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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Lose Control

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

4K notes · View notes

holybibly · 2 months

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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.

𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.

𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.

You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary," before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed.

Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives. The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner.

"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.

You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted.

It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair.

"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once.

The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.

There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.

The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.

One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.

As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.

"Hello, my dear."

You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."

"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.

Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.

"Something like that."

"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.

"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.

Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.

"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?

"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.

"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.

Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?

"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.

"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.

"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.

Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.

"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"

"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."

There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.

His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?

"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."

"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.

"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."

A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.

"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."

"F-Father…"

"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "

You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"

"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.

Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.

"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."

He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.

"Shall I show you?"

"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.

"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"

You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.

"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.

Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.

You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.

You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."

He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.

"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.

"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.

"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.

"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.

"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."

Were they?

But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.

"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"

He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.

"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.

"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.

"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.

He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.

"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?

He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.

"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.

The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.

"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.

He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.

"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.

"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."

"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.

"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.

You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.

You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.

"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."

You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.

As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.

Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.

"You have to undress completely, darling."

You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.

"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.

You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.

"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.

"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."

The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.

"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.

"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.

"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.

"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."

You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.

"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."

It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.

"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth.

Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.

"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.

Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.

He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.

"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.

"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"

You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."

You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.

"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.

"Look at me, my darling."

Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.

Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.

"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.

"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.

"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.

God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.

From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.

He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.

He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.

"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."

You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.

He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.

His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.

"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."

He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.

"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.

"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.

All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".

"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."

Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.

You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.

"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.

You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.

Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.

"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."

You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.

"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."

"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.

"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.

"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.

"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.

"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.

"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.

You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.

The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.

"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.

He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.

"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.

With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.

"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."

He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.

Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.

And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.

"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."

From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.

"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.

"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"

You lowered your eyes in shame.

He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.

"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."

"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."

"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."

Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.

It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.

"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.

"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.

He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.

"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.

"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.

Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.

Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.

"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"

"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.

"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.

Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind. "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."

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tyquu · 2 months

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Ah I remember my question now!! Since Ezra is a growing boy, how does that impact his prosthetic use? I'm assuming they can't just go get him refitted like normal... do they help him resize? Do they build new parts? Or help him find some?

Hiii!! :D) So I doodled out my thoughts as I pondered this question but my handwriting is ass so… I’m also gonna write a little summary too!

Ezra's first Prosthetic was given to him by the same people who performed the amputation on his leg in the first place. Some concerned Lothali citizens who couldn't bare to watch him hop around on his severely infected leg any longer. 12 year old Ezra was pretty pissed about it though (understandably). It didn't help that his first prosthetic was old as balls and awful to walk on.

Thankfully, using bits n bobs he'd collected out on the streets, Ezra was able to tighten the loose hinges at the joints and modify the top to fit better. Alas, he ended up loosing this leg after bopping Kallus over the head with it pretty early on into joining the spectres.

Hera set him up with a pair of crutches and then devoted herself to finding him a replacement. She was determined to find something that was better than his last prosthetic and thought she'd struck gold when she figured out Vizago had one sitting in storage. She haggled hard but eventually managed to pocket the rarity, and delivered it back to Ezra. Sabine helped modify it fit to properly, and to Ezra's delight he discovered that the hinges on this leg were motion activated, and could pack an even better punch (or kick) than his previous one.

Ezra hadn't really manage to curb his habit of using his leg as a weapon on occasion, and during such an incident ended up losing leg 2 (much to Hera's despair). Thankfully, Sabine had helped Ezra do enough maintenance on his last two legs that she was confident she could fix up some similar prototypes using her engineering skills. The spectres all contributed to a scrap box that would be used to build replacement legs whenever Ezra ended up losing or outgrowing one. All of them were very dedicated to scouting out parts for him and happy to help with maintenance.

At some point the rebellion had gotten large enough to start having a more organised healthcare system, and Ezra was offered a spot on the surgery waitlist for cybernetics. Ezra was initially hesitant, however, post the incident on Malachor he eventually agreed.

The cybernetic, although not the most advanced for it's time, is connected to his nerves giving him full mobility over the prosthetic. However, it came with it's own new quirks that took some getting used to. Detaching and Reattaching the cybernetic takes between 2-5 minutes to do, and often requires tools to help, rendering it no longer an option as a spontaneous mid battle weapon. As a result there was no longer need for him to cut holes in the left leg of his trousers either.

Ezra doesn't sleep with the cybernetic (same as one wouldn't with a prosthetic) cause it would be hella uncomfortable. On lazy days, he often goes without it, opting to use crutches around base instead. The cybernetic is waterproof, however, in both snow and sand it can sometimes become clogged and stiff, and may need extra maintenance after the mission is complete. The ghost crew is always willing to help pitch in with their engineering expertise (mainly Hera, Sabine and Chopper) or spare part gathering.

Anywho,,, yeah. I hope that sort of answers that question?? I'm not 100% familiar with how prosthetics and cybernetics work in the Star Wars universe so forgive me if some of this info doesn't check out. ( also if u see a spelling mistake,,, no u don't)

#star wars #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #sw rebels #hera syndulla #sabine wren #amputee ezra bridger #cybernetics #ty tidbit #asks #swr art #ghost crew #star wars fanart

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bethanythebogwitch · 7 months

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I recently found out a show I liked is 10 years old now so to not be the oldest thing on this blog I'm talking coelacanths for Wet Beast Wednesday. Coelacanths are rare fish famed for being living fossils. While that term is highly misleading, it is true that coelacanths are among the only remaining lobe-fined fish and were thought to have gone extinct millions of years ago before being rediscovered in modern times.

(image id: a wild coelacanth. It is a large, mostly grey fish with splotches of yellowish scales. Its fins are attached to fleshy lobes. It is seen from the side, facing the top right corner of the picture)

Coelacanth fossils had been known since the 1800s and they were believed to have gone extinct in the late Cretaceous period. That was until December 1938, when a museum curator named Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer was informed of an unusual specimen that had been pulled in by local fishermen. After being unable to identify the fish, she contacted a friend, ichthyologist J. L. B. Smith, who told her to preserve the specimen until he could examine it. Upon examining it early next year, he realized it was indeed a coelacanth, confirming that they had survived, undetected, for 66 million years. Note that fishermen living in coelacanth territory were already aware of the fish before they were formally described by science. Coelacanths are among the most famous examples of a lazarus taxon. This term, in the context of ecology and conservation, means a species or population that is believed to have gone extinct but is later discovered to still be alive. While coelacanths are among the oldest living lazarus taxa, they aren't the oldest. They are beaten out by a genus of fly (100 million years old) and a type of mollusk (over 300 million years old).

(image: a coelacanth fossil. It is a dark brown imprint of a coelacanth on white rock. Its skeleton is visible in the imprint)

Coelacanths are one of only two surviving groups of lobe-finned fish along with the lungfishes. Lobe-finned fish are bony fish notable for their fins being attached to muscular lobes. By contrast, ray-finned fish (AKA pretty much every fish you've ever heard of that isn't a shark) have their fins attached directly to the body. That may not sound like a big difference, but it actually is. The lobes of lobe-finned fish eventually evolved into the first vertebrate limbs. That makes lobe-finned fish the ancestors of all reptiles, amphibians, and mammals, including you. In fact, you are more closely related to a coelacanth than a coelacanth is to a tuna. Coelacanths were thought to be the closest living link to tetrapods, but genetic testing has shown that lungfish are actually closer to the ancestor of tetrapods.

(image id: a scientific diagram depicting the taxonomic relationships of early lobe-finned fish showing their evolution to proto-tetrapods like Tiktaalik and Ichthyostega, to true tetrapods. Source)

There are two known living coelacanth species: the west Indian ocean coelacanth (Latimeria chalumnae) and the Indonesian coelacanth (L. menadoensis). Both are very large fish, capable of exceeding 2 m (6.6 ft) in length and 90 kg (200 lbs). Their wikipedia page describes them as "plump", which seems a little judgmental to me. Their tails are unique, consisting of two lobes above and below the end of the tail, which has its own fin. Their scales are very hard and thick, acting like armor. The mouth is small, but a hinge in its skull, not found in any other animal, allows the mouth to open extremely wide for its size. In addition, they lack a maxilla (upper jawbone), instead using specialized tissue in its place. They lack backbones, instead having an oil-filled notochord that serve the same function. The presence of a notochord is the key characteristic of being a chordate, but most vertebrates only have one in embryo, after which it is replaced by a backbone. Instead of a swim bladder, coelacanths have a vestigial lung filled with fatty tissue that serves the same purpose. In addition to the lung, another fatty organ also helps control buoyancy. The fatty organ is large enough that it forced the kidneys to move backwards and fuse into one organ. Coelacanths have tiny brains. Only about 15% of the skull cavity is filled by the brain, the rest is filled with fat.

(image id: a coalacanth. It is similar to the one on the above image, but this one is blue in color and the head is seen more clearly, showing an open mouth and large eye)

One of the reasons it took so long for coelacanths to be rediscovered is their habitat. They prefer to live in deeper waters in the twilight zone, between 150 and 250 meters deep. They are also nocturnal and spend the day either in underwater caves or swimming down into deeper water. They typically stay in deeper water or caves during the day as colder water keeps their metabolism low and conserves energy. While they do not appear to be social animals, coelacanths are tolerant of each other's presence and the caves they stay in may be packed to the brim during the day. Coelacanths are all about conserving energy even when looking for food. They are drift feeders, moving slowly with the currents and eating whatever they come across. Their diet primarily consists of fish and squid. Not much is known about how they catch their prey, but they are capable of rapid bursts of speed that may be used to catch prey and is definitely used to escape predators. They are believed to be capable of electroreception, which is likely used to locate prey and avoid obstacles. Coelacanths swim differently than other fish. They use their lobe fins like limbs to stabilize their movements as they drift. This means that while coelacanths are slow, they are very maneuverable. Some have even been seen swimming upside-down or with their heads pointed down.

(image: an underwater cave wilt multiple coelacanths residing in it. 5 are clearly visible, with the fins of others showing from offscreen)

Coelacanths are a vary race example of bony fish that give live birth. They are ovoviviparous, meaning the egg is retained and hatches inside the mother. Gestation can take between 2 and 5 years (estimates differ) and multiple offspring are born at a time. It is possible that females may only mate with a single male at a time, though this is not confirmed. Coelacanths can live over 100 years and do not reach full maturity until age 55. This very slow reproduction and maturation rate likely contributes to the rarity of the fish.

(image: a juvenile coelacanth. Its body shape is the same as those of adults, but with proportionately larger fins. There are green laser beams shining on it. These are used by submersibles to calculate the size of animals and objects)

Coelacanths are often described as living fossils. This term refers to species that are still similar to their ancient ancestors. The term is losing favor amongst biologists due to how misleading it can be. The term os often understood to mean that modern species are exactly the same as ancient ones. This is not the case. Living coelacanth are now known to be different than those who existed during the Cretaceous, let alone the older fossil species. Living fossils often live in very stable environments that result in low selective pressure, but they are still evolving, just slower.

(image: a coelacanth swimming next to a SCUBA diver)

Because of the rarity of coelacanths, it's hard to figure out what conservation needs they have. The IUCN currently classifies the west Indian ocean coelacanth as critically endangered (with an estimated population of less than 500) and the Indonesian coelacanth as vulnerable. Their main threat is bycatch, when they are caught in nets intended for other species. They aren't fished commercially as their meat is very unappetizing, but getting caught in nets is still very dangerous and their slow reproduction and maturation means that it is long and difficult to replace population losses. There is an international organization, the Coelacanth Conservation Council, dedicated to coelacanth conservation and preservation.

(image: a coelacanth facing the camera. The shape of its mouth makes it look as though it is smiling)

#wet beast wednesday #coelacanth #marine biology #biology #zoology #ecology #animal facts #fish #fishblr #old man fish #lobe-finned fish #sarcopterygii

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oliviajdjarin · 5 months

Text

Din Djarin: Come and Get Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.

Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.

A/N: happy dincember my people :)

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

(gif credit to pinterest)

“Why are droids always so angry?”

A deep sigh arose through your comlink.

“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”

Silence.

“You’re holding back your laughter.”

“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.

“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”

“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.

“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”

“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.

“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.

Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.

They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.

In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”

You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.

That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.

“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”

You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”

“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”

Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.

“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.

And here you were.

The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.

“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”

You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.

Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.

“Hey, Din,” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.

“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”

“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”

“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”

His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.

“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”

“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.

You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.

“Are we focused, Y/N?”

“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”

Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”

“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”

“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”

“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?

And why did you keep noticing?

You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…

…a music box.

“Bingo,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.��

“Very original.”

“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.

Din laughed too. He understood immediately.

You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.

“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.

“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”

As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.

You were suddenly unmoving.

“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”

The box fell from your grip.

“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”

“What’s going on?”

You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.

It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.

“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.

“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.

You could never pasts their tests. Never.

“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”

His tone was unconvincing.

“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”

“You’ve gotta find a way out.”

“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”

“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”

You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.

“I-I found one.”

“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”

You sobbed once more. “How?”

“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”

You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.

You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.

Din didn’t respond.

You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.

Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.

You grunted, falling back into the room.

“You get it?” Din asked, panting.

“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good. Now stand up.”

You did.

“Walk to the window.”

You did.

“And jump.”

“What?”

“Jump now.”

It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.

You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.

A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.

You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.

You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.

You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.

“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”

Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.

“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”

You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

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wandasaura · 3 months

Text

SEE WHATS UNDER THAT ATTITUDE

summary — wanda intends to keep the promise she made to you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have to work to earn it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, heavy on the mommy kink, subspace, entrance of the oral fixation, degradation, praise, dumbification, light humiliation, fingering, ¿light nipple torture?, definitely nipple stimulation, teasing, edging, orgasm control, mention of orgasm denial, begging, crying, fake sympathy, biting, oral sex, overstimulation, forced orgasm, aftercare, men/minors dni

authors note — there are some russian exchanges between wandanat toward the beginning, i’ll add translations for at the end but if they’re not correct, blame google translate. this was highly requested so i hope it’s everything you’ve been waiting for!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff

The bed had been abandoned when you finally came to consciousness. The room was dark, the blinds drawn over the windows and blocking out sunlight, but the peaks of gold that kissed the trim around the windowsill was enough to gauge how late in the morning it was. The first sensation that crossed your mind was the lingering ache on the skin where Wanda’s had unforgivingly struck you half a hundred times, the second sensation that registered was the soft throb in your core that had been left unsatisfied hours earlier. A quiet whine rolled past your lips, filling the silent room with sound that was left unanswered. Your head still felt like it was filled with cotton, thoughts still hazy and disoriented.

Leaving the bedroom behind was a decision made lightly, but the absence of blankets over your shoulders felt like the cruelest punishment as you descended toward the living room. Wanda didn’t work in the office on Friday’s, or at least she tried not to most weeks. Typical Friday’s were spent in quiet company, if Natasha’s stories proved truthful, but the few times you’d spent the day in Westview had come with silence from the redhead who spent hours holed up in her office. It hadn't occurred to you then that she busied herself to avoid you, but with the only indication of her presence in the house coming from the laugh track behind some old eighties sitcom, you realized this was more typical of her routine.

Your footsteps were soft; careful and easy. It wasn’t intentional, nothing felt intentional in this state, but the sweetness of your mood could not be pushed further than soft taps of naked skin and quiet hums that tried to be words but fell flat. Wanda’s head craned in the direction of the stairs when she’d first heard the door creak on its hinges, counting down the seconds until you came into view. It was late, late enough for breakfast to have been eaten and dishes to have been washed, but even one glimpse at you could tell that you were still beneath the confines of subspace. She wasn’t surprised, slightly concerned, but not entirely surprised. She had pushed you farther than anyone ever had last night, careful of boundaries that had been set but still firm with her hand and treatment. She had forced you into submission in a manner that was unkind and dominant, she was not expecting you to stumble down the stairs in a clear state of mind, but the sight of your naked chest still bare of a shirt indicated just how far deep you were.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiled at you warmly, and you frowned in confusion when she didn’t incline her head toward the couch. You needed her to tell you what to do, wanted her to keep her grip on the reins and hold them tightly. Sensing your distress at this new sense of control, Wanda frowned realizing that her soft approach would not work you through this limbo. “Come here, baby.” The permission to approach that you had been waiting for finally came, and your feet that wouldn’t carry you forward without it started to move toward her again.

You stood in front of her with a silent question in mind, but Wanda was not willing to budge without the presence of your words. She needed to get you up, and coddling you was only a recipe for disaster. “Is there something you need, sweetheart?” Her approach was gentle, yet firm. Any harder and she would find the opposite effect of what she intended.

You nodded pleadingly, fingers coming up to sit in your mouth the same way hers had been last night. The sensation wasn’t the same, not even close, and that seemed to be too much to handle at this moment because tears that Wanda would deem ‘crocodile tears’ glimmered in your eyes. Even as your reserve crumbled, fingers falling back down to your sides and curling into the soft cotton of Natasha’s sleep shorts, she didn’t waver.

“Words, honey. I know you know how to use them. You used them very well last night.” Wanda tutted, shaking her head at your behavior dismissively. Your mouth opened and closed as you shifted through the haze in your thoughts attempting to string together a coherent sentence that articulated your wants to her.

When no more than a single word came to mind, you decided that had to be good enough, and nimbly you forced it past your chapped lips and into the space between your bodies, hoping it was loud enough to reach her ears, “Hold.”

A smile pulled at the corners of Wanda’s lips and she nodded at you encouragingly. “Of course I’ll hold you, sweetheart.” She pulled her arms away from the closed off position she had been maintaining, opening her posture up for your added weight.

You settled contently against her chest, your legs thrown over her hips. The position allowed relief to come to the sore skin on your bottom, and you hummed in satisfaction at the newfound release. Wanda laughed softly when a look of blissful realization settled on your dazed features, and her nails took full advantage of your exposed back as she placed feather light scratches to your spine. Natasha was fond of being held like this after an intense session, so it was no shock that you had come to like it too. Your head fell onto Wanda’s shoulder, just above the place where her heart sat.

“Nat!” Wanda called for her wife; said wife that you had yet to locate as the rest of the house sat in perfect silence. Natasha wasn’t a loud person, quite quiet actually, but there hadn’t even been an inkling in your mind that she lingered somewhere close, just barely out of sight. Your thoughts had been a one track road to Wanda, but at the call of Natasha’s name you were desperate for her all the same.

You picked your head up from Wanda’s shoulder, searching the room for any trace of Natasha that you could have possibly missed. Wanda smiled at your clear adoration for her wife, but guided your head back down to her chest when she noticed the thick haze coming over your eyes once more. She hadn’t had the pleasure of treating anyone with such tender dominance in years. Natasha was hard to break down to this point, her unwillingness to fully submit a persistent mental barrier, and Wanda was thankful to be useful in this way.

When Natasha appeared, blue light glasses keeping red hair from falling into her eyes, you realized that the reason she had been so hard to spot was because she was hidden away in the dining room, a place the couple rarely sat if it wasn’t for a meal.

“Yeah?” She asked, clearly confused about why Wanda had called for her instead of seeking her out physically, but when her eyes trailed to find her wife’s, she noticed your position against the Sokovian’s chest and a smug smirk pulled at her lips. Even if the bet hadn’t been made, she had still won. “Ona vse yeshche daleko vnizu, da?”

Wanda nodded her head at the question asked in Russian, her hand resuming its delicate scratching along your back. You hadn’t realized you had missed the feeling until it reappeared higher up your spine, but when it did and you weren’t expecting it, you shivered away instinctively. Wanda didn’t take your initial flinch as a reason to stop, and you were thankful because when she persisted, you melted into the touch. “Da, ty poydesh' za odnoy iz svoikh tolstovok? V obozrimom budushchem ya budu zapert zdes'.”

It could have been hours that you sat in silence with Wanda, or it could have been minutes, you honestly weren’t too sure about the passing of time around you, but you knew that you felt cared for, and you knew that you felt loved. You hadn’t understood the words that had been spoken in Russian over top of your head, but when Natasha had let her feet carry her upstairs and into the bedroom, you realized they’d been about you. The hoodie she came down with was soft, and Wanda had helped you into it with a practiced ease. That had been the most movement that had come from you, but Wanda didn’t make a fuss about your chosen stillness. She merely set her eyes on the reruns of old sitcoms, and occasionally whispered something sweet to you that required no verbal response. Somewhere in that mix, you had begun to bite at her shoulder, content to find that the sensation was the same pleasurable one you had found last night, and she hadn’t stopped you from further discovering it. It was when your head had finally cleared that you recognized the signs of hunger in your belly, remembering that dinner had been all but forgotten about last night, and when you pulled away from Wanda, her first instinct was to guide you right back down.

“I’m hungry.” You had protested her guidance, pushing against the hand that cradled the back of your head tenderly until she finally allowed you to sit straight up like you wanted.

“You back with me, dorogaya?” She double-checked, not wanting to blindly take your first coherent sentence as proof that you were fully functioning. She wanted to avoid a subdrop, knowing that it was a less than pleasurable experience and had caused Natasha a thick bout of depressive thoughts the one and only time she had failed to communicate her needs before they spiraled into darkness.

“Yeah.” Despite the clearness of your head, your words were still soft. The only time you ever came across harshly was when you tried to go toe to toe with Wanda. The redhead smiled at your affirmation, guiding you off her lap but not fully releasing control over to you just yet. She grabbed your hand, leading you into the kitchen where pots and pans dried on the mat beside the sink. You pouted, realizing that either her or Natasha had made pancakes and eggs for breakfast, and neither had woken you up to join in on the fun. “You had pancakes without me?” Was the first question that rolled off your tongue, and Wanda shook her head in bemusement that pancakes were your only concern.

“Your body needed the rest, moya lyubov’. I can make you some now if you want.” Wanda suggested, helping you up onto the counter despite your proven capability to do it yourself just fine. You didn’t shrug off her help, rather leaned into it, and pulled her in close when she dared to try and step away. You dropped your head onto her shoulder, feeling a desperate need to have her close. And again if she minded, she didn’t show it.

“I want cereal.” You decided, knowing that the women had cheerios shoved in the back of the pantry beside an unopened box of popcorn that you couldn’t quite place who it had been bought for. You didn’t know why they even bothered to buy anything that came in a box, considering in the near year that you had been frequenting the Maximoff residence you hadn’t seen them eat anything that wasn’t made on the stove, but right now it sounded like the perfect source of energy.

“That’s all?” Wanda frowned, prying your face away from her shoulder and forcing you to look into her eyes. You melted into her touch when she set her gaze on you firmly, pliant and willing in her grip. You hummed, your tongue poking out and swiping at the pad of her thumb that sat within licking distance on your cheeks. “That’s not going away anytime soon, huh?” Wanda laughed softly, pulling her hands away before you could get any bolder. She’d had her suspicions about your oral fixation, something was always in your mouth whether you realized it or not, it was truly only a matter of time before you realized how fun it was to have one of them between your teeth.

“Please?” You pouted, making puppy eyes at the pantry where the box of cheerios remained hidden. Wanda relented, her green eyes rolling backward into her head.

“You’re eating dinner tonight, milaya moya.” You merely shrugged at the compromise, simply glad to have gotten your way for now at the very least. She tapped your thigh in warning of her approaching absence, and though you had expected it to come if you wanted your cheerios, a whine still fell from your lips when she pulled away, instantly missing the warmth she provided.

You’d started to slip down from the counter when Wanda turned back around, only halfway to a pantry before you’d decided she’d been gone long enough. “Stay there, Mommy didn’t tell you that you could move.” The firmness that you had sought for earlier sent a rush of something different through your body hearing it now, but still eager to comply with her demands, you scooted back up onto the counter and tried your best to ignore the lingering ache in your untouched clit. You remembered her promise, remembered how she had so cruelly worked you up and left you dry. You didn’t think you could go another night with the sticky feeling between your thighs.

“Do you want milk with your cheerios, detka?” Wanda asked, her voice slightly muffled by the walls of the pantry that she had disappeared into. You nodded your head, forgetting that she couldn’t see you, but decided that you would just wait until she reappeared to tell her what you wanted. Words still felt too hard to grasp, and secretly you adored this special treatment that you’d never received before. When Wanda stepped out of the pantry, the familiar yellow box now in her hands, she asked again. “Do you want milk, honey?”

You nodded softly, pulling at the string of Natasha’s hoodie though you found them rather boring. You let your feet kick against the cabinet doors beneath where you sat, trying to occupy your attention with something other than the need in your core, having a feeling it wouldn’t be satisfied until you got something into your belly.

It was warm, too warm to be wearing a hoodie but in your foggy mindset and rush to find her, you had forgotten about the fact that you remained only half dressed. You sighed, pulling at the long sleeves until they came to your biceps, but even that couldn’t help you entirely.

“Words, honey.” Wanda reminded you firmly, and you kicked the cabinets beneath you rather harshly in response. You wanted her close to you, and yet she was standing halfway across the kitchen with her recently freed hands on her hips. The box of cheerios was placed on the island countertop, awaiting your direction of adding milk or a bowl or now. Wanda raised a daring brow, tilting her head to the side in a manner that was admittedly intimidating. “We aren’t going to go through this again, milaya. Do you want your cheerios with milk? Yes or no?”

“Yes.” You sighed, deflating on the counter as you itched to get down and cling onto her. You couldn’t comprehend the rush of feelings that overwhelmed your brain in the moment, but it felt like every choice you were forced to make only drove you farther and farther from a position of sanity. You wanted her to decide, wanted her to talk you through every process and choice. You were never this needy, never this dependent on somebody else, but the taste of total submission that you had been given was like a drug elementary schools never warned you about tasting.

“Good girl.” Wanda praised your willingness to comply, already maneuvering around the kitchen to acquire a bowl and the gallon milk from the fridge. You shone beneath her words, a shy smile gracing your lips as you tilted your head down toward your lap and tried to hide the flush on your cheeks. Wanda wasn’t blind to your reaction, but she spared you the embarrassment of knowing you’d been caught.

“Where’s Natty?” You whispered, suddenly realizing the woman was displaced from the pair of you, which was a rarity if you ever knew one. She had been in the dining room before, but now she was gone and yet her laptop remained on the table, the only object in the room that wasn’t in its perfect place.

Wanda smiled softly at your concern, a tad surprised it had taken you this long to realize that the Russian was missing. She didn’t let you dwell in that confusion, wanting your mind focused on one thing and one thing only; her. “Pepper faxed her over some files. Nothing you need to worry about, malyshka. Come eat.”

You wiggled down from the counter with a distinctive delicacy, a stark contrast to the usual faith you put into your ankles. Wanda appreciated your carefulness, smiling at you with unspoken praise that you had no time to hide from before she saw your faintest blush. Unlike every day that had come before this one, Wanda sat down at the island instead of gravitating toward the dining room. You brightened at the prospect of eating here, clamoring into her lap because there was absolutely no chance that you were sitting on your own. It seemed she hadn’t expected you to, because her arm tangled around your waist and her hand found its place on your thigh, dangerously close to where you wanted her most, but still too far away.

“Mommy promised you a reward, didn’t she?” Wanda hummed, her voice laced with a sultry silkness that would’ve been enough to have you weak in the knees on it’s own, but the deadly combination of her lust and her hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear, which Natasha had discovered was incredibly sensitive, was enough to completely melt your self restraint down to nothing.

A gasp fell from your lips, your head tilting to the side and allowing her lips all the room she needed to explore your unmarked skin. Your eyes fluttered closed, thoughts of cheerios dissipating. “Mommy.” You pleaded with her, hoping that she would relent in her teasing measures.

Her wet lips trailed down the side neck, and in the same second cold fingers bearing rings more expensive than you could even fathom moved the collar of Natasha’s hoodie out of her way. The caress of her lips didn’t last long, because as quickly as she’d began to suck a hickey on your collar bone that was sure to last at least a couple of days, she pulled away and the fingers still on your right thigh pinched the warm skin experimentally. “Eat. What Mommy does to your body is none of your concern, little girl.”

A guttural moan left your lips at her dismission, and although your brain was officially nothing but mush between bones, your trembling hand reached out for the spoon. The first mouthful of cheerios was rewarded by her fingers moving toward your core, the second by a sharp nip at the base of your neck. Every bite was followed by pleasure, and by the sixth, it was getting harder to think about anything other than release.

The lack of panties between your thighs had made access to your core disturbingly easy, and when you faltered on the seventh bite of cereal, your pulsing clit was pinched harshly between fingers that were still surprisingly cold. Your hips twitched in her lap, your head falling back onto her shoulder as you surrendered to the pleasure the sharp sensation had provided. Wanda hummed, taking your body's reaction into account for a later date.

“You’re not cumming until you finish eating. I suggest you keep going unless you want to find out how cruel I can be, malyshka.” It wasn’t a threat, but rather a promise, and you whimpered pathetically at the sharp bite to her words that satisfied every craving in your body.

“Mommy.” You pleaded when a single one of her deliciously slender fingers threatened to penetrate your weeping hole, toying with the wetness that had already dampened the pajama shorts on your hips.

“Shh, Mommy’s playing.” Wanda redirected your attention to the bowl of cereal that had become soggy in the minutes it had taken you to even make the smallest dent. You swallowed down a cry of frustration at her unwillingness to fold, but raised the spoon to your lips and forced your mouth to comply with her demands.

Every bite felt heavy and horrible against your tongue, but you somehow managed to persevere, even as her fingers wandered beneath the thick fabric of the hoodie and sought out to find your nipples that had been ignored thus far. At the first brush of her metal rings against your flushed skin you gasped, thankful that you had held off on taking another bite of your lunch because otherwise you would have choked.

“Such pretty sounds, milaya.” Wanda cooed, her lips back against the shell of your ear. Her tongue dared to lick at the skin of your neck, a stream of cold air sending shivers and shocks of pleasure shooting down your spine. “Do you like it when Mommy touches you? Huh? Do you like it when I play with this desperate little pussy however I please?”

“Please.” You writhed in pleasure, your eyes screwed shut impossibly tight. The single finger buried deep within your walls had quickly become two, and they curled against your softest spot with accuracy that should’ve concerned you had you been any more coherent than you were. Her pace was teasing, slow and unfulfilling, but that was entirely the point. “M-Mommy please!”

“Mommy’s not going to tell you no again. Little girls don’t get to make decisions. Little girls wait for Mommy to give them permission, and until she does so, they take what they’re offered.” You cried out in painful pleasure when Wanda sadistically twisted your nipple between her fingers, the sensation shooting right down to your core that wept around her fingers and squeezed them tight. “You can do that, can’t you? Be good for Mommy? Or are you just a dumb little baby?”

“I-I can! I can!” Despite the desperate need for more of anything she was willing to give you, your body tried pleadingly to arch away from her touch when your nipples became too sensitive to handle the sting she caused unforgivingly.

“How do you want Mommy to make you cum? With my fingers, or maybe my mouth? Do you want me to fuck this slutty cunt with a strap-on, are is that too much for my little baby to handle? Oh I bet you're so sensitive, kotenok. Nobody’s ever denied this pretty pussy before, have they?” Wanda’s fingers pointedly avoided your clit, and you're absolutely certain that one accidental touch would have you falling over the edge and into blinding pleasure.

“No!” You sobbed in frustration, your hips meeting her thrusts and she let you, knowing nothing she did would send you over that sought after edge until she let her fingers brush against your pulsing bundle of nerves. She had you right where she wanted you, right where you needed to be, even if you hadn’t realized this was the treatment you’d been wanting just yet.

“Oh, my poor girl. You still have so much to learn.” Wanda cooed though her sympathy was anything but genuine. You pushed the bowl away from you, shaking your head desperately, just needing her to take care of you. “You did so good.” Wanda kissed the side of your head, but her actions contradicted the praise she had fleetingly bestowed upon you. Her fingers left your aching core, effectively edging you as if that had been her goal all along. She smears strings of your arousal against the insides of your sensitive thighs, drying her fingers on your skin. You cried out at the loss of pleasure, desperately grabbing her wrist and attempting to draw it back closer, but she didn’t allow you to win. “I’m not taking you in the kitchen, milaya. You deserve better than that.”

She guided you to your feet easily, a firm hand on your back the only thing that kept you upright when your knees threatened to buckle beneath your full weight. You grabbed at her hand desperately, wanting to keep her close as she led you through the house and up the stairs. Throughout the journey, her lips had found entertainment in seeking out soft spots on your neck that had been otherwise neglected in the kitchen. A shaky moan fell from off the tip of your tongue when her teeth nipped at the edge of your jaw, and in that moment you had forgotten how to walk as you stood stock still and stiff as a board in the middle of the stairs, leaning backward into her touch pleading for more.

“Keep going. Mommy will take care of you soon.” Wanda coaxed, and desperate to listen, you complied with the request, hoping that this time around, soon actually meant what it was supposed to.

When you passed by Natasha’s office, where you suspected the woman had migrated to work on the files that Pepper had sent over, the door was closed and light peaked out from the cracks between floor and white oak. You barely had time to pout about her absence before Wanda was pulling you in the direction of the bedroom, simultaneously making quick work of getting you free of the clothes that you drowned in so cutely. Though Natasha wasn’t much taller than you, the woman had a bad habit of buying clothes three sizes too big if they weren’t going to be worn with the intention of maintaining professional appearances. Despite how you had grown to be too hot in the hoodie that covered your torso, the initial absence of it had caused a rush of cold to assault your spine and you shivered beneath Wanda’s heavy hands. Your shorts were the last thing to fall to the floor in a heap.

“So pretty, malyskha.” Wanda praised your fully naked body, running a single feather light touch down the front of you, starting just below your chin, down between the valley of your breasts, and stopped only just before your throbbing clit begging for release. You gasped and moaned at the ticklish sensations she so easily provoked, chasing her touch when it vanished too quickly. “So responsive too. Mommy’s going to have so much fun playing with you.”

“Please!” You sobbed, wide eyes filled with desperation and need that only she could quench. Your hands trembling with lust and pent up frustration pulled at the hem of the old t-shirt adorning her body, attempting to get rid of it the same way she had done for you.

Complying with your request, not willing to sacrifice her own desperation to fully get her hands on you any longer then she already had, Wanda stripped out of her shorts and t-shirt with ease. One too many office quickies with Natasha had forced her to become sufficient with the act of undressing, and the skills, though rusty from lack of recent use, hadn’t failed her now despite the months it had been since she’d last taken her insatiable wife on the couch in her corporate office. When she was naked, every inch of her skin available for your eyes to admire for the very first time, she leaned in to meet your lips with a kiss that was softer than she had been all day. The single action had eased your anxious thoughts, and you leaned into the embrace just as easily as she had.

When her lips separated from yours, swollen and pink and wet with your saliva, her hand reached up to grab your chin and force your eyes on hers. “I expect you to use your safewords if you need to. This is not about me, this is about you. Do you understand me, milaya?”

“Yes.” You breathed out desperately, your hands settling on her hips, pulling them closer when you felt like she was too far away.

“Good. Get on the bed.” She grinned sadistically down at you, taking full advantage of the few inches she had over you. There was something dark in her eyes, something you had only gotten the shortest glimpse of last night, and you swallowed thickly as the promise of feeling her touch on your body for hours after this moment ended, but you complied with her request just as quickly as it came. There was no way you were going to go against her now, not when she had so carefully unraveled your brain and you were finally on the cusp of getting what you had long since sought after and been promised.

You scrambled onto the center of the bed the Sokovian shared every night with the Russian, laying flush on your back with your elbows propping up your torso. Your eyes trailed Wanda’s every movement as she disappeared into the closet without a single spoken word, but knowing what lies within the four walls of the walk-in, you could only anticipate what she returned with. Desperately you rubbed your thighs together, gathering that she wouldn’t take kindly to your hand relieving the ache she created and single-handedly wanted to soothe. It hadn’t been more than three minutes before she returned, and you noted that between her legs was the presence of something pink. Her hands carried the cooling lotion she’d used last night, and the red strap-on that Natasha had pounded you with weeks ago in her office. A stuttered moan filled the quiet of the master bedroom, and ever so seductively Wanda crawled over your body on the bed, close enough for her nipples to drag against your skin, but far enough away for her lips to ghost over yours.

“Have you decided how you want me to use you, dorogaya?” She laid her accent on thicker than you had ever heard, straddling your hips as her arms sat on either side of your head, trapping you beneath her.

You nodded frantically, forcing your eyes to stay locked on hers, wanting to remember every inch of her face in this moment in case it was the only time you’d see it. “I want– I want your mouth. A-and your fingers.”

“Both?” Wanda teased, her eyes glowing with dominance. “What a greedy girl. I suppose I can give you both, but it won’t come without a price. Are you willing to pay, milaya?”

You nodded your head frantically, desperate to give her whatever she wanted from you. That seemed to please Wanda, who smirked down at you before her lips ghosted over your lips and trailed down your neck that craned instantaneously in response. Her tongue licked a bold stripe over the center of your neck, and just when you’d anticipated her to keep moving lower, she trailed back up again. This was the price, you realized quickly. She was going to tease you until you broke completely, and there was nothing you could do about it, nothing you wanted to do about it.

Her teeth nipped and bit at your skin that had been dampened by her tongue, but she made no efforts to mark you entirely. She wasn’t interested in wasting time on leaving hickeys that would fade in days, much rather devoting her efforts and energy into making you squirm beneath her with sensations that were intense, but not strong enough to cause real pleasure. Your clit throbbed in tune with her ministrations, your entrance pulse at the emptiness. It was only when you’d started to grow accustomed to the feeling of her tongue lapping at your neck did she move lower, plush lips wrapping around your nipple and creating a ruthless seal of suction. Your back arched into her, your fingers that had been fisting the comforter shot toward her back, and blunt nails that had been bitten down to numbs scratched mercilessly at her skin.

Wanda hummed in satisfaction at your reaction, her teeth tugging at your sensitive bud between her lips while her fingers worked on your other. She pulled teasingly, pinched evilly, and twisted when you just didn’t seem to be enjoying it as much as she wanted you to. Her goal was to have you screaming, crying out for a god that she didn’t believe to exist. There was no god in the master bedroom of the Maximoff residence, only a Sokovian lawyer consumed by nearly a year's worth of pent up lust and frustration. When she was satisfied that she had punished your right nipple enough for the time being, not wanting to cause you an exceeding amount of pain though there didn’t even seem to be a glimpse of it on your scrunched up and sweaty face, she moved her mouth to the left, and replaced what was lost by cruel fingers.

“I wonder how long it would take for you to cum from just this.” Wanda released your nipple with a pop, speaking softly into the silence that was only attempted to be filled by the low buzz of the vibrator between her legs and your moans of intense pleasure. “Mommy’ll have to test that one day.”

Unable to handle her teasing for another minute longer, you sobbed out in desperate need for something more, and the fingers that had successfully marked angry red lines into the once untouched skin of her back moved up to grab handfuls of her auburn hair. “Please. P-Please. Please. I need y-your mouth. I need– I need– Mommy, pozhaluysta!”

Wanda froze at the trace of Russian that fell from your lips in a desperate attempt to persuade her into folding before she was willing. She hated to admit that it worked, and that before you could even continue to beg for mercy, her lips were kissing a wet trail down your belly until they fell firmly around your clit. A broad stripe was licked across your core, wetness collected on the tip of her tongue that she swallowed down with a needy moan of her own. A single hand reached between her legs and increased the speed of the vibrator that had been set at a teasing pace since she’d first grabbed it in the closet.

“Okay baby. Okay. Let Mommy take care of you, no more teasing. We're all done with that.” She cooed, not giving you a single second to doubt her promise before her fingers were falling into your glistening folds just as easily as they had in the kitchen. You gasped at the initial stretch of two cold digits working you open, but her mouth distracted you when she took your clit between her teeth and tauntingly bit at your pleading bundle of nerves. The fingers coiled around strands of pin straight dyed hair pulled her closer, and your hips had adopted a mind of their own as you rocked against her face with a feverish need. Curses and moans tumbled past your lips in incoherent bundles, and just as she felt your walls clenching around her curled up fingers with the telltale indication of an approaching orgasm, the vibrator between her legs brought her to the same pace. “Hold it. Hold it for Mommy, baby.”

You shook your head, fingers pulling her head even closer. “I can’t! Can’t, Mommy! C-Can’t.” The movements of your hips had become jerky and unpredictable, but before you could hurt yourself or her, Wanda’s hand that wasn’t buried between your legs forced you still and compliant. “I-I’m gonna– Mommy!”

“Cum for me, malyshka. Make a mess all over Mommy’s face.” Wanda’s words of encouragement thrummed against your clit, and with permission to finally unravel beneath her hands, you let the coil burning in your lower belly snap with a blinding white rush of pleasure. Her fingers didn’t stop until you were trying to push them away, and even once they left her tongue remained. Your exhausted body writhed beneath the too intense to bare pleasure, and your whines of sensitivity mixed with hers. You were actively aware of how she was moaning against your core, her hot breath an additional sensation that was quick to make you overly stimulated despite how long you’d sought for this. Her hips grinded against the blankets between her thighs, but they came to a stuttering stop seconds after your own hips tensed and stilled on their own accord. Despite her own end of pleasure, fingers sticky with your arousal pulling the toy out from her own entrance, her tongue was relentless against yours. “Shhh, let Mommy clean you up.”

“Too much!” You cried out, going limp beneath her wandering hands, but she didn’t let up, and that coil had formed again quickly in combination with her double-downed efforts and your existing sensitivity. Wanda remained dutiful, and her tongue was undoubtedly skilled as she pulled yet another orgasm from you in a matter of minutes. This time, she did pull away, leaving a single soft kiss against your abused clit before the touch was completely gone.

“You did so good for me, moya lyubov’. Mommy’s so proud of you.” Wanda peppered your face with kisses, touching every inch of available skin with her lips drenched in cum. You giggled at the sensation, pushing her away when your cheeks began to ache from smiling so hard. She fell onto her side beside you in the bed, arms looping around your waist and pulling you into her chest firmly. Her fingers dug into your hips, keeping you flush against her front, and the words she let meet your ears had melted your heart in seconds. “My girl.”

“Mmm.” You sighed contently, snuggling into her with no intentions of moving away anytime soon. “Hi.” You looked up into her eyes, a drunken smile pulling the corners of your lips upward.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Wanda giggled, taking your face into her hands and pressing a sweet kiss to the crease between your eyebrows. “What’s that thinking face for?”

You shook your head, humming softly as you further melted into the soft bed beneath you. When her hands trailed away from where they cupped your cheeks, you took one of them between your own hands, spinning the rings adorning her fingers around her knuckles. “Not thinking. Just… happy.”

Wanda smiled, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the only expanse of your palm that she could reach with the way you were grasping her hand so possessively. “Yeah? I’m glad you’re happy, sweetheart. I’m happy too.”

“Your bed is comfy.” You grinned at her, bringing your fingers up to trace across her lips that had kissed every inch of your skin so intimately and passionately. You shrieked in laughter when she snapped her teeth at you, just barely catching the tip of your finger before you pulled it protectively into your chest.

“I never would’ve guessed you find my bed comfy, little one.” Wanda teased, because obviously she knew that you did. You weren’t subtle with the ways you all but threw yourself into it whenever you were given the chance. Her sage eyes trailed behind you when she saw the slightest shift of light beneath the closed door, a shadow unwilling to enter looming behind it. “Stop hovering and just come in, Natalia.” Wanda called out to her wife, though her eyes briefly flickered down to your face when your teeth found a place around her fingers in the handful of seconds that she had been distracted. Wanda only shook her head in amusement, overly fond of your new habit.

“Well if this isn’t my new favorite sight.” Natasha smirked her eyes trailing over both naked bodies in the center of her bed. Setting two bottles of chilled water down on her nightstand before she let her weight shift the bed, there was a silent conversation shared between the two lawyers with nothing more than eye contact and inclines of heads. Natasha’s hand brushed strands of hair away from your face that was practically smothered into Wanda’s naked chest, and she rolled her eyes adoringly when she found that you were chewing on her wife’s fingers like a puppy. “Still feeling kinda floaty, detka?” The Russian hummed, easing her body down against the headboard so that she didn’t have to remain kneeling beside you.

Unwillingly to let Wanda’s fingers fall from your mouth, you mumbled around them carefully, not wanting to accidentally hurt her and lose this new privilege. “No.”

“You wanna let Daddy put some more lotion on you then? It’s looking kinda red, moya lyubov’.” Natasha’s fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, and she pulled at them tenderly the way she knows you like when you need a minute to decompress but don’t want to be alone. A quiet sigh slips past your lips, but it’s muffled by Wanda’s fingers before either one of them have the chance to hear it fully, though they’ve grown quite used to your muffled words and sounds seeing as half the strings on their hoodie are marked with indents of your teeth. The Sokovian teasingly wiggles the digits against your tongue, only to be met with you biting down on them in an attempt to get her to stop teasing you.

“No biting.” She reprimands, though the sharp sensation hadn’t hurt her. You amend the mistake with a well intended suckle, shuffling even closer to her chest until the swell of her breasts blocked out the impeding sunlight. “Come here, baby.” Wanda gently coaxed you fully on top of her body, your sensitive chests pressing together in a way that makes you whine. “You’re sensitive, I know. But, Daddy’s going to put some more lotion on your ass. We don’t want it to really start hurting.”

When Natasha first laid her hands on your ass, the cooling lotion significantly colder than you had been expecting had caused your entire body to stiffen. Your teeth nervously gnawed at Wanda’s fingers, your tongue flicking across the band of her engagement ring. Her soft assurances calmed you effectively, and with reassurances of it being just Natty that touched and her hands would warm up soon, you began to relax into the sensation.

When the Russian was done, she left a lingering kiss to the end of your spine, her lips trailing up the dip in your back until she pressed them against your shoulder blades. “Good girl.” Natasha praised you promisingly before she fell flush against the mattress and let herself sink in beside you and Wanda, her files forgotten about for the foreseeable future.

Ona vse yeshche daleko vnizu, da? — she's still pretty far down, huh?

Da, ty poydesh' za odnoy iz svoikh tolstovok? V obozrimom budushchem ya budu zapert zdes'. — yeah, will you go get one of your hoodies? i'll be trapped here for the foreseeable future.

pozhaluysta — please

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

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starzblvd · 5 months

Text

Counting Seconds | Ellie Williams

synopsis; A new special way to welcome the new year in Ellie’s old bedroom during a party

an; Wishing everyone a happy new years !! I’m going to be eating grapes under the table and following superstitions🤍

established relationship, panty play, some spit play(?), scissoring, fingering (receiving), dom!ellie sub!reader

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Back in Jackson Ellie agreed to help host a New Year’s party with Joel, Dina, Jesse. Of course any of your friends or family were free to join.

Considering the party was held in the house Ellie was raised in during her youth she took the liberty to dress more comfortably. The party was open invite, more people than you’d thought ended showing up. It was a lively party, everyone had plenty of things to talk about since the night was still young. The music would have been irritatingly loud if not for it being New Year’s Eve. Opposite of Ellie, you dressed up and did your hair up. Black mini skirt and your favorite top, now fixing a few flyaway hairs in the bathroom mirror, then you heard someone’s knocking outside the door.

“I’ll be out in a sec!”

Ellie turned the knob and let herself in when she heard your familiar voice, walking in to hug you from behind making eye contact through the mirror. “Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”

“We have to make it to midnight El’s.”

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Now that it was closer to midnight your vow to stay awake didn’t sound so important. The loudness of the music had the opposite effect, instead keeping you alert it was almost like a lullaby easing you to sleep. Ellie didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, she was swirling her drink by the glass rim staring at the performances on the television.

With her back turned to you, leaning in you clutch her waist in allowing your head to rest on Ellie, using her back as a pillow. Maybe this way you’d find it easier to make it to the end of the night. Ellie caught on early how you were currently struggling to stay up with how you sighed, then breathing back in her sweetly tart perfume scent.

“Cmon, getting tired already? We’re just half an hour away,”

Putting aside her drink on the table, she held her hand on top of your own. Ellie nudged you buy rolling her shoulder to hopefully open your eyes from their half lidded position, but you responded by groaning against her spine and squeezing her to let you stay like that a little longer. Long enough for you to see the clock strike zero.

Standing behind her, Ellie looked from the left of the room to the right checking the coast to make sure not one person would notice to arise suspicion for her next moves. People were on the other side of the room so she took this as her sign to go. “I need to show you something.”

A quieted low laugh came from her while prying your hold away. Ellie held her arm out to you still looking everywhere else to make sure she’s slipping away quietly. Treading more on your toes than your heels you followed her up the steps of the staircase ascending away from the party. Upstairs the music was muffled, Ellie geared towards her room kicking the door open with the tip of her shoe. The hinges squeaked like in annoyance with how she never used the handle, inside her old room the walls were painted a muted blue.

Posters pinned up of almost everything she’d ever taken an interest in, memorabilia of her teen years in every corner of her room. The current studio in your shared apartment shared so many similarities to this room, it was cute really.

Ellie rolled her eyes at your staring, grinning she anchored you down with her weight onto the bed to sit next to her. Immediately she was leaning into your body kissing you fast onto your lips, then your cheeks, then the bottom of your jaw. By now you’ve gotten a hint of her intentions of bringing you alone.

“El’s there’s people below”

“A few kisses isn’t gonna scare them,”

Being so close her words ticked on your skin and so did her seemingly never ending peppered kisses. Regardless of being on a different floor, paranoid you kept your giggles hushed to not be heard by any other soul than Ellie’s.

Slipping from her original spot she sunk down to the ground onto her knees, poised right before you. Putting your hands together for her to kiss the soft skin of your fingers, Ellie was savoring you slowly as to make sure not to miss any part of you. With both legs pressed together you could feel a new need for her. Subconsciously squeezing and tensing your thighs together didn’t help the surge of impatience for attention from you. It would be embarrassing for how quickly you got like this if Ellie wasn’t the same.

“El’s,”

“What are you so whiny for?”

She whispered and even her chuckling was brought down to the same volume you spoke. Except Ellie didn’t plan on keeping so quiet the entire time. She rode the fabric of your skirt up delicately letting the sheen of the moons light gloss your thighs. Whether you choosing to opt out on wearing safety shorts tonight specifically was intentional or not, she pulled the sides of your panties up making a clear, tight display of your puffy lips. Allowing, no, begging her to get closer you further separated your legs apart, leaning back onto the support of your forearms staring down at Ellie giving her lips a coat of saliva with a quick lick.

At first she plunged in with the tip of her nose bumping your clit before moving her face up to properly kiss it. Bringing the panties even more higher up your torso the fabric scrunched to be enveloped in between your folds, exposing how’d your body quickly opened up yearning for Ellie.

Keeping the panties in front of your cunt she put some pressure in sticking her thumb in, only a bit. Ellie was acting insufferable only giving you teases, pushing down onto her finger only made her retract her hand and body back.

“You gotta hold off a little, can’t go giving it up so easily,”

“but, I want to.”

”you sure about that?”

Placing her hand back onto your crotch bottom side wrist up, her index took no time to force the soaked underwear out and to the side, easily plunging into you with her middle finger too, squishing the wetness while doing so. Whimpering louder than you’d like to let out was more embarrassing and nerve racking given the situation outside the door. Wiggling her fingers up and down outed the absolute messy sticky slush you had created in the few passing minutes.

Touching up on the spongey spot inside you with her long fingers completely lost in you, by now you’d wish Ellie moved faster.

On the shelf of the headboard there was a digital clock that had the seconds in the corner ticking by, counting down. 11:53. Ellie shifts upwards putting a knee up on the edge of the bed between your legs, doing this she slid out from you to grab the clock.

Ellie smiled at the red illuminated digits scoffing at it, soft and raspy “I can use this.”

Watching her pushing herself up from the ground to sit besides you, Ellie grazed your skin trailing up your thighs to completely remove and get rid of your panties. Slowly, she moves a bit back to lower her head to kiss your exposed clit, to suck it into her mouth with her lips so she could touch it with the tip of her tongue, plopping it back out with a coat of Ellie’s spit.

Bringing her head up to meet your face she smooshed your lips into another kiss, but you were needy now. Wasting no time to unbuckle her belt, not bothering to take it out the loops instead just pulling down her jeans along with her underwear. You could feel her heavy breathing on your top lip,

“I’ve been needing this all night.”

Ellie kicked her jeans off with each leg, pushing down onto you while cupping your hips. Now you were laid down completely on your arched back, raising your right leg up to her shoulder. When you easily offered yourself up for her like this she couldn’t ignore her urges anymore and immediately straddled her body onto you groaning a moan out when she could put her throbbing cunt on yours. Starting to rock on top of you, moving on you felt like continuous weaker orgasms that fluttered by. Meanwhile you were teased and touched the entire time so far, Ellie didn’t get to receive any attention on her own cunt, keeping everything inside her pants. Letting for her self made mess by watching you, playing with you, to pool and drown itself in itself before meeting yours. Whatever silence on the upper floor remained was filled with the slippery noises that came with the desires of each other and not to quiet moans.

“I need to fuck-…fucking see your tits.”

Her words came out trembling off her lips, like being almost out of breath, obliging by Ellie’s demands you grabbed the hem of your top pulling it off, trying to yank your bra right off too, disregarding the clasps in the back. Ellie copied your actions and brought her t-shirt over her head making her hair all disheveled, it was easier considering Ellie only ever wore sport bras.

Once your nipples got hit by the colder air and hardened she scooped both boobs into her palms to make some cleavage while they bounced back and forth. Looking up, the glowing stars placed on the ceiling started rocking back and forth too. Ellie let go one of her hands to pick the clock back up, staring at the seconds it was 17 seconds til midnight struck. Slowing down the speed she was going at she turned over the clock so you’d see the seconds go down for yourself.

“what are you showing-“

“We’re going to..make it to..zero.”

Ellie was seriously dedicated to pin pointing both of your climaxes the moment it became midnight. Placing the clock below your boobs staring the seconds down with furrowed brows, refusing to give you the satisfaction of cumming before she said so.

“10.” Ellie started counting down, thrusting only once.

“9” Not getting any faster. People started joining in counting down, quiet between numbers.

“8” One hand cupped her own breast while the other cupped yours.

”7” She squished the bundle of nerves in your nipple.

“5” Moving just faster to pick up pace, careful to not set her off.

“4” Forgetting to be careful.

“3” You could fell yourself on the very urge to unravel.

“2..fuck it.” Inconsiderate of the time Ellie pushed herself down on your clit with hers, sliding down on your slick, cumming right outside your cunt entrance. Downstairs people erupted into screams, they couldn’t hear Ellie’s broken stuttering moan, but maybe they could hear the high moan close to a yell you let out right after hers. The liquid slid down to the duvet, it was mixed with your cum and even more so with the last gentler thrusts.

Ellie collapsed right on top of you sandwiching the clock in the middle of your sweaty bodies. Kissing your cheek she blew a strand of hair from your face away, she looked tired but elated. Ellie lifted herself up to properly look at you,

“I can’t wait to love you for another year.”

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x wife!reader Summary: Your husband takes nesting to a whole new level with the paradise he’s found to start his family. Warnings: established relationship, pregnant!reader, fluffiness WC: 1.4k

The property Sebastian had chosen to raise his children upon was everything you could have dreamt of and more. There were rolling meadows full of fragrant flowers, forests of conifers and evergreens, and even a lake with an abundance of trout. The house he had designed was built using recycled material and was sustainable to run with the dozens of solar panels on the roof. He had truly future proofed everything to live a life as environmentally friendly as possible.

“Did you know honey is the only food that doesn’t spoil if you store it properly?” Sebastian barely looked up from the old set of drawers he was upcycling into an apiary. “There were pots of honey found in ancient tombs in Egypt, around 3000 years old.”

“I still don't see why we need bees at our home.”

“Because, my love,” he said as he placed his hammer down and pulled you into his arms, “this is our future we are building. Without bees there’s no pollination, with no pollination there’s no flowers, or fruit and vegetables.” His hand splayed across your swollen belly, feeling his son’s kicks against his palm with a smile. “It’s our responsibility to protect our future.”

The outdoor sofa where you were reading was a current favourite place of yours. It was tranquil and warm and allowed you to get off your feet for a little bit while your husband pottered around in the garden. With only a few weeks to your due date everything ached from your neck to your ankles so you kicked your feet up and listened to the birdsong.

The hiss of pain was one you had come to know well recently and it only took a minute for Seb to appear at the edge of the garden, the metal gate squeaking on its rusted hinge. He cupped one hand over his cheek, one eye closed with a wince as he ascended the stairs to the deck.

“You wouldn’t get stung if you used the smoke, love,” you softly reminded him as he took a seat and pulled his hand away. “Oh dear, that’s a big one.”

“We don’t know the long term effect the smoke has on them, it could be poisoning them,” he said as he turned his head so you could use your nails to pull the stinger out without squeezing more toxin into his cheek. “They will recognise me soon and realise I’m not going to hurt them.”

“If you say so.” You loved your husband but you weren’t so sold on the trust building exercise he found himself in. More often than not after going to check the beehive you found yourself in this position, grateful he wasn’t allergic. “How is your queen doing?”

His lips pulled up into a smile and he sat down on the edge of the seat, pulling your feet onto his lap and massaging your swollen ankles. “You tell me, my sweet, how are you doing?”

Emotions swelled in your chest and you cursed as he laughed, leaning closer to wipe away the tear that escaped. “Damn these hormones. You should really stop being so nice so my poor tear ducts can have a break. Can’t you just be a jerk?” His laugh grew and with it the kicks increased. “Yes, yes, daddy’s laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at your mother,” he chuckled, lifting your shirt to press his lips to your belly. Stretch marks littered the skin and you dared not to think about the other changes that you couldn’t see below the swell, but he still made you feel beautiful. “Everything she is going through is my fault.”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a smile. “Daddy spent a lot of time romancing and seducing me, and now here you are.”

Seb looked up, his long hair hanging in naturally soft waves around his face. “How could I not? You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I could hardly concentrate on the race after seeing you.”

“It couldn't have affected you too much,” you said as you tucked his hair behind his ear, “you still won.”

“I had to make a good impression somehow, since I could barely speak a word when we were introduced,” he admitted as he looked out over the garden he tendered.

You followed his gaze knowing he was going to be a great father considering the care he gave to the garden, and you. “It was your eyes I fell for anyway, they looked sweet and kind.”

The rows of plants were just flowering and you traced them to see the little bursts of yellows that all too soon would become bright red ripe tomatoes. Next were the beans, too many varieties to count, all climbing the trellis Seb had made from the wood of fallen trees in the forest. Further beyond were your favourites, the bushes that were brimming with berries of every flavour. Each morning you would amble your way to them with Seb and a bowl, pointing out the juiciest looking berries for him to pick for your smoothie.

Patting his good cheek, you shuffled to sit up and swing your legs off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

With a groan you pulled yourself to your feet and rubbed the straining skin at your sides. “To get some ice to stop that swelling,” you said as you pointed to his face. “You need to be able to see properly if you are thinking about getting back in a race car this weekend.”

“I can get it, you rest.” He followed you into the house even after catching the roll of your eyes and watched you struggle to bend down to reach the ice tray at the bottom of the freezer. Unable to stop himself, his hands caught your waist and straightened you up before he grabbed the tray. “I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said with a kiss to your temple.

“I said the same thing, but you still went and got stung.”

“But that’s because I have you to kiss me better.”

You smiled at the softness in his tone and gave him the gentlest of kisses to his swollen cheek, barely the touch of a butterfly's wing. “There, is that better?”

“Yes, I don’t even need this anymore,” he said as he turned to put the tray away until you stopped him with an amused look.

“Nurburgring,” you reminded him, grabbing a tea towel to wrap the ice cubes in.

He had been excited since he got the call from Christian Horner to drive the historic track, and in a car modified to run on eco-friendly fuel no less. He was not going to do anything to miss the opportunity to return to the racetrack, even though he enjoyed retirement and the quiet life he had built in the rural settlement. So, he quietly accepted the ice pack and carefully pressed it to his cheek.

“It’s a dangerous track, Seb,” you murmured as you took over holding it, cradling his other cheek with your palm. “Please be safe and come home in one piece.”

His hands came to rest on your stomach, nearly covering it all as he splayed his fingers apart. “Of course, my love. And you need to stay in one piece until I get home.”

You giggled and felt the strong kick responding to his voice. “I have a feeling your son will take his time. Would you resort to one of those dreadful planes if he decides to come early?”

His lips twitched in amusement, used to your jibing over the consciousness of his carbon footprint. “I could probably drive home faster, with a few speeding tickets along the way, but I might be able to lower myself to boarding a plane for him.”

“Ah, that’s a father’s love,” you giggled. “He doesn’t even know what a sacrifice that would be.”

Sebastian lowered the ice pack so he could dip his head and kiss you. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of you.”

“Except get rid of the bees.”

His lips curled against yours in a smile you felt. “Except that.”

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #Sebastian Vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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comfortless · 2 months

Note

Priest!König and succubus!reader perhaps 👀? (Unless you're uncomfortable)

cracking my knuckles… sin??

18+. minors do not interact. this is a little shameless. corruption kink, religion, implied virgin!König, cunnilingus, come eating, a little angst.

It’s rare to find a parishioner in the confessional this late; the church’s doors were always open, their opening and shutting is not what had König stirring from a restless sleep, but the creaking of the old hinges in that little booth certainly had. The priest hurriedly dresses himself in his cassock and makes his way to the opposite end, closing the door behind him as he wearily drags himself to his seat.

“Father,” the voice greets on the other side, so soft and quiet he can hardly hear her at all. Shy, almost. The woman on the other side seems to shift, her movement rustling against the boards of wood that separate them.

“Bless me… I have never made a confession before.”

Not a parishioner, then. A stranger coming under the veil of night… König allows a silence to settle over the confessional for a moment before he produces the holy text and sets it in his lap in preparation to free this poor woman from the sin that binds her.

“Go on then, child,” he encourages, tone mirroring her own. The priest anticipates the usual: admissions of lust, falsehoods, or the common doubts. He has pages dog-eared in his book that list of scriptures for those common problems, the ones he would easily find the words to pray for, to cleanse her soul, to hopefully return to his bed to sleep before morning prayers.

There’s laughter from the other side of the booth, muffled as though an attempt to stifle it beneath her palm had been made. Then, “Father, what if I do not wish to be absolved?”

There had been no preparations made for that, but something in the tone of her voice holds his attention. His side of the booth regains its silence as his brow pinches, determined to piece together some reasoning as to why someone would choose to play some dull prank on him of all people…

“Let me see you.”

Her demand catches him off guard again, but of all things this is hardly strange. Her tone suggests nervousness, a feeling he knows all too well as he wrings his hands and rises with a heavy sigh. The door shuts quietly behind him as he waits for the woman to follow suit. A soft rustling follows his leaving from her side, and when she does step out…

No amount of internal Hail Marys could keep his stare from lingering upon the sight of a woman nude: it isn’t that he hasn’t fantasized before, he would take his lashes and fastings and sit in the quiet of his room to comfort himself with prayer after a weak defeat to his own sins. Still… imagination could not compare to the real thing; he takes note of each soft curve, each dip and line and groove of her. Her breasts are soft, her hips enticing, the length of her legs and what lies between her thighs…

He damns himself the moment his cock twitches to life below the cassock, there’s no slow tensing; only the immediate feeling of feeling horribly confined within his own clothes. He breathes out a drawn out sigh, feigning disinterest when his eyes squeeze shut and he turns his head from her.

“… You need to leave.”

The woman’s lips purse in a small pout when he does will himself to meet her eyes again- just her eyes. No part of him wishes to lose his place in heaven, let alone take advantage of some poor lady who clearly must have lost—

“But you are so lonely… I only want to help,” she whispers, her eyes are wet and pleading, expression only further softening as she gazes up at him with an adoration he hasn’t even seen on his flock.

And those words… something shatters in him, breaks into a thousand tiny pieces when he recounts all of those miserable nights lying in bed alone, imagining a woman as he pulled his cock free and gave himself so many weak, dull orgasms that the skin of it began to sting. If God could forgive him for his weakness then… surely, just once he could allow this.

König sighs again when her hands move to free him of the cassock, but he does not take her wrist to stop her. Even with each hesitant motion, he doesn’t take her wrists into his hands or push her away. He lets her strip him bare, lets her see the way his cock drools at the sight of her and his breath seems to stutter in his chest.

“See? It’s alright,” she coos as she takes his face into her gentle hands. There’s Hell in her eyes, the devil on a forked tongue, but he allows her to guide his face downward, to bring his mouth to her tit, and he feasts upon her. To have his last supper be forbidden fruit… all of the metaphors buzz in his head when his tongue begins to circle her nipple, then the other without her even needing to prompt him.

He could not even begin to describe the sounds she made, like the softest of voices amidst the roaring of a choir in his head, Hell’s wailing and Heaven’s chiming all at once as he licks his way down her sternum, her middle and finds his nose pressed to her mound. Nothing in Heaven could have tasted as sweet as her, no amount of lashing could pull the same shudder from him as he feels course through each knob of his spine when his tongue lathes over her slit, up to the hood of her clit and back.

The sounds of her pleasure only increase further when his grip on her thighs forces her to kneel. He maneuvers her onto her hands and knees to lick her properly, eat her out in ways he had only imagined himself doing before as he grips his weeping manhood in one hand and grips her ass with the other. His tongue sweeps over her in repetition— sloppy, clumsy even as he tries to keep himself from spilling into his palm from her taste and the sight alone.

He gets… curious, flicks his tongue over her other hole too and his fingers move to graze over her clit. She encourages him with soft squeals of pure delight, even draws her hand back to touch herself while he spears his tongue in her hole. If it’s only once, he would be sure to make the most of it.

Lust is not his only sin, because pride wells up deep inside of him the moment she orgasms. He smiles, grins, before he buries his tongue back into her leaking cunt, desperate to consume her, lapping inside, around, over her her until she shivers and whines, saying that it’s far too much.

He doesn’t know how to fuck her properly, admits it sheepishly when she lies back on the floor intent to have her take him in some gentle manner, sweet for her sweet priest. Missionary of all things seemed most blasphemous considering where they are, beneath a holy roof.

So, she opts to climb into his lap, seats herself on his cock in one go. He knows he’s well-endowed, thick and lengthy, and he babbles his concerns about breaking her in a weak string of words. Her cunt is too tight, he feels the way she stretches to accommodate him, each ridge of her walls when she squeezes him… The woman only tosses her head back and laughs, digs her nails into his shoulders as she bounces on his cock with such an easy grace he can’t watch— can’t because he already feels himself beginning to tense, feels the blinding heat spread from the pit of his stomach to pull his balls taut.

He swears he sees the angels right before she pulls off of him, leaves him a trembling, aching mess where the wetness of her own arousal has spilled down to his thighs.

“I want you to pray,” she suggests, sweetly peppering his face in the most chaste of kisses. “Pray you get to finish in me.”

She wants to ruin him, wants drag him down to Hell with her. There are no protests when she bends over to present herself to him; the priest does as she asks in a whisper, pleads for her and when it’s done, his reward in in the form of two words “good boy” and her tight, pulsing heat wrapped around him again.

He doesn’t last long, doesn’t even try to anymore for fear she may decide to leave him high and dry entirely. He ruts into her with a grip on the back of her neck and the plushness of her hip, leans his weight entirely over her as the sounds of impact fill the hollow church. God isn’t watching, but the little succubus below him is so appeased and her favor is all he can care for anymore.

When he comes, he fucks her through it, doesn’t even attempt to slow down as he whines into her ear about how good she feels, how they could get married, have this forever and he will show her the light. Fuck, he would leave the church behind entirely for her if she would just let him feel this every night. His thrusts only slow when he grows soft, when he can’t even keep himself inside of her cunt, slippery with his own seed.

She lies back, spreads her legs and lets him see what he’s done, fingers herself and presses his own come to his lips. She tells him he’s fed her better than anyone else, tells him to have a taste too and he does. He laps at her fingers as desperately as he had her pussy, until she pulls away, wipes his saliva onto her thigh and asks him if he’s ready to sleep.

The bed feels so much warmer with another person present, safer somehow even if he’s never felt himself in any danger… not here. He falls asleep in her embrace, the most blissful sleep he’s ever had. It’s only a shame that he had… because when he wakes in the morning the woman is gone. He misses his prayers searching for her, for even a trace of what occurred between them. There’s no stain on the floor or clothing in the confessional… not even a note to suggest she would return.

He goes back to his sad masturbation sessions, doesn’t even repent for the way he wanders into the confessional after service to fuck his fist and imagine her voice calling to him from the other side. He pictures her body beneath him, thinks of her praise and the way she damned him when he shoots spurts of wasted come against the boards. There’s no love, no woman at his side when he returns to his bed at night, but he has his imagination for that too.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #do not look at me

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taeghi · 7 months

Text

tainted love || (m)

demon!heeseung x reader | SMUT, angst, pwp

➤ summary : heeseung was just trying to do his job, there’s no way a demon could fall in love with a human. it was forbidden. but you summoning him accidentally or not, started the toxic relationship between you two.

➤ includes : choking, oral, fingering, dirty talk, biting, slapping, spiting, toxic-ness lol

➤ word count : 16.5k

trigger warning : mentions of death

taglist : @yunjardi @beomgyusonlywife @sparklingsjy @sunoosult @deobitifull @nellwoo @poppin46 @snowsmyt @fluerz @miumiuoi @seuomo @hoyeonheeseung @defxciii @seungjiseyo @eunii11 @cha0thicpisces @iamliacamila @luciathcv @skzenhalove @laffatae @mimikittysblog @luvyouchuu @alienqbrain @ramenoil @beomibeom @ajayke-reads @seokseokjinkim @heeswhoree @biggestenhastan @lilmxchis @jungwonieee @4yjwonnn @kimsunoo2003 @lprww @heeverseblog @capri-cuntz @lilriswife4life @seuomo @rizzhee @mimikittysblog @

you were excited when you first moved into your new home. it would be the first time you lived alone in your entire life. you loved the house you bought. it was old, ancestral and just perfect for you, right on the edge of town where it was the perfect mix of loud and quiet.

once you were all moved in, you were excited for your best friend, mary, to come over and see it. you had spent all day decorating and organizing, so the house felt like ‘home’ to you. the house had felt so welcoming to you, so you wanted it to feel welcoming to mary as well.

just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the new neighbourhood. mary arrived at your doorstep, excitement radiating from her whole body.

you greeted mary with a broad smile, happy to have your best friend over for the first time, “mary! i’m so glad you’re here!” mary’s hair was as long as ever as it stopped right above her hips. The few beauty moles she had around her eyes and cheekbones gleamed out at you.

mary’s eyes crinkled as she smiled hard at you, “me too, y/n! let me see this house you bought then!”

you beckoned your friend into your house, wanting her to follow you as you led the way through the new halls adorned with antique furniture and delicate wallpaper that was left behind for decades. you ascended the sweeping staircase, your footsteps bouncing off of the walls.

“girl, this house is like a time capsule!” mary remarked from behind you, her voice and eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. “where’d you even find it?”

you shrugged as you showed room by room, “just online. it was cheap– i guess because it’s so old.”

“how old?”

“really old.” you both laughed, “so old that i can’t get a door to budge open.” you glanced down to the last door at the end of the long hallway.

“really?” mary’s head tilted.

“yeah, the one on the very end there, with the faded floral patterns.” mary walked past you to the door and stopped in front of it. “i’ve tried for a few days now, even one of the movers couldn’t get it to budge. he said something about the hinges being rusted down.”

“let me try,” mary declared, her delicate hand reached out to the ornate brass doorknob you had tried to turn for hours.

as she turned the doorknob, the door swung open easily. too easily.

“hey, what?” you exclaimed, moving closer to see it better for yourself, “how did you do that?”

mary shrugged with a concerned look on her face, “i don’t know. i just opened it.”

“what the hell, i’ve been trying for days, mary!”

mary chuckled, “well, let’s see what’s up there then.” she pointed inside the newly opened door which reveals a narrow flight of stairs leading to an attic. “an attic filled with mysteries.” mary said in a fake scary voice.

mary let you go in first, climbing up the creaky, dusty steps, anticipation building with every reak and moan from the old house. the air grew thick with dust, swirling around them like ethereal spirits. both of your eyes widened at the sight before you at the top of the stairs. the space was illuminated by a single beam of light filtering through a small window. it cast long shadows on the faded wallpaper and illuminated the forgotten items from the previous owners.

“there is so much shit up here,” mary said beside you; both of you were standing still and taking in the scattered items spread about. she stepped around you, brushing off the layer of dust from an old trunk. she ran her fingers over the tarnished lock, contemplating what lay inside, “shall we see what’s in box number one?”

your eyes sparkled with anticipation, “absolutely.”

with a click, mary opened the trunk, revealing a trove of memories. it was full of sepia-toned photographs, delicate lace gloves and a journal with yellowed pages.

“look at this photograph,” mary showed you, holding up an image of a young couple embracing, looking madly in love. you peered over her shoulder, a wistful smile spreading across your lips as you looked at the pair.

mary continued to skim through the first box as you stood straight again. your eyes scanned your new attic, and you felt your heart skip when you noticed a dusty, wooden box tucked away in the corner. you walked towards it, your hands starting to tremble for no reason.

you could hear mary shifting with excitement as she found something new in her box, but you were too interested in the box in the corner in front of you. you knelt on the floor, your hands traced the chest, feeling some magnetic pull to it strangely.

you carefully opened the box, revealing an ancient wooden board intricately carved with symbols and letters. you realized that it was a ouijia board. its surface adorned with faded letters and a small wooden planchette.

mary gasped behind you, her eyes widening with awe and caution, “y/n, isn’t that a ouija board?”

you nodded, your voice filled with wonder and uncertainty, “yeah, i think so. i wonder why it’s been left up here, ya know, because they’re like a window to the other realm, right?”

the two of you exchanged a nervous glance before mary spoke again, her voice barely audible, “what do you say, y/n? should we use it? break in your new house?”

you hesitated, your mind starting to understand the fear that this board could evoke, “i don’t know, mary. it’s risky. what if we unleash something?”

mary placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “we’ll be careful. we won’t stay for long. we’ll just ask a few harmless questions, and if things get weird, we’ll stop, okay?”

you sighed but slowly nod, “alright, we can try it. who knows, it might not even work.”

“probably not, but it’ll be fun to try.”

you and mary gathered around your kitchen table, the ouija board spread out before you. soft candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

you hesitated, your two fingers trembling as they hovered above the planchette, “are you sure about this mary? i have a bad feeling.”

mary’s voice was pure excitement, “we’ll be fine y/n, just a couple of questions, ok?”

they placed their fingers lightly on the planchette, their anticipation growing with each passing moment. the room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting their next move.

“is there anyone here with us?” mary asked, her voice confident, waiting for a response from the other side. but as minuted passed by, the ouija board remained still, its surface unyielding to their inquiries.

“maybe it’s not going to work, mary.” you said with a tinge of disappointment.

mary sighed, defeated and regretful, “i guess you’re right. i shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up too high.”

just as you two were about to lift your hands from the planchette, a sudden chill filled the air, causing both of you to shiver. you exchanged a puzzled look with mary as your attention was drawn back to the ouija board. slowly but surely, the planchette began to move, gliding across the board’s surface with an eerie certainty.

your eyes widened, your heart pounding in your chest, “uh mary, it’s moving.”

“i know,” mary replied in disbelief as the planchette stopped over “YES”. “oh my god.”

“oh my god,” you repeated, “that wasn’t you?”

“no! was it you?”

you shook your head, “definitely not.” with your body scared to the bone, mary let out a laugh, “what’s so funny?”

“nothing! nothing.” mary waved her free hand, “just, this is going to be so fun.”

you sighed, “just, be careful, alright? i don’t need my new house to be haunted or something.”

mary agreed and then asked again in her confident voice, “who are we speaking to?”

again, your eyes widened in disbelief as the planchette spelled out a name, letter by letter.

H– E– E– S– E– U– N– G.

“heeseung?” mary repeated, her voice filled with confusion, “who’s heeseung?”

your brows furrowed, trying to think if you know anyone by that name, “i don’t know mary, i’ve never heard that name before. it could just be a random spirit trying to communicate with us.”

mary shrugged and continued, “what do you want, heeseung?”

the planchette moves then, their fingers still atop as it spelled out the next word.

H– E– L– P.

you exchanged concerned glances with your friend across the table. the atmosphere in the kitchen growing heavy and gold with the unexplained presence.

“h-how can we help you?” mary asked the board.

I– N– C– U– B– U– S.

“what the hell’s does incubus mean?” you asked your friend.

“isn’t that like, a sex demon?” mary said, stifling a laugh.

“a sex demon?” you repeated, tilting your head in confusion.

“yeah, seems like someone’s horny in the afterlife.” mary jokes, making you bite your lip to stifle your own laugh.

before either of you could speak again again, the planchette started moving, dragging your fingers along with it.

N– A– M– E.

“name?” mary said out loud, “say your name.”

“what, why me?”

“because it’s your house, and we found this thing upstairs.”

you sighed before stating, “y/n.”

you expected the planchette to move again so the spirit could reply, but instead the small kitchen window above the sink swung open, letting the wind from outside enter roughly. the cold gust of wind blows out all the candles, plunging your kitchen into darkness besides the lone street lamp outside. a low guttural growl resonated through the air, sending shivers down your spines.

“jesus!” you jumped up, your hands leaving the board as you get up and close the window that was hitting the wall now. mary followed you, but turns on the kitchen light instead. “what was that?”

“i don’t know, wind.” mary said with a sarcastic tone, “it’s fine.”

“what? you weren’t scared by that?” you asked your friend curiously.

mary shrugged again, “i mean, you felt how rough the wind was, and this house is old. it makes sense that the window would open like that.”

you stared at your friend in disbelief, your hand stayed on your chest as you tried to slow your breathing. mary started grabbing her belongings, slipping her bag over her shoulder, oh so chalantly as you felt petrified from the events that occurred only a minute ago.

“so are you taking that thing home?” you asked mary, referring to the board that sits still on the table.

“what, no?” mary replied with a crinkle of her nose.

“but why not? you’re the one who likes these kinds of things.”

“well yeah, but we found it here. and god knows how long it’s been here, i wouldn’t want to upset it.”

“upset what?” your eyes widened in fear.

mary only laughed at your expression as she came over to you, her hands rubbing your shoulders as you face each other. “y/n, calm down, nothing even happened! we spoke to a spirit for five seconds and then the wind blew open the window. just put the board back in the attic and go to bed.”

you sighed at your friend, dreading to go back up into the attic once she’s gone.

“i’ll see you later, alright?” mary said as she stands on your porch with a smile, “nothing’s gonna happen so just enjoy your new house.”

you told your friend to have a goodnight before going around and making sure every door and windowwaslocked for the night, keeping all the lights on as you do so. when the time comes for you to put the board in the attic, you closed your eyes and placed it on the closest box to the stairs before turning and bolting down the stairs, slamming the floral door shut behind you. you wished the door would have never opened in the first place as you slide into bed, scared for the first time in your new house.

you were only able to sleep for a few hours before you were awoken suddenly. your body jolted awake as you sat up in your bed. your chest heaved heavily as you looked around your bedroom, but ultimately saw nothing.

you brushed a hand through your wild hair, mentally laughing at how scared you truly were. when you stretch out, ready for bed again you realized how damp your panties were and you wondered if you were having a wet dream of some sort that woke you up, but couldn’t seem to remember anything.

when you started to lay down again, figuring that it must be around 3am and you needed to go to sleep, you heard a creak from the other side of your room. you instinctively turned your body to face the corner, but again, nothings there. you told yourself that it’s just the old house, but for some reason you couldn’t get rid of the feeling that it’s something more.

one more time, you started to move your pillows so you could go back to sleep, but you heard a creak again from the same spot in the dark corner of your room. your eyes widened at the spot, suspecting to see something or someone other than the wall and darkness, and were about to go mad when you see nothing again. you smiled to yourself. thinking about how crazy you must truly look if anyone was here with you.

“looking for me?” a man’s voice spoke from the otherside of you. you could barely see the person before you were screaming, crawling backwards to the other side of your bed to get away from the voice. “hey, hey, it’s okay, shh.”

“no! who are you!” you cried out, your body shaking with fear.

“c’mon, y/n.” the man tsked at you, “you know who i am.”

“no! i don’t! please! just leave me alone! please!” you started crying, tears running down your face in an instant from pure fear, not knowing what this man was going to do with you.

“y/n, say my name.” his voice was stern, but playful as he speaks to you.

“i don’t know you’re name! and i don’t know how you know me! please! please! don’t hurt me!”

the man sighed, “fine.” he lifted his pale hand and snapped his fingers. instantly the tears brimming your eyes were gone, but your cheeks were still wet from the previous ones. your breaths calm and your body stopped shaking. your mind went clear, even though the deep, inner voice of yours was still screaming for help. “i didn’t want to have to do that, but you need to listen to me and calm down.”

your eyes snapped to the man, wanting to scream but can’t from the peacefulness taking over your body. you could actually examine the man now. he was tall and lean, he exudes an otherworldly charm that seemed to fascinate and terrify you. his hair was jet-black and falls over his eyes, yet frames his face that was carved in the moonlight that enters your bedroom.

your heart was racing, but was slowing down the more deep breaths you take. his eyes were dark brown as they stare back at you.

“who are you?” you voice was steady when you speak, which surprised yourself. “what did you do to me?”

his voice was smooth and melodic when he spoke again, “you know who i am.”

“i don’t.”

“you do,” the man sat on your bed, hands grabbing your shoulders so you look right at him, “think y/n. who am i?”

you were about to shake your head no, but suddenly there were flashes in your head. the man sitting in front of you, laying in your bed, smirking up at you as you hover a top of him. a flash of him laying shirtless and having abs that make you want to marvel at him for hours. and the final flash of him throwing his head back, letting out a moan of your name.

“heeseung.” you stated, your eyes widening in realization and fear, but your body refused to act the way you’re feeling deep down, like you’re stuck.

the man, heeseung, smiled slyly as you say his name, “there you go, good girl.”

“how- what?” you questioned, wondering how you knew this man in front of you was heeseung, the spirit you contacted earlier through the board and how did you get those, those memories of him.

his smirk grew deeper on his face, “i gave you a nice dream before i made you wake up, i thought you’d like it.”

you think more about the dream he must’ve given you, and pushed away the thought that crosses your mind of how you wish the dream would have lasted longer. there’s a whole demon sitting in front of you, and you can’t seem to react the way you want to, just placed frozen on your bed.

“what do you want, heeseung?” you asked him, your voice almost monotone, but really wanting to scream.

a tantalizing smile curled onto his heeseung’s lips before he speaks, “you.”

the voice in the back of your head screamed louder, wishing to get away from him, but yet you stay still, “why me?”

heeseung grabbed your hand in his, his skin cold against your own. you felt disgusted as he touches you, but lean your hand into his. “because you summoned me and set me free. and now, i need to fulfill my duties.”

you wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. you were trapped still on your bed with a demon holding your hand. and all you could do was sit there, expressionless. “what- what did you do to me?”

heeseung retracted his hand, “i’m sorry, i had to so you would listen, i can make it stop.”

“please.” your begging word came out monotone.

“i will. but first you need to understand how you’ve summoned me to fulfill my duty as a worker of the underworld. can you listen?”

you nodded slowly, wanting to understand more about this demon and how the hell he’s ended up beside you.

“i’m an incubus. and the main part of my duty is to pleasure women, sexually. and i can do that for you, y/n. i can sense that you’ve never properly been pleasured,” heeseung’s hand pushed your hair behind your ear and you struggled to not shiver at the contact, “i can make you feel good.”

you gulped as you dare to look heeseung in the eyes. you noticed the way his dark eyes glint in the moonlight and how his jawwasheld tonight as he smirked at you. you hated yourself for thinking how attractive he would be if he was a human. “how would you know?”

heeseung almost let out a laugh at how naive you are, but he found it charming at the same time, “because i am a demon y/n. i’m forever trapped between realms for my actions i did as a human. and for that, i’m forever yearning for a taste of the forbidden. and you, y/n, have summoned me and are now my object of fascination. i can make you feel good, i know you want me to.”

“no, i don’t.” you speak, trying to defend yourself from the demon.

heeseung tsked, “as an incubus i can appear as anyone that the woman so desires. i’ve appeared as many celebrities, ex-boyfriends, random strangers the woman has seen on the street. but for you, you desire me.”

you avoided heeseung’s stare now, nervousness wanting to spread all over your body as he calls you out. you’re sure that if you weren’t under this trance of his your breathing would be rapid and you’d be fidgeting.

you felt heeseung’s hand slither to your jaw, turning to your face gently to look at him, “just say the word y/n, and you can have me.” his melodic voice was in a whisper as he was mere inches away from your face, “just tell me you want me.”

you could feel your heart pounding in your chest even though the rest of you remained in an unwelcome calm. a magnetic pull between you and heeseung has somehow grown too strong to resist in the few minutes he has sat in front of you.

with trembling lips, you looked into heeseung’ captivating eyes, swirling with a seductive and darkness glaze, and a surge of boldness coursed through your veins as you give voice to your deepest desire.

“i want you.”

heeseung’s enigmatic smirk widened, a flicker of satisfaction danced on his face. it was as if your confession had unlocked a doorway to a realm where pleasure and danger intertwined.

he leaned closer, his breath caressing your lips before they were pushed onto yours. heeseung’s fingers snap in your ear, and suddenly you’re overcome with so many, too many emotions all at once : fear, lust, nervousness, curiosity.

in your dimly lit room, with your lips pressed together with a demon’s you know you should’ve pulled away and ran, but there was a dark lust inside of you. curious to see how heeseung could have pulled you in so quick with his words. a surge of electricity coursed through your body, feeling a connection with heeseung deepening. the kiss ignited a fire within you, a flame that seemed to consume all over her overbearing emotions.

heeseung’s lips were soft, yet demanding, drawing you further into a world where pleasure and danger danced perfectly together. it seemed like both of your desires intertwined, blurring the line between terror and passion.

time seemed to stand still as you deepened his kiss. your mouths moving in perfect synchrony as if you’ve kissed one million times before.

as heeseung pulled away, your eyes locked, your heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you. heeseung’s hands came up and roughly pushed you down against your bed, your head landing in your pillow. heeseung’s head delved down, sucking and biting immediately onto the sweet spot on your neck. you gasped, arching your back into his chest, wondering how he found the perfect spot so quick.

you could feel heeseung smirk against your skin, “i know all your desires y/n, everything that makes you feel good.” he lifts his head to look into your eyes, “everything that you’ve been deprived of, never having the chance to be perfectly pleasured by someone else.”

you gulped harshly because it’s true. every time you’ve had sex it’s always been disappointing and you’ve never been fully satisfied. your last boyfriends would take charge during sex, and would never give you the room to express what makes you feel good. you’ve tried random hookups with guys at bars or ones you’ve meet on tinder, but they never know how to please you and only take care of themselves.

“i told you,” heeseung pressed a kiss into your cheek, “i’ll make you feel good.” he pressed a kiss into the other, “it’s what you deserve.”

you nodded gently at heeseung’s statement, allowing yourself to fully trust a demon with your body, wanting to taste the pleasure that you do deserve and should have felt before. and for some reason, you didn’t feel any hesitation giving your body to him.

heeseung’s hands started to grope your body, trailing down your sides and massaging your thighs at the end. he grabbed your thighs, pulling them so they bend at your knees and wrap around his waist. his lips were meshing against yours roughly, the way that you’ve always wanted to be kissed. your ex boyfriends were always so gently and sweet, which you could appreciate, but sometimes you just wanted to be taken roughly.

heeseung’s hands pulled up your shirt, letting his flood at your neck as he exposes your breasts to his sight. his hips were grinding into yours as his hands groped your breasts. you could already feel how hard he was in his black pants as he grinded his hips into your core. you could feel your wet panties get wetter with the friction.

heeseung finally pulled off your shirt, taking a break from your lips. “fuck, such perfect tits.” heeseung groaned before he’s putting his lips over your erect nipple. he switched between your breasts, his tongue circulating the nipple in quick motions. you moaned at the cold air brushing against your skin once he pulled it off.

heeseung suddenly pulled your legs straight before pulling down your sleeping shorts so you were left in only your panties. he was then spreading your legs wide as he kneels down between your legs.

“wha-?” your voice was cut off as he pressed his mouth to your wet mound. a moan leaves your lips instantly, never having a man go down on you before.

“fuck, baby, so sensitive already?” heeseung mumbled as he pushes your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to his eyes.

you could only moan again in response as he delves down again, his tongue against your bare pussy now. heeseung moaned as he tastes you, his eyes closing for a brief second to take in your taste. your jaw droppedas you watch him in between your legs, his tongue slipping in and out of his mouth and around your lips.

he made sure to reach every part of your pussy, letting his saliva mix with your own wetness that he’s made.

“that’s so fucking good.” you told him, not missing the smirk on his face when he heard your words.

heeseung then slipped a finger inside of you, instantly finding your g spot. you cried out his name, wanting to tell him to not stop, but you could tell he didn’t plan on it. his free hand finds your breast, taking the nipple in between his fingers.

you felt overwhelmed by him in the best way. his tongue and fingers reaching every pleasure point of your body. you don’t think anyone has ever been able to find everything that makes you feel good before, even your ex boyfriend that you dated for years.

heeseung groaned into your core, losing himself in your taste and walls as his two fingers massage your g spot in circles, “you love the way i play with your pussy, y/n?” his voice was deep when he speaks to you, and it makes you throw your head back into your pillows.

suddenly all of the pleasure heeseung’s been giving you stopped, and before you could complain, a sharp slap hits your wet mound, the wet sound echos into your bedroom walls. “heeseung!”

“i asked you, question.” heeseung dark eyes meet yours through your legs, “answer me or i stop.”

your chest was heaving from the pleasure and shock, “y-yes, i love it.”

heeseung smirked at your answer, “good girl.” before he delved back into your pussy, his fingers fucked into you at ease as his tongue switched between sucking and circling your clit. your body relaxed into the pleasure again, grabbing onto his hand that rests by your chest.

without thinking you pulled his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them instead of letting out the moans you know you can’t control. your actions make heeseung groan against your pussy, the vibration making you suck his fingers harder. your body felt like fire as your tongue circles his fingers like his tongue circles your clit.

your body started to move against your bed, unable to stay still from the pleasure. his fingers dropped from your mouth and landed on your thighs to keep them open. his tongue started to delve deeper into your pussy as his fingers pick up their pace. heeseung keeps groaning against you, loving the way you started to grind back onto his mouth.

you could tell heeseung loved having his tongue and fingers in you, and that only adds to the pleasure you were feeling. loving the fact that a man (whether he’s a demon or not) actually wanted to pleasure you, something you’ve never experienced with your past, selfish partners.

your back arched suddenly off of your bed, the pleasure becoming too much for you to hold back, “fuck, heeseung!” you cried out his name, pushing your pussy farther into his face.

“you gonna cum, angel?” heeseung’s lips mumbled against your clit, his fingers starting to pound into you, rubbing your g spot every time.

“y-yes! please don’t stop! please!” your begging this time was so different from how you were begging him just minutes ago.

“cum for me, y/n. cum all over my fucking face.” heeseung encouraged you, and it was all the took for you to come undone with just a few minutes of him pleasuring you. the feeling was new to you as you had never come undone from someone’s tongue and you wished your high could last longer. a final, high pitch moan left your mouth before you were pushing heeseung away from the sensitivity.

heeseung grunted but pulled away, licking his lips to vanish your juices off of his lips, “fuck, you taste good.” heeseung leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your lower stomach that was heaving with your chest, trying to catch your breath from the orgasm he just gave you.

before you could speak again, heeseung’s hands were sliding under your body and flipping you around onto your hand and knees. your body still felt like mush from your orgasm so he could easily handle you.

you heard heeseung start to unzip his pants, pulling them to reveal his cock. when you turn, wanting to catch sight of it, you gasped. his cock was long and hard. there were veins trailing up the sides that reached the red tip, oozing with precum. his girth will definitely stretch you and you wondered for a second if it’ll even fit inside of you. heeseung caught a glimpse of your concerned face, pressed a hand onto your lower back so your chest and face are against the pillows.

“don’t worry, angel, i’ll be gentle at first.” heeseung speaks to you, massaging your ass cheeks with his hands, trying to calm you in any way that he knows.

heeseung spits down onto your pussy, making you squeak as you felt his spit trickle down your pussy. he spits in his hand and smeared it over his cock, lubing up everything as both of you know he’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever and probably will ever take.

heeseung gave your ass one more smack before he’s pushing his cock into your dripping pussy. your mouth dropped open as you pressed your face into your pillows, feeling your walls stretch so well around him. you were thankful for the orgasm he gave you before, because you’re sure it would’ve hurt more if you weren’t so wet and stretched from his fingers.

once he’s fully inside he stopped, letting you take deep breaths into your pillow as you adjust to his size, “do i fill you up good, y/n?” heeseung asked, massaging the red hand print he’s left on your ass.

“mhm,” you mumbled to him in your pillow, “so good.”

heeseung started to fuck into you then, holding onto your waist as he thrusts from behind. you could feel his hips hit your ass every time his cock was deeply delved into your pussy. you swear you could feel him in your stomach.

“fuck, it’s so big.” you moaned out, your hands clutching your sheets as his cock stretches you out, feeling every inch of your walls, even the parts that have never been touched before.

heeseung aimed for your g spot everytime, the rough patch rubbing against his cock so easily. you wondered how no one has been able to find it before since heeseung has seemed to find it so instinctively.

heeseung’s hands were molding into your ass, grabbing and massaging as he uses it to fuck into you. his own mouth was dropped open as he fucks you, leaning down to kiss your back gently, in complete contrast to how rough he’s fucking your pussy. you felt like you were being ripped open, but you could care less from how good it felt.

heeseung reached around you, wrapping his large hands around your breasts, pulling and tweaking your nipples. you manage to sit up on your knees, pressing your back into his chest as you turned your head to look at him. his eyes that were once brown were now full on black. you could see your own fucked out reflection in them before you were grabbing his head from behind and pulling his lips onto yours. they mesh so well together and you know it should scare you, but it only leaves you wanting more and more.

his cock was lodged so deep inside of you as he fucked up into you at the new angle. your ass was jiggling each time he slams his cock back into you. your tongues were exploring each other’s mouth, tasting each other as his hands keep roaming your body.

at once, you were being pulled away from his lips as he pushed you back down onto the bed. your face in the pillow and your ass up, pussy still gripping onto his cock. he was grabbing your hands from the sheets and pulling them behind your back, locking them in place and using them as a new holder to fuck into you.

heeseung started pulling his cock all the way out of you, before ramming it back in all the way. you could feel his cock hitting your cervix as you cried out his name. “oh fuck, heeseung!”

“yeah, that feel good?” heeseung said, his voice relatively calm, “who’s pussy is this then?”

“yours! fuck, all yours!” you replied instantly, not even thinking about anything else, drunk on the pleasure.

heeseung kept fucking into you as he reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling it off his head so now he’s completely bare behind you. you turned and graveled at his body. it was pale, and the moonlight seemed to make it glow. you could see sweat starting to form around his faint abs that blended in with his milky skin. his broad shoulders slink into his small waist perfectly. everything about heeseung seemed to be beautiful, and that’s so, so dangerous.

heeseung’s suddenly pulled out of you, making you whine. he chuckled darkly as you, before he flipped you back over onto your back. instinctively you spread your legs for him, just wanting him to be back inside of you. heeseung grabbed one of your legs, putting it up on his shoulder while the other leg wraps around his waist.

he slipped his cock back into you and you both groaned at the new angle. heeseung leaned down and pressed a deep kiss onto your lips briefly.

“open your mouth, let me see your tongue,” he stated and you do as you were told.

heeseung spits into your mouth, making you moan as you swallow. you wondered for a second how he knew that you were into that, but then remember that he was not just a normal man on top of you, he was an incubus, and his duty was to know every single one of your desires. the thought gets pushed away by the pleasure before you could think more of it.

“yeah, you like that? you like being my bitch?” heeseung asked you, his black eyes, almost covered by his eyelids that were closing from his own pleasure.

“i love it! i love it, please.” you replied truthfully. heeseung smiled devilishly at your obedience.

heeseung stopped pounding into you, and you watched him reach over to your nightstand, your embarrassment crawled up into you as you sat up, “wait!” you speak, but it’s too late, heeseung had already pulled out your vibrator, and the devilish grin only grew on his face.

“what?” he tilted your head as he saw the pink on your cheeks, “you don’t think i know how often you use this to pleasure yourself?”

“i- i,” you tried to speak but were too embarrassed and watched him examine the vibrator.

“why can’t we let it join our fun?”

you gulped, new ideas and images of heeseung filling your mind at his suggestion, “we, we can.”

heeseung smirked at you, and you only fall deeper into him as he turned on the vibrator. the noise filling your room as he pressed it into your clit.

“fuck!” you cried out instantly, your pussy was still sensitive from the orgasm before.

it only took a second more before heeseung was shoving his cock back into you, fucking into you so fucking deep as he pressed the vibrator harder and harder against your clit. your hands flied up by your head, pulling at your pillow as you take the pleasure that heeseung was giving you.

only curses leave your mouth as your body began to rave on the pleasure. heeseung’s free hand reached down to your neck, successfully choking you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head uncontrollably.

heeseung was biting, licking and kissing your leg that was hooked onto his shoulder, his eyes watching the pleasure take over you. you had never felt so exposed before, but you wouldn’t want anything else in that exact moment. you love the thought of heeseung just wanting to see you come undone on his cock. like it’s the only thing he’d ever want in this world.

“yes, that’s a good girl, take my fucking cock.” heeseung grunted out to you, his grip on your neck not releasing.

he kept pounding into your, your body began to twitch again, not being able to stay still from all the pleasure and adrenaline running through your body.

heeseung pressed the vibrator into your clit harder, stopping his thrusts with his cock deep inside of you as he bended over and kissed you. his tongue swirling around your mouth. you can’t kiss him back properly as moans just keep falling out of your mouth. so, he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth.

“oh my god,” you let out, watching the handsome man lick and suck around your thumb as he made deep eye contact with you, his cock seeming to hit every inch of your pussy, the veins dragging so perfectly against your wet walls.

“no one’s ever made you feel so good before, right angel?” heeseung asked you, a smirk on his face that dropped quickly when you don’t, when you can’t answer. his hand left your waist and slapped you across your face, “answer me.”

“no! never! only you!” you replied, liking the way the sting felt on your face. the pain just mixed with the pleasure.

heeseung’s hand wrapped around your neck again, squeezing tight as you took his cock. suddenly you can’t take the pleasure anymore, “cum, gonna cum.” you told him.

he released your neck and slapped your face again, slapping both of your cheeks as you started to grind down on his cock as his hips meet your own. the vibrator makes wet squelching noises as it pressed between your pussy lips and clit.

“cum for me, angel, cum all over my cock,” heeseung nodded at you, “wanna feel how tight you get around me when you cum.”

his words set you off again, and your body convulsed as you felt the coil in your stomach snap. all the pleasure taking over your body as you tensed and untensed your limbs, feeling the high make your body and mind melt away. you could do nothing as heeseung continued to pound into you, letting you ride out your high with his cock constantly hitting your g spot.

“that’s it, that’s my good girl.” heeseung groaned out, your tight, wet walls affecting him just as much as he’s affecting you. there was a sense of pride in you as you come down from your high as you watched heeseung struggle to keep his own composure.

he turned off the vibrator and threw it to the side of the bed, almost completely forgotten as he grabbed your legs and pushed them down onto your chest. heeseung was then hovering over top of you, his cock still plunged deep inside.

“fuck,” you let out, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, “you fuck me so well.”

“i know, angel, i told-, told you I would.” heeseung’s voice was getting breathy as he was reaching closer to his high, “want you to cum one more time for me, y/n, please.” his begging voice and eye contact made anything feel possible to you.

heeseung’s fingers slipped down to your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles into it as his pace of his thrusts didn’t slow down.

it only took a few more thrusts before you were hitting your third and final orgasm of the night, the most you had came before. your body felt like it was on a sensitive overdrive as heeseung fucked you through your high. your jaw dropped in a silent scream as your walls tightened around heeseung’s cock for the last time. you could hear heeseung’s groans as he was getting closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“please cum, heeseung, please. wanna see you cum for me,” you begged him, eyes pleading as he held onto your thighs tighter.

“fuck, fuck,” heeseung let out before he ripped his cock out of you. his hand started jerking his hard cock, slippery with your cum and juices. his eyes switched between your swollen pussy and your fucked out face. “y/n, yes!”

you could feel heeseung’s warm cum land on your lower stomach, his grunts mixed with the mentions of your name. you had never thought your name sounded pretty before, but it slipping off of his lips made it seem ethereal.

both of your chests were breathing heavily as heeseung leaned down, meshing his lips onto yours in a messy, but almost passionate way. the passion delved in the kiss stirs something in you, scaring you when you remembered that he’s a demon you’ve accidentally summoned.

you shoot your eyes open at the thought, sitting up in your bed, reality consuming you that you’ve just had sex with a demon.

but when you looked around your room, feeling your lips still tingle from the kiss that was happening just a second ago, you find yourself alone. no one in your room except for you and the moonlight.

then, an almost instantaneous need for sleep started to consume you, and even when you tried to fight it just mere seconds before you pass out, head falling back on the pillow, you fail. your body lays on your bed in a peaceful, innocent manner, so much different than how it was interacting minutes before.

when you awake again, it’s morning, the moonlight filling your room has changed into midday sunlight. your head felt like it was pounding when you sat up, placing your hand over it for some comfort. you felt confused when you tried to piece together what’s going on.

suddenly, painful quick images flash in your brain. images of heeseung, his mocha eyes turning black, his cold lips against yours, his hands roaming over your body.

you rip off your blanket that has been covering you. you were wearing your pajamas and it makes you question yourself on how you went to bed. you have no memory of getting dressed or putting the blanket over top of you. or even how you wiped up heeseung’s cum off of your stomach.

you briskly get out of bed, making your way across the hall to the bathroom. you turned on the cold water, needing some sort of relief from this awakening. you lean against the counter with your hands on your cold, wet face, soaking in the water as you try to recall more memories from the night before. trying to distinguish if it was all a nightmare or real life.

you walk yourself through everything you could remember. it’s too detailed to just be a nightmare, but you don’t remember anything after heeseung pressed a final kiss to your lips. his lips, they were perfect, they knew everything that could make you feel good.

then, the memory comes back. you stand up straight, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror as you pull your hair back, desperate to see your neck.

and there it is, a bright, purple hickey right below your ear.

your breath started to pick up pace as your fingers run over the bruise. fear and astonishment filling your body as you realize that everything you think happened last night, did in fact happen.

you had sex with a demon.

and you liked it.

there was no doubt in your mind that it wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had. that you wouldn’t kill to have it again, to see heeseung one more time. feel his lips trail over your body, utilizing every part of his and your body to make you feel good.

and that thought terrified you.

there was no way you were craving sex with a demon, wishing that you could see him again. you sounded crazy.

so you told yourself that it was all a trick, and that after this exact moment you would never think of the demon with the cherry lips and soft black hair again. it was over and done with as what happened was part of his ‘duties’ or whatever. it meant nothing and never will, heeseung the incubus was out of your life for good.

it didn’t take long for heeseung to start corrupting your dreams, blurring the line of what a dream and a nightmare is. in the depths of the night, your slumber was disturbed by images.

always finding yourself in a desolate dreamscape that you wander through, listening to whispers of your name in the air. the voices draw you towards a figure standing in the shadows. the closer you get, the more you could realize that it was heeseung, his presence both captivating and terrifying.

you could feel fear clenching your heart, your instincts wanting you to flee. yet, a part of you secretly relishes these dreams, these encounters with the enigmatic demon who holds a power over you whether he knows or not.

in the nightmare, heeseung steps forward, his eyes gleaming with his charm. “angel,” he murmured, his voice a seductive melody that you remember it has. “you’re mine, right?”

conflicting emotions surge within you. you know you should be frightened by him, to resist his demonic presence. but a part of you craved his attention, relish in the intrigue and danger that pulsed through your veins.

as he moves closer in the nightmare, reaching out and placing his cold hands on your bare arms, it sends electric currents surging through your body. making you feel a sort of high heeseung has only ever been able to give you.

despite the initial fear of your nightmares, your secret longing intensified the more you dreamt of him. it was a twisted dance between fear and desire. you yearned for the darkness that consumed your dreams, drawn to heeseung like a moth to a flame.

you started seeing flashes of what could only be heeseung during the day when you were awake. seeing him in the reflection of the window when you were washing dishes, only to turn around and to find no one.

when you went out to a cafe with mary, you swore you saw heeseung standing across the street through the cafe’s window, but he was gone when you turned your head completely to look at him.

finally, feeling insane from seeing him in your dreams and while you were awake, you had enough. you needed to talk to heeseung. you needed to see him for more than a second again.

knowing the only way you reached him before was thrown on a dusty box in the attack, you started to march your way to the attic, just wanting peace from this hellish reality you’ve been living in for weeks.

as soon as your hand was about to turn the copper door knob on the faded floral door, you heard his voice behind you. “and what do you think you’re doing?”

you squeak and turned around, facing the demon you were looking for, “i wanted to talk to you, again.”

heeseung scoffed from his position of leaning on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, “right, but you and a ouija board don’t go so good together- especially since you summoned me last time,” heeseung started to walk closer to you, “who knows who you could’ve summoned this time.”

you gulped as you stared up at the demon who had been in your dreams for the past month, “well, i didn’t know how else to contact you! you- you keep showing up in my dreams and i know, i’ve seen you.”

“y/n,” heeseung glanced into your eyes, and you saw his hand start to move by his side but ultimately stopped and dropped back, “you can’t contact me again, that’s part of the whole incubus thing. we should never speak again.”

“w-what? but what about my dreams and i saw y-!” heeseung’s finger pressed against your lips, stopping you with a quick “shh!”.

“those should stay between us, i shouldn’t be doing those things. i could get in serious trouble.”

heeseung’s eyes were serious as you look into them, trying to get every detail to truly remember them in their mocha form. his finger dropped from your lips and hesitantly puts his hand back to his side, like he wanted to touch you but he can’t.

“then why were you doing those things?”

heeseung shrugged as he scanned your confused and frustrated face, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t have though. i won’t anymore.”

you scoffed, not being able to comprehend the turn of events, “so, this will be the last time i see you?” heeseung’s lips fell into a frown and his eyes hold sadness with your question. you take his expression as the answer you didn’t want to hear and looked away from him, to the floor.

“i’m sorry, angel.” heeseung’s whispered words reached your ear as he steps closer to you, only an inch away from your face. his hand reached up to grab your chin, pulling your face so you looked at him instead of the oak floor. your eyes have nowhere to look except for him. you take in every detail of his face, his moles by his lips– the one on his forehead that you catch a glimpse of through his bangs, his thin nose that you just want to kiss.

“this’ll be it.” are his last words before he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. you stood on your toes to kiss him back, wanting him to feel all your emotions in the kiss. the kiss felt like a collision of souls, a culmination of desires that transcended into his and your realm.

your hands leave from your sides to wrap around his neck, but they ultimately fall back down to your body. you open your eyes and that’s when you see heeseung was no longer in front of you, his lips have left yours, his final, lingering touch.

you stood alone in your hallway now, your heart heavy. you knew this connection with heeseung could’ve ended with a heartbreak, but you wish it would’ve lasted longer. you wish you could’ve talked to him more before the final kiss.

with tears streaming down your face, you whispered a final goodbye to him before going to bed, hoping and wishing that he would visit your dreams again.

there were no more dreams of heeseung. no more sightings of him. just, nothing.

it made you question if he was even real and wasn’t some part of your imagination.

the more you questioned yourself and heeseung’s intentions, the more you could feel yourself grow into the dark pit your mind had made for you. your inner self was battling too many fights at once that your physical self felt weak and tired. everyday went by at the same slow pace with the same boring routine. each day seems to fade into one, unable to tell the difference between them as you fight the internal battle you’ve created for yourself.

on one side, you knew that heeseung was dangerous. just a few months ago you didn’t even think demons were real. but now that you were aware, you should know all of the scary movies and stories and myths you had heard about them were real. you knew that heeseung had a power that could harm people. the thought of him hurting someone jabbed at your heart and made you feel ill.

on the other side you felt a strong connection to him. the way he was gentle with you and watched over you even though he knew he shouldn’t have. it lets you know that he must also feel the same connection that you do. he’s alluring and different and makes you feel like you’re special. no one has ever been able to make you feel as good as him.

so now that he’s gone, you struggle to really know your worth all because of a demon.

at work, mary seemed to notice you were struggling, well everyone could tell. but your friend confronted you one evening as you were leaving work. “hey, y/n!”

you turned at the voice of your friend, watching her chase after you in your work building. you hold the door for her and watch as her smiling face approaches you. usually you would be happy to see your friend, but you’re just so exhausted that you struggle to smile back at her.

“you going home now?” mary asked once she’s reached you.

“yeah,” you replied, starting walk outside now with mary beside you.

“right, well can we talk for a second?”

you stop and nod at your friend, wanting her to continue.

“y/n, i’ve noticed a change in you. you seem, i don’t know, depressed. you can tell me what’s going on.”

you tense at her words, not knowing what to say. “nothing’s wrong, mary. thanks though.” you turned away from her, hoping to get to your car quickly.

“wait, y/n!” mary’s arm grabbedyou to turn you around. “please, i know something’s wrong. you haven’t been the same since you moved into that house.”

you hesitated, torn between keeping your secret and the need to confide in someone. finally, you spoke in a hush tone incase someone walked by, “mary, remember heeseung, that demon we spoke to on the ouija board.”

“yeah…” mary’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

“well, we accidentally summoned him, so now he’s, he’s visited me in my dreams. i hear him whispering and i see him. we’ve, spoken before.”

mary’s eyes widened with shock and concern, her voice filled with urgency, “what do you mean you’ve spoken?”

you shrugged, not wanting to tell her that you’ve had sex with him, “not much, and i can’t seem to resist him. but, he’s gone now.”

“what do you mean ‘gone’?”

‘he said that he shouldn’t still be in contact with me, and that it’s no good, so he’s left.”

mary grabbed onto your shoulders so you could only look at her. “listen to me y/n, you have to fight this. whatever going on with you now. heeseung is manipulating you. he’s a demon! you must break free from him, from this, whatever you have with him!”

but even as your friend warned you and told you the same things you’ve told yourself, your heart raced with longing for heeseung. you yearned to see him and talk to him at least one more time. heeseung was just too strong to resist.

“i, i can’t mar,” you admitted. “there’s just, something about him. i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help myself.”

mar tried to hide the disgust that was filling up with her when a genuine smile spread across your face for the first time in weeks, and it was because of a demon. an evil demon that she thought was only doing harm to her friend.

as mary reached out to hold your trembling hands she spoke, “y/n, this isn’t good for you. maybe you should stay at my house, and get away from him.”

“no!” you ripped your hands out of your best friends, “i don’t want to! i don’t want to do any of that. heeseung, he. he’s different.”

“he’s a demon!”

you scoff, “you don’t think i know that? i’m connected to him! more connected than i’ve been to anyone. he understands me. and you’ll never understand that.”

“right, i’ll never understand how my friend turned out to be such a freak! you need help!”

you jaw droppedat your friend’s words, pure anger and guilt taking over you, “yeah fuck you, mary! you’re the one that wanted to play the ouija board in the first place! so it’s your fault!” your words snap at her and you see her face fall at them before you turned on your heel and beeline it to your car. not looking back as you pull out onto the street, ready to go home.

that was the last time you went to work or saw mary.

your days from then on consisted of laying in bed and sleeping. it felt like there was a part of you that was being torn apart and you didn’t know how to fix it besides having heeseung next to you. you were sure nothing or no one else could complete you again.

your eyes felt soulless and your cheeks were stained with tears. after you lost count of how many days you layed in bed you seemed to have lost the reason why you were even crying.

heeseung wasn’t coming back. and that should be good, all he does is bring darkness around him. but then the thought of never seeing him again made you feel worse.

your body began to subtly shake as you began to cried quietly. your pillow being drenched in tears again before you fell asleep once again. the mid afternoon and tears lulling you to sleep so quickly, but the last conscious thought on your mind was of heeseung, yet again.

since heeseung left, you’ve had no dreams of him, but this time, you could feel him creeping around your mind. you were calling out to him in the woods that weren’t recognizable to you, begging him to step forward because you knew he was there. the forest was dark and every tree looked the same.

suddenly, a light was glowing behind a tree, so bright that it was almost blinding. you knew you should go towards it, having no fear in the dark forest now because of this light.

your hand reached out and touched the dark oak as you peer around it. there, surrounded by the bright light, like it was his aura, was heeseung, leaning against the other side of the tree with his pretty smirk on his face that you missed so much.

his name sounded foreign on your tongue when you said his name, and when he speaks back you realized you almost forgot what his voice sounded like completely. you were telling him how much you miss him, and then he’s pinning you up against the tree so you can’t move, his lips dangerously close to yours as he tells you he missed you, too.

just when your lips were about to touch, you jolted awake in your bed.

your room was pitch black now that it was midnight. your chest was heaving from the intense dream you were just having. you turned around to grab the glass of water on your bedside, bringing it to your lips just as you heard his voice– and you think you were dreaming again.

“i didn’t even have to infiltrate your brain that time�� that dream was all yours.”

you drop the glass out of your hand, hearing it smash against your floor as you turned around again in bed, your legs coming up to your chest as you looked at your window.

there, leaning against your window sill like he was against the tree in your dream– is heeseung.

nothing about him was different from the last time you saw him. his hair, his eyes, and his cherry lips were the exact same. though, he’s wearing a plain t shirt with his black pants this time. he lookedalmost innocent in the moonlight that’s radiating off of his pale skin, but you know it’s the last thing he is.

“heeseung!” your voice was hoarse when it comes out– it being the first time you’ve spoken in weeks. “wha- what’re you doing here?”

heeseung chuckles as he pushes himself off the sill, “what? you don’t want me here?”

“no! i do!” you speak quickly, sitting up on your knees to look at him better. he’s standing on the side of your bed, right in front of you on your knees.

“i know,” he nodded, “ and i shouldn’t be here, but i saw you dreaming about me so i just had to come.”

your hand jutted out and grabbed his wrist that’s dangling at his side, “please, stay, just a bit longer. i missed you.”

you see heeseung’s eyes fill with hesitation as he looked down at you. your hand droppedfrom his wrist as he moves his hand up to your face and grabbeda hold of your jaw. his thumb started to gently trace over your bottom lip.

“i missed you, too, angel.” his nickname for you falls easily off his lips as he speaks, and it makes you want to close your eyes to take in the moment but don’t just in case when you open them again he’ll be gone. “it’s late though, you should be sleeping.”

“no, heeseung! please, i don’t need to sleep. just stay.”

heeseung tsked but nodded to your pillow behind you, “let’s lay down, then.”

you fell back into your bed, watching as heeseung lifted your blanket and crawled in beside you. you were laying on your back as he was laying on his side facing you. he reached up and pushed your hair behind your ear so he could look at you better.

“i really missed you,” you toldhim with sorrow in your eyes.

“i know, and it upset me to see you that way everyday– you were just so– so sad,” he responds, you feel his hand slip under the sheets to meet your hand, linking your fingers together.

“i just, can’t forget how you made me feel. i’m so happy when i’m with you,”

heeseung’s hand went limp in yours at your words, “you shouldn’t feel that way with me, y/n– you know what i am,” heeseung own eyes were filled with sorrow and guilt as he looked at you. your room stayed silent as you take in his words, hearing from him what you’ve been telling yourself the entire time. “but, you’ve changed me forever. you’ve shown me that even in this demon form i still have feelings.”

your gazes locked, in that moment both of you realized that you were both trapped in a blessing and curse. a force that defied the rules of the mortal and death realm. but, despite the risks, both of you couldn’t deny your feelings for each other.

“so then stay with me, at least just for tonight.” you suggested, hoping and praying that he said yes.

heeseung nodded, the weight of your choices on both of your shoulders, “of course.”

with a tender smile, heeseung leaned in, making your lips meet each other in a soft lingering kiss. he pulled away for a moment, taking in your reaction, which is full of longing and neediness, that he leaned in again, longer this time.

instantly, you feel in a big burst just how much you need him. and he could sense it too. you feel him smile into the kiss, almost teasing you about your desperate need for him.

“you want me, y/n?” he mumbled into your lips, not wanting to pull away. you whimper a yes into his mouth, his tongue exploring yours as they mesh together in a more feverish kiss. “‘m gonna make you feel good, angel.” he pressed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. “why don’t you take your shorts off for me?”

“okay,” you whispered to him. you lay your head further into your pillow as you reach down, untie and then slip off your short– just what heeseung had asked you to do.

heeseung didn’t hesitate to place his hand on your pussy, the part that he didn’t know he’s been missing so much until now. his two fingers started to find your clit, rubbing circles around it. it was a light pressure at first but it already started to feel so good since it was heeseung there with you. his mocha eyes had already turned full black when you looked up at him again, his gaze on you intent as he watched you respond to his touch.

your back started to arch when heeseung picked up his fingers’ pace and pressure. he leaned on his side, holding himself up on his arm as he watched you with a smirk on his face. you were about to tell him to go faster when he suddenly pushed his fingers inside of you, making you gasp out.

“hee– please,” the nickname falling from your lips sent a shiver down his spine, not having heard that name since he was a mortal.

heeseung’s fingers were so much longer than your own, him being able to reach places no one has before. your wet walls took him in so well that it was hard for him to move his fingers.

“tell me how good you’re feeling,” heeseung practically whispered into your ear.

“feels so good, heeseung, please don’t stop.” you begged him, his fingers slowing down their pace for a second so you could respond to him.

“who’s making you feel so good,” heeseung’s voice was stern, “tell me.”

“y-you, heeseung. only you can make me feel so good.”

heeseung chickles at your obedience, “that’s my good angel.”

heeseung didn’t hesitate to then curl his digits, immediately brushing your g-spot, making your toes curl in from the pleasure. you could feel the tension building in your body– growing in your stomach. heeseung loved watching you begin to unfold just from his fingers, but it scared him that he liked it so much.

heeseung had made multiple women feel good in his time as a mortal and as a demon, but he’s never truly cared to make them feel good except for you. with you, he only wants you to feel good again and again and again.

as the pleasure continued, your brain stopped functioning properly, only being able to focus on heeseung and his actions. you were so close to your high that you felt like you could climax at any moment.

heeseung bent his head down and kissed your clit, making your hips arch into his face, causing him to chuckle into your wet folds, “so close are we? feel like you can cum?”

you whimper a yes, “s-so close, please hee.” you just kept begging him tonight. not wanting him out of your reach ever again.

heeseung’s tongue wrapped around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. a loud gasp escaped your lips as your hand fell down into his black hair, pulling on it for support. heeseung only continued to finger fuck you and suck your clit. his tongue seemingly hitting everywhere that made you feel good.

“right there! please! right there!” you cried out to him, your eyes threatening to shut.

“cum on my fingers, y/n, cum all over like the good angel i know you are.” heeseung’s words were muffled in your wet pussy. your thighs were closing around his hand. the pleasure from his fingers, tongue and words becoming too much for you.

a final wave of pleasure pushed you over the edge, making your body tense and numb as you rocked out your high. your whiny moans and calls of heeseung’s name were the only sounds in the room as heeseung let you ride out your high on his tongue.

when your body finally came down and crashed back down onto your bed you sighed, feeling too weak and happy o push heeseung away from you. he placed a final kiss on your clit and gently pulled his soaked fingers out of you before popping them into his mouth.

you were about to protest before he was humming around them and speaking, “god, you taste so good, i don’t know how i could ever leave you.” you placed your hands over your face, too embarrassed at his statement to look at him. “stop, lemme see your face– i missed it so much.” heeseung pulled your hands away from your face.

“i missed you a lot, too, hee.” you toldhim seriously again. having no idea that heeseung’s spine shivered at the nickname once more.

heeseung pulled the blanket over you both, laying down beside you again. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his cold chest. you didn’t mind his lack of body warmth, finding it easier to fall asleep on in your hot bedroom. your fingers interlocked with his as your bodies suctioned together, neither one of you wanting the other to go.

“go to sleep now, angel.” heeseung whispered into your hair, pressing a kiss onto your head.

“i don’t want to.” you toldhim honestly, scared that when you wake up he won’t be here.

“y/n, go to sleep. i promise you i’ll be here when you wake up.”

“promise?”

“i promise. there’s nowhere else i’d wanna be.”

a soft smile spreads on your face as you nestle into his chest, eyes finally closing. you felt his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, even though there was no sound of a heartbeat coming from it.

but as heeseung’s fingers caressed your hair, you allowed yourself to let go of the worries that plagued you. in his embrace you found solace, a refuge from the chaotic reality that awaited you outside of this moment, outside of this house.

your bedroom, in that serene moment, the world slumbered around you two. you finally surrendered to the peace that eluded you for so long. with your heart steadily beating and breaths slowing, you drifted off into a deep slumber. you know that within the confines of this shared embrace, you would find strength to face whatever the future held, united with heeseung that seemed to defy all odds.

when you awakened to the gentle rays of dawn, your eyes fluttered open, instantly shifting to the space beside you. you felt your heart skip a beat when you see that heeseung was still there, his presence warm and comforting against his cold skin.

heeseung was already awake, glancing down at you softly as you fully wake up.

“you’re still here,” you whispered, your voice mixed with surprise and relief.

heeseung’s lips form a tender smile as he speaks, “of course. i’ve been watching you sleep.” he confesses, his words carrying a sense of vulnerability.

a red blush colours your cheeks as you sit up beside him. “and i slept so peacefully. it’s been awhile since i’ve slept this good.”

heeseung’s eyes change with your words to ones of regret, “i know you’ve been so sad,” remorse fills his words, “it feels like all i can do to bring sorrow or fleeting pleasure to people.”

you shook your head, your eyes sincere as you reach out to touch his cheek gently, “you make me happy, hee. just having you here for more than an hour means more than you’ll ever know.”

a graceful smile joins heeseung’s lips, hopefulness in his eyes, “i promise, y/n. i’ll stay by your side forever.”

with his words you realize how isolated and alone you have been feeling with your struggles. but now, with heeseung by your side, you felt like you could do anything in this sanctuary with him. even if he was surrounded with darkness that threatens to consume you.

you quickly push the last thought away, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a gentle, soft kiss. a kiss that both of you find a sense of belonging in. the promise of his presence and unwavering devotion filled your core with happiness.

one evening, as halloween approached, you two found yourselves cozying up on the couch, spending the entire day showing heeseung some popular horror movies. it had been weeks of living in isolation with heeseung, the flickering glow of the screen filled up the living room you’ve been spending the most time in. your fingers were intertwined with his as you both were watching ‘Paranormal Activity’.

heeseung let out an amused huff from beside you as another jumpscare happened on the screen. “i still don’t understand how people can find these movies scary.” he states in bewilderment.

you chuckle softly, putting your head on his shoulder as you do. “well it’s a way to feel scared without any real consequences. like you aren’t actually getting chased by a ghost woman.”

heeseungs laugh fills the room, the tension of your unique situation momentarily forgotten as you absorb the movie. when the credits started to fill the tv, the room fell into a comfortable silence, and your fingers continued to trace random, gentle patterns onto heeseung’s thigh.

“can i ask you something, hee?” you askedhim as he started to find another horror movie to laugh at.

“mhm,” he mumbled a yes, eyes trained on the tv.

you took a deep breath, your fingers stilling on his thigh. “how did you become a demon?”

the question hung in the air, and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. but heeseung slowly put down the remote he was holding and looked over to you. his eyes held a hint of melancholy, as if your question had flashed multiple memories through his mind all at once.

“it’s nothing special of a story, really.” he shrugged and sits back into the couch, attention only on you now.

“okay, but i want to hear it.” you told him and he rolls his eyes playfully, “please.” you whine only for him to laugh.

“fine, but really, it’s nothing special, i was selfish, i let my desires control me– which made me hurt the people that i cared for. i betrayed their trust, and let my own pleasure overshadow everything else.”

“like what?”

heeseung sighs, “i use to be a musician, and i was in a band.”

“a band?” you exclaim in excitement.

“yes, and we were somewhat popular. a couple of people came to our gigs. mostly women.” you elbow him and he chuckles but continues, “it’s funny, but i’m serious. i used a lot of the women that came to our shows for sex, and then i wouldn’t talk to them again. i didn’t care if they had boyfriends or husbands or girlfriends or– whatever– because i knew i’d be gone the next day to another city.”

“okay, but i don’t know how that would make you a demon, a lot of men are fuck boys.” you interject with confusion.

heeseung hesitated, “well, i had a friend– he was my best friend– jake. he played guitar in our band. and he had this girlfriend– and i- i don’t know.”

you place your hand ontop of his, “it’s okay heeseung, you can tell me. please.”

heeseung sighedagain, but continues, “i was drunk or high a lot and one night, after a show, her and i were in my dressing room, and we– we hooked up.” you take in a sharp inhale at his words, “and jake, he walked in.”

“what did you do then?”

“i- i wanted to chase after him, but minjeong– his girlfriend– told me to stay and that she’d talk to him. and then i didn’t hear anything from them until the next morning and, and–” heeseung sits up, putting his head in his cold hands.

“and what?” you askedhim, your hand instinctively coming to rest on his back.

“they told me– the cops told me, that jake had died in a car crash. he was speeding and he was drunk and he died.”

“i’m so sorry, heeseung i-.”

“no, don’t be.” heeseung sits up and lookedat you, your hand falling from his body. “i don’t deserve to have any sympathy. he’s dead because of me.”

“no, he died because he was speeding and drunk.”

“yeah because he caught me with minjeong. god– and he loved her so much. i don’t know why i did it.”

“well you said it yourself, you were high or drunk. it’s not completely your fault. minjeong also was a part of it.”

ok trigger warning frfr.

heeseung sighs, his eyes closing as he placing his hand over his eyes, “yeah and thats why she took her own life.”

a small gasp left your mouth.

heeseung lookedat you with remorse in his eyes, “i’m sorry, maybe i shouldn’t have told you this.”

“no,” you sit back into the couch’s arm rest, “it’s alright. i just wasn’t expecting it.”

heeseung scoffs, “well you don’t become a demon for no little accident, angel.”

the room feel hoarse and dry as you take in what heeseung has told you. you know he’s a demon, and he’s done awful things. but you just could never imagine the heeseung that you know to cause such awful things to happen to others.

“so,” your voice was small when it comes out, “how did you die?”

heeseung cracks a sinister smile in the corner of his mouth, “an overdose. a month after jake passed.”

“oh my god,” your hand covers your mouth.

“it was an accident. i just needed something to cope with the loss of them both– and the guilt.”

“i’m so, so sorry, hee.”

“no!” heeseung turns to you, almost anger in his eyes as he speaks, “i told you. dont feel sorry for me. i don’t deserve it. jake and minjeong didn’t deserve what i did. and i can’t make up for it– but maybe being a demon– sent to hell for eternity can somehow make up for at least 1 percent of it.”

you swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the self-rage in his eyes, “heeseung,” you began, moving towards him on the couch so you were next to him, holding his hand. somehow in his story you two had separated. “i know that what you’ve done in your past has caused a lot of pain, and guilt. but you’re not alone with this anymore. you have me, and i believe that someone– anyone can change and have redemption.”

heeseung’s eyes changed from anger to gratitude and disbelief, “you don’t hate me for what i’ve done?”

you shook your head no, your heart aching for the demon that you love. “no, hee. i can see that you feel so guilty, and have remorse. we all make mistakes. it’s important that you grow from them, even if it is in an unwanted location.”

heeseung lets out a heavy sigh and finally gives in to your touch. “i’ve carried this burden with me for so long. not a day goes by that i don’t think of them, and how if i had the chance, i would take it all back. i would bring them back to life in an instant.”

you give him a kiss on the cheek, “we all deserve a chance to change and to heal. i believe in you heeseung– im sure not all demons are as loving and guilt ridden as you. i’m here for you.”

heeseung’s eyes soften as he lookedat you. his expression filled with love and relief. he nodded to the couch cushion behind you, wanting you to lay down with him. you do so with no hesitation. your face pressed into his chest, breathing in his scent.

the last words you hear before you fall asleep, wrapped together with heeseung on your couch are,

“you’ll always be an angel.”

the weeks had started to stretch into months, and the isolation, the secrecy and the shadowy nature of your relationship with heeseung was beginning to take it’s toll. the love you shared was undeniable, but it was also tangled in such darkness.

your phone calls with your parents, once filled with excitement, had turned into strained conversations. it seemed like every time the phone rang with their caller id, you found yourself rolling your eyes and snapping at them once you answered. soon, the phone calls stopped happening.

your dreams and aspirations, once a beacon of light for yourself, now seemed like distant fantasies that you could never reach. that you never wanted to reach. you found yourself becoming increasingly negative about everything except for your relationship with heeseung.

after the last phone call from your parents, heeseung’s concern became palpable. he had been watching your calls with your parents overtime, and had seen how dark and mean they had become. his gaze continuously filled with more and more worry. bitterness seemed to have filled you everytime you spoke to your parents, your friends or about your future or interests.

one day, heeseung had caught you staring at the picture of your parents sitting on the window sill in the living room. your eyes were glazed over, but he could tell you were hurting and confused. heeseung prepared himself before walking over to you. his touch gentle as he brushed your hair behind your ear. his cold heart tinged as he watched a beautiful smile spread across your face. the smile he only ever sees when you were talking to him.

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

“sure, about what?” your smile never left your face as you looked at him so lovingly in the eyes.

heeseung sighed before he speaks, “i’ve noticed your anger, your negativity– you’ve not been who you truly are, for a while now.”

your smile dropped at his words, “what’re you talking about?”

“i’m talking about, how you apparently hate your parents now, and how you don’t want to go to work, or hang out with friends. you just want to stay in this house.”

“well of course i want to stay in this house, “ your hand jutted out and grabbed his arm, “that’s where you are. where you and i can be together.”

heeseung suddenly wants to shake you and hope that it’s enough to wake you up from whatever trance you’ve been in for weeks. but he knows that’s not the solution.

“y/n, angel,” he sits you back down on the couch with him. “i knew this would happen, but i hoped it wouldn’t. but it has.”

“what’s happened?” you asked him confused, feeling your heart pick up its pace at his seriousness.

“when a human interacts with a demon or spirit for too long, it starts to affect them, change them in a way.” you pout as you looked up at him, trying to understand what he’s saying. “i’ve changed you, y/n. i’ve turned you into someone you’re not.”

“no you haven’t!” you argued, ripping your arms away from his grasp.

heeseung sighs, “c’mon angel. you know that you’ve never been such a bitter, negative person. that’s not you! you’re sweet, and kind, and- and an angel!”

heeseungs words seem to break a small bit of ignorance in your brain. tears start brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “i- i don’t know whats happening to me, heeseung. i can’t control it. i feel lost.”

heeseung’s expression turned to pained as he took your hands into his. “y/n, our love is special, but there’s darkness. i’m the darkness. you deserve a life full of light, hope and true love. i’m afraid that i’ve been dragging you down into my shadows, losing you.”

your heart ached at his words, realization setting in. “what do we do, hee? how can we stop it?”

heeseung looked into your eyes, hesitation and regret covering his face before he speaks, “well, there’s two choice, angel. it’s not an easy one, but it’ll make you feel better.”

you nodded, “tell me, heeseung. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

his voice was soft and filled with anguish when he speaks again, “you either come with me to the dark world, where our love can exist with no secrecy, or i leave, and eventually your goodness, your light, yourself, will return.”

your tears started to spill down your cheeks as the gravity of his words sunk in, but you knew what you wanted to do. “i choose you. i’ll come with you.”

but heeseung shook his head, “i won’t let you make that sacrifice, y/n. you deserve a life filled with great things. i can see it ahead of you– i always have been. and i won’t be the one to extinguish your light and life.”

“no! i can’t imagine being without you, heeseung.”

heeseung gripped your hands tighter in his, “i know it feels like that now, but i promise you, you’ll feel so much better without me. you’ll feel love from everyone that cares about you. your family, your friends– the life and people you have in the future.”

“hee, please.”

“i can see your children, y/n. your daughter looks so much like you.”

you burst into tears at his words, your body falling forwards onto his. “heeseung, i- i can’t.”

“you can. and you will. i’m sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. i didn’t want this to happen, but i’m so selfish.”

you take his face into your hands, examining every part of his face, scared that it’ll be the last time you see him, “you aren’t selfish heeseung. you’ve showed me what real love is like– real love is when you love someone no matter their mistakes, you love someone even when others tell you not to. i’m so grateful for you, i can’t let you go.” tears started to fill heeseung’s eyes as well, your warm hands on his cold skin making his dead heart ache. “please, don’t leave, heeseung.”

his voicewasraspy when he speaks, “i have to, angel.”

you shook your head, not wanting to believe it, but knowing deep down it has to happen. you have to get back to your old self. you could not live in isolation with a man who’s not alive anymore. “then please, stay one more night.”

heeseung bit his lip, knowing he shouldn’t, but also knowing he could never say no to you. “okay, angel. i will.”

you instantly press your lips to his. the ever so familiarity of them engulfs both of you.

“i love you.” you told him sincerely.

“i love you, too angel.” his breath fanned over your lips before he’s grabbing the back of your neck with his palm lightly, pulling you closer to him. his tongue entered your mouth, wanting to taste everything from you for what he knows will be the last time.

your hands started to slip down his chest to his black jeans. his own cold hands were keeping your lips locked with his. he ignored your attempts at undoing his jeans by pushing back onto the couch, your lips and tongues still meshing together.

heeseung talented hands pushed aside your shorts and panties, finding your clit so easily now after months spent together. you moaned into his mouth, his fingers adding just the right amount of pressure.

suddenly, heeseung pulled away from your lips. your chests were heaving from the lack of oxygen. he pressed a final, quick kiss to your lips before he delves into your pussy. his fingers keeping your shorts and panties pushed to the side. your juices coat his lower half of his face. his eyes closing as he tastes you, wanting to remember the way the sweetness tingles on his tongue.

two of his fingers slip inside of you, heading straight for your gspot. a gasp of his name left your mouth, and your hand shot to tangle with his soft, black hair.

“you’re so good for me angel, always taste so good.” he mumbled into your wet lips. the vibration of his words rumble through your body and straight back down to your core. your hips found it hard to stay still as heeseung’s implementing pleasure continues through your body. your mind started to become hazy the faster your high approached.

“i’m gonna cum, hee, please, please let me,” you begged him out of habit.

“yes angel, do it for me, let me taste you cum one last time.”

you reached your high with a heavy heart, but pleasure still coursing through your veins as you wanted more of him. you whimper at the loss of contact as he pulled away from your core. only for you to be flipped over onto your stomach. you feel his hands started to pull down your shorts and panties before he discarded them across the living room.

“wanna fuck you from the back, know you love it when i do.” heeseung’s voice spoke, his hands coming down to roughly grab your ass.

“please, sir, want it so bad.”

his hand slapped down on your ass cheek hard, causing your body to rock forward into the couch arm rest. a cry escaped your lips but the pleasure from the slap rippled right down to your gaping core.

“that’s my good girl, beg for this cock.”

“i want your cock deep inside of me, wanna feel it touch my cervix, please sir.”

you heard heeseung’s dark chuckle before he slapped your ass once more as he slipped his hard cock into your wet core. he slipped in so easily and filled you right up. “fuck,” he groaned once he’s balls deep, “like this pussy was made for me.”

you whimper at his words, agreeing with him.

heeseung’s thrusts started out quick and rough, just how you know you both like it. just like how you both know no one else will be able to make each of you feel this good ever again. you know only heeseung could make you feel this high with just his cock.

your nails started to dig into the couch cushion underneath you as heeseung’s thrusts started to get sloppier. your orgasms starting to ignite from the pleasure. grunts, curses and whimpers of each other’s names fill the living room as you both cum at the same time.

your breaths were heavy as heeseung’s sweaty core lays ontop of your back, still wanting to be as close as you as possible before he could never be again. he pressed a kiss into your temple before he slowly pulled out, wincing at your soft whimpers from the overstimulation.

your breaths were steady when you felt something warm and wet start to clean inbetween your thighs. you look and see heeseung fully dressed, wiping the mess you had both made in between your thighs with a cloth. you watched him as he so carefully gets every sticky substance off of you, before he pressed a soft, delicate kiss onto your bare thigh.

when he was done, he placed the cloth on the coffee table and sighed as he meets your eyes and offered you his hand, “come, let’s get you into some clean clothes.”

it was silent between the two of you as heeseung picked out some grey sweatpants and a sweater for you to wear. when you dressed, he layed you down into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and tucked you in. you couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down your face, and you didn’t mention the tears threatening to leave heeseung’s eyes as he sat on your bed, looking down at you for the last time.

“i love you, y/n.” heeseung spoke quietly, as if anyone could hear him.

“i love you, too, hee.”

heeseung’s hand reached out and brushed a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, “you know you’ll always be my angel, right?”

a sad, whimper of a yes escaped your mouth, then heeseung leaned down, pressing his lips into yours. your eyes closed, wanting to take in his presence as much as you could, so you could remember everything in perfect detail.

you’re about to object to him leaving, but when you open your eyes, heeseung was gone.

you sit up in your bed on your elbows, looking around your room frantically. tears were blurring your vision as you tried to find his silhouette in the shadows. but you know it’s no use. heeseung is gone, and you will never see him again.

the days after heeseung left were agnoizingly slow. each moment weighed down by a sense of loss and regret. you wish you could’ve went with him. but the other part of you knows that this was for the best. but his absence felt like a gaping void that seemed like it would never be filled or satisfied. the sunrises no longer held the same excitement for the day ahead of you spent with him, and the nights were now filled with loneliness instead of your shared laughter.

but as the weeks passed, a subtle shift occurred. a shift so subtle that you didn’t realize it had happened until weeks after. the painful hole in your heart started to fill with light that you thought you had lost forever. the world, once shrouded in comfortable, dark shadows, started to regain it’s bright, welcoming colours.

you called your parents.

you dialed their number with a sense of hope, knowing that your past conversations had been filled with anger and resentment. but as your mothers voice greeted you on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. tears started streaming down yoru face as you began to apologize.

your parents’ voices were filled with love and understanding. they forgave you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the warmth that came with love and care. it was the first step of healing for you. the first step to rediscovering your brightness that life could offer you.

you began to rebuild your life. working towards finding a journalism job, fixing your relationship with yoru parents, and resetting goals you had lost for months.

you reached out to mary, wanted to make amends for how distant and unkind you were to her. you met at your favourite cafe, the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods creating a comforting atmosphere for your nerves.

mary looked at you with curiosity and concern as she sat down in front of you. you took a deep breath as you both said hello. your voice already filled with sincerity and apologetic.

“i’m so sorry, mary. for the way i’ve acted and how we ended it. i shouldn’t have pushed you away or treated you so poorly. i know you were just trying to help me– and you know, you mean the world to me. so i hope you can forgive me. if not now, then in the future.”

mary’s eyes softened instantly, and offered you a forgiving smile. “of course, i forgive you. it was kinda my fault you met heeseung in the first place.”

his name makes your heart ache, “what do you mean?”

“i’m the one who wanted to use the oujia board remember.”

a smile cracks on your lips, “right, i guess so.” mary laughed for a second, before her eyes widened suddenly.

“so what did ever happen with him? is he, gone?”

you gulpped before you speak, “it’s a long story, but yes, he’s gone.”

mary nodded in understanding, “so what’re you going to do now?”

your shoulders perk up at her question, “well i’m almost done selling the house– and i’ve got a job in new york at a newspaper reporting job.”

mary’s eyes expand in surprise, “that’s great, y/n! but you love that house!”

you shrugged, “i loved that house. i’ve had a change of heart. i want something new, with no memories attached to it– or oujia boards in the attic.”

mary laughed, and offers her coffee mug in the air for you to clink yours together, “here’s to fresh starts– and having no oujia boards in attics.” you smile at meet your mug with her’s, welcoming the new beginning of your life.

as you sipped your coffees together and caught up on each other’s lives, you felt a renewed sense of hope. the future was filled with uncertainty, and the pain of your separation from heeseung always lingered, but you knew the memory of him will only help guide your future.

you were determined to shape a future that would be defined by your newfound strength and resilience, and a life enriched by the lessons you learnt with heeseung.

years have passed, and your time in new york has brought you nothing but amazing opportunities. your life has taken a new, vibrant direction.

now, you stand proudly with your family, beaming with joy as you showed them the very first house you have ever bought. their laughter and excitement filled the air as they explored the town their mother and wife had grown up in.

as the day was soon to be ending, your daughter’s voice chimes up at you, “c’mon mom, let’s go to grandma and grandpa’s for ice cream!”

“yeah! i want chocolate ice cream, mom!” your son jumps up at his sister’s idea.

you agree with a warm smile, following your family back towards your car. but, just before leaving, you cast one last look back at your old home.

there, in your old bedroom window, where the moonlight shined in so beautifully, stands heeseung. his presence is fleeting, but the same playful smirk adorns his face, the very expression that had drawn you to him from the beginning. in that moment, your eyes interlock, and you feel the unspoken connection that had transcended realms.

the certainty settles within your heart that someday, your love will bridge the divide between the mortal and otherwordly, between an angel and a demon.

as you walk away, hand in hand with your husband, you knew that the tapestry of your love with heeseung is far from complete, and the promise of your reunion lingers in the air, like a whisper that only you and heeseung can hear.

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#enhypen #smut #enhypen smut #heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enha #hard hours #angst

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mrchiipchrome · 3 months

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W.C. - 3.8 k

The long awaited part two of Parents:)

——————

The few days before the season started had always been your favorite, the excited butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach and the sheer anticipation of getting to play against other teams in the league with the possibility of winning it all, it was just on a whole other level.

The energy around the locker rooms always changed too, everyone sharing the same excited energy about getting to play league football again after a long summer. You had always enjoyed the excitement coursing through your body and you had to wait an entire summer to get it back.

So when you wake up less than a week before the season started with the back of your nose bolting with pain and your throat itching like hell, you cannot believe it. The immense pressure behind your eyes and the pounding headache only makes you feel that much worse.

Your limbs feel heavier than usual as you climb out of bed, the heinous task of putting one foot in front of the other makes your head spin and your vision blackens. In order to not pass out, you took immediate hold of the dresser that stood near your bed, swaying back and forth slightly.

Hot and cold flashes shoot down your arms and legs, and as another stabbing pain shoots through your head you can’t keep from letting out a pained hiss.

Your feet drag along the ground as you shuffle towards the kitchen, not ready to start your day what-so-ever. 05.37 flashes bright green as the oven comes into view, loud yawn you let out a sure indication of that.

Opening the cabinet, you reach your hand up and feel around for the crinkling plastic that accompanies the paracetamol, and as the ridged plastic is felt under your fingers you wrap them around the packaging.

Making sure to not make too much sound, as to not wake your parents, you quickly pop a tablet right into your slightly sweaty hand before moving over to the sink and turning on the tap. You fill your mouth with water before popping the pill into your mouth and swallowing quickly, just so that it doesn’t start to dissolve in your mouth.

Dragging your feet back to your room, you looked closer to a zombie than you did a 15 year old footballer, the bags under your eyes really encompassing the zombie spirit.

—-

The next time your eyes opened, you somehow felt worse. The pounding headache is only enforced by Lucy’s obnoxious shouts of your name, trying to get you to wake up. The loud whining of the door hinges cuts deep into your ears, but the soft footsteps that follow it soothes your ears.

Freezing fingers make contact with your face, stroking softly over your cheekbones as the owner tries a different approach to waking you up. The bed dips beside your covered form, Keira’s low voice trying to coax you from the slumber while her hand moves up to scratch at your scalp slightly.

Instead of having a waking effect on you, it slowly lulls you back to sleep, the massage making your brain unscramble and not hurt as much. Your entire body slowly shifts to lay on Keira’s instead of the mattress, your head landing on her shoulder as you sling one arm around her in a tight grip.

Soon enough, you’re lying fully on top of the older girl who you fully considered a parent, whilst the other one was downstairs wondering what had happened to waking you up.

Keira only looks up from her ministrations when she hears the door open once again, meeting her girlfriends eyes quickly before they move back down to your overheating body. Lucy’s steps echo throughout the room when she moves closer to the bed, and as her hand meets your forehead she feels the unusual warmth emitting from the skin there.

She meets Keira’s eyes yet again, the younger of the two shaking her head vividly as to signal that you couldn’t go to practice under any circumstances. Sighing, Lucy picks up her phone in order to send a quick text to the coach, informing him of their absence.

The bed dips one more time as Lucy settles in beside her kid and girlfriend, bringing her hand up to rub at your back slowly.

“Has she seemed off to you the last few days?” Keira questions quietly, the whisper meeting Lucy’s ears softly and she instinctively smiles at the accented voice.

“No, not outside of being excited for the season to start. Oh…I just remembered, she’s been more clingy than usual with everyone, not just us.” Lucy whispers back before pressing a quick kiss to your warm temple.

Keira’s finger trails down as she starts to trace your features, the cold hand a contrast to your hot skin. You break out in a coughing fit soon after, a big ball of mucus escaping your throat before disappearing back down again.

The two women look at each other yet again, communicating through their eyes as you seem somewhat delirious. Picking your head up off Keira’s shoulder, the women watch on as your eyes flit around the room before seemingly taking notice of the clock sitting on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen for a second before you’re springing up off the bed in a hurry, ignoring the sudden dizziness you start to wrangle with your sleepshirt. You hear laughter coming from the direction of your bed and you slowly lower the shirt back down.

“What are you laughing at? We’re super late! Why’d you not wake me?! Oh I’m gonna have to run so many laps.” You exclaim loudly through a croaky voice, almost sounding like you have a frog sitting in your sternum.

“Y/n, you’re sick. We called out of training, there’s nothing to worry about.” Lucy explains softly, like you would explain to a toddler that they can’t get a toy.

“Wha-what? ‘m not sick, where did you get that fro-” Your protest is cut off by yet another coughing fit, contradicting your words as they look at you with a ‘really?’ look. Tears gather in your eyes when you start to cough again, the exasperation of the action draining you.

Lucy gets up from the bed to sling her arm around your midsection, leading you back to where Keira sat with open arms. As you lay back onto the bed, Keira and Lucy entrap you in a human sandwich, the two laying on either side of you.

And that’s how sleep once again overtakes your body, the sounds of quiet snores floating around the room.

—-

“Y/n, wake up. It’s time for lunch.” Lucy’s the one to wake you this time, the woman slapping your cheek softly as a way to wake you up.

All she gets in response is unintelligible mumbling before you sit up abruptly and frankly, throw yourself off the bed and onto the floor. The resulting thud makes Lucy hold back laughter, but she can’t hold it in anymore as instead of getting up and walking you army crawl all the way to the door. It’s frankly a hilarious sight to be seen, the little grunts you let out as the hardwood floor comes in contact with your elbows and knees.

In reality, it would probably be much easier for Lucy to bring your lunch to you, but she, like usual didn’t think that far. She also liked watching you struggle like a fish out of water against the floor.

When she finally decided to take pity on you, you’d already crawled halfway across the room, whispering a firm ‘yes sir’ every now and then.

Lucy’s hands hook under your armpits as she hoists you up to your feet, your dead weight no easy feat to move even for the strong defender. It was like slinging a dead body over her shoulders when Lucy finally managed to get your limp body up, you could barely stand on two feet let alone walk all the way down to the kitchen.

She nearly throws you down into the chair as your dead weight drops, the gravitational pull meaning your body falling down into the seat.

“Oh I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She says softly, taking your face in her hands to inspect your warm and red cheeks, eyes nearly at the point of closing.

“No, ‘s fine you didn’t hurt me, ‘m totally fine.” The slurred words make Lucy worried, in the short time that you’d lived with her and the redhead you’d only managed to get sick once before, but even then it wasn’t as severe as now. Back then it was merely a slight cold that went away with some cough drops, but now it was clear that this wasn’t some harmless cold.

Maybe it would be good to take you to the doctors after all, even though her and Keira had agreed on waiting for a little to see if it would get worse. But Lucy was rightly concerned for your well-being, there was no way she’d let you continue without at least seeing a doctor. This feeling was only heightened by the coughing fit you suddenly found yourself in.

“Okay Y/n, you’re going to eat your soup and if you don’t feel better after that then we’ll wait for Keira to come back from the store and then go to the hospital together, that okay with you kiddo?” Her hand is on your shoulder as she looks into your halflidded eyes, speaking slowly and gently so that you’re able to understand her in your fever ridden state.

She immediately recognises the shaking of your head as a no, you clearly didn’t want to go to the doctors, even if Lucy tried to bribe you.

“No, no doctor, ‘m fine.” You mumble out incoherently, waving your hands around pretty obviously trying to deter the defender, to make her change her mind.

“Listen bubs, you’re clearly not fine and it’s worrying me and Kei a lot. We don’t have to go to the doctors office per se, if you want we can go see the physios at the training grounds, do you want that?” Lucy sees your hesitant nod at her proposal, still not wanting to go see anyone other than her and Keira, but the physios always let you have a piece of candy every time you come by.

“You actually got her to agree to go to the doctors?!” You hear the very distinct voice of your other mom, of course the two women knew that you saw them as some pseudo parents, but they didn’t know how you longed to call them mom, because that’s what they were in your mind. They were your moms and nothing would ever change that.

“Yeah, I think bubba’s too tired to really know what she agreed to.” Lucy responds lowly, not wanting you to decipher what it was she told the midfielder. You’d probably make quite the scene if you had heard it.

Over the next 30 minutes the Walsh-Bronze household, the two women manage to feed you the now lukewarm soup, even with your struggling against them like a toddler, get you out of your pjs and into a pair of Keira’s oversized shorts and one of Lucy’s too small for you hoodies.

After that they carry you by your arms and ankles out to the car, a rather funny sight, and lays you over the three back seats in Lucy’s car. It’s definitely unorthodox and a bit dangerous, as Keira herself noted, and so you were moved into a sitting position and helped with bucking up.

Keira decided that it's best for someone to sit with you in the back, to hold your slumped form up with their forearm in order for you not to hurt yourself even more. Ultimately, it’s decided that she’s sitting in the back with Lucy driving the familiar route to the training grounds.

It’s barely midday by the time you arrive, so most of the girls were still in training. That was lucky enough for you, too tired and depleted to walk and too stubborn to be carried like a baby in front of your team.

“Bubba? If you just let me unbuckle you quickly then we’ll find out what’s wrong with you sooner, okay?” With Keira still supporting your upper body, Lucy unbuckles you and slips your limp arms around her neck. She then carefully pulls your lanky frame out of the car, your long legs wrapping loosely around her hips.

One of the shorter woman’s hands goes underneath your thighs to prop your relatively lifeless body up and the other goes around your back to keep you from flopping back and falling to the ground. It’s only when your head is secured in the space between her neck and shoulder that she starts walking towards the large building, Keira already having locked the car.

But you don’t get far until you encounter one of your teammates, legs still dangling loosely by Lucy’s hips.

“Y/n/n? Why are you being carried?” Asisat asked you, having gone on a bathroom break only to meet you, Lucy and Keira in the hallway.

In response to the forward you let out a few incoherent babbles, brain not being able to catch up with your mouth. It’s only when the Nigerian looks to your parents that she gets to understand the situation.

“Bubba’s pretty sick, she doesn’t have the strength or energy to walk right now so that’s why she’s being carried.” Lucy just escapes being cut off by a loud coughing fit coming from the young football player in her arms, the older woman rubbing her hand up and down your back so as to sooth you.

“Ahhh okay, I assume you’re meeting with the physios? Just know that both Jana and Alexia are there right now, but I don’t think they’d be bothered by the bébé. Get well soon young Anakin.” Ever since you had watched Star Wars with Asisat, she’d been calling you ‘young Anakin’, though she always joked about you not being allowed to join the dark side. Not that you’d ever want to join Real Madrid anyway.

“‘Kay Obi-wan.” With one last stroke of your cheek, the forward departed and let you continue on your merry way to the physios room.

After a while Lucy has to retake her grip on you to make sure that you wouldn’t slide down her body, and that’s when you encounter two more teammates.

“Aye díos mio, what’s happened with the bébé?” It’s Aitana and Frido come up to you this time, the two nearly attached at the hip.

“She’s really sick, we’re meeting with the physios to see if they’ll be able to figure it out.” Keira answers this time, her voice less loud than the Spanish girl’s, indicating that it is the tone that they’re supposed to use.

“Men lilla stackare då, I’ll swing by later with some soup and crackers.” The swede says determined, clearly her motherly instincts shining through for her young teammate. “Krya på dig lillen.” With that, both of them disappear down the hallway, discussing plans on what they should bring over to the Walsh-Bronze household later that evening.

The three football players make their way to the room where the physios were, the silhouettes of multiple people showing through the artificially blurred glass. There was a need for privacy but like any other establishment, the Barcelona training grounds needed to look modernised.

Incoherent words are heard from inside the room, the door not blocking out the usual noise. There was always someone talking at the training grounds, Pina and Patri talking and making up schemes for their next pranks, Ingrid and Mapi hiding away in some closet you’d found them in more than once, Aitana and Frido speaking aimlessly about their weekends.

There was always conversation.

And in some way you relished in that fact, that the team all knew that they had someone to talk to. It wasn’t easy in the beginning despite Keira and Lucy involving you in everything they did. Luckily, you found your place pretty quickly.

You can hear the way the conversation in the room gets cut off as soon as Keira opens the door, Lucy entering right after the younger woman. When the captain sees the state you’re in, she can’t keep from gasping.

A sickly kind of pale, inner part of your lips covered in a thin layer of deep red, skin damp with a thin coat of sweat. Your arms were still loosely wrapped around Lucy’s shoulders, only letting go when she places you on the bed closest to the door.

When the weight of your head disappears from her shoulder, she finally notices the wet patch on her shirt, ‘poor bubs’ she thinks absentmindedly.

The physios swarm you almost immediately, asking Keira all types of questions, how high of a fever you had, if you’d eaten anything yet, and so many other things. It was like you’d finally spaced out fully with all the different voices stamping at your eardrums.

You focus on trying to breathe properly, the whistling sound annoying you to no end. The next coughing fit arrives abruptly, turning your body to the side as brutal coughs wrack your body, making it shake viciously with every cough.

When you fall back to your original position, there’s a big ball of dark green, yellowish mucus laying beside your head. There’s immediate concern for the physios as they notice the slight red tint the mucus has.

“How long has she been coughing like this?” One of them asks, looking directly into Keira’s wide eyes.

“Since last night, but I think it's been going on for longer.” She responds unsure, Lucy’s hand coming up to rest against her back,reminding the younger girl that she was there.

“Can you help us get her into a sitting position? Alexia, you help too.” The captain holds onto your hand, clutching it in slight fear as your body barely responds to her touch. Lucy slides in behind you, letting your body rest against hers fully.

The cold metal of the stethoscope makes contact with your overheated skin and it makes you whine, virtually the first reaction you’d given them since entering the room.

The physios face knits together uncomfortably at the noise emitted from your lungs, he becomes even more concerned when another coughing fit takes hold of your body. He motions for Lucy to push you forward slightly so he can listen to your lungs from your back. He shakes his head worriedly at the results, but he ultimately lets Lucy pull you back into her body.

He gestures for Keira to follow him out of the room, their footsteps heavy on the ground. She nearly drags her feet against the ground, knowing purely by the expression on the physios face that it probably was not good.

“It’s more than likely that she’s got a chest infection, a pretty severe one as she’s coughing blood, but we need a scan to be 100 percent sure. But as long as you and Lucy keep observing her and making sure that she’s doing relatively fine, everything should be okay in a few weeks' time. Someone does need to be with her though.” He explains carefully, looking to see her reactions, but she doesn’t let him know what she’s really thinking, only nodding along to his words.

When the two enter the room again, it’s like chickens have replaced all the grown women in the room, clearly reacting to the small amount of blood covering your chin. Keira barely manages to get a word out before Lucy shouts out a rushed sentence.

“KEIRA SHE'S COUGHING BLOOD.” Lucy is visibly panicking, her knees shaking against the bed, looking helplessly at her girlfriend who seemed calm as a cucumber even after her revelation. “WHY ARE YOU NOT FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW KEIRA? OUR CHILD IS COUGHING BLOOD.”

A lazy smile covers your face, not being able to do much more due to your energy being fully depleted, at the older woman calling you her kid.

“Luce, she’s got a chest infection, it’s normal for her to be coughing blood. Now she needs rest so it’s time to get home.” Alexia springs to her feet to help you get up, even though her knee is busted. You always admired how he cared for others.

Lucy gives you a piggyback ride back to the car, claiming it to be better for her back. In reality you knew it was so that she could hear your breathing better, but you didn’t mention it. It’s sweet, the way they care for you.

You can feel eyes on you the entire way back to the house, Lucy checking on you through the rearview mirror every time the car stops moving, Keira checking up on you every so often and pretending she wasn’t when you catch her.

Lucy’s arms must be tired after carrying you around all day, but she seemingly doesn’t care in the slightest as she puts you down carefully on the comfortable sofa. She plops down next to your prone body, her arm resting over her head as she grabs the remote to turn the tv on, knowing that the low hum of voices lulls you to sleep more often than not.

She hears how Keira moves around the kitchen, pots and pans clanging together in a destructive tune, and you nuzzle your head in under her arm, Lucy’s hand coming up to run through your hair. The day finally catches up to you as you fall asleep, tucked closely into the defender’s side.

It feels like mere moments between when you fall asleep and when you wake up, but in that surprising amount of time a lot has happened. It’s dark out, but the voices of your teammates can be heard throughout the whole house, and you open your eyes to the sight of Pina staring right at you, her face not too far from your own.

Lucy feels the way you jump when you notice the forward and she pushes Pina’s face away from you, but as soon as that happens she’s replaced by Frido, the swede shoving a spoonful of soup into your mouth.

“Sådär ja, nu kommer du att bli bättre på nolltid.” The swede smiles at you sweetly, her eyes scrunching up. There are so many people at the house, all doing something different, but everything combines perfectly into the mix that you know as Barcelona Femení.

And even though you’re annoyed by night four of Keira and Lucy sleeping in your room every night, you wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. They were your moms after all.

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh #barcelona femeni x reader #wonze #wonze x reader

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