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yuebinnie · 2 days

Text

Proverbs 5:19

☾ Pairing : Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x f!reader

☆ Warnings : mdni. Priest!Alastor, implied chubby!reader, noncanon Alastor, dubcon, coercion, blasphemy, abuse of authority, blood kink, blood drinking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering (f receiving), cunnulingus, catholic prayers used in a sexual context, scriptures used to coerce, cum eating, size kink, loss of virginity (implied, not talked about), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, literally just smut

☾ WC : 9.8k

☆ A/N : Taking a break from Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea to write Alastor smut ^^ This contains heavy Christian imagery, so if it's something you are uncomfortable with, this fic might not be for you! I really enjoyed writing this; it's my first time writing smut for Alastor, so hopefully I do not disappoint you all. I also posted the fic on AO3, if you'd prefer reading there. Have fun!

There was something about going to church that felt incredibly soothing. The deafening silence every time you walked in during the early hours of the day, steps echoing against the painted ceiling and colourful rose window, the shadows dancing behind the burning wicks of the candles set on each side of the main aisle, the smell of dust dancing in the air like a reminder of how desolate the people who came to visit truly were. You had not always been religious, but you had found peace in believing that there was a divine truth, that being good in this life would give you eternal bliss.

The church was a small one, and an old one; how it was still standing you had no idea. It was annexed to a small decrepit churchyard with moss-covered headstones that dated from at least two centuries ago. To any passersby, it'd be believed to be abandoned, as the outside of the building was quite literally falling apart, the bricks slowly eroding and the tiles covering the roof covered with the same moss as the headstones. The exterior appearance did not matter however, only the inside did; that's where God resided after all.

Despite its age, the inside and of the church was well kept. Yes, the rose window was cracked, and, as an attempt to keep the place as pure as possible, electricity had never been installed. The candles did the job of keeping the inside lit, and as for the temperature, well, dressing warmly was mandatory during the colder months of the year. The benches were old and the varnish that had once covered them was long gone; dents and chips could be found here and there, but they were still sturdy. The altar was small and simple, a wooden thing settled on a small stage that hovered only a few inches above the floor. Near the entrance sat a confessional which reeked of mould, but in the absolute presence of God, the smell was easily forgotten.

You had a habit of going to pray most days when you were not bedridden from the exhaustion of spending the night reading your favourite verses. 5 AM; the perfect time to pray, just as the world welcomed the sun's warmth and light. Very rarely did you meet anyone else; it had happened a few times, mostly old people nearing death coming to ask for absolution for their sins. Otherwise, the only person you had seen was the priest, whom you only had spoken to once or twice. He would look at you while you kneeled and mumbled prayers and verses, a smile plastered on his face.

It was the only downside of it all, that unsettling presence. The priest, a handsome man you had apologized to God for finding attractive, was always smiling. It was a bone-chilling sight; it made you feel as though he could see right through you, like he had access to every single thought that cluttered the inside of your mind. He had asked for your name once and had told you to have a 'delightful rest of the day'. That day had turned out to be horrible, as you had learned your grandmother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and only had a few months left. You had prayed for her, but God had decided to take her, nonetheless. Your subconscious had linked the priest's words as a direct cause of your grandmother's tragic diagnosis, and you had tried your best to avoid talking to him ever since.

When you woke up that morning, sweaty and feeling stickiness between your thighs, you felt sick to your stomach remembering the dreams that had plagued your mind in your slumber. A faceless man, dragging his lips down your stomach, his fingers touching your body in a way that was so sinful; the only logical explanation was that you had been visited by an incubus, an agent of evil. God was testing you, letting evil reach you to see if you'd be as faithful as Job or if you'd succumb to sin like Eve had. You cleaned yourself and changed your nightgown to proper clothes, putting a slightly warm coat on before leaving your house.

The sun had not yet started to show itself, and a thick fog floated above the quiet streets. The sky was covered with grey clouds that seemed to hang low, you wondered if you could touch them if you reached up, but your mind was too preoccupied with your predicament to try and touch something so close to Heaven. Mind running faster than a hare trying to escape a wolf, you tried to convince yourself simple prayers would do, but a loud voice kept coming back, telling you this could only be forgiven by confessing. The thought of having to talk to the priest whom you had convinced yourself was the catalyst of your grandmother's death made you want to cry, but the thought of failing God and disappointing Him was far more upsetting. You reached the church as the first rays of light made the dew covering the Earth glisten, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Your eyes fell upon the priest, who was bent down in the middle of the aisle, a long match in his hand as he lit the candles up. You froze, your eyes running across his shoulders and back. The door closed loudly behind you, and you jumped; the man's head snapped in your direction, his smile growing when he saw who had just walked in.

"You are quite early today, my dear," the priest stated simply, his focus going back to the unlit candles that still begged to melt under the burning flames. "Luckily enough, our Creator does not sleep; we're under scrutiny every second of our time on this earth."

You gulped at the words, the implications they held. You crept closer to the man, fidgeting as you thought of what to say. You let out a small quiet sigh, biting down your bottom lip as you stopped and stood a few feet away from him. The man straightened up and turned in your direction, his head tilted to the left as his gaze travelled across your face, "Oh my, whatever has you this upset?"

Your cheeks flushed as your eyes shifted from his eyes to the floor, the shame of what you had yet to confess weighing down your shoulders like the cross your Saviour had carried through heat and pain. You felt tiny, the priest towering over you; he had to be close to two feet taller than you. Had this been how Lucifer felt when he was at last pushed to meet his fate in the depths, a force greater than all administrating the final judgment? Sinfully powerless, a mere weak being? Tears gathered at your lower lash lines as you spoke, oh so quietly, your voice like the echo of an echo, "Father, I have sinned."

Seconds passed, silent ones, before the man hummed and walked past you, making his way to the front of the church. You twirled around, your eyes landing on where the priest now stood, in front of the old rotting confessional. You gulped, nodding to no one in particular before slowly making your way to the man who was stepping into the booth, the door closing behind him. You did the same, slowly closing the door after giving the empty church one last look, your eyes lingering a few seconds on the nailed Christ resting behind the altar, seemingly judging you.

You sat down, cringing at the creaking of the wood beneath your weight. The grille was pulled up, the silhouette of the man on the other side vaguely distinguishable. You took a deep breath, then spoke softly as you brought your right hand to your forehead, the gesture almost instinctual, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." You put your hand on your thigh, staring at the unmoving priest, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is.... too much time, since my last confession. I am a university student, in my last year to obtain a bachelor's degree." A low hum was heard, and you shifted in your seat, trying to find the exact words for your confession.

"Father, something terrible happened last night. In my weakened sleeping state, evil befell me. I was plagued with sinful dreams. You must understand, I am thoroughly devoted to Christ and our Lord, never have I let a man, or anyone, disgrace the body I was given; never have I had thoughts or dreams of this kind. I fear my will is not strong enough, that this evil shall come back and torment me. I fear I will fall into sin, just as our first predecessors did. I am nothing but willing, Father, so please, do help me. I am sorry for all these sins, and the sins of my past life."

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had fallen down your rosy cheeks, your eyes glued on the silhouette of the man beyond the grille. His silence made you want to cry even more; were you a lost case? Had your fate already been sealed, your soul now tainted because of the touch of evil in such sacred places? You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited, seconds becoming minutes.

"This evil you speak of, what exactly has it done to you?" His voice seemed to have dropped lower, the sound a bit raspier. You furrowed your brow slightly at the question; you had been clear about the incident. As if feeling your hesitation, the priest continued, "Ma chère, only by knowing exactly what this evil put you through can I give you absolution."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and flinched as the crack of thunder was heard beyond the church walls; your heartbeat quickened, was this Him telling you to obey?

You let out a small breath, before speaking up, the words shaky, "As I slept, this evil... Entered my dreams. It took advantage of my defenselessness. It disgraced my soul and my body. Upon waking up, there was... Remains of the sinful things it had my body do." You could feel the man's stare on you despite the grille separating you, causing yours to drop to your knees, feeling vulnerable.

"What sinful things did it inflict upon you?" Rain had started falling, as if the sky itself cried for you; the sound of it hammered against the roof, a continuous wail of grief for your poor soul.

"Father, I don't understand how this is necessa-"

"Do you not want absolution? Do you desire to be locked out of His kingdom? The choice is yours," his tone was harsher, demanding, even. You gulped and shook your head; no, that was not what you wanted. It was the furthest thing from it.

"I apologize for questioning your words, Father," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your coat, "From what I can remember... This evil took the shape of a man. A faceless man. I was in bed, and it joined me, and... We, uh, we kissed. It took my nightgown off." Your hands felt clammy, and you couldn't help but press your thighs together as you recollected the events of your dreams. "It kissed my breasts, then my stomach. It went... Down there, and stayed there until my whole body tensed up. Afterwards, it pushed itself inside me, it thoroughly disgraced my body. When I woke up, my body showed signs that it had reacted to the defiling. Father, please, believe me when I tell you that I was coerced by evil."

Thunder was heard again, breaking the silence that had settled between you and the priest. As the minutes passed, you became uneasy; was the man disgusted with you? Could he sense the sins radiating from your being? He cleared his throat, breaking your train of thought. Your eyes went back to his silhouette, waiting for him to speak up.

"I fear this is beyond the power bestowed upon me, dear," his voice was silky, it made warmth spread inside your chest, as if the vibrations it had created affected your very cells.

Your eyes widened; that was impossible. You had confessed and explained the evil that had haunted you. You had done exactly what He told His followers to do, confessed and asked for forgiveness. You shuffled closer to the grille, tearing up as you begged, "Father, please, there must be a way. I will do anything; I will suffer just like our Saviour has if it's what it takes. I'm supplying you, help me get rid of this evil."

“Very well,” the man said. You watched as his silhouette stood up and opened the door of the booth before it disappeared. The door of your little chamber opened, and you turned your head to look at the tall priest, who adjusted his glasses as he stared down at you. You took a few seconds to really look at him. Despite his smile that made shivers run down your spine, the man was handsome. His skin was tan, his hair dark and styled in an old-fashioned way. His features were sharp, intimidating, almost. Towering over you, his shoulders were wider than some quarterbacks’, and his waist was ridiculously small compared to them. His hands seemed to be twice the size of yours, and you found yourself wondering how he managed to button up his shirts with such big hands.

You looked back at his face as you blushed, realizing the man before you knew of your body in such intimate ways. You slowly stood up as you held his gaze, unsure of what to say next. He took a step aside and gestured for you to step out of the confessional, before closing the door behind you. The priest smiled down at you, “Follow me, dear.”

He started walking down the aisle, the flames of the candles on each side of it dancing as he passed by. You hesitantly followed him, looking out one of the small windows to see the rain pouring onto the world as lightning illuminated the sky. He stopped at the altar and turned to you, his smile ever present. You stopped in front of the stage; sinners did not belong anywhere close to that sacred place. The man stayed silent and with a gesture of his hand, permitted you to step up. You gulped and got on the stage, feeling extremely out of place.

“There is one way for you to repent,” he began, his stare fixed on you, “Though it is a bit unorthodox. The choice is yours, but you must remember that there is no place for sinners in Heaven.” He watched as you nodded quickly; you were eager to be forgiven, to go back to being free of sin. The corner of his lips twitched before he uttered one word, “Strip.”

Your eyes widened as your face turned a deeper shade of crimson. Stripping? You searched his face for hints of dishonesty, hoping he was playing a sick joke on you, but to your dismay, he was serious. Your body was frozen as you looked at him, not even the booming thunder making you flinch.

You opened your mouth to ask why, but the man beat you to it, answering your question before you even uttered a word, “Only by showing Him precisely how this evil tainted you can you be absolved. There is no need to be shy, ma chérie; isn’t He all-knowing? All-seeing? Wasn’t the shame of nudity created by His first creations’ sin? There is no purer form of devotion than to go beyond the embarrassment and bare yourself to Him; than to accept the vulnerable nature of your existence.”

He brought his right hand up to lay it flat against the wooden altar, observing you as you fought an inner battle with your dignity. His words were true, the wisdom of a man devoted to God, of someone who knew scriptures and their meaning. As if feeling your unmoving incertitude, he spoke up once again, “Proverbs 28:13.”

You blinked up at him, mind searching for the verse you had read many times before. You licked your bottom lip with your tongue before reciting softly, “He who covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.” The priest hummed, and you raised your gaze to the crucifix hung on the wall behind the altar, feeling as if He was patiently waiting for you to submit to His will. You puffed out a small breath as you nodded to yourself, a hand coming up to the zipper of your coat, slowly bringing it down to then shrug off the piece of clothing and letting it fall on the floor.

You could already feel the wet cold seep through your thin sweater, but you ignored the feeling as you grabbed the bottom of it and lifted it up until it was completely off you; it dropped, finding its place next to your coat at your feet. Your eyes were unfocused, staring into thin air as you slipped your thumbs under the elastic band of your skirt, pushing it down so it pooled at your ankles. You stepped out of it, getting slightly closer to the priest whose gaze was burning your skin despite the goosebumps covering it. You brought a hand to your back, unclasping your bra before slowly taking it off, baring your breasts to the man. Your nipples hardened as the freezing air licked them and you bit hard down your bottom lip as you slid your underwear down your legs, then stepped out of your shoes, leaving you only wearing your lace-arbored anklets.

The man lifted a hand in your direction, a silent request for you to grab it. You did so all while avoiding looking up at him and followed him as he made his way behind the altar, his fingers squeezing yours slightly, “Our Lord blessed you with rare beauty, dear one, what a shame it led evil to you.” You gasped softly as his other hand wrapped around your waist, your eyes shooting up to look at him. He was still smiling, though his eyes seemed clouded with something you could not put your finger on.

He let go of your hand and grabbed the other side of your waist before effortlessly hoisting you up on the altar, the skin of your ass stinging from the cold of the wooden surface. Your gaze was questioning, and the man recited, his voice low and quieter than it had previously been, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” You gaped at him; a true man of God, that’s what he was. “Offer your body to Him, and you shall be absolved. Show Him what evil has done to you, so He can forgive and make you pure again,” he held your stare, his pupils slightly dilated. You nodded once, and the priest stepped aside, leaving you to face your Saviour in your naked glory.

You slowly leaned back, using your left elbow to not completely lie down on the wood. You brought your trembling right hand to your lips, the tip of your index finger stroking the pink flesh as you recalled where the lips of the faceless man had touched you. They lingered there for a few seconds before dipping to your neck, dancing around the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut; if goosebumps had not already been covering your body fault of the moist cold, they would have appeared, the feeling titillating. Your chest rose and fell in a timely rhythm as you dragged your touch to your breasts where your finger gently caressed your right nipple. Your lips parted, small breaths making their way out as you gathered with your small hand the heavy fat of your breast, squeezing. You could feel the stare of the priest on you, but you attempted to ignore it as you kept going.

Your fingers went down your stomach, using your nails to slightly scratch the skin, and they stopped a few inches below your belly button. You opened your eyes and looked at the crucifix; His peaceful expression, despite being nailed and in pain, gave you courage and you spread your legs, giving your Saviour the perfect view of your most intimate era. You nibbled on your bottom lip as you slowly brought your fingers down, choking on a soft moan when they made contact with your clit. The simple touch made your composure fall a little, your lips parted as your face reddened, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt before. You gently pushed against the bundle of nerves, gasping as your fingers started to move, following a small eight-pattern.

You could feel your heartbeat thundering against your ribcage, matching the loud striking of the heavenly fire against the earth beyond the safety of the church walls. Soft pants left your mouth as you started working on yourself, closing your eyes to focus on the memories of the previous night. Every touch and stroke were vividly drawn in your mind, your fingers moving in an almost instinctual way, leaving you a whimpering mess. You moved your elbow that was holding your weight, slowly leaning your back against the cold wood, before bringing the now free hand to your face, covering your mouth with it as your thighs trembled. Your body was thrumming, humming with new sensations, your mind as foggy as the early morning that had welcomed you when you had stepped out of your home.

Lost in pleasure, you jumped, your eyes shooting open as you felt long fingers wrap around your wrist, the priest looking down at you, his own eyes sharper and darker than they had been earlier. Your fingers nestled between your thighs stopped moving as you stared at him, but he tsked, “My dear, you must not hide anything from Him. These lovely, sinful sounds you make, are not to be repressed. Let them be; let Him hear what evil inflicted upon you,” his voice sent a chill down your spine, your back arching slightly. You watched as the corner of his lips twitched and let him pull your hand away from your mouth, gulping as you nodded weakly. “Good girl.”

Your breath hitched at the praise, eyes not leaving his’ as your fingers started to move once again, bringing your legs up to rest your heels against the altar, spreading your legs a bit more. As if in a trance, your gaze fixed on the priest as you moaned and gasped, your hips twitching as you rubbed your clit. You saw his Adam’s apple bob, his eyes narrowing as you used your free hand to caress the skin of your stomach, slowly inching towards your left breast. Your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, and with a bite on your bottom lip and a pinch of your nipple, you pushed your middle finger all the way to the second knuckle, your eyes widening at the feeling. You let out a throaty whine, pressing your head harder against the wooden surface that supported your weight. The cold was long forgotten, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, muscles spasming here and there.

You slid your other hand between your thighs, the digits quickly finding your clit and gently stimulating it as you managed to push your finger further inside yourself. The faceless man from your dreams had used three fingers, and you could only wonder how your dream self had taken them, as you were struggling with a lonely, short finger. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, you bit down your lip and pushed your index alongside the finger that was already pressed inside you. Your face scrunched up at the stretch, a silent sob echoing through the dimly lit space. You felt your walls clench around your digits, your free hand still working on your clit as a way to make the dull ache more bearable. You waited a minute, giving your body time to adjust to the feeling, before carefully pulling the fingers out and thrusting them back in, a surprised whimper leaving your lips as a new feeling started to blossom in your lower stomach.

You arched your back and started speeding up the motion of your hands, unable to keep quiet as your body grew warmer and more tense. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at the priest, who was as still as Christ watching you from His cross on the wall. As you exhaled, you pushed a third finger in, welcoming the stretch with a high-pitched whine. Your knees dropped down onto the altar, leaving your womanhood fully exposed; you watched as the man glanced at where your hands were working in tandem to replicate almost exactly what the evil from your dream had done to you. You gathered the little concentration you had left and started muttering through gasps and moans, “Compassionate Father, you are the Lord who rescues His people. When I am overwhelmed with shame, help me find solace in you. You have said that you will help—though my sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they shall be like wool. Remind me that I have been purified by you, that the curse of sin and evil is no longer upon me. In your powerful name, Ame-” You were cut off by a large hand wrapping around your lower face, the feeling making your body jolt.

Right, it had to be the same as the dream; you had not uttered a prayer in it, far from it. You closed your eyes, moaning against the palm covering your mouth, as you focused on the growing tension in your core. Every second felt like minutes and every minute felt like hours as you quickly thrust your fingers in and out, all while you rubbed and nudged your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable, your whole body twitching as your hips tried to follow the movements of your digits as if they had a mind of their own. The priest moved his hand away, and you opened your eyes to watch him bring it to his mouth where he licked his palm, which was covered with your drool.

Something snapped inside of you and a loud sob made its way out of your throat as your muscles tensed up, your walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you stilled them, your mind unable to think about anything beyond the blinding pleasure that took over your body. Your eyes rolled back, pitiful sounds leaving your mouth as your back arched from the altar, your thighs squeezing together, trapping your hands between them. This felt so much better than it had felt in your dream. You teared up; the Lord’s love was so strong; evil could not even compare.

After a few seconds, your body relaxed, and you were left panting and sweaty, as if you had just run a marathon. Slowly opening your eyes, your vision became clearer as you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at the crucifix, then up to the priest who had not moved. You removed your hands from between your thighs and brought your left one up to wipe the pearls of sweat on your forehead with the back of it. You wrapped your right arm around your chest, trying to hide your breasts as you spoke up, your voice small but hoarse, “Have I done it, Father? Am I free of sin? Has our Lord given me absolution?” Hope lingered; you had done what you were told to do, you had been good, and your Lord was good and forgiving, He had to have seen how faithful you were.

The man’s eyebrows raised before he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly, “My dear, this was only your confession. The truest and purest form of confession.” Your smile dropped. You looked at him as he made his way closer to the wall, where he stopped in front of the crucifix that had observed you as you worked on yourself. His chin tilted up as he looked at it, before his head slowly turned to look at you, “But confession is not enough for this type of sin, sadly; you must also be cleansed.”

You sat up, your brows furrowed, watching as the man stepped closer to you. He stood in front of you, his right hand coming to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. His touch was warm and inviting, but you still wondered what his words meant, so you asked, “Cleansed?”

His thumb stroked your skin as he hummed and brought his other hand up to your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it, “Yes, dearest, cleansed. Your body was defiled by evil, it must be purified. You’ve shown our Lord and Saviour how, and now He shall reclaim your body as His’.” You looked at him, your eyes round and big, trying to make sense of the words that had just been spoken. A small pout appeared on your lips, and the tall priest bent down, his face now closer to yours as he said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, “You are so easy to read, you know? But to ease your confusion; I shall represent our Lord and make you pure again.”

You froze, the realization of what the man meant hitting you just like David’s stone had hit Goliath. You gaped at him, your mouth opening and closing, searching your brain for the right words to speak, afraid to insult God and the man who stood before you. You gulped and said after taking in a deep breath, “Our Lord… I cannot think of mentions of this procedure in the scriptures,” you blinked, your eyes shining as you looked into his’. “Father, has this procedure been tested before? Where does it come from?”

His long fingers dug into the fat of your thigh as you saw the muscle of his jaw clench, a small whimper leaving your lips at the feeling. He kept squeezing, his creepy smile growing, “Are you implying my authority was not given to me by our Lord? That my will does not stem from His’? That I would go against scriptures, something I have devoted my life to?” You shook your head quickly; you had messed up. You were to never question the words of a priest, for he was much closer to God than you were, and you had done just that. This evil needed to leave; it made you do, think and say things that would only make you unworthy of Heaven.

“Father, do forgive me! This evil, it has taken control of my body and sou-”

“There’s no need for that. I shall make your sins a purest white than Abraham’s sacrificial lamb. You will be reborn a new woman, utterly sinless,” he inched his hand higher on your thigh, “That is what you want, isn’t it? To let your God make you pure again?” You gave him a slow nod and his smile widened as he brought his free hand to his face, removing his glasses and putting them on the altar next to you. He nudged your knees open and settled between them, sliding a hand against the back of your head as he sang praise to you, “What a good girl you are, ma chère.”

His lips smashed against yours and you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to follow his lead. The hand resting on your thigh slid to your waist and forced you to get closer to him, his chest pressing against your naked breasts. You moaned into the kiss, pictures of your dream flooding your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around his tiny waist and arms around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, letting the man run his tongue along your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly in response. His kisses travelled down your chin, to your throat, his teeth nipping at your skin as you let your head fall back, giving him better access.

His mouth slid to your chest, and you lowered your chin to look down at him as he wrapped his swollen lips around your left nipple. You grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him closer to you, arching your back slightly. His eye shot up to look at you, humming against your skin, the vibration leaving you a whimpering mess. He separated from your pink, wet bud with a last lick, smiling as he flicked your other nipple with his thumb, “So eager for absolution, aren’t you?” Your soft pants were interrupted with a small gulp as you nodded once again; there was nothing you wanted more. He ran a hand up and down your thigh before grabbing it and removing it from his waist, doing the same motion with the other one a few seconds later. You silently watched as he kneeled, his face a few inches away from your exposed core. The sight made your heart skip a beat.

Something caught your eyes on the wall, and you looked up, seeing a rainbow light up the crucifix hung on the wall; the rain and thunder had dissipated as suddenly as they had appeared, and sun rays were beaming through the colourful tainted glass of the rose window at the entrance of the church. A small smile tugged at your lips, this had to be a sign you were on the right path. You bit down your bottom lip and gazed down, seeing the priest eyeing your womanhood, a hungry look on his face. Your cheeks reddened as you waited for the man to do something.

He slowly inched closer, and let his nose nudge your puffy clit, causing you to gasp softly at the feeling. You felt something warm run up and down your slit, your grip on his hair tightening as he flattened his tongue against your entrance. Your brows knitted, a small noise leaving your lips as he started to move his wet appendage up and down, moving his head slightly as he did so to get his nose to bump against your clit with each lick. His hands went to your ass, and he brought you even closer to his face; you wondered how he could even breathe.

Your mind started to wander as pleasure slowly took over your limbs; was the man between your legs mistaking you for a wine-filled chalice? The slurping noises his mouth was making against you travelled through your body and rendered you dizzy. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and his eyes shot open to look up at you as his fingers dug into the fat of your ass. His pupils were dilated to the point that you could barely see his iris and there was wetness spreading on his cheeks and nose. Lips parted, you sighed and slightly scratched his scalp with your nails, leaving the man groaning as his stare was still fixed on your face. One of his hands made its way down your thigh and disappeared from your view before it reappeared; a dainty wooden-beaded rosary was dangling from his fingers.

The priest took his mouth away from you, a wide smirk painting his lips as he grabbed your wrist and dropped the prayer beads in your much smaller palm. His other hand came forward and started stroking the skin of your inner thigh as he wrapped his long digits around yours, forcing you to hold the rosary. He licked his bottom lip before speaking up, “You know how this works, don’t you?” His smile grew as he watched you nod, “Perfect. Recite them in your head, except the Five Decades; you must recite those aloud. It’s Thursday, so Luminous Mysteries. Whatever your Lord has planned next and does to you, you must keep going, understood?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Use your words, dearest.”

“I understand, Father,” you said, your voice small.

The man hummed and let go of your hand, dropping it to your other thigh, massaging the skin there as well. His gaze dropped to where your thumb moved to make the Sign of the Cross on the small crucifix pendant. You closed your eyes as you started reciting the Apostles’ Creed, surrendering your body to the faithful man kneeling before you. His lips pressed against you as you finished the first prayer, your finger moving to the first bead. He fell into a now familiar rhythm, leaving you incapable of staying silent as you breathed out soft moans. Something prodded at your entrance and slowly slipped in as you fell back against the altar with a thud. You arched your back as it kept going, much deeper than you had reached with your fingers. It pumped in and out a few times before the man added a second finger, the pressure and stretch making you whimper.

His tongue kept alternating between sucking on and flicking your clit as you busied yourself with prayers. The priest hummed against you before removing himself; you opened your eyes and lifted your head from the wooden surface, eyes widening when you saw blood on his chin and bottom lip. He removed his fingers from you and showed them to you; they were bloody too. You stared at him silently, uncertain of what to say, but he broke the silence, “See what the evil has left in you? Aren’t you so lucky your Lord is ever so forgiving? That he’s cleaning you up to make you free of sin?” You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. His eyes were gleaming as his fingers went to your lower stomach, smearing the blood on your skin, which made goosebumps appear.

You studied his face, his sharp, dark hooded eyes were staring at you under his defined eyebrows, his plump lips were stretched in a smile; his tanned cheeks and chin were coated with a sheening coat of your wetness and blood. His hair was now messy—your doing—and his fingers were slowly making their way back to your slit. Without thinking about it, you reached out and cupped his cheek with your free hand, rubbing your thumb against his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick your digit as his fingers sank back in you, knocking the breath out of you. Your eyes closed shut as you gasped, your hand falling from his face to rest on your hip. You heard him laugh under his breath before the warmth of his mouth was back on you. Your mind reminded you of the rosary you were holding, and you started reciting the Hail Mary.

As you neared the end of the Glory Be, you felt the man add another finger, the stretch making your eyes tear up as you mewled weakly. The words of the prayer passed in your mind, disappearing as he started to thrust them in and out. Your walls clenched tightly around his digits as your chest rose and fell quickly, panting as your body tried to get adjusted to the burning feeling.

Your fingers landed on the first Decade, and you gathered all your strength to start reciting the prayer, your voice shaky, “Then Jesus came to Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented.” You were interrupted by a yelp as you felt the priest’s teeth grazing your clit, your free hand landing in his hair, gripping it. Your hips kept twitching as you kept going, stuttering through the words, “And when Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and alighting on him; and lo, a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”

The drag of the man’s fingers had turned pleasurable, and you felt your muscles tense up, the feeling in your lower stomach rapidly growing. You pushed on the back of his head, searching for more friction, and you moaned out loudly when he started mumbling against your clit as his fingers kept moving, “Oh my Jesus, forgive me of my sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.” You could not register the words but the movements of his lips on you made you come undone, your back arching from the altar as your thighs trapped his head in place, your hips lifting to follow his fingers and urge him to press his tongue harder against you. Your every muscle tensed up, crying out as the waves of your orgasm hit you just like the Red Sea had crashed into the Egyptians as He closed its parting. You spasmed around him, your walls trying to push his fingers out, and you felt wetness drip down your ass.

He separated from your clit, kissing it softly as he removed his digits from you, slowly standing up as you cracked your eyes open, your body still jolting randomly as it calmed down from your high. The light coming from the rose window had moved, and from your angle, it looked like a halo surrounding the priest’s head; a breathtaking sight that had you gape in awe. You watched as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, taking his Roman collar off and letting it fall to his feet. Your wetness was dripping from his lips which were harbouring a soft smile, his hands moving unhurriedly to unbutton his cassock. His eyes travelled up and down your spent body, then to the rosary you had forgotten you were still holding; you clenched your fingers around it and moved to a new bead, your lips moving silently as you recited the Hail Mary in your mind.

You kept your eyes on his hands as they reached the last button, the man shrugging off the black piece of clothing, revealing he was wearing a white tank top and black pants underneath it. You gulped at the true size of his shoulders; you had thought his cassock gave the illusion he was large, but even with it off, he looked huge. The smallness of his waist only accentuated how massive the built of the priest was. He had muscles but they were lean; despite it all, he looked strong and exuded a masculine aura that had you squirming in place.

Your observations were interrupted by his voice, “Do you feel like the weight of your sin has lessened, ma chère?” You dipped your chin once; you did feel lighter. The man grinned wider as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso up effortlessly so you were now sitting. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over so his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, whispering, “You did so well, dear, you’re almost as pure as the day you were born. There’s only a step left in this procedure, but it will hurt at first.” He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed forward, forcing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You inhaled and felt his fingers massage your scalp gently.

He smelled so intoxicating; a mixture of moss, rain, coffee, tobacco and a hint of something floral emitted from his skin. You realized you had pressed your lips against the man’s neck when you felt him tense up, his hand stilling in your hair. You backed away slightly, blushing so brightly you were grateful he could not see your face, muttering an apology. His body relaxed again, and he hummed, “There’s no need for apologies. Bite down my shoulder—don’t be scared to bite hard—it will make you focus on something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but pressed your lips together when you heard a zipper, followed by the shuffling of clothes between your bodies. You brought your hands to his chest, the rosary still in your hand, fingers fidgeting with the beads as you felt one of his large and cold hands spread your thighs a little further apart. You felt his fingers run up and down your slit and you gasped at the feeling, your nails slightly digging into the muscles of his chest. A wet sound travelled up to your ears and you closed your eyes, a shiver running down your spine when you felt a hand drop to your hip, kneading the fat there, and his voice, now a low murmur, “Bite down.”

You barely had the time to process the words that you felt pressure against your entrance which ceded, your walls wrapping around something so thick you shrieked before sinking your teeth into the man’s shoulder. It felt like you were being split in half; the thickness slowly forced its way inside you as tears gathered at your lower lash lines before they dripped down your cheeks. You bit down harder and pulled away quickly when you felt iron-tasting warmth coat the inside of your mouth, but the hand still in your hair pushed you against the bleeding bite mark, the priest almost growling, “Bite, and drink. At this moment, I am God; I am Christ. His blood is mine, and my blood is His’. Savour, dear one, and let me cleanse you inside out.” You let out a shaky breath before sinking your teeth back in his flesh, your brows knitting as he pushed his length an inch deeper inside you, “So obedient.”

You let the blood fill your mouth and swallowed, cringing at the taste but unwilling to go against Heavenly orders. Your arms snaked around his waist as he kept slowly pushing himself into you. The pain was unbearable, but your mind went to Christ, and how much he had suffered for the sins of all; the ache between your legs was a pinch compared to what he had endured, so you toughened up and let your tongue lap at the blood. Your brain felt foggy, and you could only take it as a sign that it was your body reacting to being filled with the divine energy pouring out from the priest. His length reached deeper than his fingers had, and you wondered how much of it you had left to take in.

You soon had your answer, the man stilling as his pelvis pressed against yours; he was so deep in you, stretching you so wide. Your mouth detached from his neck, and you pressed your forehead against his skin, panting loudly as you tried your best to relax your walls around him. The hand that was in your hair made its way to your waist, squeezing gently as you felt his lips press against your ear once again, “Your Lord is so pleased with you; you’re taking his cock so well. You’ll be redeemed in no time.” He slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, before thrusting in you at a medium speed, leaving you sobbing against his neck. It was overwhelming, the feeling of his length rubbing your inside and the warmth spreading in your chest, God’s love making you burn up. The feeling started to transform from pain to pleasurable pressure, your pained cries turning into needy moans.

You had managed to reach the tenth Hail Mary in your mind, your fingers reaching the second Decade. You whimpered out the beginning of the Second Luminous Mystery, “On the third day there was a marriage at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; Jesus also was invited to the marriage, with his disciples.” The priest started moving faster, his hips meeting yours at a much quicker speed; you whined as his tip hit a certain spot inside you, the rosary dropping on the floor as you dug your nails into the man’s shoulder blades. You could not concentrate on anything other than the drag of his length against your walls, panting and gasping each time he bottomed out.

He slightly pulled away from your body and looked down at you, his hips still moving as he brought a hand to grab your jaw from under, forcing you to look at him. He eyed you before crashing his lips against yours, moaning as he tasted his blood in your mouth. You slid your hands up to his hair, tugging at it and scratching his scalp as your teeth clashed together, tongues dancing. You pressed your chest closer to his’ and sighed as your nipples rubbed against his tank top, the feeling sending electric shocks to your core. You parted away from his lips, catching your breath, and your eyes opened and landed on the crucifix watching you; you smiled softly—oh how good was His clemency. Your gaze went back to the priest who was slightly panting, his lower face covered in blood—just like yours— as he smirked at you, sliding his hand to your cheek, stroking the skin tenderly.

In half a second, he pulled out and manhandled you, so you were now bent over the altar, your breasts pressed against the wooden surface as your feet dangled in the air, his large hands holding you up. His knee nudged your legs open wider and you felt him slip back inside you, the new position bringing a different sensation. His hips met your ass, and he started thrusting into you eagerly, loud smacks echoing through the church. You held yourself up on your elbows, holding your head up as you looked at the front door; if someone were to walk in, they would see the priest cleansing you, a Godsent blessing.

Your elbows started to tremble, and the man noticed; he slid a hand below your stomach and hoisted you up against his chest, your back pressed against him. He held you up, his arms wrapped around you as his pelvis smacked against your ass, your feet dangling one foot above the floor. He slid a hand down, his fingers running down your slit, groaning as he felt where you two were connected. He ran them up again and pushed his middle finger against your puffy clit, gently rubbing it as he kept working himself in and out of you. Your head fell back on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin.

You truly never had felt anything like this; if you had been a fool, you’d have thought you were glowing from how fulfilled you felt. The familiar tension grew in your lower stomach, lewd noises leaving your mouth as the man dug the fingers of his other hand into your flesh, holding you closer to him as his movements became erratic. His groans and grunts were sending shivers down your back, only adding to the multitudes of sensations you were currently drowning in. As if he could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, he mumbled against your neck, “Let go, ma chérie. Let evil leave your body, let God replace it with goodness.”

Your breath hitched and with a few more nudges on your clit, the pressure building inside you snapped. Your vision went white as you came, the feeling different from your previous releases. Even through the waves of pleasure, you could feel something drip down your thighs and could hear squelches as the priest kept thrusting his length in you. Your mouth was open, silent cries leaving your throat as you clenched tightly around the man. You felt his lips move against your neck, but you were too lost in feelings to understand what he was saying.

Your tensed-up muscles slowly relaxed as the remains of your orgasm washed over your body. You whimpered as the man kept moving, your core feeling overstimulated by his length still burying itself inside your sensitive walls. He quickly pushed your front back against the altar, grabbing your hips as he moved both his hips and yours in sync, your nails digging into the wood as your ass smacked against him. His thrusts were harsh and fast, leaving you breathless; tears were streaming down your cheeks at the delightful ache.

His hips stilled, his length buried deep inside you, as he groaned lowly. You felt your inside be flooded with warmth, whining as you dropped your forehead against the wooden surface, the cold of it grounding you. You were panting, the warmth creating a pleasant pressure inside your core as the priest rubbed his thumbs over your Venus dimples. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds, before easing out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He once again manhandled you so you were now sitting facing him, holding your limp body up as he dragged a hand up your moist thigh, grinning, “See this wetness? It was the remains of evil leaving your body.” His hand reached your slit and he gathered a sticky white substance on his fingers, bringing his hand up close to your lips, “And this is goodness. Do remember, my dear, your sins are scarlet and they shall be as white as snow.”

You gaped at him; he truly was a man of God. He pushed his fingers past your lips, and you let him, wrapping them around his digits as your tongue licked at the goodness. The taste was bitter, but as your eyes met his’, all you could think about was how caring and selfless the man standing in front of you was. You had come to him, worrying about your purity, and he had completely cleansed you of sin and given you his own God-gifted goodness, not asking anything in return. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brushed your cheek with the back of his index, his smile not faltering, “What is this look you are giving me?”

You blinked a few times, your cheeks flushing as you realized you had been staring, “Father, I must thank you. My body and soul were barren, and you made them anew again. I do not know how I could ever repay you.” His eyes narrowed at your words, his hand reaching to grab his glasses before he put them on and ran a hand through his hair. It dropped to your thigh and drew shapes on there, his gaze not leaving yours.

“Alastor,” he said simply before stepping away from you and bending down to grab your clothes. Your expression turned to a confused one as you watched him slip your underwear up your legs, your skirt following. You let him dress you, his fingers skilfully clasping your bra behind your back before he motioned you to lift your arms so he could slip your shirt back on. Once dressed he let his hand lay on your thigh again, before he spoke up, “My name is Alastor. Call me by it and your debt is repaid.” He grabbed one of your hands and dropped the rosary in it before grabbing your waist and helping you down the altar, “Keep this, use it whenever you feel evil is near.”

You nodded up at him and smiled, your grin faltering for a second when you saw that the crucifix on the wall had detached and was now hanging upside down. Oddly, you thought nothing of it and you looked back at Alastor, your smile spreading wide, “Thank you, Fa—Alastor.” You squeezed the rosary between your fingers, watching as he bent down once again, but this time to grab his cassock and Roman collar. You stood silently as he buttoned it up and placed the white collar around his neck. He straightened the fabric with his hands, before meeting your eyes.

“You look quite a mess, dearest, you’d better go home and clean yourself.”

Your hand flew up to your face where dried blood was caked on your chin and around your mouth, and you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words; he did not look any better. Despite it, you nodded, shifting on your feet as you thanked him once again, “I cannot express how thankful I am, Alastor, truly. You, uh, you should probably get cleaned up too; people would probably wonder why there’s blood smeared on their priest’s face.” The man chuckled and nodded before bending down to grab your coat, handing it to you once he straightened up. You took it and quickly slipped it on, putting the rosary in one of the pockets.

You clasped your hands together and bit down your bottom lip as the man put a hand against your back and urged you to walk with him. You walked down the main aisle silently, stopping once you had reached the end of it. You turned to him and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it, “Go, now. Enjoy your newly found purity.” You smiled and dipped your chin once; he grinned back, “I will see you tomorrow, though I am hoping you will not walk back in here with that same pitiful expression you had earlier.”

You let out a small laugh as you gestured that you agreed before giving him one last glance and turning around, walking towards the door. You could feel his stare burn holes in your back but ignore the feeling, pushing against the door and stepping outside, the sunlight momentarily blinding you. You sighed loudly, looking around to make sure no one was close; the last thing you wanted was someone seeing you limp, your face bloody. You began to make your way back home, ignoring the way your thighs stuck together from your and Alastor’s bodily fluids. You thought about his words, and strangely, you found yourself disagreeing; you hoped the faceless man would come back. You had tasted true goodness, the powerful and unconditional love and mercy of God, and you wanted more of it.

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #priest alastor #reader insert #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #yueyan writes...

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pomefioredove · 2 days

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Hiii! I adore your writings especially the vill fics thank you for blessing us vil fans 😭🙏💕

Can you please write soulmate au with vil and the perks of being soulmate with him? Thank youuu

thank you so much, that's so sweet!!! and OHHH soulmate.... so good

summary: soulmates type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, lovesick vil forever

Vil Schoenheit had always deemed the existence of "soulmates" to be a thing confined in the lines of a poem.

Ever the rationalist, Vil hadn't even entertained the fantasy of meeting his "perfect match", if such a person even existed. His life was not that of a cheesy movie script he'd turn down.

Finding someone who could cope with his strict lifestyle would be a miracle in and of itself.

...And if you had asked Vil Schoenheit what his image of the perfect partner would be, he would say exactly that.

Someone beautiful, intelligent, responsible, with the dedication and discipline to keep up with him.

Spoken with a sardonic smile and honeyed words, Vil knew that his chances of actually finding someone to meet his standards, to keep up with him, were slim.

He couldn't have possibly imagined having to keep up with you, instead.

You were like a shooting star; swift and bright, moving faster than he could fathom, cutting through the dark parts of his life like a hot blade.

Something for him to wish on.

Beautiful.

Like nothing he could have ever imagined.

There was a radiance in everything you did, one that made your skin glow with or without products, a certain warmth that so contrasted the refined and elegant image he'd grown to associate with beauty.

Vil would eagerly tend to your every need. It was a dream just to touch you, to have the honor of pushing your hair out of your face.

He would savor every second of grazing your skin, of tracing your features with delicate fingertips, if only just to cleanse your pores after a long day.

With you, every simple action is beautiful.

Vil enjoys pampering people he cares for, and thus your life is full of high-end products, the best groceries money can buy, and his personal advice from the very second he sets eyes on you.

He would gladly do your personalized skincare routine with you every night and every morning if time allowed it.

2. Intelligent.

In such a way that makes him eager to understand you.

Really, it's your insatiable curiosity that draws him in.

He could spend hours upon hours simply listening to you talk. Your interests begin excite him just as much as they excite you, your passion for learning and creating capture his attention with ease.

There's never a dull moment between the two of you.

What others might consider useless conversations about trivial matters, Vil holds to the highest regard.

It comes to the point where he begins asking you for opinions, even if he knows he'll disagree with your answer, just to hear your perfect voice, just to watch your expression change in the way it does when you're thinking.

He's infatuated with your thought process, with the way your mind works.

Understanding you is not a labor, but a privilege.

3. Responsible.

To where all he could ask for is you and your gentle touch.

You care. Whether you're aware of it or not, you care so deeply about the people in your life, it almost puts Vil to shame.

Paired with your determination and resilience, and your ceaseless sense of independence, it's absolutely irresistible to him.

Vil is so unfamiliar with the way you treat him. Tenderly, and softly, like he's something that needs to be taken care of. You don't put him on a high shelf like a trophy, but carry him at your side, like a beloved doll.

He's never been at the receiving end of such consideration.

On the days where it feels as if the world is coming undone around him, he has somewhere to go. A place to hide, where he can forget all that he's supposed to be, and just simply be instead.

You are a home to him.

Vil knows that the both of you are perfectly capable (exemplary, even) at minding yourselves, though that's exactly what makes this tenderness you share all the better.

Independence is a gift, though one that he'll gladly set aside for a time, to be alone and soft with you.

4. Keeping Up.

Some days, it feels as if he's hanging onto you for dear life.

Afraid that if he looks away for even a moment, you'd vanish, leaving him alone with all of his naive, shallow thoughts on what his soulmate should be.

You're a dream to him. Far better than anything he ever could have asked for, or even imagined. He would be a fool to let you get away, he knows as much.

And perhaps he doesn't have the words to express it yet, perhaps he does. Perhaps these thoughts of his are tucked away in a journal, imbued in the lines of a poem, or in the color choices of a floral arrangement. Perhaps he whispers them to you in the early hours of the morning, still caught in that dreamlike space between sleep and wake.

One thing has become clear to him, though: Vil could never adequately describe all that he wants in a soulmate.

You're far too complex to put in a single sentence.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #queued

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pre11yyy · 3 days

Text

SUMMARY: You've been teasing Haechan way too much lately so he had to put an end to it (by fucking u so good)

A.N: this was originally a hard thoughts drabble but i just felt like writing more into it so hope u enjoyy... Also m in a very Haechan mood today so i might or might not spam u with his content sorry not sorry

Warnings: explicit content (mdni), mean!haechan, hard!dom!haechan, choking (with hands and cock), hard fucking, unprotected seggs, and more

You were standing in front of Heachan's door, ur hands playing with the hem of ur skirt as u wait for ur brother to show up so u could leave. U always kind of felt nervous around Heachan, u don't know if it's because he always eye-fucks u whenever u r around him, or because of his never ending teasing but u were sure that if u were to be in space alone with him something will 100% happen between both of u.

U can feel that he was only holding back because of his friendship with Mark and that makes u uneasy, so u've been playing with his nerves lately, wanting him to snap out and to give in for his dick i mean for his emotions but also his dick. You didn't know what has gotten into u yesterday but u sent him a picture with ur new red lengerie, waiting for him to see it before deleting it and sending a bunch of sorries wanting to see his face more than anything, but he didn't reply, only reading ur texts without an answer and u couldn't help but wonder if u crossed the line or if u read wrong into him. You weren't sure about coming here with Mark to get his jacket that he forgot in Heachan's house, embarrassed but also curious at the same time, eyes looking for him as he disappeared in his room, hearing his chatter with Mark about random stuff while leaving u standing in the hallaway, u were about to sit in the sofa when u heard their footsteps coming ur way and u stopped looking at Heachan who threw u a very intense look, his eyes hazy as they noticed u, drinking ur excuse of the dress that u fought with Mark over, the small piece barely covering ur ass, ur makeup heavier than usual and the only thing that Heachan wanted to do was to smear it and mess it up but he held himself or at least he tried before he saw the ghost of the red lace bra under ur dress, the same one u sent him yesterday, he cursed under his breath knowing exactly what u r trying to get from all this and he sure will give u that and more.

Mark wrapped his arm around ur shoulders "let's go" u pulled him away annoyed that he messed up ur hair but he returned it in immediately making u fight with him ur dress riding up as u squirm trying to get him away, Heachan watched the whole thing, his pants tightening as he saw the red thong pop in contrast with ur skin, flashing half of ur butt to him. He clenched his hands, his leg shaking impatiently and praying that u'd leave soon or else he'll bend u over in front of Mark. And as if his prayers were answered Mark let go of u earning couples of hits in his chest while laughing at ur tired form, he turned to Heachan "u coming dude?" he asked making the other frown confused "where?" his eyes falling back to u, not missing the small grin on ur face "y/n wants to get a tattoo, it's gonna probably take a long time i'll be so bored if i go with her alone" Heachan raised his eyebrows at u, u really giving it ur best ha! He nodded agreeing to join u and he almost regret that. U were laying on ur stomache the tattoo artist working on ur inner thigh, Heachan could see u through the empty space in the glass, he could see ur ass sticking out as the tattoo artist is inking in ur skin, not paying attention anymore to whatever shit Mark is saying, his mind wondering to later on, to when he'll have u and make u pay for all the teasing u did to him cause ofc he won't let it slide…

U were on ur way back, Heachan's the one driving insisting for both of u and Mark to spend some time in his house and Mark agreed even tho he wanted to drop u off before hands but Heachan refused, u were about to reach Heachan's house when Mark's phone started ringing, "ohh okaay i'll be there in 20 minutes, okayy dw" Mark sighed asking Heachan to drop him off right there "i have to go, they need more waiters tonight" Mark turned to where u r pretending to sleep knowing so well that he would force u to go home right away and u can't let that happen, not when u have this big of oppotunity "dude what am i gonna do? should i wake her up?" Heachan shooked his head "no need i'll take care of her dw" it took Mark a minute to nod his head not sure if he did a good job or not but trusting his friend nonetheless. The moment u heard the door click and the engine start again u opened ur eyes, sighing in relieve and laying there playing with ur phone, excitement filling ur whole body… U felt the car stopping before Heachan got off the car closing the door with too much force that it startled u, u got out of the car seeing Heachan's back facing u as he was opening the door to his house, u stepped in, tugging the end of ur skirt as u followed him inside and the next thing u know, u were pressed on the wall, Heachan's hand wrapped around ur neck making u gasp, his other hand on ur hips, breathing right into ur ears "u played with wrong person little doll" he whispered the hand on ur neck moving up to grip ur jaw making u moan from how rough he is, he chuckled looking at u amused "we didn't even start and u r moaning already?" he clicked his tongue moving ur face and forcing u to look at him, ur hazy eyes meeting up with own and u felt ur legs weaken at the way he was staring at u,

he burrowed his head on ur neck nibbling at ur jaw, his right leg forcing it's way between ur legs, urging u to sit on his thigh and he groaned as he felt ur wetness through his pants, his hand letting go from ur face and gropping ur breasts on top of ur dress, kneading them harshly loving the sound of ur moans and whimpers as u grind at his thigh "i bet u've been waiting for this to hapen right? to come here and for me to fuck u senseless" you whimpered in response, his knee raising slightly to press more on ur pussy making u scream his name, his eyes never leaving ur face, loving the way u look, mouth wide open, eyes rolling back, drooling at the pleasure u were feeling, your makeup a mess already, he groaned, his cock twitching at the sight, his hands leaving ur breast and traveling down to your ass, gripping it tightly and pulling ur body forward making u ride his thigh properly, his hands controlling ur every movement and not letting u stop even if u begged, he moved his face towards yours, his lips ghosting over yours, his hot breath fanning on your skin and you were so eager to kiss him, to taste his mouth that u've heard multiple times talking so dirty and sinful that it drove you crazy.

But he won't give in that easy, he moved away, his hand still controlling your hips and making you chase your orgasm, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he looked at the desperate mess he turned u into, your hands holding onto his shirt for dear life, your knuckles turning white, your eyes closed, your breathing uneven, your whole body trembling from the pleasure, your hips stuttering from overstimulation your thighs clenching around his knee. He chuckled "cum for me doll, cum for me like the desperate whore u are" you moaned in response, his voice and dirty talk sending u over the edge, the pleasure taking over ur whole body, a scream escaping your lips as you cum hard, your juices spilling out on his pants.

He let go of your body and you slumped down to the floor, a satisfied smile on ur face as you look at him through ur hazy vision, his hands fumbling with his belt and undoing his zipper, pulling out his cock and stroking it slowly, the precum spilling out of his slit, his eyes trained on your body, his tongue licking his bottom lip, he smirked and you knew that this won't end until he has his fill. "Strip"

You stood up on wobbly legs, the post orgasm high making your head spin but u still manage to strip out of ur clothes, standing naked in front of Heachan whose hungry eyes were scanning every inch of ur skin, his cock hard and ready, his hand stroking it as he looked at u. He groaned and walked towards you, his hand on the back of ur neck pushing u down until u were face to face with his cock, the tip touching ur lips leaving a trail of precum.

"Open your mouth little doll" despite his words he didn't give u a chance to do so shoving his cock inside your mouth, hitting the back of ur throat and making ur gag reflex kick in, he pushed his cock even deeper inside, making it hit ur throat as tears rolled down ur cheeks, you started coughing and trying to pull away but his hand didn't budge, not letting you escape, not until his whole cock was coated with ur saliva. You sucked him in and swallowed his cock whole, trying your best not to choke, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent moons on his skin.

He grunted, his hand fisting ur hair and forcing you to deep throat his cock, your jaw starting to hurt and you were close to passing out from the lack of air, Heachan groaned as he released his seed deep down your throat, you swallowed everything, his hands finally letting go of your hair and you fell on the floor this time gasping and trying to regain your breath. U were panting, drool and his cum drippin on ur chin, eyes teared up smeering ur mascrara and eyeliner, your body hot and sweaty and the only thing he wants to do is to make u beg for his mercy but he held himself back, pulling his cock back into his pants and adjusting them making u look at him confused "w-what are u doing?" you asked, the panic evident in your voice, scared that he'll leave u hanging. He raised his eyebrow at you and chuckled "what is it doll? did you think i'll let u go this easily?" his eyes darkening and the corner of his lips quirking up "what do u think? should i leave u now?" he asked the smirk evident on his lips as he saw how eargerly u were shaking ur head "use your words little doll" he teased and u blushed "please" u whimpered "please what? what do u want?" he teased, enjoying how flustered and nervous u are getting.

"I want you to fuck me" u whispered, eyes casted down, he lift ur chin forcing u to look at him , his other hand removing the strands of hair that got stuck on ur face "i don't know if u derserve it tbh" u pouted at him, making him laugh ur insides tightening delicously at the sound of it "so eager for me huh? u want me that bad? u want my cock so deep inside u?" u nodded eagerly and he smiled at ur desperation, his hand letting go of ur chin and wrapping around ur throat as he pulled you towards him, his other hand holding ur jaw forcing u to keep your eyes on him.

"I'll make sure to break u until all u can do is beg me to stop, until the only word left in ur mind is my name, until u forget every other name but mine" he whispered in ur ear, his grip tightening making u gasp and moan "is that what u want? tell me doll" you nodded, a silent "please" escaping ur lips and he smirked, satisfied with ur answer. He led u towards his room, pushing u onto the bed, his mouth finding its way to your neck, his teeth scraping ur skin and sucking on it harshly, leaving marks on the way. His tongue trailing a path from ur collarbones, to ur nipples, swirling his tongue around them before biting and sucking them harshly, making you moan loudly. "You're such a slut for me aren't you y/n? always teasing me, wanting my cock inside u" his hand reached down, two fingers plunging inside your pussy without warning, a loud moan leaving ur lips as his fingers curl inside u, his thumb pressing on ur clit, sending shivers down ur spine.

"Oh my god.. ahh" he chuckled, his mouth still leaving marks on ur skin while his fingers are moving inside u. "I love how wet u got for me baby, so wet and ready to take my cock" his thumb speed rubbing harshly against your clit making u squirm on his hold from the pleasure until u cum, your juices squirting and covering his fingers, incoherent words leaving ur mouth as u try to catch ur breath but he didn't let that happen his hand never stopping its movement, fingers thrusting in and out, curling and uncurling, making ur walls flutter around him, your whole body twitching as he overtimulated u while u were trying to pull him away from u, ur tears not stopping as u cried and begged him to stop, "Fuck… Heachan please… Please i can't anymore" u whimpered, tears rolling down ur cheeks as you kept cumming, his fingers never leaving, the pleasure was too much that u were about to pass out but he won't let u, his hands finally stopping, showing u his fingers that were coated with your juices before he licked them, enjoying the sweet taste of it.

"You're doing good doll, u taste so sweet" he cooed, his mouth leaving kisses and licks on ur face, his hands roaming around your body, making your breath hitch and ur skin tickle, his fingers finding its way to ur neck, wrapping around it and squeezing gently, your mouth forming a small o shape, his other hand holding your jaw, his mouth on top of yours, his tongue forcing its way inside and exploring ur mouth, u felt his fingers tightening its hold blocking the air making u dizzy the only thing u can hear is your own heartbeat, your eyes rolling back and closing, the pleasure making its way through ur body, your whole body going limp as he kisses the life out of you. He pulled away, his fingers letting go of ur neck and you gasped, trying to take in the air, Heachan kissed the side of ur neck before whispering in ur ears "are u ready baby?" he bit ur jaw "are u ready for my cock?" u nodded eagerly and he flipped you over, his fingers digging into ur hips, his cock entering inside u in one thrust making u cry out his name, the sudden pleasure overwhelming and making ur head spin, Heachan groaned at the way ur walls wrapped around him squeezing his cock so tight making his mind go blank and his self control slip, he moved, his hips moving in and out, his pace fast and rough, not caring whether it's hurting you or not, all he wanted was to have his way with you and mark you and make sure that you'll be thinking of him and him only.

"Shit… u feel so good y/n, so fucking tight" he cursed under his breath, his hands holding onto ur hips, his fingers bruising the soft skin as u were gone, ur mind so foggy only gasping and moaning as he pounded into u, his cock hitting deep, his hips slamming hard into your ass, a string of curses leaving his lips, the pleasure so great and overwhelming that his mind is clouded, all he can think about is you and his need to release, his need to cum deep inside and to make sure that u r full and dripping with his cum.

You were so close, u can feel it, you were about to cum,your whole body trembled as his fingers were digging harder into your skin holding you close and tight, u felt his thrusts getting sloppier and faster, his cock reaching the deepest spots, hitting your g spot over and over again, and when his hand reached around and pressed on your clit, it was over for you, you came with a scream, his name leaving your mouth as ur thighs were shaking, your eyes rolling back, ur whole body trembling, and Heachan wasn't done, he groaned, his movements slowing down as he filled you with his cum, his cock pulsating inside of you, his cum dripping down ur thighs as he pulled out. Heachan was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, his hands moving away from your hips watching intensly how his cum oozed out of you, a smug look on his face, proud that he marked you as his, your whole body aching, his hands were all over you, tracing every bruise and bite mark he made, his lips trailing kisses on your neck, a small smile on his face as he held you in his arms making u cling to him more before u felt something poking ur back and u widen ur eyes so tired "Heachan please no" u whined trying to get away from his hold but his grip was tight, not letting go as his lips curled up, his smile growing wider "just one more time y/n" and u were sure by the tone of his voice that he doesn't mean that at all.

#nct dream #nct #kpop smut #kpop #nct haechan #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck

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monster-disaster · 3 days

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Can you do a female demon x female reader? I need more lesbian monster content !!!!

demon!female x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: You meet an ex-classmate from college for an interview. She has other plans.

You can feel your professionalism slipping through your fingers with each passing second you spend in the female demon's presence.

The fragrance of her perfume fills your senses when Ada comes closer, sitting down on the armrest of the sofa. She leans against your side while gently holding your arm and caressing your skin with her freshly painted nails. The teasing touch sends shivers through your body.

"Your pictures don't give you enough justice," she says. "You are much prettier in real life."

Your voice gets stuck in your throat. "Oh?"

The woman hums, leaning closer. "I follow you on Instagram." Her plump lips ghost over the curve of your neck. "You are the sweetest in your colorful summer dresses."

"Thanks," you croak out, almost sounding like a question. Heat burns under your skin while your heart pounds in your chest.

"I hoped you would wear one of them today."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's fine," she chuckles, looking over your form shamelessly. You wear a white blouse with a dark blue skirt that reaches your knees and matches your high heels.

Standing up from the armrest, Ada moves in front of you. You feel cold without her firm body pressing against your side.

You watch her, mesmerized and breathless. "What are you doing?"

A slow grin pulls on her vivid red lips as she slips onto her knees. Your thighs clench at the sight of the woman.

Ironically, there is something ethereal about her. Perhaps it's the smoothness of her light pink skin or the gentle curls of her dark hair framing her horns, which are a few shades darker and gracefully trace the curve of her head. You can't be sure since there is so much you can admire about her. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes follow the straight slope of her nose and the firm curve of her full lips.

"Something I wanted to do since we met in college."

You can feel the warmth of her palms even through the thin fabric of your skirt as she rests them on your knees. Your muscles tense for a second when the beautiful demon pushes them apart while your mind struggles with keeping up with the woman. Her hands trail up on your legs, pushing your clothes up with the slow but confident motion.

Ada looks up at you with amusement in her eyes. "Did you know I liked you back then?"

You shake your head. You had no idea. The demon wasn't a mean girl by any means, but she was always... unreachable. Sometimes, you weren't even sure if she knew about your existence even though you spoke several times.

"I'm surprised," she chuckles.

By now, your thighs are bare under her caressing hands. Her thumbs move between your legs in slow circles, getting closer and closer to your panty-clad pussy.

"Why?" You ask. You sank deeper into the sofa without your noticing. You melt under her touch.

"All my friends knew about my crush on you."

You want to slap yourself across the face when the only reply you can force out of your mouth is an 'oh' and Ada laughs again, slipping her long, manicured finger under the damp fabric of your panties to pull it away.

"It's fine, though," she says. "I mean, this is my chance to make up for the lost time."

Your mind is blank as you try and fail to process everything. Your whole body is on edge with anticipation. There is a heavy knot in your belly, keeping you on the sofa, compliant and easy under Ada's attention.

"And it's definitely worth the wait," she grins, letting the tip of her thumb brush over your clit for a second. Just enough to take your breath away and send shivers down your spine.

"Really?" You gasp out, holding onto the leather of the sofa. Your nails dig into it, and you only hope you don't damage the fabric.

She hums, leaning closer. Her shoulders spread your legs apart even more.

When you woke up and got ready to do an interview with your old classmate about her successful company, you didn't think you would end up like this. Half-naked and wet in her office while she feasts on the sight of you.

"So pretty," she says, letting her finger slide over your wet slit once again, parting your lips in the process to get a better view of your soft, glistening center. "And smells so good."

Your mouth opens to say something, but before you can form words, the demon grabs the flesh of your thighs to tug you to the edge of the seat.

"Hold them for me," she says, holding up your legs until you reach behind your knees to do as she says.

Heat and embarrassment flood your whole body in the new, vulnerable position.

"Good," she hums, reaching under you with one hand to grope your bottom while her other hand keeps your panties out of the way.

You watch Ada transfixed as she leans down and licks your pussy with one long swipe. Her eyes are on you the whole time, staring at your unfocused eyes, open lips, and heaving chest. The demon's mouth moves up to your clit, flicking it with her tongue before sucking the sensitive bud into her mouth. Her cheeks hollow, and your back arches. Your legs almost slip out of your hold as your toes curl with pleasure.

"Ada." Her name escapes your lips as a moan, and she hums, satisfied.

"You taste so good, Y/N," she says. Her lips and chin shine because of your wetness. "I imagined being between your legs so many times since you called to get an appointment with me."

"Really?" You gasp out, her thumb works on your clit, not giving you any break even while she talks.

You called her because of the interview a week ago.

"Really," she replies. "I was so angry when I couldn't find a date sooner to meet you."

"It's fine," you gasp. Your hips grind up against her hand. Her fingers are soaked with your juices by now.

The female chuckles. "It is now."

She winks at you before lowering her face down back to your pussy, opening your lips to feast and slurp on you. Her finger doesn't stop on your clit while your climax builds inside you with each passing second.

"I'm almost there," you groan, closing your eyes.

Ada hums. The vibration of her reply rolls through your body in thick weaves. You moan and gush around her tongue that slipped inside your aching hole while you were busy chasing your pleasure under her caress.

Ada's tongue fucks your pussy while teasing your clit and making you see stars under your closed eyelids. Your orgasm ripples and trembles through you while your muscles jerk and twitch, and your nails dig into your own skin at the curve of your knees.

For long seconds, the world stops existing while you sag into the sofa, and the woman still between your legs cleans you up with long swipes. Every touch and lick of her tongue on your sensitive flesh makes you twitch and shake.

When you lift your head to look at her, she grins at you hungrily. "We can start the interview now."

- Masterlist Sweet Asks Patreon

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster smut #terat0philliac #exophelia #sweet asks #demon x reader #demon girlfriend #monster girlfriend #demon x human #demon smut

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pagannatural · 2 days

Text

2.14 Born Under a Bad Sign

-Meg possesses Sam which forces the brothers’ dynamic to develop. Dean really reclaims a sense of himself this episode after spending all season in various degrees and types of turmoil over what to do about Sam. I don’t think he ever really considered killing Sam, but he agonized over his role and what he should do. He lied to a drunk Sam in Playthings and said he would kill him.

- Dean has called Ellen multiple times about Sam going missing, so much so that Dean doesn’t even refer to him by name on the phone, he just calls asking Where is he. Dean says “I’m losing my mind here.” He’s desperate to find Sam. I wonder if Dean ever lost Sam when he was a baby, like at the store or something.

- Dean also says it’s like when John went missing all over again. Dean sought out Sam for help and comfort when that happened. It’s a little kernel of insight into Dean’s state of mind when he broke into Sam’s house in s1, he was probably a lot more afraid than he let on to Sam because he was trying to keep it together.

-when he gets to the motel room Dean kneels in front of Sam, who’s sitting on the bed. He’s off to the side rather than right in between Sam’s legs but when he zeroes in on the blood on Sam’s shirt, on his lower stomach, he starts moving aside Sam’s jacket and touching the bloody fabric. It looks very intimate. Dean reaches directly into Sam’s personal space and even moves his clothes aside to check for injury.

This quick shot of his fingers feeling Sam’s stomach is particularly intimate. Meg!Sam says that he doesn’t think it’s his blood. Dean certainly thought it was Sam’s blood, he wouldn’t have been considering other options at that moment. So Dean is touching Sam’s wound on his lower belly, as far as he and the viewer know. It’s a sexual and feminine image. Although he’s not actually injured, Sam’s body has been invaded and controlled by a demon. It’s a sexual assault parallel, a first taste of Sam’s fall from grace. Throughout the episode, Dean fights for him and refuses to harm him. As long as Sam is still in there somewhere, Dean will protect him.

-Meg is inside of Sam’s brain and body and she has a pretty good understanding of Sam. She’s acting the way she thinks he would and also in whatever way plays to her advantage with Dean, so she has a primary interest in the nature of their relationship. She knows about Dean’s promise to John and to Sam about killing him, so she must have some access to his memories. She plays up Sam’s pleading eyes more than anything, which means she knows Sam’s memories that this has worked on Dean in the past.

- Dean reacts with deep skepticism to the gas station clerk telling him that Sam was drinking, smoking, and behaving violently.

Dean has also picked up on a couple of other specifics that aren’t like Sam: the name he gave at the motel is the name of a Bon Jovi band member, which Dean doesn’t think Sam likes and isn’t one of the names they would recognize for each other; and if Sam did smoke, Dean seems convinced he wouldn’t smoke menthols. He knows Sam so well.

- Dean says that smoking and throwing bottles at people sounds “more like me than you” which tells us that Dean is sometimes an angry drunk and sometimes a smoker, both of which make perfect sense for his character. There’s a lot we don’t directly see on the show.

-Sam moves differently, seems more feminine, and when Dean continues to insist he might not be a murderer he looks annoyed and almost rolls his eyes. Jared Padalecki is so good at being Sam possessed by Meg.

-Meg is basically begging Dean to feel horror that Sam killed someone- a hunter! with a family! caught on camera!- but Dean is like Ah fuck okay I’ll just run through the crime scene cleanup checklist quick and then we can take a nap together at home before we go okay babe? Babe u okay?

- Meg!Sam asks Dean to kill him, kinda using the puppy dog eyes but not quite selling it because it’s not needy enough, and Dean says “I’ve tried so hard to keep you safe…I can’t. I’d rather die.”

This is Dean admitting outright that his promise was bullshit and that he will either save Sam or die trying, and he’s faced so many trials to be completely sure and ready to say it. It doesn’t matter what Sam does. Dean had to understand more consciously his feelings for Sam before he could commit to this because it’s a fundamental part of who he is and his love for Sam. He feels guilty about his love, but he can’t doubt the strength of it and I think this is where he first accepts his role as Sam’s savior. The way he looks at Sam here is with such open love and desire. He’s like Wesley looking at Buttercup.

-Dean calls the phone company to get Sam’s location by pretending Sam is his son. He says “my son” and calls him Sammy and fuck if it isn’t the cutest. Dean is Sam’s dad now. Succession.

-Meg!Sam is so irritated that Jo is carrying a torch for Dean. She seems to be using Sam’s real memories and feelings to get what she wants, and in this case I think Sam is probably annoyed by Jo’s crush and wishes she understood she doesn’t have a chance with Dean, so Meg is using her weaknesses. She really enjoys using Sam’s characteristics and twisting them. For example, after tying Jo up she uses the puppy dog face again and says “c’mon it’s me, you can tell me anything” which echos Sam’s role as sympathetic ear to the victims and other characters. So when she talks about Jo wanting Dean and Dean not wanting Jo and then attacks her in a very sexually charged way, it feels like she’s playing with both their desire for Dean and Sam’s desire to be more like him. She seems to be telling the truth in these scenes, just truths that Jo wouldn’t want to know. So telling her You want him but he doesn’t want you and aren’t I the next best, when Sam in reality does not want Jo, makes Jo into a proxy to act out unrequited love for (and from) Dean.

-Meg!Sam shoots Dean and he falls into the water from the dock and Jo finds him soaked and bleeding and you have three guesses as to the first words out of his mouth (“where’s Sam?”).

-Bobby asks where Dean is so Meg!Sam tells him Dean’s with a girl somewhere. Bobby asks if she’s pretty and Meg’s eyes go black and she says “if you ask me he’s in way over his head.” The visual cue and emphasis make it clear Meg is talking as herself here, not as Sam, and it seems like she’s talking about Dean’s situation with Sam. It’s also a pun because she thinks he’s underwater, but regardless she’s connecting Dean being with some girl and Dean being in trouble because of Sam.

-she also smirks at Dean pretty wickedly and tells him “you wouldn’t wanna bruise this fine packaging” ie Sam’s body that she knows Dean thinks is mighty fine. What I wouldn’t give for her to taunt him more in this way.

- she tells Dean he’s worthless, he can’t save Sam, and the people he loves would be better off without him. Which means his worst beliefs about himself (as far as Sam knows) are that he isn’t good enough and that he’s actually bad for Sam. Why? Why would Sam know that Dean fears he would be better off without him? He’s protected and cared for Sam his whole life, both Sam and John have explicitly told him that they’re grateful, and even Dean can’t blame himself for the way he and Sam grew up. It’s possible this is about the fact that Sam is in danger hunting with Dean, but he would’ve been in danger in law school too. It fits better with Dean’s guilt over his feelings for Sam and his knowledge that Sam is in love with him. Sam knows that Dean blames himself.

-Dean refuses to hurt Sam when Meg!Sam is punching him, and she punches him four or five times. Then when Sam is back unpossessed, Dean punches him in the face. When it was about saving Sam Dean refused to hurt him, but now that Sam is safe it’s like his anger at Sam comes pouring out. He needed some form of resolution for the fact that his little brother scared the shit out of him for a week straight going missing, murdered someone and didn’t even help clean up the crime scene, pistol whipped him, shot him in the shoulder, punched him, named his worst fears, threatened to bite his own tongue off, and pressed his finger into his wound and laughed. Obviously Sam did none of those things and it was all Meg, but I think it’s completely understandable that Dean reacted this way after not only keeping his shit together for Sam all that time but also actively protecting him. It’s a reasonable trauma response for him to have fought back. I’m not saying it’s ethical or anything just that it’s exactly what Dean would do and it gives his episode arc some catharsis.

-for his part, Sam isn’t upset with Dean for punching him. He never is. As evidenced by Sam’s little smirk when Dean makes joke about Bobby’s charms for keeping the demon from “getting back up in there.”

-Dean checks in with Sam in the sweetest way, gently prompting him to answer if he’s okay. Sam explains that what’s troubling him isn’t the memory of his own hands killing a man, it’s the knowledge that even then Dean wouldn’t kill him. They both know for sure now.

-Dean teases Sam about having a girl inside him and Sam grins. It’s just one of many references to Sam having someone inside him and otherwise sexually being referred to as the girl.

-Dean’s “if it’s the last thing I do I’m gonna save you” hits different when you’re on tumblr and you know the show ends 13 seasons later with Dean dying and Sam living out some kind of a life.

#supernatural #wincest #samdean #spn meta #sam and dean #spn 2x14 #born under a bad sign

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queenshelby · 2 days

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part 37: Movie

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

During dinner, you brought up your last-minute plans to go away with Cillian for a few days, for a change of scenery and to escape the confines of your family home, which was an idea that neither of your parents appreciated very much.

"You have therapy sessions and your treatment, you can't just leave," your mother protested, but you were insistent.

"I know mum, but I think this little break will do us good," you argued while Cillian reached under the table and placed a comforting hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I agree. I think a trip away might actually be helpful in Y/N's recovery," Cillian cajoled with an easy smile on his face.

"I suppose you are right," she admitted, offering a soft smile but your father shook his head, his eyes narrowed.

"No, it is not a good idea," he insisted. "You need to focus on your therapy sessions and your treatment! You have only been out of the hospital for a short time."

You rolled your eyes. "That's exactly why I want to go away. The constant appointments and therapist visits are driving me insane."

The room fell silent as your father looked back and forth between the two of you. Finally, he let out a deep sigh.

"Well, I don't like it, but I guess there's not much I can do to stop you. You are an adult now," he said reluctantly, shaking his head. "But no monkey business, alright?" your father said sternly, locking eyes with Cillian, which was a gesture that caused you to let out a giggle.

"Dad, please," you chuckled but your father looked ahead sternly, his expression serious.

"Alright, alright," you thus conceded with a smile. "No monkey business, I promise dad," you said, assuring him before turning to Cillian to work out the details of your trip together.

"Where would you like to go?" Cillian asked once again, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't wait to get away from everything with you.

"I don't care," you replied, your tone equally enthusiastic. "As long as we are together, I don't really mind where we go."

"What about the countryside? Or maybe a beach house somewhere?" Cillian suggested, thinking out loud. He seemed to be in deep thought as he ran through different ideas in his head, trying to pick the perfect place for you two to go.

"How about that bed and breakfast by the lake we used to go to when you were little? It's only a two-hour drive from here," your mother suggested, causing your father to shake his head once again.

"They only have small rooms. Y/N needs space and she needs her own bed," your father said, interrupting your mother.

You could feel the tension between your parents rising as they bickered back and forth, each of them trying to assert their opinion on where you should go.

Cillian, sensing the growing disagreement, decided to interject before things escalated any further. "What if we rent a house near Edinburgh? We can find something with plenty of space and privacy. That way, Y/N can have her own room and I will be nearby if she needs help," Cillian suggested, knowing how much you enjoyed that region.

Your father thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Now that's an idea that I can get on board with," he said, offering Cillian a small smile, while you narrowed your eyes slightly, wondering whether Cillian really wanted to stay in separate bedrooms while you were away.

***

After dinner, you went to your room with Cillian, telling your parents that you wanted some privacy with him to watch a movie in bed and, whilst your father did not like the idea of you spending time with Cillian on your own, he reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"Do you seriusly want to sleep in seperate bedrooms while we are away?" you asked right after you rolled on to your small bed with Cillian's help while he pulled out his phone, looking for a holiday rental for you.

"God no," Cillian laughed, not bothering to look up from the app on his phone. "I just wanted to put an end to the conversation and make sure that there were no objections from your father."

You chuckled, rolling to your side to face Cillian as he placed his phone down on your bedside table.

He glanced at you and smiled before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can't wait to share a bed with you again, actually," he told you , his voice heavy with desire.

You blushed at his words, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. "I can't wait either," you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours just as he leaned in to kiss you.

Laying face to face, on your small single bed, your lips met in a passionate kiss as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer.

You could feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting about everything else except for him and the delicious sensations he was making you feel as, suddenly, your father barged in to the room without knocking, catching you mid kiss.

"I thought you were watching a movie," he said gruffly, causing both you and Cillian to jump apart abruptly.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath as you tried to straighten your clothes and catch your breath. "And I thought we agreed on knocking before coming into my room," you said, trying your best to sound casual.

Cillian's face was as red as a tomato, but he quickly regained his composure and gave your father a polite smile. "We were about to," he replied, trying to hide his embarrassment.

You, on the other hand, could feel your cheeks flaming as you looked up at your father, who was still standing like a statue at the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I can tell," he replied dryly. "Look, I know I said that you could have some privacy together, but there are rules in my house that I expect to be followed young lady," your father said, his voice firm. "No shenanigans under my roof ." Your father's gaze shifted from you to Cillian. "Do I make myself clear?" he asked and Cillian nodded, his face still red, as you both tried hard not to laugh.

There was something almost comical about this entire situation, seeing that your father and Cillian were almost the same age, and yet your father was still acting as if Cillian was a young boy. But, then again, you supposed that was just the price to pay for pursuing a relationship with a man who was old enough to be your father. It was an awkward situation and, luckily for you, Cillian took everything in stride and gave your father a lop-sided smile.

After your father finally left the room, you were able to relax again and, as if nothing had happened, continued to kiss before, eventually, turning on a movie.

Neither of you paid much attention to the movie however, as you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. It was as if you were both addicted to the feeling of being around one another and, no matter how much you had, it was never enough.

Just as you were about to undo Cillian's belt, however, there was a knock on the door, startling you both.

"Come in," you called out, and, unsurprisingly, it was your father checking up on you again.

Cillian, seeming to be getting annoyed by his presence, quickly sat up straight and fixed his clothes while you paused the TV and took a deep breath.

"What is it now?" you asked, unable to hide your irritation as your father entered the room, looking around suspiciously as if he could catch you in the act of something scandalous.

"Just bringing you some popcorn," he then said, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

"So, what happened to the rule of no food in the bedrooms?" you chuckled, accepting the bowl of popcorn from your father who shrugged his shoulders before leaving your room again.

"Just this once," he instructed before closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Cillian who let out a sigh of relief.

As soon as your father had stepped out of your room, you returned to the task at hand of undoing Cillian's belt who, immediately, stopped you in your tracks.

"We should wait until your parents are asleep," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "Because the last thing I want is for your father to catch me with my pants down," he added with a chuckle.

"True that," you said before asking whether he would be sneaking into your room later.

Cillian nodded in response and leaned in to give you a quick kiss. "If this is what you want," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

You nodded eagerly, whispering back that it was and, with a conspiratorial wink, Cillian promised to come by your room as soon as he was sure that your parents were fast asleep before you both finished with the movie.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction

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gglitch1dd · 2 days

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Submitted by @lemon-qu33n : Hi sorry to bother u i was just wondering if u had any fic recommendations. Ive read most of yours and i love them! I was just wondering what some of your favorite fics are?

Hey lovey!! You're not bothering me at all. TBH, I swear people maybe its you, have been asking me.

The reason why I haven't been answering is mostly because I really don't have many fic recs OR many favourites. There aren't a lot of writers that cater to my breeding kink or they aren't for the pairings that I like. I did have a few small favourites but most of them are discontinued and a lot of the bigger finished ones, sometimes I don't finish them.

I don't finish them either because the second hand embarrassment gets too big in one scene so I put it down, but I've got a few.

My number one recommendation is the most twisted story I have ever read and I love it so much. It isn't finished but the writing is exquisite and I one day wish to write a yandere/dark fic just like this. Its so disturbing and literally fear inducing, you literally feel like the reader. I love it. Hope it gets finished soon. I'm not a big fan of Katsuki but this one was delicious.

Love of a Hero by TrashPotatoes

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

being a new villain was horrible. Your team left you, and Pro hero Dynamight is hot on your trail. The only questions echoing in your mind are: What does he want? How long does he plan to keep you? And how long do you have before you break completely to his will?

2. This one was amazingly written as well. Kudos to the author!! It's a one-shot though, but honestly, it was a stroke of genius and hopefully it gets a second part to it.

What Once was Mine by Mindninjax

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader x Kirishima Eijiro

Invaders from outer space seek to take over all humans. What happens when you come face to face with the man you love after his assimilation? What happens when he finds out you've been hiding out from the invaders with his best friend who's madly in love with you? And what happens when you realize you may just have feelings for both of them?

3. This one is just pure smut heaven. Indulges the fact that Eijiro is the most HUNG person in the entire of Class A and I love it.

Bad dragon by Makoodles

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader (later chapters include Bakugou Katsuki)

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated. The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

4. This one was just really cute. I loved it. It was so sweet. fluffy and sweet.

Paws for Panic by Hero234

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

When chaos strikes and quirks collide, one innocent collision turns pro hero Red Riot into an adorable red puppy! Little does (Y/n) know, that the newly turned pup is none other than her favorite hero, and he understands more than he lets on. Unaware of the puppy's true identity, (Y/n) spends the day pampering her fluffy victim.

5. Fans of Viking Kirishima will love this one. It was amazing and honestly touched my heart in all the right ways, sweet fluffy smut.

Consummation by tothestars00

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

You and Kirishima have an arranged marriage, however, it is not a loveless one. Now it is the night after the ceremony. And we all know what happens on your wedding night.

6. Another self indulgent on my man Kirishima and why he's every woman's best dream. INTENSE SMUT THO.

XXL by seraphiq

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

A giant dragon hybrid walks into your adult toy store looking for some help with a problem. A HUGE one.

But those are just like half of my few. Remember I write because sometimes I don't find what I want to read. But people write amazing things!! Pros to these writers!!<3

#submission #glitch recommendation #glitch1d questions #mha fic #mha fic recs

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scenetocause · 2 days

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⭐star⭐

ah thank you anon!!! i'm gonna do climb up to your lips because altho i already did the logan ask i have an embarrassing number of thoughts and feelings about. my own fic. good god. but specifically about girloscar and i've been really fighting the urge to write a bit from her perspective because it's unnecessary authorial indulgence but also whatever, doing it for free aren't i.

Oscar's going to fucking die. They can't seriously be making them play Twister, this is like some sort of torture. The team shouldn't be torturing them, they're meant to be driving F1 cars soon. If she DNFs this weekend it's absolutely on marketing.

She says it to Mark, who tells her it's just a bit of fun, mate. Don't worry, he's probably shit at it. Which tells her Mark doesn't know anything about Lando Norris because the guy can contort into a shapes Oscar's never seen before but now very much haunt her dreams even when he's just meant to be sitting in a press conference chair.

It's not fair, being given a hot teammate. She could've had someone weird and awkward like Esteban but the need for a seat, to secure her future, was too strong to worry about the other side of the McLaren garage until she was there and it was suddenly her problem.

Lando's really nice, too. Helps her out, isn't anything like as annoying as she'd expected him to be. He's taken to spending meal times with her and giving her bits of his food and things, probably because he's a fussy little bitch but Oscar still appreciates it. The company, the way he doesn't seem scared of her being a girl, the sort of sad illusion he could be her boyfriend or whatever.

Logan says it's just teammate stuff, that him and Alex do that kind of thing, too. But Oscar's pretty sure Logan's never had Alex bring him a hot chocolate and a brownie just because it was a bit chilly in the sim room that morning. She doubts Logan is having to play Twister with him, either because Williams is a humane team with sane people doing their PR.

Sweating her way through a game of who can look the stupidest between her and the world's hottest, bendiest man has got to be some circle of hell. At one point she somehow ends up having to stick her arse practically in his face and she wishes she'd worn jeans, even if that might make it even worse, just in case he can see her whole bush up the leg or something.

When she admits she's in a world of trouble it's not just because she has no idea where her left foot can go now. Trying not to look Lando in the face is fruitless because he's giggling and keeps wriggling around, getting her attention so she'll laugh with him. Maybe it's awkward for him, too, having some girl he'd rather not touch having to climb all over him.

She knows she doesn't have a chance with him, that he's just being friendly. Lando dates models, influencers, whatever. Pretty, little girls with long hair who tell him he's big and strong or something, not someone taller than him. She can compete with him, not instagram hotties.

It's fine. Oscar could probably get her own instagram hottie if she liked. Or some guy who worked in finance, could look after her future. Handle all that shit, probably be nice enough to her. Mark was suggesting it the other week, that that'd be a good way to plan things out and Oscar's practical enough to know it makes sense.

It's just that she's being really stupid about being in love with Lando Norris. And guys in pinstripe suits make her pussy dry up.

Wanting things comes naturally to a racing driver. And usually there's a set way of getting them: be good enough, win. It's just that she's not going to magically become half a foot shorter, skinny and with a lingerie deal any time soon, so that's not an option.

"You're not putting your foot between my legs." Lando's blushing, mouth wet and panicky-open, like he's going to make one of those screeching noises she shouldn't find cute.

Conceding is the only option. Because Lando's not just laughing, his voice is a croak and he looks - obviously, he's not but - like he's turned on. Like Oscar could push him back onto the mat and kiss him and he'd wriggle and moan just as much as he is now. Like he'd want her to touch him and she knows he doesn't, would probably freak out if he knew the way she thinks about him.

(face down in a pillow, getting fucked raw, that flush high on his skin while he's making all his weird, whining noises and begging to come, still begging for her to hold him afterwards so she can stroke his sweaty curls - it's started invading her thoughts at the worst times, like right now)

Limbo is even worse. She's shit at it and he could probably get under something an inch off the ground. It's awful, Prema challenges were never like this; she might not know how to cook eggs but at least Rob didn't, either.

Lando's clearly insane because he's won both the first rounds, has got this challenge in the bag, except he makes the third one all or nothing. By this point, Oscar had figured it'd probably be slime wrestling or something equally awful but instead they get to sit down and play jenga like relatively normal people.

He absolutely lets her win. Which is shit, as she explains to Logan later.

"I think he just wanted to get away, y'know? Like, obviously he doesn't want to spend time with me, that's fine."

Logan raises his eyebrows, fringe standing on end where he's been running his hand through it. "Didn't you just say he followed you to your driver room and talked about Halo for twenty minutes?"

"Well, yeah but I think he was just hiding from Sophie." And they'd had hats to sign, so it sort of made sense to do it together.

Logan sits back, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his arms. "You know how many times Alex has been in my room?"

The fuck would she know that. "No?"

"Zero. Nada. Zilch." Logan looks smug, for some reason. "I've never been in his, either."

"So?" Clearly Williams have different rules. It's not like they're in Logan's room now, sitting out on the patio in front of the motorhome nursing sparkling waters.

"I am just saying," Logan's grinning, like he knows she isn't going to listen to him and thinks it's hilarious. "That doesn't sound like a guy who doesn't want to spend time with you."

#emptyhalf fic

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redwlf843 · 2 days

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Me or the ps3

Abby Anderson x fem reader

Summary: you have a day off and want to spend it with your girlfriend, only issue is she won’t put down that damn game

Warnings: smut, arguments, threatening to leave, cursing, fingering, cunnilingus, strap on mention.

You never minded when Abby would come home from work and play a video game to decompress, that would make you a hypocrite because you did the exact same thing. You didn’t care that Abby played video games,hell the reason you two met was because of a video game. But what you did mind was when a video game saw more of your girlfriend than you did.

Which brought you to where you are now,sitting next to Abby on the couch as she played. You go between watching her and the tv. You watched her as she played, the way her fingers would move over the controller, the way her muscles would tense at certain parts of the game. She looked mouth watering in her black boxers and grey wife beater (or a wife pleaser as she would call it.)

that just made you even more mad because it’s been a good week since she’s touched you, you could understand why most times during the week she didn’t feel like being intimate, you both have to get up early for work. You understood and respected that, but it was a Saturday, Saturday was always the day you both stayed in bed and became reacquainted with each other.

But apparently not today because Abby was already out of bed when you woke up and playing that damn game. You didn’t even want sex right now you just wanted your girlfriend.

She was right next to you but she felt a thousand miles away. It wasn’t like you were trying either when ever you tried to talk to her all you got was a mumbled

“hold on babe” as she continued playing and even if you tried talking to her about the game, because maybe you thought talking about something that interested her would get her to at least have a conversation failed because all you got in return was a distracted

“there’s some really good summaries of it online” her eyes never leaving the screen.

You loved Abby but you couldn’t take this. You sighed at got up hoping that maybe abby would ask yoy to stay because then she at least acknowledged your existence but all you got was a “don’t walk in front of the tv” you rolled your eyes and walked behind the couch and going up stairs.

You opened up your shared closet and grabbed your luggage out of it. You loved Abby you truly did do. She’s the woman you intend on spending your life with, but right now you couldn’t deal with her.

You had to go before you do or say something you regret. So you start opening draws and putting clothes in the bag(and you steal one of her hoodies from the closet to put in the bag) you go down stairs and put the bag by the door, and of course Abby is still playing her damn game. You go up back up stairs your footsteps a bit heavy aggravation at the forefront of your mind.

A leg cramp from sitting so long is what made Abby pause the game, she sat up straight from where she was hunched and saw you weren’t next to her on the couch anymore.

She twisted her body trying to crack her back when she saw it. Your suit case next to the door. Her blood ran cold, why was your suit case by the door? You never said anything about having to go somewhere, you wouldn’t just up and leave her right?

She took her headphones off and put her controller on the coffee table and rushed

upstairs

“Baby?” she called out

She could hear your angry mumbling from the bathroom

“Babe?” She asked walking into he bathroom to see you putting your toothbrush in your full toiletry bag

“What are you doing?” She asked apprehensively almost like she was afraid of what your answer would be

“I’m leaving Abby.” You told her flatly and you could see her heart break

“What? Why?” She rushes over to you her hand holding you arm and your snatch it from her grasp

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking know.”

“I don’t!”

“I just wanted to spend time with you but no you chose your stupid fucking game. I just need to go Abby I can’t do this right now.” You tell her brushing past her to walk out the bathroom

“Baby wait please” she follows you

You sit on the bed to put your shoes on and she kneels In front of you and you do your best to ignore her.

“(Y/n) please can we just talk.” Her voice cracks and you look at her. Her blue eyes wet with tears that threaten to fall

“Please can we just talk and if you still want to leave after I won’t stop you.”

You were quiet for a moment, you were angry but you knew that talking was better than just leaving.

“Okay.” You tell her and she stands up and sits on the bed leaving some space between the both of you.

“Why were you going to leave?” As asks looking over at you

“I just needed to get away before I said something I regret.” You tell her still looking down at your hands unable to look at her because you know you’ll fold the moment you meet those blue eyes.

“Why would you say something you regret.” She asked confused

“Because I’m mad Abby.”

“Why-“

You cut her off before she can finish her sentence

“All I wanted was to just spend some time with you, but you chose that fucking video game over me Abby, and that hurts okay. It hurts so fucking bad to be sitting next to you and feel like you’re a million miles away.” You finish and take a deep breath quickly wiping your own tears that feel.

It’s quiet and you look over at Abby. Her jaw is clenched and the tears she fought so hard to not let fall are now falling. She stared straight ahead with her fists balled.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Her voice breaking

She looks over you you and you see the anguish in her eyes. She rarely made you cry and but when she did she hated herself for it and you can see that now, right now she didn’t hate herself no right now she loathed herself.

She never wanted you to feel pushed a side with her and that’s exactly how she made you feel.

You hesitantly reach out to touch her arm, the muscle hard under the skin from how tense her body was.

“I’m so sorry baby, I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

You look at her, the way she looks so dejected. You know Abby, she has a heart of gold. She messes up and she owns up to it and goes out of her way to remedy the situation.

You know she would never intentionally push you a side and make you feel unimportant. You’re quiet for a minute you trust Abby you know if she says she’s sorry she means it.

“I love you Abby so much that it hurts, and I don’t care if you want to spend time playing games. But just please don’t shut me out like that again or I will leave.”You tell her grabbing her hand giving it a squeeze.

She sniffles using her other hand to wipe the tears from her face

“Knowing I’m the reason for your tears kills me, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I would do without you, you the best thing I have in my life and I’m sorry I made you feel second best.” She says, unclenching her fist to give your hand a squeeze back.

“I love you.” She tells you her eyes meeting hers.

You scoot closer to her on the bed and cup her cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. You use the pad of your thumb to brush her tears away.

Her eyes flicker to your lips before meeting your eyes again. She debates if it was even an appropriate time to kiss you.

You make the decision for her as you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a sweet kiss.

Abby turned her body towards you and held your waist with her hands. She poured every “I’m sorry” and “I love you” into the kiss.

You cup the back of her neck and grip the back of her shirt with the other hand. She broke the kiss and looked into your eyes asking a silent question “do you want to do this?” You nod and she slowly pulls your top off. Taking an intake of air as she slowly uncovered your breasts.

She pulled her own tank top over her head, as you scotched back up the bed until you were in the middle of the bed with your head on your pillow.

Abby gets on the bed and situated herself between your legs, she had her hands on either side of your head as she leaned down to kiss you. Your arms instantly wrapped around her, hands splayed out on her back. Her tongue skims your teeth dipping into your mouth as you open your lips wider.

You make out and her hand holds your waist and slowly goes up your body and stops just below your breast. She breaks the kiss and starts kissing your neck, her lips warm against the sensitive part of your neck. Her teeth grazes the skin and your hips buck.

“Gonna make it up to you” she says against your neck before she sucks and bites at your pulse point drawing soft whimpers from your lips. She kisses down your neck leaving little bites in her wake. She leaves kisses across your collar bones then down your sternum, until she reaches your breasts.

She kisses the nipple before she wraps her lips around it. She sucks your nipple her tongue swirling around it. Her hand goes to your other breast, pinching the nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

You moan and arch into her mouth. Her teeth graze against your nipple before she releases it with a pop.

She switches to your other nipple giving it the same treatment.

She kisses down your body until she reaches the little shorts you had on. She could see a wet patch in the center of them.

Her fingers hooked around the band and she looked up at you

“Is this okay?” She asks you looking at you you her wanting and darkened eyes meeting yours

“Yes please” you breathe out

Lifting your hips so she could pull your shorts down your legs and tossing them onto the floor.

She lays herself between your legs and puts your legs over her shoulders

“So beautiful” you hear her say before her tongue licks up from your hole to your clit.

You both moan simultaneously, her at your taste, and you at the feeling of her tongue gliding through your slick heat.

She kitten licks at your clit drawing more moans out of you. She sucks your clit her tongue swirling around it. She eats you out like a starving woman having her first meal. She moves her hand to your hole and slowly inserts one finger.

You had bucked your hips into her and had one hand fisting her hair that she didn’t put into her signature braid that day.

“M-more” you pant out

She adds another finger and curls them hitting your sweet spot.

You could feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach

“Abby ‘m close” you breathe out into a moan as she sucks your clit harder adding more pressure with her tongue that she flicked on your clit. She moved her fingers faster and she felt your walls tighten around her fingers.

The hand in her hair gripped harder as you came, your back arching off the bed moaning her name out. Your body burning in white hot pleasure. Your eyes rolling back as she slowly her movements letting you ride out your orgasm.

She pulled out her fingers and lapped up your juices. There wasn’t a drop left when she was done.

She kissed your cunt and inner thighs before she sat up panting. she watched as you came down from your high, she watched the way your body trembled and the way your chest rose and fell rapidly as you caught your breath.

Fuck she could have lost this, she could have lost you is the only thought on her mind as she kisses her way back up your body. You down at her with half closed eyelids as she kissed up your chest, giving your nipples a kiss.

She reached your lips and kisses you, you moaned at the taste of yourself on her lips.

“I’m sorry” she says against your lips

You open your eyes and see so many emotions swirling in her blue eyes and you cup her face.

“I know.” You tell her rubbing her cheeks with the pad of your thumbs.

“I love you so much” she tells you her voice heavy with devotion.

That day and into the night she worshiped your body, kissed every inch of skin.

she showed you just how much she loved you using her mouth, fingers, and strap.

She made a silent vow to you that night, she never again be the reason her angel was crying.

Before the night was up she brought your luggage back upstairs and put all your clothes back as you laid blissed out on the bed dozing off feeling sated and loved.

#Abby Anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby tlou

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