soft with you please

he spends so much time overthinking every action he does, so he feels like with you he can finally let his guard down

most of the things he does make him feel like he was made to fight

but when you let him do things for you, like brush your hair, cuddle you or massage your shoulders, he feels like there is more for him than just violence

rests his jands on your belly because it feels good

takes you around town in a altered motorbike that is extra small so you have no choice but glue yourself to his back

likes feeling needed

shudders when you kiss his forehead, and likes to kiss you back a lot

puts his hands under your shirt to reassure himself that you're okay

falls asleep to the sound of your heartbeat

| Silco

tries not to show it but you can see his lip tremble when you hold his face

has a hand on your waist/arm at all times

smiles softly at you when you hold his hand

has you sitting on his lap when you're at his office no matter what

if there's a important meeting, you're on his lap so he can caress you and keep his cool

if it's just routine talk, you're there to keep him entertained

and if there's nothing going on, you just enjoy each other's presence

likes to have you sleeping on his chest as he works, stopping every once in a while to kiss your forehead and make sure that you're real

in the begining of your relationship, he was scared of how he would react to your affections

when you try to hug him he flinches ever so slightly, but then relaxes

he wants that affection so much, but it's so hard to turn the "everyone is trying to hurt me" mindset off

relaxes when he feels your fingertips grazing his scarred side

a big teddy bear once he's accostumed with your affection

| Viktor

"how is it possible that you make me feel like I'm floating?"

you just brushed his hair out of his face

a literal mess

after getting over his inicial shyness in the relationship, he acts like a puppy, asking you for attention

takes your hands and places them in his cheeks, leaning against them after

leans into you until you hold him close

hugs you from behind and clings to you, sighing

you just make him feel really comfortable

asks you to "help" him in his studies

which means that you sit behind him and watch him work, sometimes even falling asleep there

he loves it

he loves your warmth and all the fuzzy feelings he gets from your touches

take his hands and kiss them, he'll be a mess

pls pls pls mess with his hair

he'll purr like a kitten

gets this younger look to him when you hug, a coy smile on his face and the weight of the world off of his shoulders

you're his safe place

taglist:

@tartheanmaid @cariossa @gutsandglue @eko2ono @my-bestfriend-is-a-meth-teacher @emotionalyunstablehanjisimp @ewphoriae @mxxnch @king0flies @flowerboy1130 @panshrekxual-iii @wrddrms @lesbian-rondo @ofartsandshadows @the-wordis-bird @sakutsu14 @nsfw-kill-me-now @allyboba @nymphofzaun @aleks-chan @vikivikiv @queerkittycat @purple-vale @phoenixofjewel @justtryingt0vibe @http-jackass @chelablackcat @salem-poltergeist @tovewantcoffee @psychologicalnecrosis @chickenshins @awesomekawaiibouquetlady @musical-yeet @gloomdoomraccoon @cherry-poppins @komoresunrise @testsubject24601 @hopelessly-hopeful-hope @plaguedoctorsalad @snakesnack6 @governmentfraud @natsb1tch @leeriin @sakuracoffe @lionheadknight-blog @afidiofobia @endlessdreamsleadtoreality @eldritchcrafter @theelderswear @wifeofvi @cupcakkesinflatedwetbussy @aj134 @kal0pssiaa @imajinxnation @babygoopeclipsestudent @cowboykiri @betterbemybby @rin-a-din-din @envyscherry @cherry-poppins @psychologicalnecrosis @lonelysnowdrops @komoresunrise @yandematic @apricotfly @kitsuneiis-world @confusedone @moldymacrodose @fandomcatchall @heyurimi @aradeal @ashshxts @werewolf-himbo @icaca2 @cloudyville12-blog @50-oldbees @technicallydarkconnoisseur @coffeedragonart @ic04120 @mastercheetos @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @bellycutx @kikorenart @fandomcatchall @luvhrs @angryduckie @angryduckie @wehhhhhhh @rosenightwings @rippleinthestars @where-music-will-guide-us @gamerekei @gamerekei @valentine-interactive @barkbarkbarkruffruff @allyboba @rinadragomir @blakechaos08 @aiylatik @billcipher1315 @profoundcupcakepolice @bberrriie @kyu-pine @st4rgurlie @theluvergirl @bvby-peachy @hnnnnnnnm @mamir @roll-da-credits @paranoidrobonoid @itzel018-blog @elveyy @jikouya @masterboop @juicepoki @mi-the-queen @sophia902103 @azakanaalex @redflamesbaku @itsghostgirlyo @jaxypo @ezra-enchantress @lem0n-bitch @sakikos @bamboowritess @gami-arts @oddlittleminx @oddlittleminx @voremesenpai @jessicaskyler @vikkijwantingcookies @tvhavokk @zrrey23 @gowonreal @iktorisatwink @zaira-zen @dreamwings231 @bisexual-governmentspy @viisgay @blubirdtears @lowkey-mcgee @every-queer-stereotype @sing-around-the-rosie @earth2nia @r0ugie @valentine-interactive @so-let-us-be-late @existentialdruid @dat-sass-tho @94cjones @snekeyes @starschu @la-bete-du-gevadaun @dragon-chica @wonnia @athousandratsinabreifcase @uwu-exe @queenmissfit @thewonderlandreaderblog @catrastrophical @vaemadz @forsomereason-iexist @mariauntitled @regrimes @tedddy-picker @musiclover133 @starlightmilkk @mouselungs @evstop @memoirslacie @carpevflos @oliiver505 @amaevie @cat-calendars @ke1knowsall @saturnsjustabouthadit @gratefulstranger @envyscherry @kofiwritings @jinxedcode @abyzzwalker @gildedstarlight @scaryfrog420 @damn-i-woke-up @moons-reblogs @kinnarabsh @optimisticnihilismbad @sevikasmainwhore @obmorts @planett-t @werederg @existentialhorni @lost-fantasy @yowhatdoicallmyself @angelbunnyoxo @3m0ry @lilv0002 @otakusotakuseverywhere @otakusotakuseverywhere @sadbunnykins @mammonsimp1214 @shetalkstorainbowss @lauremono @vhobuu @bashedghoul @slasherflickchick @jinxsslut @lilv0002 @lost-fantasy

#arcane preference #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane #jinx x reader #jinx imagine #jinx #vi x reader #vi imagine #vi #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn imagine #caitlyn #ekko x reader #ekko imagine #ekko #silco imagine #silco x reader #silco #viktor #viktor x reader #viktor imagine #imagine #preference

[poisonmypleasure]

Light A Flame

sakusa kiyoomi x male reader

⚠️ smut: somnophilia, blowjob, riding

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't know what possessed him.

He was watching the late night cartoon airing on the TV that you always watch. Next thing, he was suddenly hot and bothered, his dick growing semi-hard underneath his underwear, a bulge visible through his pajama pants.

The ace wasn't completely ignorant at the cause of his boner. He was thinking about you after all. 

He couldn't exactly pinpoint what did you do to turn him on all of a sudden.

Was it you coming back home from class earlier in your denim shirt, two upper buttons undone with your h/c hair tousled? 

Or was it when you got out of the shower, your wet h/c hair flopped down, your torso exposed with remaining droplets, already in your basketball shorts? 

It could be when you were wearing your long-sleeved T-shirt, when you pulled your shirt over your head, stretching your abdomen to let the rest of the shirt roll over your body before completely covering you. 

The way your back muscles flexed a bit? Delicious. 

The way your stomach was covered when you pulled the hem of your T-shirt down? Such a tease. 

And when you moved your gaze on your boyfriend's hungry eyes, you noticed it the moment you walked out of the bathroom, your lips curled into a small smile.

But Kiyoomi saw a lazy smirk that was so sexy to him. 

There was also when he heated up the food that he bought in the evening for you to have a late dinner. You ate beside him on the sofa as he watched the news, kissing his hair as a ‘thank you’ for taking care of you. The affection sent butterflies and shivers all over his body.

The heat got more intense when you mindlessly rubbed his thigh with your palm. It was warm for you but sweat was rolling down his back. It was just a simple gesture with innocence behind it but he got so bothered by that, in a good way.

Maybe, all possible causes affected him directly that made his dick hard. 

He loves you.

It’s love, right? The one made him pop a boner during random times like right now?

Kiyoomi sighs in frustration, leaning his head back on the sofa.

Is he… horny? Without a reason? No way!

That is your brand. You are known to be 247 horny.

The saying about becoming the person you love is happening to him? Gosh! Out of all the best qualities of you, he took your horny with him.

He puts his sweaty palms on his clothed thigh, suddenly remembering then mirroring your actions earlier. Rubbing his own flesh to get any pleasure by himself.

It isn’t the same as when you do it.

So, he walks into the shared bedroom of yours, standing near the foot of the bed to stare at your sleeping form.

He knew that you were drained from your long day and he wanted to give you time to rest. The thing that possessed him to be aroused right now isn’t helping him.

Adding to his desire, the scene in front of him, the one of you sleeping, is really arousing.

He didn’t know how you sleep and somehow got half of the blanket to hang off of the bed. Your aggressive sleeping made your T-shirt rode up to half of your stomach, your shorts were rolled up to show your thighs for him to drool.

Your erection is poking out too, your tip leaking precum and wetting your thigh.

There is no way Sakusa could hold himself back.

Now that he knows you’re horny too. Damn, you could even get hard in your sleep.

Pushing his final contemplation away, he straddled your knees before sitting on your thighs, trapping your legs under him.

He pulls down your shorts with difficulty, with him sitting on you and being careful not to wake you up. His present under the clothing made his lips dry, licking them at the sight of your proud standing cock.

Kiyoomi gently grabs your dick, wrapping all of his fingers around it before stroking it, the leaking liquid spreading all over your length.

“Tch! Stupid Y/N getting hard in his sleep... You better wake up when I suck you off…” he whispered to your dick in front of his face, hoping the message would get to your other head.

Due to the room being quiet, the squelching from your pre-cum and his tight grip filled the room with clarity and Sakusa felt his last bit of restraint from jumping you disappear.

He wastes no time to devour your whole length in his mouth, tongue already licking the whole thing, tracing the veins while bobbing his head to swallow it.

While sucking you, his eyes look up to your face, still nothing as you’re still far in dreamland. He struggled to frown with your cock in his mouth, a bit upset that you haven’t wake up to fuck his brains out yet.

He powers up his sucking, slurping back his drool on your length, drinking the built up pre-cum, stroking you faster and tighter, pushing you further down his throat.

The idea of him using your vulnerable state to satisfy his needs and getting caught with your hard cock deep inside his mouth turned him on like no other as he started to grind his own erection on your leg.

His eyelids flutter at your sleeping face, pretending he is seducing you with his eyes while giving you a blowjob. He knows you would go crazy at his expression that you would grip his hair and fuck his throat roughly.

And you are still asleep even when he gets closer to his orgasm by rubbing himself on you. It annoys him when he cummed first in his underwear as he grunts on your twitching length.

The pleasure from his orgasm made him moan around your cock louder, sending greater sensation that your seed bursted down his throat.

Swallowing everything then pulling off your tip with a loud pop, he pants on your still erected dick, all wet from his saliva as he had sucked everything off it.

He sits up to stare down at you with furrowed eyebrows.

You are still in your slumber.

“Y/N, you idiot… How did you cum in your sleep and still hard?”

He spat on your cock to wet it more, stroking it fast to exaggerate the squelching noise in hopes of getting any reaction from you being sensitive.

Nothing out of you, not even a small jerk.

“You sleep like you’re dead,”

He decided to take matters in his own hands in favour of satisfying his own lust. Shrugging his pajama pants and cum-stained underwear off, he squatted above your hips, your erection straightened in his grip before lowering himself onto you.

Your shaft pressed dead on at his prostate that he jolted upwards again. He moves his ass back down again slowly as he can handle.

He stilled himself for about two minutes to get used to your girth stretching his walls until his own erection woke up again.

Then he lets himself loose as he rides you in your unconscious state, slamming himself down onto you that his firm ass cheeks clap your thighs.

His volume was moderate as he wants to let you know that your cock is hitting him so good inside him but doesn’t want the people living next door to hear.

“Fuck! Y/N! Wake up and fuck me! Damn it!” he whispered in a yelling tone.

He fucks himself onto your hard dick until his legs begin to shake and his own length becomes painful.

“Fine… If you’re not doing it, I’ll do it myself…”

He changes his bouncing into grinding back and forth to drag his nerves against your cock, stroking his own to reach his second orgasm.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m cumming! Y/N-”

His semen made a mess all over your stomach, some staining your T-shirt. He continues to jerk off until he couldn’t handle the pleasure anymore that he drops his hands on your chest to support him from falling forward, his whole body shivering.

Sakusa’s heart drops when he sees your eyes flutter open, still hazy from your slumber when you scan the situation you’re in.

You looked at your boyfriend’s face with a bored expression before the lazy smirk that Kiyoomi loves from you appears. 

“Kiyo-chan? Did you use me while I was asleep?”

The guy gasped when he sensed your palms massaging his waist. He gulped as he already allowed you to have your way with him, knowing that you would go for two rounds at the least.

“Yeah, I did. Now, get up and fuck me into the bed,” he answered with confidence.

You were impressed by his attitude, already seeing him breaking down in the next few minutes.

Sitting up to meet his face, you grab his chin to guide his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of him.

“You’re such a pervert, Kiyo-chan! And you say I am the horny one,” you provoked.

You obeyed his words that night and didn’t stop just before dawn. You were proven that you weren’t the only pervert in the relationship.

a/n: plssss excuse the h*rny 😭 also, not me outwriting my w***p** works 💀

#SoundCloud #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu smut #top male reader #seme male reader #dom male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #male reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x male reader #dom reader #sakusa x y/n #sakusa smut

[lipstickbisous]

plssss elaborate on chris choking you with his tie 🥵🥵

breath ⟶ chris evans

pairing: chris evans x reader

summary: he’ll show you what you do to him.

warnings: smut, daddy kink, dom!chris, degrading/dirty talk, creampie, oral (female receiving, choking, 18+ MINORS DNI

a/n: i got carried away...also it goes with this gif set! i think this might've been poorly written but oh well! thank you for the request!

the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.

masterlist

⊱ ────── {⋅. ☽ .⋅} ────── ⊰

chris isn’t usually strict. he’s definitely a sweet and a gentle guy, but trust me...if you do something that’s gonna piss him off, you better understand there’ll be consequences.

let’s say it’s the after party of any sort of red carpet event. he’s taking off his suit (although he looks gorgeous in one). he’s undoing his tie and ruffling his hair because it’s been a long day and all he whats to do is treat his girl to what she deserves. that night, you looked absolutely divine in the dress you were. i mean, you were practically glowing and chris could not take his eyes off you. so when you returned to the hotel room, and you walk in to see him in just his dress shirt, pants, and that tie, whew...you’re melting.

“are you lookin’ at something, hun?” he asked with a smirk bc he fucking knows what he’s doing.

you slip off your heels and just smileeee, “not at all.”

oof that sets chris off. he does not like joking around with you like this. his hard-on is making his pants tight and he knows you can see it. he grabs your hand and puts it against his length. “you see what you do to me, baby?” he asked again, whispering right next to your ear and gently kissed it. and whew if feeling his cock through his pants wasn’t enough to make your knees melt, then idk what is. you were struggling to find the words, too busy thinking abt what he could do to you with that cock. “come on, little girl, speak up.”

he’s standing right in front of you while you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. “yes, daddy” you squirm around bc there’s a little feeling between your legs that tickles.

chris definitely notices it. “atta girl,” he slurs, drunk off of you. his fingers go the straps of your dress before sliding them off of your shoulders. “look at my beautiful sweetheart,” he cooed and later your back down on the bed once you were bare in front of him. she’s so gorgeous, and she’s gonna look even better with my cock inside her. isn’t that right?”

you nod, “yes, daddy.” it was pathetic. you could only say two words at the moment and meanwhile chris was treating you like a queen. i mean, he’s dragging down your panties--white lace, mind you--and when he smells it, he lets out the most animalistic groan. and that makes you even more wet and chris is reveling in it. 

“god, baby, you’re always so wet for me,” he mumbles and puts his hand underneath your back. “turn around on your tummy for me, sweetheart.”

chris didn’t have to tell you twice. you sit sat yourself on your stomach, knees close to your chest, and your ass in the air--just the way he likes it. your cunt is literally spread open for him to look out, and even though the lighting in the room is really dim, girl, you’re glistening in front of him. that’s enough to make him nut in his pants. meanwhile, he’s on his knees at the end of the bed, sliding off the tie from his shirt, setting it next to him for later.

“now,” he whispered, and when you felt breath against your folds you realized he’s only like inches away from you. (can u imagine omg) “you’re gonna behave for your daddy, right?” you didn’t even expect yourself to but jesus christ you whimper out a yes. “good girl,” this man chuckles that out from the depths of his chest. you’re expecting like another question or for him to at least tease you, but nopeeeee he latches his mouth to your core and immediately starts licking through your slit. 

it’s an awkward position to try and grab his hair so your hands are moving all over the sheets, practically pulling the bedding apart. and you know what chris does? he laughs when he sees how he’s making you feel. and that sends vibrations straight through your body. your knees are about to collapse when he tightens his lips around your clit. you’re trying so hard to not scream because you’re not at home and there are people next door. “come on, baby, i wanna hear something,” he mutters while sticking his tongue inside your hole and that’s enough to make u burst. “i wanna hear how good your daddy makes you feel, okay?” 

you finally let out a loud wave of noise but you’re still too scared to make too much sound. “oh, fuck,” you sob when his thumb makes contact with your clit. the stimulation is overwhelming and your legs are shaking all by themselves--chris thinks it’s adorable. the only free hand he has left grabs the tie he had set right next to him. he breaks contact with your pearl--you whine at that, and in return, a pinch to your leg with a “what do i say about whining”--and he wraps the tie around his fist. before he can bring you over the edge, he stops and kisses your inner thigh. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you hear a zipping sound and the clatter of a belt. there’s a soft clump of something on the carpeted floor and then you feel chris drag his tip through your slit.

he groans, “my baby, always so perfect for her daddy,” without any sort of warning, he shoves--and y’all know what i mean when i say SHOVES--it inside your hole. “god, i’m just stretching you open, aren’t i?” he immediately sets a rough pace and the speed has his skin slapping against your rapidly. “i make you feel so good, don’t i, little girl? tell me, baby, how good do i make you feel?”

you try to sit yourself up at least on your elbows because he’s making you crumble, but instead of balancing yourself, you scream when he opens you wide enough to touch your cervix. you’re speaking jibberish-- “mhm, fuck, daddy...it’s so big, i- fuck!”--literally incoherent noises that strokes chris’ ego. he takes the tie around his fist and wraps it around your neck, squeezing his palm and watching your eyes burst open. now, you’re stumbling over your own words and trying to find some sort of air supply, but chris is cutting off everything. “is this what i do to you? i fuck you, dumb, don’t i?” 

then, he pulls you up by the tie high enough that you don’t have to depend on your arms for support anymore. your vision is turning fuzzy and you start seeing little specks. you manage to mutter out a choked, “so...good.”

“i know it is, sweetheart,” he furrows his brows because no matter how many times he pounds into you, you’re always so tight. “fuck, your pussy’s so good to me. always making me feel so good, always so tight. you love my cock so much, don’t you, baby? you love it so much you just need to make it feel good, right?” you nod (again, pathetically) and turn your head to look at him.

his hair that was neatly combed was now ruffled and an absolute mess. there was sweat running down his forehead, and his lower lip was gently twitching. he didn’t look back at you--no, chris’ attention was focused on watching his cock sink into your hole, only to pull it back out and shove it back in. and he doesn’t let go of the tie. he’s keeping you up there, breaking any sort of contact you had with oxygen. “my dumb fucking baby. doesn’t even know how to speak,” he laughs and it destroys you. “that’s how good i fuck her.”

your hands are grabbing at nothing and you’re an absolute mess. the core inside of you is tightening with every thrust chris takes and you’re trying to hold it in as much as you can. “i can feel that, sweetheart,” he tightens the tie. “do you really think i’m stupid?” he spits onto your cheek. “i can feel you around me, baby, i’ve fucked this pussy so many times. i know when you’re about to cum, and sweetheart, i’m about to cum too. i’m gonna fill up your fucking pussy, all the way up, and you’re gonna keep it inside you, alright?” you nod, but you start to claw the restraint around your neck. “i don’t think so, little girl.”

you can’t see anything now, just blindly trying to remove the tie and move your hips toward chris but he’s got them frozen with just one hand. “come on, baby, i know how good it feels,” you moan louder than before. you’re a hot mess now, blubbering without any supply of air, eyes squeezed shut, hot tears running down your cheeks. it’s a sight. “just cum for me. cum for your daddy, be a good girl.”

with a muffled scream, you let go and release everything you have onto his cock. it’s still drilling inside you and touching the spot inside you that makes you absolutely wild. his grip on the tie just barely loosens. “fuck, sweetheart, you’re makin’ me feel so good,” he sort of cries, and you clench yourself around. he laughs--deeply. “this beautiful cunt is all mine. i’m gonna fill it up with my cum, put a fucking baby inside you--” he stutters before he can finish his sentence and there’s a warm heat releasing inside you. just by feeling his strings of cum mark up your walls, you melt into the mattress.

chris stays like that for as long as he can. he’s holding it inside you with the rest of the strength he has, and when his cock finally softens he pulls it out. there’s a deep groan that echoes through the room when he sees his cum start to drip out of your hole. “oh baby,” he coos, spreading it open and watching the rest spill. “what a good girl. my good girl.” chris places a quick kiss on your folds and leaves the rest of both your clothing on the floor.

ya idk how to end this they kiss, go to sleep and whatever. @cno92 @honeysucklesteve @inactivewhore what do we think

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #esme answers #asks

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

Can you please do one where y/n tells Harry that she’s bi, harry’s supportive but then she tells him that he’s the only one who knows bc she scared her parents would find out and do something bc they are very homophobic?? Plssss plss

I tried to make this as accurate as I could, but I am not a member of the LGBT+ community, so I’m really sorry if this isn’t an accurate portrayal!

bisexual

warnings: anxiety, coming out, mentions of homophobia

word count: 1.3k

You had to tell him. You knew you had to tell him. You just didn't know what to say. How do you even start a conversation like that? "Hey Harry, by the way, I like men- and women?" Maybe not like that. Or, actually, maybe just like that. Maybe it would be better to just say it fast? No beating around the bush. Just go for it. You knew he would be supportive. You knew he wouldn't look at you any differently. Still, you couldn't manage to shove your nerves down.

And it wasn't just Harry. There was also the matter of your family. Your very conservative family who definitely wouldn't accept this part of you. You could already hear their responses if you were ever to tell them. "Oh, Y/N, you're not bisexual. It's wrong, and we raised you better than this. What will our friends think? What will the church think?" You really didn't need to deal with that, not when you were having a hard enough time understand it on your own. You didn't need the added confusion and judgement and intolerance you knew your family would give you. Nonetheless, you didn't know how much longer you could keep this hidden from everyone. It felt like you were lying to the people you loved. You didn't care as much about your family not knowing; you knew they wouldn't be accepting anyways. But you hated that you were keeping this from Harry. So finally, you decided to get it over with. You felt the anxiety twisting in your stomach every time you saw him, wondering if now was the time. You knew it would only get worse the longer you kept it in, so you needed to get it off your chest, and soon. You were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts when the front door slammed open. You were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, deep in thought and staring at the paused episode of Grey's Anatomy as you chewed on your bottom lip. You had stopped the episode almost an hour ago, because you couldn't focus on anything. You had decided that today was the day to tell Harry. It was the perfect time, you thought. Things had been really good between you lately. Harry wasn't too stressed at work, and neither were you. Anyways, what's that saying? There's no time like the present. "Hi baby!" Harry chirped, sauntering into the living room. He leaned over the back of the couch, putting his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your cheek. "Hi," you squirmed away from him, giggling as his hair tickled the side of your face when he moved closer to you. Harry took it upon himself to flip over the back of the couch, landing next to you (and partly on top of you) with a clumsy movement. It took a few moments of shuffling and laughing as he tried not to hit you with his lanky arms or legs, but he finally settled himself with his head in your lap. "How was your day?" He looked up at you with a lazy grin. "Good," you smiled down at him, threading your fingers through his messy hair. "How was yours?" "Also good," he closed his eyes at the soothing feeling of your fingers. "I got a lot done. Might have some new songs for you to hear soon." "Really?" You asked excitedly. You were one of the first people who got to hear the finished products, and it was such a special feeling for both of you. "Mhm," he nodded. "I think you're really going to like one of them." "I think I'm really going to like all of them," you corrected. "Right," he laughed. "That's what I meant." The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, your fingers still stroking through his hair as he breathed softly. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to look up at you again. "You can start your show again if you want." Harry acted like he didn't care about the show, but you both knew he was into it. He got really involved and you definitely saw him crying during a few of the main character deaths. "Oh- that's ok, I wasn't really watching anyways." "No?" You shook your head, looking away from him when he sat up. He turned to face you, resituating so your legs were on his lap. "Why not?" "Just thinking," you said, looking down at your fingers. He followed your gaze, sighing softly when he saw you were picking at your cuticles, a telltale sign of anxiety for you. "About?" he questioned gently, using his hands to pull yours apart. He did this whenever he saw you picking at your skin, and it make your heart squeeze every time.  "I kind of... I have to tell you something," you said, inhaling a shaky breath. "What's up?" He ducked his head down to meet your gaze. His features filled with concern when he saw how your eyes were filling up with

tears. "What is it? Did something happen?" You shook your head, wiping your sleeve over your eyes quickly. "No- well, not really." "Not really? Are you ok?" "I'm- it's not... bad," you tried to reassure him, but the terrified look on your face was probably not very convincing. You took another deep breath, trying to slow your heart which at this point was pounding out of your chest. You felt sick with nerves when you finally looked up at Harry. "You- you have to promise me something." "Of course, baby, anything," he said, clasping your hands in his. "Promise me you won't... you won't think less of me, o-or love me less." "Of course I won't love you less," he leaned closer, and the look on his face was heartbreaking. He looked almost as upset as you. "Please, just tell me what's wrong?" "It's just- I've been thinking, for a long time now," you began, looking down at your intertwined hands when his gaze got too intense. "And I think- I think I'm bisexual," you whispered. You could almost feel the tension melting away from his body. "That's what you were so scared to tell me?" He asked gently. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "Baby," he ducked his head to look at you. You lifted your own, finally meeting his gaze. "Why did you think I would love you less because of that?" You shrugged, attempting to swallow the lump in your throat as more tears filled your eyes and your vision blurred. "Come here," he said soothingly, pulling you into his arms. You didn't even try to hold your tears back anymore, instead just letting them flow out onto his shirt as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you close, rocking back and forth gently as you cried. His heartbeat was the most comforting thing you had heard in a long time. Once you finally calmed down a bit, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this," he spoke softly, not loosening his grip on you. "I'm sorry you were so scared to tell me. Did you think I would be upset or something?" "No," your voice shook slightly with the remnants of your crying. "Not really. But my parents will be, and everyone else in my family. They'll tell me I'm wrong, and that they're disappointed in me, and... they won't love me anymore," your voice trailed off as you thought through all the possibilities. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "That's awful." You nodded. "Which is why you can't tell anyone," you looked up. "You're the only one who knows, because they genuinely might disown me," you said, fear evident in your voice. "Of course I won't say anything," he soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's not for me to tell." You nodded again, smiling slightly when he thumbed away a stray tear on your cheek. "Thank you for being so supportive." "Of course, lovie," he smiled. "You can always talk to me, okay? You can always tell me anything, because I will always love you."

#Harry Styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #coming out #bisexual