#it’s a wicked cool place to visit

[holybibly]

𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello, my dear."

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

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

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

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

"Something like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"F-Father…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shall I show you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were they?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were they?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have to undress completely, darling."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look at me, my darling."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You lowered your eyes in shame.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez yandere #yandere #atz smut #smut #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #san smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #jongho smut #wooyoung smut #yeosang smut #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez unholy hours

[theyungihven]

The Demon's Infatuation • Sex Demon Yunho

CHAPTER 1

↬ pairing: dom demon yunho x sub female reader

↬ genre: smut, romance

↬ warnings: breeding kink, cream pie, pain kink, unprotected sex, hip bruises, biting kink, slut-shaming, choking kink, hard core dom yunho, yunho is OBSSESSED,

↬ word count: 1.2K+

↬ author’s note: this full novel length fic is a dedication to my boyfriend alex and the demon that visited me at night two years ago every full moon night

Summary :

It might sound crazy to say that I've become a demon's infatuation and you might ask me, 'how did you even end up in this place?' Well well, even I don't know how it happened and whenever I ask him or confront him about our first meeting, he avoids the topic by sensually kissing me and making me forget about the question with an orgasm. I can't leave him because I can't live without him either. He is as if an intoxication I cannot get out of my body and desperately need in order to stay sane. He says, 'no one will love you like I do, darling' but how do I tell him that no one has ever loved me and no one ever can because my soul belongs to him, so does my heart and they worship him day and night.

She's just an innocent heartbroken girl who just wants to be loved for once despite her flaws and imperfections and he's a wicked demon who wants nothing but to corrupt her soul to till all she can think of him. What can go wrong if he takes a little interest in her? Heaven along with Hell are not going to collide with the Earth, or will they?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight?

What could exactly go wrong if I sit alone under the full moon at midnight? Nothing. So I don't give it a second thought and make myself comfortable in the chair placed out in the balcony, bathing in the moonlight. The faint melody of my favourite song plays in the background through my phone as it echoes through the balcony.

The balcony is my only safe space these days. It provides me comfort and solace when I desire it the most, in moments of utter hopelessness. It sports a pretty popular viewing and gossiping spot for my family on the first floor as it opens up towards the roadside. It also serves as a common concrete stairway to the rooftop.

The moon attempts to brighten up my gloomy mood as I dwell into my sadness. The cool breeze, which is as light as a feather, ruffles the tall green trees lining the streets and also caresses my cheek. It reminds me that I haven't been completely abandoned by this world and also that there are still some forces which appreciate my existence. 

Now, I cannot hope but wish that someone touched me in a similar manner. I wish someone held me like a mother holds her dear child, like a lover holds his significant other, like a child holds onto his dying pet. 

However, no matter how much I try to forget the incident that happened this afternoon, I can't seem to get it out of my head. I cannot get that picture of the people I once considered to be my friends, mocking me for liking a guy. I cannot forget the words they called me just for daring to like the most popular guy of my grade. 

They make me feel as if having a romantic interest in a boy or just simply liking someone is the biggest sin one could commit on the Earth.

My body shakes as the turbulent storm inside me rises to the surface and brews a great tsunami. It drenches my cheeks and my face as it brings destruction and mayhem along with it in the face of a heart-wrenching pain in my chest, hopelessness and a wave of absolute sadness which hits me like a speeding truck. Somehow, the hopelessness inspires me and convinces my mind to beg whoever deity is willing to listen to me. 

So, I do. 

“To whoever is listening,” I manage to say despite the water rising in my chest as it tries to suffocate me by drowning me in the lake of sadness but I need to beg the deity. So, I continue with my remaining energy, “I want a guy, who will love me for who I  am, despite my flaws and imperfections.” 

The dam breaks as the sea of sadness drowns me in it and finds an outlet through my eyes and the salty water flows along with my last words, “I don’t care about how he looks, or even if he’s a human!” At the end of the sentence, I end up on my knees, upon the cold white marble of the moonlit balcony, as the still water gushes out of my eyes and my body trembles like a tree against strong winds. 

An eerie silence follows, as I recover from the tsunami’s devastating damage but it isn’t long when I hear a deep chuckle, which is so crisp and clear as if the person is sitting right beside me. I look up and around to identify the potential maker of the noise, but end up meeting with disappointment when I fail to do so, but it doesn’t fail in sending a chill down my spine and my body on high alert. 

“Hello? Anyone here?” I say, but come to regret the decision of doing so in the next second when a shadow appears out of nowhere, sitting on the stairs leading to the rooftop. It leans back, placing its hand on the step as its lips curve up in a creepy smile. 

Its eyes glow a bright red and just one look at them is enough to send chills down my spine. When my body registers its glowing red eyes and black shadowy figure, its first instinct is to recite holy verses. I do as my mother taught me to wherever I encounter the child of the banished angel. However, I fail to pronounce them properly, as my tongue fails at cooperating with my mind and my body screams RUN. 

I do. I run, for my dear life.

I run inside as my fight or flight system takes over with the adrenaline coursing through my veins, at the highest concentration ever in my life. My poor heart tries to keep up with all the sudden increase in cardiac output, but the picture of his creepy smile still lingers in my mind,   as if imprinted onto my neurons. 

The first thing my itsy bitsy brain thinks of as a distraction is the radio my grandfather made for me. I turn it on, tuning the dial to search for stations while expecting some soothing tunes to play and it does. I breathe a sigh of relief when the radio plays Sparks by Coldplay, my all time favourite.

However my peace evaporates into thin air when the radio goes off tune and randomly switches channels only to land upon the frequency 66.60.

An eerie voice follows, which says, “you cannot run away from me, kitten.” 

I don’t even dare to touch the radio and follow my instincts this time. I run downstairs to my family who look at me as if they saw the stars when the sun rules the skies. I am breathless as I stand in front of my mother, who looks at me in surprise while I struggle to form sentences in my head as I sweat ridiculously.

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

“A cat.”

“Yeah, yeah, a shapeshifting cat.”

“As if anything of such kind exists in this world.”

“Dumb humans”

TAGLIST

@yunhogrippers @strbryjoonie @haram-monbebe @atinism @yvnhoos @st4rhwa @lomons

#yunho #demon yunho #ateez smut #san #ateez yunho #san smut #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #mingi #jeong yunho #incubi yunho #incubi san #yunho smut

[likedovesinthewindd]

this is a sort of continuation of this request for @xoxobabe. wc: ±1310

That night you went home unsated, thoughts of your interaction with the cool stranger plaguing your mind. You were a bit upset you didn't even get his name, so you had no way of finding him.

You just couldn't get over how cool he was, effortlessly so too. He walked around with unmissable confidence and suave, like he knew everyone was in awe of him. You'd give everything to have another conversation with him, preferably one where you didn't make a complete fool of yourself.

A few days later it seemed as though your prayers had been answered when your friend had payed you a visit. "I went to visit my friend, it was a small gathering, just a few people, and some guy there asked for you," she said as the two of you sat on your small couch.

Your breath hitched a bit at the possibility that it could be him, and your brows rose in intrigue. "Who was it?" you asked and she shrugged. "He didn't give me a name. Just asked where you were and asked me to give you this," she fished in her pants pockets until she pulled out a small paper and handed it to you. On it was a number scribbled in almost unreadable handwriting.

"What did he look like?" you asked, inspecting the small paper. "Really tall, lots of piercings and crazy clothes, had wicks?" she said and you tried not to look too elated. It was him, and he had asked for you. Maybe you hadn't made a complete fool of yourself.

That night you had planned to called him. But you didn't.

Three weeks; you had kept the little piece of paper by your nightstand for three weeks and not once did you call him. You'd come close, already pressing the numbers in but every time you tried to press "call", you'd drop everything, once again placing the paper on your nightstand.

You didn't know why were so hesitant. A small part of your brain kept telling you that you'd royally fuck up once you started talking again. You didn't even know what you'd talk about too. What if once you called him you'd freeze up like an idiot, or say something so stupid and weird that he'd have no choice but you hang up.

It bothered you as well. He must've thought you didn't want to talk to him, but you did. You so badly did, but you just didn't know where to start. Ironic seeing that you had all the facilities, just not the willpower to do anything with them.

♪.˳⁺⁎˚

Your friend had asked you to join her to go and see some band perform, and you had gladly agreed. Anything to take your mind of the little paper burning a hole in both your nightstand and your mind. You had dressed in your best, spent hours on your hair and makeup, the whole shebang. You needed a night out more than anything.

The venue was fairly small but quite full, but you and your friend fortunately found place quite close to the actual stage. She kept your place while you went to the little bar to get the two of you drinks. By the time you carefully made your way back to her, squeezing through the crowd trying not to spill anything, you heard the static of the mic and the band getting introduced. You tried to get a look while you moved but it was so packed all around you.

When you made it to your friend and finally got a chance to see the performers—just as they began—you couldn't believe your eyes.

Right there in front of you on stage, he stood, playing guitar like he was getting payed to do it (which he probably was). It was definitely a sight for sore eyes, and you felt like burying your head into the ground like an ostrich. If he saw you, you'd probably combust on the spot just from the embarrassment alone. How your friend forget to add this detail when telling you about tonight, you didn't know.

The band itself was amazing too. You enjoyed the music, it might not have have been what you'd listen to normally but still good music. Once they finished their performance the crowd erupted in applause and cheer. As everyone cheered you moved back into the crowd, telling your friend you needed another drink. Lord knows you truly did.

You made your way back to the small bar, politely ordering and watching intently as the bartender stared working on your drink. The sudden call of your name prompted you to turn around and once you did you wished you hadn't. It was him, of course it was.

"How've you been stranger?" he asked and you wanted to crawl in on yourself. Run away if you could. "I've been good," you smiled awkwardly as he joined you on the adjacent bar stool. "How about you?" you added.

He pursed his lips before replying. "Not too well, considering you never called," he said, "didn't your friend give you my number?" Maybe it wasn't too late to start running.

"No she did," you said quietly, "and I was planning on calling. It's just that I didn't really know how to start the conversation over the phone, if that makes sense." He only nodded, moving his body so that his body was now entirely facing you.

"Well, I'm here now, so how would you begin the conversation face-to-face?" he asked and you smiled. "I'd start by asking what the hell your name was," you said and he laughed. He extended his hand, mimicking your initial introduction. "Hobie," was all he said, although it sounded a lot more like 'Obie through his thick accent. You placed your hand in his and shook it gladly. "It's nice to meet you," you smiled.

"Your band, you guys did great, by the way," you said, thanking the bartender once he handed you your drink. "Yeah? You liked it?" he asked and you nodded excitedly. "Loved it," you said and he smiled. The sight nearly had you in shambles. "I'll have to attend every performance from now on. Just my duty as your new number one fan," you added, taking a gulp sip from your drink, your nerves not yet gone.

"Well then I can guarantee I'll be playing ten times better with you front row," he said with a smirk and you had to stop yourself from choking on your drink. "Don't inflate my ego," you said, yet you hated how small your voice sounded. "'M not," he tried, "jus' stating the facts." You found yourself giggling like a school girl.

The conversation continued for what felt like hours, the two of you sitting by the small bar, contently caught up in your own little bubble. It wasn't until one of his bandmates had called for him, telling him that they needed to pack up and get going, that he had to say goodbye.

"I hate to cut this night short love, but I have to get going," he said, standing up. You tried not to show how the nickname made your stomach flip. "It's alright, it's getting late anyway," you said, also standing up, suddenly remembering about your friend that you had deserted. "You'll call me this time, yeah?" he asked and you nodded with a small laugh.

"Good. I'll see you around, love. Take care, yeah?" and then he dissappeared into the crowd once again. You drank the last if the drink and tried to find your friend.

When you did, you apologized at your disappearance. "It's alright," she said, "I saw you were too busy with mister rockstar." You rolled your eyes at her words and the two of you made your way home. That night you planned to call him, and luckily you did.

★ part 3

#hobie brown x you #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #hobie brown x reader #likedovesinthewindd

[hoodharlow]

Groundbreaking

AN: idk just vibes and before you get on my ass that I copied Ree, I didn't. We literally talked about about it and exchanged ideas as we wrote our fics

Requested? No

Warnings: miscommunication

Word Count:

"Hun, that red is fine." Brian reassured Miriam for the millionth time.

They were all currently at Jack and Miriam's house in Louisville getting ready for a Halloween party Jack was throwing. Miriam had the day off from performing The Nightmare Before Christmas because Jacob was out of town promoting Priscilla. So Miriam decided to fly home for the day. She was gonna go to the football game but she ended up staying home to finish her paper for a class and rest up for the party. She finished most of the paper; she just needed to finish the conclusion and format it in the way her professor wanted. Now she was color matching Copeland's tattoo with the cream colors she had to paint on Brian's head. 

"Dad, trust the process." Jack nodded. 

His phone went off, alerting him that someone was at the gate. He excused himself and went to see what's up. Outside was a FedEx driver holding a large box for Miriam, but they needed a signature. Jack signed it and thanked them. 

"This came for you," he looked down at the label, "from Thom Browne."

Miriam squealed in excitement then turned to Jack's dad. "Okay let's let this dry for a bit so we can add another layer and outline it." 

"Got it, thanks hun." Brian nodded.

Miriam reached for the box and opened it like a kid at midnight on December 24th. She pulled out two more boxes with Thom Browne's signature labels. 

"What is it?" Jack asked. 

"I commissioned a chef's jacket to go as Syd and the apron for–" 

"Yo Jack, you're up for special effects." One of his friends called. 

"Special effects?" Miriam asked. 

"Yeah for my Wolverine costume. I found some retractable claws at Caulfield's. Cool huh?" He said gleefully. 

"Jackman Harlow as Hugh Jackman…groundbreaking." She said flatly. 

"You're such a smartass." Jack chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. Oblivious.  

Miriam watched him go to the makeup table. It was taking everything in her not to cry. When the second season of The Bear came out, Jack and Miriam agreed to go as Syd and Carmy. Miriam in Syd's chef's jacket and Jack in Carmy's slutty blue apron look. In August after a three hour lecture she went to visit Thom Browne and asked if he was able to make them the chef's jacket and apron. He agreed and worked on them later because he was busy with his upcoming show for Fashion Week. Miriam felt like an idiot for doing all that when Jack went and did his own thing.

She put everything back in the box and went to the kitchen for some pomegranates. Maggie had brought some over from her tree and deseeded them for her. Miriam poured some in a bowl and added some lime juice and chili powder from the bottles of the dupe Tajin her dad sells. 

"You okay?" Katalina asked her. 

"Do you have an extra costume?” Miriam asked her instead. 

Katalina was going as the Good Witch, Glinda, from Wicked. 

“I have the accessories for Elphaba. Do you have a black dress and gloves?” her older sister asked.

“Yeah, let’s go upstairs.” 

They went to the second floor where Miriam’s closet/spare bedroom was. Miriam put in the code and held the door open for her sister.

“I know this isn’t the sweater you swore you’ve never seen in your life when I asked you about it when it disappeared when you left my place back in New York.” Katalina held up the light grey Marc Jacobs cashmere knitted top. 

“Oh how did that get there?” Miriam smiled sweetly.

“So what’s bothering you? Don’t try to act like nothing’s bothering you. I’ve known you since you were inside mom.” Katalina crossed her arms.

“Nothing.” she shrugged her off. A few seconds passed. “It’s just that we agreed that we were going to be Syd and Carmy for Halloween and I went to Thom Browne and got our costumes custom. Now he’s saying he’s going to be the fucking Wolvorine.” 

“Jack as Hugh Jackman…groundbreaking.” her sister said in the same sarcastic tone as her.

“That’s what I said!” Miriam exclaimed.

“What did he say when you told him?” 

“Told him what?” 

“That he forgot y’all planned to do a couples costume.” 

“It’s whatever.”

“Miriam, it’s not whatever. If something bothers you, tell him. Y’all are literally engaged.” Katalina went off.

“I’ll tell him later. I don’t mind. I was thrown off but I’m over it.” Miriam reassured her. “Now, let me find the lyrics to Moon River so I can be extra and sing it at the party.”

*

Jack stared intently at Miriam as her and her sister danced. He could tell they practiced the dance from the movie beforehand because Miriam had the same concentration face from when Britney Spears was giving her dance lessons for her movie. Before that her and Katalina sang Defying Gravity–well Miriam sang most of it and her sister danced in the back. Then she changed accessories to be Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. As much as he didn’t mind watching her in a tight short black dress, he couldn’t help but wonder why she’s dressed as her favorite character from her favorite musical and not Syd from the Bear like she showed him hours before they went to the party. When Miriam is set on something, it’s rare for her to divert from that. 

A hand waved in front of his face, making him blink and break away from Miriam. It was Devin Booker’s hand. He had invited him to the party when he heard that Katalina was going. He knew they were talking but Miriam didn’t think so. Before the girls from the friend group went to the dance floor, Devin and Katalina were talking amongst themselves in a secluded corner. 

“You okay?” Devin asked him.

“Yeah, I’m confused by Miriam’s costume. She was going to be Syd.” Jack explained.

“From the Ice Age movies?” the NBA player asked.

“No,” he chuckled, “from the Bear. I wouldn't put it past her to be Sid from Ice Age.”

“And you would go as the white guy, I’m assuming.” Devin said.

“No, why would I?” Jack frowned. 

“I mean from what I’ve seen online, they’re a couples costume.” 

It took Jack a second then he looked down at his retractable claw. “Oh, I fucked up.”

*

The rest of the party went by in a blur. Jack and Miriam were back at their place devouring some tacos. Miriam finished and went to change out of her dress into one of Jack’s flannels so she could finish the last bit of her homework. She only buttoned the middle button of the flannel and one side of the flannel fell off her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Jack asked when he brought Daisy back inside from her nightly potty break. 

“You can go upstairs.” She waved him off. “I have to finish the conclusion and triple check the citations page to make sure I did it properly.” 

“Okay.” he kissed her exposed shoulder and went upstairs. 

He passed her closet and saw it was open. He stepped inside and saw the box from Thom Browne. Jack genuinely felt bad he forgot they planned to go as their favorite characters. A light switch went off in his head. He took the box and went to their shared bedroom. He quickly shedded off his tank top and jeans, putting on a fitted white t-shirt and the blue apron. He opted to stay in his boxer-briefs, not wanting to be fully exposed. He saw one of Miriam’s pencil eyeliners and doodled some figurines on his arms and hands. He heard Miriam make her way to their room and laid on his side, resting his head on his palm.

Miriam took one look at Jack and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a weirdo.” she said, making her way to him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you remind me about the costumes when I obviously forgot?” He asked, pulling her to his lap.

“Because I didn’t want to get in the way of you and Hugh Jackman.” she shrugged, running her fingers over the waist ties. 

“Miriam, if we agreed to do it, then we should’ve done it. I truly am sorry I forgot.” He said tugging her hands so she could look at him.

“It’s fine. You were kinda funny for going as the Wolverine.” she said passively.

“Instead of Syd and Carmy, we should've gone as Linguini and Remy from Ratatouille instead.”

Miriam scrunched her face. ”Why?” 

“Because I like you on top telling me what to do.”

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr ​ @carma-fanficaddict ​ @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo ​ @babyharleezy ​ @that-90s-girllll ​ @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz @w1ldthoughts @vanwritesfan-fiction @xxkoolkatxx @sativachilombo

#jack harlow #jack and miriam #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot

[biteofcherry]

Eva! I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to stop by and show you some love! But also tell you…

I have Dom Andy and his future sub on the brain! When I tell you I’ve been craving some Dom Andy…

Is there any way you can give a little tidbit…

A little idea on how that’s going?

Sweet Bella! 💖

Craving some Dom Andy, you say? I have to admit that I haven't thought much about him recently, nor written anything. Sorry! But I have this unposted bit and I'll gladly spoil you with it 😘

Ruby Slippers Masterlist

Ruby Garden Series

Andy Barber x reader; Dom!Andy Barber x submissive reader

warnings: b*d*s*m; Dom/sub dynamics; power imbalance; safe sane and consensual; mention of spanking (but none happening in this)

Too overwhelmed with everything shiny and new, and wicked, that you watched happen all around the club, you didn’t notice that the conversation between two Doms ended and Andy’s attention was fully back to you. 

He kept stroking your hair gently, seemingly untired of the soothing gesture since he started it.

He studied you as you looked around the club with eyes wide and curious; like a little apprehensive kitten wanting to explore the big world, but scared of taking a step. 

It’s been a while since Andy took care of a very green submissive. 

To be honest, he never felt ready for such a challenging dynamic, preferring his partners experienced in the basics and quickly attuning to his tempo. But your sweet, helpless expression pulled on strings inside his chest and caring for you - even in that simple way like guiding you through your first night at the Ruby Garden - fulfilled a certain need.

You didn’t notice Andy’s hand stilling on top of your head, until he tapped it. You turned your head and looked up at him, eyes wide in bewilderment from what you were watching as well from surprise upon realizing you were still kneeling at his feet, nearly naked.

“You look a little overwhelmed,” Andy traced a finger down your cheek and you couldn’t stop the pleasant shiver from rolling down your spine. “Is this the first BDSM club you’ve been to?”

“I’ve been to some.” You replied, with a dismissive shrug.

You hoped to sound cool about it, nonchalant even, as if you weren’t that pathetic as the Masters here probably saw you as.

However, Master Andy arched an eyebrow, his face displaying doubt.

“Which ones?” He asked and you realized there was no way you could lie to him, since he seemed to sense bullshit a mile away.

Was it his trait alone, or were the legends about real Doms true? Dominants that truly paid attention to a submissive’s body language and ticks, searching for all the signs of various emotions, not only focusing on what is pleasurable to them. 

Swallowing hard, you weaved your fingers together before replying:

“Um, to Strike and Red Room.”

You preferred not to remember those few visits, since they made you cringe and flee away before you got brave enough to join in any real scene. But they were clubs you stepped inside, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Andy’s blue eyes darkened, his forehead creasing in a frown. His fingers gripped your hair, this time pulling harshly enough to tilt your head back as he leaned down over you.

“It’s a good thing Anne brought you here.” He spoke calmly, but there was hard displeasure in his voice and you instantly felt like shrinking and apologizing. 

“Strike? Red Room? Those places are trash. Rape potential, not a ground for practicing safe BDSM. Just for risking getting your cute ass there you should be spanked.”

Sudden wave of heat filled your chest and seemed to spread through your body. It was a pinch of shame, but mostly it was a visceral reaction to the threat of having Andy’s big, heavy hand on your butt.

“Well, now,” Andy’s eyes sparked with interest as he noted the hitch in your breath and how your lips parted and pupils dilated. “I see you like spanking, birdie.”

Again, he read you so easily as if you said your thoughts aloud.

It took you a moment to find your voice. The pull on your hair and the overpowering closeness of Andy made you so excited, so thrilled. Reactions quite new to you, but which you welcomed with joy.

Then he said spanking in that low, velvety voice and you were wet in a flash.

“I-” you had to pause to wet your lips- “I don’t know. I’ve never been spanked.”

Andy’s eyes pierced right through you, dark and sparking with mischievous fire. He looked very pleased and excited.

“Oh, we will definitely do that. Soon, I think.” His grip on your hair eased and his hand slid down your neck.

“But first-” Andy stood up and gave you his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet- “let’s go exploring. I’ll walk you around, we’ll watch a few scenes and the equipment.” 

He kept himself in your space, not letting you withdraw from him an inch.

His warmth and the scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a hypnotizing haze.

One of Andy’s hands was on your ass, squeezing your flesh unabashedly; the other hand was wrapped around your wrist, thumb rubbing beneath the soft leather of the handcuff.

“And each time, you will tell me how much it arouses you.” His announcement and his tone made you drip.

You were quite sure Andy was very much aware of the effect he had on you.

“You’ll tell me what you want to try, what scares you and what you definitely don’t want to do. You will admit when something turns you on. And if you can’t find your big girl words, I will slide my fingers between your thighs and check with my fingers how wet that needy hole of yours got.”

Your needy hole was already wet and hot. You didn’t need to play voyeur to seek what aroused you, since it seemed Andy was it. 

“If I find you lying or evading, birdie,” he pinched your buttock, “I’ll punish you.” 

#labella420 #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #dom!andy barber #dom!andy barber x reader #andy barber imagine #my writing #ruby garden #ruby garden project #ruby garden series

[kimmberleeex]

anywhere, anytime.

NSFW, 18+, smut content

There was something so hot about how crazy you two were for each other. You guys were constantly making excuses to disappear for a quick moment to work out your passions in the heat of the moment, sometimes not even finding the time to make excuses and would just disappear without a word. It didn’t matter where you were; parties, hanging out with friends, work when Eddie would come visit you, the mall, the movies. It truly never mattered the time or place, Eddie would find a secluded spot and would rock your world every time. He would whisper the sexiest things in your ear while he rammed his cock into you, he’d keep his hand over your mouth because it was so hard for you to keep quiet. One time, he even stuffed your own panties in your mouth to muffle the noises that you were unable to keep contained, that was when he was railing you from behind in an aisle of the library that no one really went to.

However, this afternoon was no different. Eddie let you tag along on his trip to Reefer Rick’s to pick up his next supply. Only Rick wasn’t home yet from picking up from his supplier, that was the conclusion Eddie made when his heavy knocks went unanswered. We walked around back and Rick’s van was gone so that concluded it. It was a sweltering July afternoon, the sweat was already beading on the back of your neck and you could see it dripping down Eddie’s face. He always looked so hot when he was all sweaty, it made you want to lick it off of him. That was the insanity of being so in love with and so hot for Eddie Munson. “Want to see a bit of Lover’s Lake?” He asked you with a coy smile.

He leads you over to the boat dock, his ring clad hand in yours. That was something you loved about Eddie, he always had to touch you in some way. Whether it was holding your hand, his hand on the small of your back, your shoulders or arms touching. He always wanted to feel you next to him, it often made you wonder why but you didn’t mind either way. Once you reached the end of the dock, Eddie peeled his sweaty band shirt off and tossed it onto the wooden boards below, you giggled. “Eddie, you can’t seriously be doing what I think you’re doing.”

The infamous Munson crooked grin upturned the corners of Eddie’s mouth, you felt your heart palpitate in your stomach causing you to swallow hard. Your mouth suddenly felt so dry in this godforsaken heat. “I don’t know about you, but I need to cool off. You can join me…or I can toss you in.” Eddie suddenly starts to pick you up, as you were kicking and screaming in protest, he finally puts you back down with a hearty chuckle.

“So not funny, Munson. You’ll pay for that.” Your sweaty eyebrows furrowed together.

Eddie practically giggled as he pinched your cheek gently. “So damn cute when you get all mad.”

His muscled torso was almost blinding white, his forearms a little tanned from sticking them out of his van window while he drove. The contrast made you giggle, but still you admired his toned body. Your fingers instinctively tracing over his tattoos, following the dip in his collarbone causing him to shiver a little. Clearing his throat, “C’mon, sweetheart. If you keep doing that, we won’t even make it in the water.” Another wicked grin, and you couldn’t help but return it to him.

“Maybe I want that.” You teased him, his eyebrow quirked up, disappearing into his curls that were sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“Is that so?” Eddie undoes his makeshift handcuff belt, letting it hang open, he pulls apart his jeans from the silver button, all with a single hand. The blue checkered boxers he wore and little tuffs of hair from his happy trail peeking over the top are exposed to you. His other hand, caresses your jaw and moves into the back of your hair where he grabs a handful. Pulling your head back and exposing your neck to him, he kisses the column of your throat, his tongue drags upwards in a tantalizingly slow pace before he murmurs. “Is that what you want, princess?”

A soft moan unwillingly escapes your lips that were now parted by his unexpected hair pull. Eddie always knew what to do to get you hot for him, not that it required much effort on his part. Your attraction to him alone would get you there. “What’s that, sweetheart? Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” He pulls your hair a little harder, causing a louder moan from you. Pushing your head forward to look at him again, he crashes his lips against yours feverishly. His hands fall to cup your ass in those short denim shorts you liked to wear to drive him crazy, he pulls you up into his arms. Carefully, he carries you into the boathouse, kicking the door shut behind him.

He pushes you up against the wall a little too hard, some boat oars crash down around you causing you to laugh as he kisses your neck. He groans as he nips at your tender skin, “God, angel, you drive me wild. Always making messes with me…”

You couldn’t stifle the giggle if you tried, he looks up at you. “Oh, am I funny to you?” Nodding your head with another giggle, he sets you down and turns you around so he can smack your ass. The pain makes you moan as he pulls your head back by your hair once more and whispers in your ear. “Such a naughty girl.”

Eddie sees a cloth tarp balled up on the floor near the window, mumbling to himself, “This will have to do…” He peels your clothes off of you, picking you back up as you squeal from excitement. He gingerly lays you on your back on the tarp, it’s not the best of places he’s fucked you, but there’s definitely been worse. Like the bathroom at The Hideout was far less cleaner than this. While looking down at you, his grin makes a reappearance. He kicks his shoes off and to the side, finally pulling his pants and boxers down and off. His cock springing forward at full attention for you. He steps out of his pants and kicks them off over by his sneakers.

Watching him spit in his palm and rub the entire length of his cock always made your pussy flutter. It was the hottest thing to see, he would bite his lip from the sensation of his grip. He left his rings on for you, knowing how much you loved feeling and seeing them. He leaned over you, his dark curls cascading around his face, his tongue poking out in total concentration as he aligned the tip of his dick with your wet entrance. He would rub it up and down your slit to tease you, moaning softly at how wet you already were for him. “Such a dirty girl, already so wet for me. You want my cock baby? You know what to say.”

Biting your lip, which drove Eddie crazy, you watched his eyes darken even with the light peering in the window above them. “Please, give me your cock baby. I want it, no, I need it.”

“Good girl,” he murmured as he stuffed his cock into your wet heat. The boat house suddenly filling with the sound of wet squishing from his steady thrusts into your soaked core, a symphony of grunts, moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls from the two of you, and the sound of your sweaty skin slapping together. Eddie’s ring-clad hand gripped the window sill, allowing him leverage to ram into you. He stared down at your beautiful body, watching the way your tits bounced from his hard thrusts, the way your perfect lips were parted as you moaned in pleasure. It was almost too much for Eddie, mumbling. “Shit, oh shit.” He could have blown his load right then at the grip you had on him. However, Eddie was masterful in controlling his breathing so that he could power through it, refusing to finish before you.

With his free hand, he put your leg up on his shoulder, allowing him to bury himself deeper into you. Each thrust pummeling against that spongey spot along your walls that made your eyes roll back. Occasionally, he would rotate his hips in a way that would cause your brain to fog in pleasure, causing you to go dumb. Your grip on him was tightening and he knew you were getting close, he grunted through it. “C’mon, baby. Cum for me. Soak this cock.” He wraps his arm around the leg on his shoulder, his thumb circling your swollen bud. This sends you over the edge, your walls convulsing around him as your orgasm ripped through you. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you cried out in pleasure, Eddie not even bothering to cover your mouth because he knew no one was out here. Doing as you were told, you soaked his cock and unfortunately the cloth tarp you two were on. “Fuuuuck, baby. That’s a good girl. Fuck!” He thrust a few more times before one final, hard push before his cock was pulsating inside of you. Filling you to the brim with his seed, he lay there silently. Panting heavily and whimpering softly as his cock finished twitching before he slowly pulled out.

You couldn’t find the words, you also were trying to catch your breath. But you knew you had a sex dazed grin on your face. Eddie caressed your cheek briefly, murmuring. “So pretty when you’re fucked out like this.” He chuckled before offering his hand to help you stand up. Your knees wobbly from the intensity of your orgasm, you couldn’t help but to giggle at yourself.

“God, Eds. You’re gonna kill me one day.” Your smile radiated as you looked at him, it filled his chest with such warmth.

He kissed your temple, his hand in the back of your hair as he murmured into it. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, handsome.” You whispered to him. Eddie reluctantly pulled away, gathering his and your clothes. He let you lean on him for support when you needed it before he got dressed himself. When you finally emerged from the boathouse, Eddie still shirtless because it was still laying on the dock. Reefer Rick stood at the top of the hill by his house.

“There you two lovebirds are. That was a real finisher, Junior.” A big grin was plastered on his face. Eddie’s face flushed a deep pink and you hid behind him, burying your face into his back. This wasn’t the first time you two had been caught, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

#eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #joseph quinn #eddie munson pov #pov #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #fanfiction

[lastchancestardomm]

We Will Never Leave You.

Mercenaries x Teen!Reader

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings: Implied drugged drinks. Heavy swearing. Fluffy Found-Family Mercenaries. OC-insert. Written accents.

Status - Not Beta Read

A/N: This is by far my biggest fic ever. I consider it my Mona Lisa. My tour de force. You get the point– this is my favourite Ana fic ever. Oh, by the way, you really should read my first Mercenaries x Teen!Reader fic, "A Real Family", because while it isn't related to this one, it does add some background. Ana is a chaos kid, just so you know. There's so much to this saga, and so few words to be able to express it. Also, all my fics are formatted on mobile 😎.

The Mercenaries were hard to live with. They worked everyday and when they returned to base they were tired as hell. On ceasefire days, most would be too exhausted, or busy with other work to hang out with Ana. And she was getting sick of it.

She had battles to win, friends to make, places to explore, rocks to kick, dirt to dig in– she wasn't a little kid who needed to be protected.

That's why on one night, while everyone else slumbered in their beds, she snuck out of the base. All Ana had on her was her pocket knife with the beaten-up blade, and some money. Looking back at the base, seeing the soft orange glow of lamps in various windows, she began her charge to the small town of Teufort.

As she reached the town, she plopped herself down on a park bench. It was a nice night, honestly; a light breeze, a full moon, and the smell of dew lingering in the air. Ana sighed deeply, knowing well that any of the Mercs would be (rightfully) pissed if they knew she were here. Especially so late. Ana took out her knife and began to fiddle with it.

The blade sprung out, ready for action at each flick of her wrist, only to be diligently pushed back into its handle by her thumb. She thought of her friend in town, Mandy Tanaka– maybe Ana could visit her, and stay until morning. That'd be nice, 'cause Mandy is too dumb to know that people shouldn't visit at 2:37 in the morning. Maybe they could–

"Nice blade there."

Ana jumped. Her head whipped up to be met with the face of someone. It was a guy. He was about six feet tall, and skinny; but he was intimidating. He had tattoos on his arms, a nose ring, and wicked hair that looked to be streaked with mud. His left eye also looked to be bruised. He wore a stained tank top and baggy jeans.

"Sorry kid, didn't mean to scare you," his voice was rough, like sandpaper on Ana's ears.

She frowned, and huffed, "I wasn't scared."

He chuckled. "Really? Whatever, shortstack." Ana was more focused with looking at the stains on his shirt. Some were red, others were brown. Unfortunately, he seemed to notice her staring.

"What'cha so interested in? Am I really that much of a looker?" he seemed to eye her up and down.

Ana frowned again, and backed up on the bench, her back pressing on the cool metal bars. "Your shirt, lollakas. What's on it?"

"Feisty, aren't we?" He commented, ignoring her question. "I like that".

Ana stuck her pocket knife back into its sheath on her boot, and crossed her arms. She eyed the guy critically.

"So, you wanna kick it with me, kid? You look like the kind to enjoy a little mischief,"

Ana's eyes met his. She hesitated for a bit. This guy was much older than her. Then again, she was only sixteen. He looked twenty, maybe twenty-two. She thought for a moment, before a mischievous grin tugged at her lips.

She nodded. "Jah. Jah, I'll join ya."

He smirked. "Whatever you say, kid. C'mon." He turned on his heel and began to walk off, hands casually in his jean pockets. Ana bounced onto her feet and quickly caught up with him. "So, kid, think you're ready for what we'll do tonight?"

Ana rolled her eyes. She's sixteen, not a kid. If she wanted to, she could drive a car. "I have a name, you know," she scoffed. The guy side-eyed her, and quirked a brow as he kept walking. "It's Ana."

He shrugged. "Alright."

She rose a brow. "So...? What's yours?"

He dug his hands deeper into his pockets. "Chet."

Ana stared ahead, and turned back to Chet. "What are we going to do?"

He smirked slightly. "You'll find out kid."

He led her to a warehouse type of building; adorned with rusty metal siding, and had to be at least three stories high with one lamp hanging taut on a metal cord over the door. Chet knocked twice on the dingy metal door and someone opened it from the inside.

"Hey sweetheart!" the girl who answered the door cooed. She was also skinny, like him, and had multiple lip piercings. She wore fishnets under jean shorts, and her pink tank top sagged to where it was showing a lot of cleavage.

Her eyes were covered by reflective shades that gleamed green and purple under the grody yellow light from the lamp hanging above them.

"Oooh, who's this?" she asked in her squeaky voice. A cigarette that was in her mouth fell wetly to the ground.

"Fresh meat," Chet said.

"Finally, a girl. I'm getting sick of you and all your goonies constantly coming over," she kissed Chet's cheek, "not that I don't enjoy your company." He seemed to smile, though it looked more like a smirk. Chet took Ana by the wrist and dragged her over to a beaten-up old couch inside.

They plopped down together on it. Ana sat across from them on the floor, legs crossed.

"So, kid, ever had alcohol before?"

Ana shook her head. "I'm not old enough. I'm uh, kuusteist. I, uh– um... sixteen..."

The woman cackled. "So? Hunny, the rules don't apply here! Here, try some, we got plenty!"

"Yeah, kid. Don't even have to swig it if you don't want to," Ana watched as Chet took a bottle of beer from a crate underneath the sidetable by the couch and popped it open. He took a long drink before setting it back down with an empty clink. It was completely drained.

He cracked open a few more, passing them to his girlfriend, who would ditch her empty bottles on the grotty beige carpeting. They gulped down the beers one after the other, the girl eventually pulling out cigarettes to pair with their excessive drinking.

Chet's girlfriend placed an open bottle in front of Ana, rolling the metal cap around in her hands. She took her hand and pointed a finger to it. "Drink it,"

Ana bit her lip. Her hand drifted over to the bottle and she picked it up. She stared at the bottle dumbly. Ana wasn't stupid, she knew pretty damn well not to take food or drinks from strangers. Her dad taught her that. She sniffed the opening, and it reeked of something strange. No, no; something spicy. Whatever it was, it made the beer smell wrong.

Chet's girlfriend looked at her. "Don't just stare at it, silly, drink it!" she drunkenly giggled.

"I- I don't want t-to.." Ana stuttered.

Chet's flushed face immediately darkened. "What?" Chet asked. Ana stiffened, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Chet let out an angry, strangled sound that was in-between a scoff and a frustrated laugh. "You don't want to? Kid. That wasn't a question. This shit isn't cheap. Drink that fucking thing right now."

Ana slowly stood up, unsure if she was to run or stay. Her eyes darted around. A bottle whizzed past her head, barely missing her by a hair and shattering into the wall behind her, and she fearfully collapsed back onto the floor in a heap.

"C'mon! It ain't that fucking hard to drink it!" Chet shouted. His girlfriend tried to grab his surprisingly well-built arms to hold him back.

"No! Chet, hun, chill. She's just a kid. I know you're not like this!"

Chet stood up and grabbed another empty bottle of the floor. "Nah, toots! This kid wanted to have a good time tonight. But she's gotta listen to us if she really wants to," Chet stepped closer to her.

Ana backed up on the floor, and kicked the bottle over by mistake. The hazel, bubbly liquid spilled out from the neck of the bottle right into the carpet. Chet stopped in his tracks, and stared at the growing dark stain. He looked back up at Ana, with a horridly familiar rage in his eyes.

"Didn't you fucking hear me?! Don't you know how fucking hard it is to get that shit?! Get out! Get the fuck out before I kill you!" Chet charged at Ana like an angry bull. His girlfriend tried to hold him back, but she was weak and delirious from the alcohol and fell back onto the couch with a whimper.

Ana gasped and stumbled up. She sprinted for the door, bashing through it like an unstoppable force (even if her forearms were already bruising because of the reckless maneuver). "Get back here you fucking runt!" he called after her.

She hightailed it, speeding through the small town right back to the safety of RED Headquarters. She ran faster than she ever had, that super fast kind of running that made her sides hurt. So fast, her poor feet couldn't keep up with her in the clunky military boots Soldier had gifted her.

Ana tripped on her own feet, and came crashing down; rolling along the dirt ground before coming to a rude stop by hitting a rock jutting out of the desert ground. Chet came up on her quickly after, and grabbed her by her shirt collar.

"Stupid little kid," he mumbled under his breath, which Ana further noted to be stinking with some kind of drug, along with alcohol. His nose flared as he dropped Ana back onto the ground.

Before Ana could try to crawl away, Chet plowed his foot into Ana's side. She curled into a protective ball, as more blows rained down on her. Ana grabbed her pocket knife from her boot, but as she tried to unfurl (intending to stab Chet in the foot) a well-timed kick clocked her right in the chin; knocking one of her top teeth out, and sending her flying onto her back. Her pocket knife wasn't sent too far, either.

Chet stomped on her chest, the pain burning as it felt like her ribs broke. Ana attempted to roll away, but Chet stepped on her back, pressing his weight onto her. "Not so feisty now, huh?" he bit.

He bent over to take the pocket knife from the red-orange dirt of Teufort–or most of the Badlands for that matter–and stabbed it into her shoulder. Ana cried out in pain, a shrill shriek accompanied by various tortured Estonian curses.

Before he could drive the knife deeper into Ana's shoulder, a figure tackled him to the ground. The figure held a long, knife-like object to Chet's neck, as he squirmed under their weight. "Think again, yah buggar," it muttered. The figure then cut Chet's throat, his desperate gurgling invading Ana's ears.

The figure stood up, and walked over to her. As it came closer to the dim streetlights, she could make out the hat and amber-tinted sunglasses of Sniper, who glared down at her disappointingly. He put away his Kukri, and bent down to take the pocket knife out of Ana's shoulder.

As the cold blade came out, all Ana could do was wail pained apologies to the kiwi. "Sniper, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have left!" her eyes watered from the pain, but Sniper said nothing. "Ah... vabandust!"

He ripped a small part of his sleeve off to act as a temporary tourniquet until they got back to base, and once he was sure of the knot, he turned around and pointed at his back. Ana complied, crawling onto his back carefully.

He began to walk with her back to the base. His walking was quicker than normal from his height, but he remained silent throughout the ordeal. Ana nuzzled her face into his shoulder blade.

"Sniper?" He said nothing. "How did you find me?" He continued to stay silent. "Sniper, answer me." He stared blankly ahead. She checked his shirt. Yep, he was on her team.

Once she and him were back at base, he placed her down in front of the door. He leaned down to check his makeshift tourniquet, and pulled on the tails of the knot to make it tighter before getting back up. The lights in the base were on, and Ana could hear arguing from behind the door.

"Vell? Vhat should ve do? Sniper is gone, Ana is missing, and zhe others are having no luck finding her!" Medic cried.

"Ah'm tryin' to think, doc! Where would she have gone? Scout and Heavy haven't found anythin' on the battlefield, Spy hasn't reported back from the other base, Pyro's too busy bawlin' his eyes out, and Soldier is on a rampage God-knows-where followed by Demoman!" Engineer exclaimed back.

Sniper nudged Ana with his elbow as he walked by. He opened the door and strode in. "Herr Sniper! Vhere have jou been?! Is Ana vis jou?"

Sniper crossed his arms, with a scowl on his face. "Why don'tcha ask 'er yourself, doc?" On cue, Ana stepped into the base.

"Ana!" Engineer screeched with pure joy. "Medic! Check her! Ah'm gonna go tell the others!" Engineer ran out of the room, hot on his heels.

Medic rushed over and looked her over. Ana's whole body was covered in dirt and bruises. Medic paused when he laid his eyes upon Sniper's tourniquet on her arm. He applied some pressure to the covered wound, but just sighed as it had to do for now.

"Oh, Ana, vhere did jou go? Vhat vere jou doing?" Medic asked.

Sniper grunted. "The sheila was off in Teufort with some punk. He was kickin' 'er ass before Oi stepped in. Oi saw her leavin' from me van and followed 'er there." Some Mercenaries filled the room. Those included Scout, Heavy, and Pyro.

Pyro was a sobbing mess. His mask was off, and his face was all red with his eyes all puffy. "Ana!" he yelped, which broke her heart. His charismatic Italian-New Yorkan accent soiled by a scratchy throat from him wailing his lungs out earlier.

"Wh- why did you- you leave us?" He asked, sniffling. He quivered and Engineer hugged him. Medic stood up and strode over to Heavy.

Suddenly, Soldier smashed through a window, "Maggots!" he cried. Demoman followed suit, and crashed through the wall right next to Heavy in a cloud of shrapnel and dust. Heavy didn't even flinch, but Medic screamed and fell over in a panic. Soldier had tear streaks on his cheeks, and Demoman's eye was red and puffy.

Ana looked at all the worried men. She never expected them to cry over her. She knew they cared about her, yeah, but they were all grown men who had lives and live and jobs to do; not waste away their free time watching over a slimy, no-good, Eesti teen they didn't even need to watch over in the first place!

She was only gone for what? An hour and a half? But maybe they really did care more than she thought.

"Ana..." Sniper's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "Tell 'em why you were in Teufort,"

Scout gasped and stammered, "Wh-wh– wha-what?! Why did yah go so far? What were yah doin'?" his voice cracked mid-sentence. A chill ran up Ana's spine.

"Oui, chérie, and what were 'ou doing?" The Spy had arrived.

She stood quietly, and looked at each and every one of them. Demoman seemed shocked, nearly distraught; Soldier had a poker face, but tears still dribbled down his cheeks; Spy looked concerned, though wasn't crying. He seemed to handle this ordeal the best.

Sniper looked pissed off, and a bit annoyed; Scout was shell-shocked; Heavy was stone-faced, but had dried tear streaks on his face, and was helping a worried and frazzled Medic to his feet; Pyro had his face buried in Engineer's chest, still sniffling and hiccuping; and then Engineer looked... disappointed.

And Ana started to cry.

From her slumped stand, she collapsed to her knees and cried. She didn't hiccup or sob, but she took shaky breaths as tears flowed down her face.

Godammit....

"I w-was just s-sick of being left– left out!" Most men stiffened. "I wanted to g-go see– see the town! I wanted to do s-some– something instead of sit in my damn room! Like every other frickin' day!" she covered her face with her hands, her head feeling heavy.

She just wanted to curl up and disappear. Have them all forget about her. Make it like it used to be in Otepää when she was young. "Vabandust.. I didn't think you cared about me anymore,"

Demoman spoke up, "Lassie, we would nevah stop carin' 'bout yah." Heavy joined in, "Дa, leetle gurl needs us and ve need leetle gurl."

Pyro made his way over to Ana. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own, which were coarse from years upon years of fire burns. His face was very red, and many winding lines of tear streaks ran down his cheeks. "We will never stop carin' about yah, Ana," he said. "We will always love yah, and take care of yah."

"I'm sorry we can't be d'ere everyday. I'm sorry yah were raised up in such a bad place. I'm sorry we can't be the guardians yah need us ta' be."

Ana cried out more and threw her sore arms around Pyro's neck. "D-don't be sorry! You g-guys are the best any– anyone could ask f-for!" She felt Pyro's arms wrap around her, "I wouldn't give y-you guys up for anything!" she said.

"We wouldn't give yah up eithah, Roo," Sniper said, patting Ana on the back as she was held in Pyro's embrace.

Engineer strode over, and took her from Pyro. He held her in an embrace, "Listen Ana, Ah don't want yah feelin' like we don't care for yah. We really do. Alla us would risk anythin' for yah. Sure, we're all busy with work and when we come back we're all tuckered out, but if yah wanna do somethin', we'll do it. Startin' today Ah think we should all dedicate a few hours to yah after work. Right fellas?" The others nodded.

"How does that sound darlin'?"

She shrugged, "I don't want you guys to hang out with me if you don't want to, or if you're tired,"

Demoman piped up, "It'd be worth it, lass!" Soldier agreed with the Scot, "Yes! I would climb a mountain and fight my old roommate if you wanted me to!"

Ana laughed, "But you fight him every Halloween!"

Soldier nodded, "Exactly, Cadet!"

"Leetle gurl?" Heavy asked. She looked at him. "You understand that all us men love you, correct?" Ana nodded. "Vell, don't forget."

She smiled at him. "I love all you guys, too. Ma armastan teid koiki in my language, just so you know." she giggled.

Medic walked over to her and placed his hand under her chin.

"Und ve vill never stop loving jou."

#tf2 #team fortress two #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 ocs #medic x reader #spy x reader #scout x reader #engineer x reader #soldier x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #pyro x reader #sniper x reader #tf2 platonic #tw long text #my work #pls reblog #oc x canon #child reader #oneshot #proshippers dni

[sluttyminghao]

kinktober drabble seven: demon!wonwoo x angel!afab!reader

w.c.: 2k rating: 18+, smut warnings: wonwoo is a fallen angel/demon, face sitting and lots of mentions of the clit/lips, based in a dingy room/hallway, some kind of angst/pining near the end? idk really a/n: instalment three! feedback is always appreciated thank you for your continued support of kinktober <3

taglist | masterlist

It wasn’t often you were called down to the Demon Sector, and you were glad about it because it wasn't exactly your favourite place to visit. The halls were dark and dreary, it smelled a little bit damp, and the air held a coolness to it that filled you with anxiety.

You just needed to collect some files from the Head of Demons, and then you would be back up in the Angel Sector in no time.

However, the world didn’t seem to want to do any favours for you today. Just as you were beginning to find your bearings from the vague map that had been unceremoniously shoved in your hand before you left, you felt a cold hand come to rest on your shoulder. You jumped and a scream left your lips before a large hand was cupped over your mouth and you were dragged into a narrow hallway.

You were terrified. You were sure that if your pulse was being measured it would be through the roof, but that was the least of your concerns.

“Be quiet, will you?” A husky voice emanates from behind you, and your blood runs cold. The voice sounds familiar, and you aren't sure where from. It isn’t until you manage to wriggle out of his strong grasp and turn around to face him, that your jaw drops and you are stunned speechless.

Jeon Wonwoo, a former angel now turned into what seemed to be a demon, had pulled you into this poorly lit hallway. You only recognised him due to his height and his husky voice, you used to sit near him in one of your classes when you were training to be angels. It had been a while since you had seen him, but you figured it was just due to clashes in your schedules.

He had changed completely from the last time you had seen him. His once pure white wings had been tainted with a sort of dark grey colour, and the edges were fraying as if he had been caught in something. Silver locks were skewed across his hairline and fluffed up on top of his head, in place of the inky black colour he sported when he was an angel. Even his soft smile had been replaced by a wicked smirk, sending shivers down your spine and unwanted heat to your crotch.

“Wonwoo?” You manage to choke out, but he presses a finger to your lips and grabs your hand before dragging you to a room just off the hallway. Once you’re both inside he peeks his head out to make sure no one had seen either of you come in, before closing the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing here? You should know angels will be prosecuted if they are found in the Demon Sector!” He speaks through gritted teeth, eyes flaring into some kind of amber colour, before turning back to their original shade of brown. You avoid eye contact as much as you can, but when he looks that good, it’s hard not to stare.

“I-I got sent here by the Head of Angels for some documents…since when were you sent down here?” You query, and you notice his body twitch and a sigh heave through his body before he sits on the couch and pats the spot beside him, hoping you’ll sit with him. Hesitantly, you sit next to him and keep your distance, observing how his wings droop and he drops his head into his hands.

“A while ago I got caught committing a bunch of sins, I don’t regret doing the sins but I do regret not being able to say goodbye to everyone up there before I got booted down here,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and you think he might be on the verge of tears. You reach a hand out to squeeze his knee comfortingly, and he jumps at the contact.

“Sorry.”

He shakes his head at you and moves closer to you, and you can see his eyes begin to turn amber again. You aren't sure whether you are more turned on or terrified at this moment, but you decide to stick with the former and feel your panties begin to stick to you as he lets one of his hands come down to lay on your knee.

“You said you needed some documents for the higher-ups, I can help you get them, but there’s something I want you to do for me first,” his hand glides up the hem of your dress, and your breath hitches. His hand stops its movements until he sees your legs spread a little further, allowing him access to your core.

“What is it?” Your voice comes out as a whisper as his fingers deftly move to the front of your panties, pressing lightly against the wet spot that had begun to form on the fabric. He smirks and takes notes of your wide eyes staring at him, your lips parted and soft sighs escaping every so often. You looked even more angelic than you did before if that was at all possible.

“Well, it’s kind of an odd request, but I would like you to sit on my face,” he spits out, and laughs when your eyes widen even further, and you begin stuttering out incomplete phrases that made zero sense. “I know, I know it’s weird but you see, I’m not actually a demon yet, I’m still technically classed as a fallen angel, and to become a full demon, I need to complete the seven deadly sins. The only one I have to complete is lust, which is where you come in.”

You feel your cheeks burning at his request. Sure, he’s been the main character in your sexual fantasies a couple of times in the past, and he was attractive, but to sit on his face after only meeting him for an hour? It was a tempting offer, but something was hanging inside of your mind that was causing you to hesitate. 

You decide to fuck that feeling away and nod confidently at him.

He smirks and immediately presses his lips to yours, the taste of mint tingling against your tastebuds. His kisses are soft, luring you in and getting you drunk on the taste of him. He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you closer until you’re almost on his lap.

Wonwoo feels like he’s gone back to heaven with the way he’s got you on him. He can feel your body heat radiating onto his stomach and legs and feels his cock twitch. Swiftly, he gets your dress over your head, breaking the kiss briefly to gawk at your body and press soft kisses to your chest and stomach.

He breaks away and moves you off his lap, readjusting his body on the sofa so he was now laying down with a pillow behind his head. With one quick movement, he has you back on his lap, inching you forward until you’re basically sitting on his chest. From your point of view, you can see his eyes swirling to a now ruby-red colour; your best guess was the lust was reaching his head.

“Go on, sit on my face, wanna make you feel good,” Wonwoo grunts from below you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. By now, you’re positive you’ve soaked through his thin shirt, and you will more than likely soak his face in your juices, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the lust begins to haze your own mind.

Slowly, you move forward on your knees and grip the arm of the sofa behind Wonwoo’s head, and you can see how his pupils dilate when your cunt is directly above his lips. You can tell he’s getting impatient, so you decide to not make him wait any longer and shuffle your hips down so that they finally connect with his face, and he takes your lips in his mouth readily.

A rumour had gone around a while back that demons were experts with their tongues, and you could proudly say that it was true.

Wonwoo’s tongue laved over every inch of you, not sparing a single piece of flesh untouched by him. He buries his nose into your clit, bumping against it every so often and jolting you forward and making you moan out. You try so hard to be quiet, not knowing if there was anyone on the other side of the door in the hallway, but Wonwoo seems hellbent on trying to make you as loud as possible.

It’s like he wants you to get caught.

He makes sure to suck on all your sensitive areas, licking and even fucking his tongue into you to make your back arch. When he sees your thighs beginning to tremble, he picks up the pace and makes sure to increase everything tenfold. Stars begin to dance across your vision, your legs are closing in around Wonwoo’s head and his hands wrap around your thighs to prevent you from moving away from his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbles onto the flesh of your thigh, pressing sloppy kisses against the skin before diving back in and sucking on your clit ravenously. Your moans had gotten louder and more frequent, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care at that point, with your orgasm just within reach.

Within moments, you could feel your orgasm crashing over you in large waves, tears beginning to streak down your face and your mind turning to mush. You’re almost certain you moaned out Wonwoo’s name, but you couldn’t be certain. He lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his tongue, while he attempts to collect every single drop he can from you.

“That was fucking hot,” You’re stunned by the drop in octave of Wonwoo’s voice, and you look down and gasp at the sight below you. His ashy grey wings had now transformed into those of a midnight black, and his eyes, which were once brown, were now red with flecks of yellow and orange throughout.

You were stunned, and when he gently placed you to the side and used his coat to clean you up, your heart skipped a beat. Even with him now classifying as a demon, you can still see some of the angelic qualities shining through that made him so loveable when he was an angel.

“Thanks for the treat,” he speaks up, standing to pick up your dress he had flung on the floor. He frowned when he noticed some black smudges on the white fabric, and attempted to clean them off. When he failed, he meekly handed you the dress and helped you to redress yourself, attempting to hide the smudges as best as possible.

“Will I see you again?” You comment, voice raspy after using it excessively. He looks at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher before he’s heading towards the door and opening it. He stares at you longingly, before sighing and turning around to head out to the hallway.

“Maybe in another future.”

You’re left pondering his words for a few moments before you pick up your jacket and carefully slide it over your wings. It’s only as you are walking out of the random room that you notice the sticky feeling clinging to your thighs, and you cringe internally. There’s probably nothing you can do until you get back to the headquarters anyway.

Just as you go to leave, your eyes widen in realization. You had forgotten to get the one thing you had come here for, and now you were left running down the dingy corridors, hoping to find Wonwoo again so that he could help you out.

taglist: @crushonwoo, @wonuwonslvr, @haogyuslut, @lovercheol, @enhacolor, @ruefulposts, @j4smjne, @yeritheloml, @panda0329, @milkyruins, @huiranghaes, @hansolaria, @woozis-wife, @drawxler, @cheolsbestie, @baldi-2, @noraehey, @flowersforcheol, @soonhoonietrash, @junhui-recs, @maybeifyoutrieddd, @bekah931215, @iamcool789, @cuwons, @melonaicepops, @ohmykent, @seuomo, also tagging @sluttywonwoo and @multi-kpop-fanfics mwah mwah

#sluttyhao kinktober #wonwoo smut #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagine #seventeen smut #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop imagine

[vampirevatican]

thinking about being very gentle w/ hobie, just comfort and soothing after a stressful day or he comes back to y'alls shared apartment/flat and he's injured kinda bad but not enough to warrant a hospital visit...

hobie. who is so cool, bold and confident but when it comes to you he melts in your touch.

hobie. the kind of chill, funny, and confident guy to drop that side of him for you and only you; because, you both have been so vulnerable with each other.

hobie. the guy who smiles at the little notes you leave around your shared home. encouraging notes that say ‘fuck em up, freedom fighter’ and ‘try to be safe spiderman’ with little signatures of your name, nickname or pet name he gave you and little doodles of hearts, stars or his spiderman logo.

hobie. who is so grateful to have you, to have someone to confide in. yeah there's pav, but this is different. he understands what ‘gwendy’ was talking about when she spoke a little bit about miles.

hobie. laying on top of you as you rub his back or your hands move around the mass of wicks on his head to scratch at his scalp. hearing the softest hum and him trying to guide you on where to scratch until he says ‘yea, that's the spot.’

hobie. who winces while you disinfect the cuts and wounds he's gotten from his latest political and/or spidey adventure. ‘oh, i know baby. im sorry, it'll only hurt a little bit.’ you say as you first apply rubbing alcohol and then bandage him up. then you call him a good boy or say ‘that's my spiderman’ and he beams

hobie. who holds your hands after you cup his face and he places a kiss in your palm as he says, ‘im fine bird, don' worry 'bout my state.’

hobie. who helps you out as much as you help him. makes you breakfast in the morning before he leaves or if he's not busy he makes breakfast and brings it to you. when you take a bath or shower together he gets behind your ears, your belly button, and helps scrub your back and vice versa. he jokingly says, ‘scratch my back 'n i'll scratch yours’ and you hit him back with a ‘boy, don't we do that anyways’ a little laugh accompanying it.

hobie. who helps you dry off in places you forget after getting clean, but first lotions you up. admiring your brown skin, chuckling at places that seem to shine and glimmer under the light. ‘she ain' seen good treatment in awhile, eh?’ and you're a bit embarrassed but he notices and kisses your forehead, reminding you he's just teasing. if it's night and y'all about to sleep the shower caps get replaced with bonnets.

#.⁠｡⁠*⁠chitchat💭━♡ #.⁠｡⁠*ideas💡━♡ #hobie brown #hobie x black!reader #atsv #hobie brown atsv #hobie fluff #my god #i love me some him

[mariaofdoranelle]

Don’t Hold Your Breath

Rowaelin Month masterlist

@rowaelinscourt

I hate to post this this late, but I had a weekend from hell and this was the only time I could find to finish this fic and post it. I started writing it a while ago, after being overly excited with this prompt by @dailyau and @yellowmagicalgirl

Warnings: none I think? It’s a little Sleeping Beauty-ish

Words: 1,8k

“I can’t say I wasn’t expecting your visit, Rowan.” Maeve drawled, holding the teapot herself to pour them the infusion. “Still, it’s been so long since I last had an old friend over.”

Rowan held his vessel, using his ice magic to cool his tea. Every movement he made was carefully nonchalant. If Maeve sensed a single rise in his pulse, she’d use that against him somehow.

His family was about to start a war against her, after all.

“Our friendship hasn’t been the same since you tried to kill me.” He gave her a sneering grin. “Was Remelle your last attempt? Or did I miss something?”

Maeve’s mask slipped for a second, allowing him to see her glare and the cold fury it held.

Remelle, Maeve’s spy. She barged into Rowan’s room ready to kill him, but now her weapons must be somewhere by the foot of his bed. He was more than ready to get rid of her, but not while she still had information his family could use.

“Straight to the point, eh?” Maeve’s tone was disdainful, her condescending mask slipping back on. “I know you have a message from your clan, just as you know I’ll have to kill you.”

“Will you?”

It took nothing more than a second thought to break the stained glass adorning Maeve’s walls. The wind burst into the stone castle, Rowan’s magic tearing her throne room apart with wind alone, ripping luxurious tapestries with sharp edges of broken glass, making her lackeys in animal form so scared they ran away, leaving their Queen alone.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, while he sipped his tea. It was too sweet, unfortunately. Rowan looked up, observing with no small amount of pride that while he had obliterated Maeve’s throne room, the two of them didn’t have a single hair out of place.

He sipped some more to hide his smug smirk. The amount of power you have is directly proportional to the difficulty you’ll have controlling it. Rowan hadn’t shown off his skills like this in a few decades, but it looked like he was still sharp.

“You know I’ve demolished castles stronger than yours alone.” Rowan’s tone was relaxed, and he leaned back on his armchair. Everything about him portrayed the words he didn’t say: you know you can’t kill me.

Maeve plastered on a strained smile, her jaw clenched. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Just realistic.”

“And I’m assuming I can’t convince you to work with me.”

“I have no need for more money or titles. I’m not turning my back on my family.”

“What about your mate?”

Rowan stiffened, his pulse picked up. He heard it right, Maeve’s knowing smirk wouldn’t be so big otherwise. But she was toying with him, she had to.

He was a prince. He had more money than he could count. He loved his duty as a general. Rowan never, ever thought he’d be so lucky to have a fated mate. There was a limit to what people could be born with, right?

Rowan’s erratic heartbeat and quickened breaths were too loud to hide from Maeve’s Fae ears, and he could barely register her watching him with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“You’re lying.”

“This discovery was an accident. I was looking for her, but the only thing I saw was you.” Maeve drew lazy circles with her finger on the armrest, her smirk predatory. “Let’s say I have unfinished business with her bloodline, but I’m too busy to deal with that now, with your family nagging me all day long.”

“Stay away from her,” Rowan warned, but his voice had a shaky tone that was rare to come out of his lips.

He had a mate, and Maeve was the only way to get to her. Somehow she was wanted by the most vile person Rowan knew, and he had no way to warn or protect—

“We could make a bargain, of course.” Maeve took a sip of her tea. “You could stay out of my way during this war, and we’ll deal with your mate after.”

Abandon his family, and in return receive the greatest happiness ever known to some rare chosen Fae, the ones blessed enough to have a mate. Rowan got up and took a step back, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

Maeve’s smile grew. She knew she had him.

“Do you, Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, accept to be kept away until your lips touch your mate’s?”

He blinked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Did Rowan have any guarantee he’d kiss his mate while being kept away? Mate. What did being kept away entail?

Mate. Rowan had a mate.

But Maeve wanted to kill him, and there would be no mate if he died from blindly agreeing to a bargain.

“That’s some sketchy wording, Maeve.”

She smirked, her darkness surrounding him. “Take it or leave it, Whitethorn.”

He’d have to be kept away, and would only be free when his mate kissed him. Rowan was sure this meantime wouldn’t be comfortable, the same way he knew he wouldn’t know peace until he found his mate, now that he knew he had one.

“I’ll do it.”

And that’s when Maeve’s darkness engulfed him.

~~

“Do I look like a sexy version of Queen Maeve?” Lysandra checked her reflection on her phone and twirled around the renaissance fair’s First Aid Station Aelin was working at.

Using shape-shifting abilities to do cosplays should be considered cheating, but Lysandra’s magic was so rare they didn’t have rules for that.

“I don’t think The Ancient Queen’s dresses had that kind of cleavage, Lys.”

She booed. “The judges will love it.”

“I’m sure they will.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Just take off the fangs and pointy ears.”

“Oh, come on!”

Aelin sighed. Sometimes Lys got so excited with her shapeshifting abilities, she forgot that races aren’t costumes.

“I’m going to expose you on Twitter if you don’t take it off.”

“Fine.” Lys shape-shifted into the exact same form she had before, but without Fae traces. “Do I look good as a human Faerie Queen now?”

“You look amazing. Now go away.”

“Ouch!”

Aelin gave her friend a pointed look. She was on call as the renaissance fair’s nurse, ready to assist the visitors. And instead of enjoying the event, Lys had been at the same dull place, chatting with Aelin for hours.

The stone castle was open for visitors for the first time after being unused for 400 years, the fair being in its gardens while people took guided tours inside. Aelin thought it was cool at first, but now she felt an unusual tug in her chest every time she came to work.

All she knew was that Prince Rowan Whitethorn’s disappearance was the last straw to start the war that killed Queen Maeve, 400 years ago.

The Royal Family made sure Prince Rowan was remembered, but Aelin always wondered why they kept Maeve’s castle closed for so long. Until she felt that strange tug in her gut.

Aelin!

The shout came as a warning before Ress, from the security team, barged into the First Aid Station.

“There’s an unconscious body inside the castle.”

Aelin jumped from her seat, grabbed her medical bag and hopped on the golf cart waiting for her. It wasn’t as fast as an ambulance, but the faster a four-wheeled vehicle could go inside an event like this.

“Did you call an ambulance?”

As qualified as Aelin was, there was only so much she could do outside of a hospital.

“A visitor did,” Ress replied, “but you can get there faster.”

After a small ride and two long sets of stairs, Aelin didn’t find a patient, but the crowd that gathered around one. Ress pushed them aside to let her inside the room, and she thanked Mala the security team had kept the visitors away from the patient.

Tending for an unconscious person with a crowd was chaotic, to say the least.

Aelin ran the patient’s way, kneeling by his side. He must be a cosplayer, given the clothes.

Lysandra gasped near her. “You need to save him. He’s too hot to die!”

Aelin stiffened. “What are you doing here?” she snapped while checking the male’s pulse. Or lack thereof.

Ress raised both hands in surrender. “She was with you for so long, I thought she was a patient under observation!”

Aelin rolled her eyes and started the compressions, the heel of her palm against his sternum in the rhythm of the song inside her head. He. Got. My. Heart. Beat. Skipping. Down. 16th. Avenue.

“Which Whitethorn do you think he’s cosplaying?” Ress asked Lysandra in the background.

“I don’t know,” her friend replied, “they all look the same to me.”

After thirty seconds of CPR, she pinched the male’s nostrils closed, sealing his open lips with hers to give him a mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

When she placed her hands to restart the chest compressions, she felt his rib cage expanding.

Unconscious Hottie was breathing. Aelin’s shoulders dropped in relief.

In a matter of seconds, his breathing was normal. Way too strong, considering his previous state. His eyes blinked way too fast.

A recovery this quick could only mean his blackout was caused by magic.

Aelin left the CPR position and sat by his side, just helping him be more comfortable while the male came back. If he still needed medical assistance, only a magical healer could help him now.

“My mate,” he breathed.

The Fae slowly sat up with Aelin’s support, but he didn’t seem to mind his own fragile state. His eyes were blown wide, aimed at her, his breath ragged.

"How long hath I waited for thee, my soul’s mate?" the silver-haired Fae asked with a desperate, longing gaze.

Aelin was kneeling by his side, her mouth hanging open. God, this cosplayer was good. But how did he get back to his role so fast? People can’t fake their heartbeat stopping, right?

“Hey, is everything alright?” She squeezed his shoulder. “What happened? Did someone poison you?”

The male didn’t answer her. Instead, despite his weak limbs after the incident, he kneeled before Aelin. He bowed his head and raised the sword strapped to him with both hands, the same way people were portrayed making vows in very old paintings.

“As a prince of grace and dignity, I, Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, doth pledge to thee my love, my sword, and my service, from this day forth. Even when this world is forgotten, a mere whisper of dust between the stars, I shall hold thee dear in my love."

Holy rutting Mala.

Aelin’s mouth fell open, a wave of coldness spreading from her core and numbing her thoughts. She was always ready for the unpredictable, but did he… did he just—

“Ae.” Lys cleared her throat. “Did this total stranger just propose to you?”

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

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I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowaelin month #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

[archer-fb]

Sorry for being late with this, I crashed and burned yesterday because of stress and not being able to physically think. Enjoy the needy Muzan~!

Heat, overwhelming heat.

Muzan coughed as smoke filled his lungs, clouding his mind with frustration, his skin feeling hot under the fabric of his clothing. Another failed experiment, another disappointment. What a waste.

Muzan threw his latest attempt at a replication of the blue spider lily aside, leaving the room as if he were never there in the first place, the infinity palace being the last area he wanted to exist in. He felt compelled to appear before you, as he had many times before.

"My lotus." He spoke, voice low, the loving nickname catching your attention, you looking up at your mysterious lover from your western style bed. A smile graced your features.

"My beloved! You're here, it hasn't even been a month, what brings you home?" You asked sweetly, Muzan blinking, heat flushing his blood, your scent clouding his mind. Had you always smelled so delectable?

"I just felt like visiting." Muzan spoke coldly, moving towards you, his head feeling fuzzy, senses dulled. Heat was engulfing his frame, a groan bubbling in his chest as he sat beside you, your hands finding his chest as you smiled up at the demon.

"Truly? Oh, that's marvelous!" You chirped, practically glowing with happiness, Muzan slipping an arm around you and tangling his hand in your hair. You felt cool against his frame. Strange. You normally felt warm against him. Was his suit always this suffocating? Gods, what was happening to him? Everything felt so warm, his pants felt terribly tight, what the hell was this unbearable, unrelenting heat? He barely registered when he started panting, your sweet face looking up at him in confusion, your eyes bringing back flashes of when he last saw you, you having held his legs over your shoulders, plunging into him over and over as he moaned out, a wicked smile on your face. Muzan let out an involuntary whine, feeling his cock twitch to life at the mere thought of you bending him over and fucking him until he couldn't walk properly. You grew concerned, seeing his face flush, beads of sweat forming on his skin until you flicked your eyes downward. "Oh! I see why you stopped by now, bunny." You spoke, honeyed words snapping your lover's attention to you. "Do something." He growled, a dark laugh falling from your lips. "I plan to, you dirty, dirty boy." You purred, pouncing on him not even a second later. And that's how Muzan found himself begging for more, the delicious feeling of being full dulling his senses alongside the electric touch of you stroking his cock in tandem with your thrusts, your breathless laughter tickling his ears as you fucked him. You whispered the dirtiest praise to him, ordering him to keep going, assuring him that you two would be going for a long while. He had several dry orgasms that night.

I fucking love youuuuu

#🏹 archer loves you #glitch <333 #this is so good #goodness #sub muzan #is everything

[ikeromantic]

Hi ya! For your celebration may I suggest Arboretum/ red hot/ wicked Keith ?

This one turned out with a dash of fruitcake, a splash of cocoa, and a bit of spice. Approx 2200 words of Keith being his wicked self! IkePri New Years Event story!

Rare flowers blossomed in profusion beneath the high glass ceiling of the Jadean palace arboretum. The air was hot and damp, the humidity needed to grow the more tropical varietals here. Keith glanced at Emma from the corner of his eye. Her clothes, suited more to the cool climes of Rhodolite, clung to her skin revealing without showing. He found it quite alluring.

Keith grinned and leaned down to whisper, his lips brushing her ear. “You look delectable.”

She nearly jumped at the sudden, unexpected contact. “Keith! Wh-why are you whispering?”

“Should I shout it instead?” He smiled wider as he saw the heat in her cheeks. “Emma is -”

Her finger flew to his lips, her touch soft as butterfly wings. “Oh my god, please don’t.”

Keith laughed and nipped the pad of her finger. “Why not? We’re alone here anyway. I reserved the entire place for this visit.”

“I don’t know. Maybe because if you start shouting, a servant might come? Or a guard?” She frowned at him. 

“And then?” Keith chuckled, grazing the underside of her chin with a curled finger. “What would happen?”

She shrugged, raising her gaze to meet his. “I suppose you’d have to explain it. And I’d be so embarrassed that I’d probably turn red as a tomato. And you would laugh at me.” Her eyes narrowed. “Which would make me angry because it isn’t funny.”

“Mmmm. That’s quite a dangerous expression. I guess I’d better not shout then. But how to get me to stay quiet? I am wicked, afterall. And I do like teasing you.” He eyed her lips the way Luke eyed honey cake. “If only you knew some way to keep my mouth busy . . .”

That brought a little smile out and a sparkle in her eyes. “You are absolutely the worst! Blackmailing me into a kiss when all you needed to do was ask.” 

“Pffft. Asking is for the other Keith. So what will it be? Should I sho-” His words were cut off as she stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss to his lips. But he wasn’t going to let her go with such a light toll. Before she could pull back, he lifted her, hands around her waist, and deepened the kiss.

She gasped against his mouth in surprise, and he took advantage of the opening. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling and teasing. Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair. 

The sharp, pleasure-pain of her tugging fingers wrung a gasp from Keith’s lips as well. A tremor of anticipation and delight ran down his spine. His lips moved from her mouth to the line of her jaw and the satin-softness of her neck. He nipped at the delicate joinder of her shoulder, where he knew she was sensitive. 

“Keith -” she breathed his name, a warning and a temptation in that one short word. 

He drew back, letting her down gently. Her dress was rumpled, the damp silk of the skirt creased from his grip, the collar pushed back from the delicious expanse of her throat. She spent a breath trying to rearrange herself and then gave it up. 

“You shouldn’t grin like that,” she tutted. “You aren’t in any better shape.” Her lips curved in a smile of their own. “I might have messed up your hair . . .” 

Keith smoothed it with his hand, but the wavy mop was a mess. He gave up with a chuckle. “You can fix it for me later.” 

She smiled as he took her hand and they continued walking along the winding arboretum path. The sound of their steps was masked as they approached a water feature tucked into one of the corners. A small stream of water led to a short waterfall and a large, clear pool. This was where the herbalists grew water hawthorn and puffy white blossoms of saggitaria. 

Emma paused at the edge of the wide pond, her gaze lingering over the cool water and the beautiful flowers. “This is beautiful,” she sighed, leaning against him. 

Keith had to agree, though he found the sight of her more lovely by far. Her skin had a damp sheen to it, and he could feel the way his own skin glistened with the humidity here. His lips curled in a sudden, teasing smile. “Are you hot, Emma?”

“Hm? Oh, a little.” She nodded. “I guess you need to keep it pretty warm in here for the plants.” 

He kissed the top of her head as his fingers snagged the tie on her bodice. “A little dip in the pool would cool us both off.” 

Her gaze snapped up to his face, chin tilted up sharply. “Keith, what are you -” the words dissolved into a surprised shout as he tugged the lace undone, already reaching to pull the first row free. “Did you just untie my dress?” 

“No.” He grinned unrepentantly. “I started to untie it. There’s still a whole bunch of lacing to loosen.” Keith undid the first row, his long, graceful fingers moving to the next and the next.

The silk bodice began to loosen, sliding away from Emma’s shoulders. She held it in place with her hand. “Stop! You - you can’t be serious,” she hissed. 

The prince paused, an eyebrow lifted playfully. “You want to swim in your clothes then? I don’t think that’s good for the dress but if you insist . . .” He reached for her waist, lifting her up to her toes as if he would toss her into the pond.

She wriggled in his grasp, her eyes blazing. “Put me down!”

He didn’t, of course. “So you do want to take off your clothes now?”

“I - no! I didn’t agree to swim.” Her frown was adorable. “I plan on keeping my clothes, thank you.” 

“Alright.” He shrugged and swung his arms as if he was about to throw her in. Her squeal of fury was so cute that he wanted to kiss her again. But that might spoil the game. He pulled her tight against him. His lips found her ear and he nipped the curled edge lightly. “Swim with me, Emma. Please?”

She tried to glare at him from the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t hide her pleasure at his touch nor the unsteady excitement his request stirred in her. For a heartbeat, she pretended to consider. Then she took a breath. “Alright. But if anyone comes, I am going to kill you for this.”

“No one will,” he promised. Keith set her down but didn’t release her. His hands moved back to the lacing, tugging the cord loose until nothing held the silk up but the swell of her breasts. His fingers grasped the delicate fringe of the bodice, dragging it slowly down. Caressing her breasts, her belly, her hips, until the heavy silk fell in a pool at her feet. 

He knelt before her, looking up with a hungry gaze. She wore only a linen underdress, the weave so fine and soft that it was a bare wisp to cover her lovely figure. Keith’s hands slid up one calf, stroking up the length of her stocking until he snagged the edge at her inner thigh.

Her breath caught when he slid the stocking down and left a trail of hot kisses across her bared skin.

Keith removed her stockings and shoes, and then reached higher until he felt the delicate lace edges of her panties. He could feel her tense as he tugged them down. “Nervous,” he asked, pressing a kiss to her low belly. 

“A - a little. I just keep thinking we aren’t supposed to be doing this,” Emma admitted.

“That’s why it’s fun.” He kissed a line down her belly to the warmth between her legs. Even through the linen shift, he could feel her heat and softness. His pulse sped as she bit back a breathy moan. He tossed the dainty lace bits to the side where they hung from a thorny vine. 

Now there was just one piece left to remove. The heavy air left the fabric of her undress clinging to her in all the right places. Keith snagged the edge as he rose to stand, and the dress came up with him.

“W-wait!” She tried to push the dress back down. “You’re still dressed!”

“So I am.” He grinned. “You want me to strip first?” At her wary nod, he laughed. “Alright.” Keith kicked off his shoes and socks, and shrugged out of his vest. He hadn’t been foolish enough to wear his jacket into the hot garden. 

Emma’s eyes widened as his hands went to his belt. “Shouldn’t you, um, start with your - ah - your shirt?”

“I think this is fine.” He undid the buckle and pulled the belt from its loops. His pants slipped down to hang off his hip, revealing just a hint of skin. Keith popped the button from the hole and watched her expression as the pants slid a little further, showing a swath of his low belly. Her gaze sent a coiling heat through him. “You know, maybe you’re right . . .”

Her eyes tracked his hands as they moved up to undo the buttons on his shirt. “You are - you are just wicked!”

He laughed, shirt falling open to reveal his chest, his abdomen. Muscled but for a small, soft bit of belly he blamed on his sweet tooth. Keith could feel her eyes on him, a weightless touch that devoured every bit of him that she could see. He knew the look, because it was how he looked at her. 

His shirt slid to the floor and it took only a moment for his pants to follow. It felt good to be free of his clothes, and even better to be naked and so close to the woman he loved. He was so hard that he almost hurt, cock jutting out at a jaunty angle. Her gaze found that too, and she bit her lip. 

“Your turn,” he said. Keith tried to sound playful but the words came out in a low, rolling growl from a hungry place inside him. He stepped close, feeling the hem of her under-dress graze his length. Just that light, accidental touch sent a desperate jolt of excitement through him. 

She swallowed. “Y-yeah. Oh -” Her mouth opened in a breathy gasp as he lifted the linen from her and tossed it to the side. His body pressed tight to hers, sweat-slick and hot from more than the air. 

Keith lifted her and stepped over the edge of the clear pool, into the water. It was deep enough to hit his thighs in the shallows, and would have been nearly to Emma’s waist if she wasn’t draped across his chest, her legs wrapped around his waist. 

He moved deeper, sighing in pleasure as the water lapped higher, all the way to his waist. Then, with a teasing kiss, he sank down into the water, covering them both to their shoulders. 

Emma squealed at the sudden submersion, clinging even tighter to him. “Hey! You’re supposed to warn me!”

“Says who?” He grinned. 

“Says me!” She poked his chest. “You’re always such a tease and I -” Her eyes went wide and she paused mid-sentence as Keith looked over her shoulder toward the arboretum entrance. He pretended a look of horror and surprise, mouthing the words, ‘the king’ silently.

Emma whipped her head around only to see the quiet rows of plants and trees, not a soul besides themselves in residence. 

Keith chuckled at her outraged expression when she turned back to him. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He cupped her hips with his calloused palms. “Forgive me?”

“Nope.” She pushed his head underwater with a grin. 

He came up spluttering in surprise, but she didn’t give him a chance for revenge. Her lips found his with a kiss, her breasts pressed to his chest, her nails drew little lines of fiery pleasure down his upper back. 

Keith groaned into the kiss, trembling with need for her. One of his hands slipped down along her belly, caressing her soft skin, seeking her sensitive places. 

She arched into the touch, breaking their kiss to breathe. The water rippled with their motion, stirring the delicate fronds of the water flowers. Her worries were forgotten in this moment, concern for being caught left behind like her dress at the rocky edge of the pool. 

He loved the way she looked in these intimate moments. Beads of water ran down her skin and caught in her hair. She looked like a wanton queen. A nymph caught in the throes of her passion. Keith felt his heart lurch as her eyes met his, the love and desire in them a torch to light the bonfire between them. 

Then she was away from him, laughing as she sent a splash his way. “Who’s wicked now, hm?” She grinned. 

“So cruel,” he rasped, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

“Am I?” She raised an eyebrow. “If you catch me, I’ll show you how nice I can be.”

He chuckled. “Is that the game then? Alright.” He lunged for her, splashing across the space between them. It was a pretty big pool but not so large that she could escape him for long. And she wasn’t really trying, just splashing him and laughing, right up until he caught her again. 

“Time for revenge,” he grinned. “And I think you’re going to like it.” 

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri keith #keith howell #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #light spice

[katlyn1948]

Look, I honestly don't know where this is going, but I needed to write and this is what I came up with. IDK if this will be something but enjoy it!

The cool brisk metal tickled along the concave between her breasts. The silver chain cascaded through the air as it maintained its clasped position around his neck and the only movement it offered was the rhythmic synchronized motion of his rocking hips. As Gendry thrusted, the silver chain followed and the ring at the end grazed across Arya’s heated skin.

The steady cadences of their mingled breaths reverberated around the room while Arya’s throaty mews shattered the silence. They had been going for hours, completely lost in the euphoric oblivion of each other.

As the sweat began to trickle down Gendry’s chest, Arya couldn’t resist the urge to lap at it with her wanting tongue. His salty taste exploded across her taste buds, garnering a guttural moan from her chapped lips.

Egged on by her pleasurable sounds, Gendry’s pace shifted. What was once a steady metronome became an allegro of heated beats. His fingers dug into her supple skin as his grip tightened along her vivacious waist. His other hand burrowed into the headboard above them, and his brows furrowed as his concentration to rip her over the edge multiplied tenfold.

Arya gasped at the sudden tempo change, from soft and melodic to rough and raucous. She couldn’t keep her nails from digging into the curve of his rounded ass, imprinting him as hers.

Her pleasure was teetering and as he pushed deeper and went hard, she knew it was only a matter of time before she plunged from the precipice and into a shattering oblivion.

As her insides coiled, she clenched, gripping him like a vice and extracting his own reckless abandon, milking him of all he was worth.

His worn body collapsed onto the downy bed beneath him, and he curled his burly arms around Arya’s small frame, pulling her close to his heaving chest. She burrowed her face into the warmth of his embrace and took a deep breath. He smelled of her; their scents mingled together in a wicked dance.

“How long?” she asked, her voice rough from the strain it endured yelling his name.

“An hour before someone starts to notice.” He replied as his fingers tickled the ends of hair that gave way to the middle of her back.

A rigid chill swept across Arya’s spine as she took in the revelation. “When will you be back?”

“Two weeks, if the catch is good. Will you manage?”

No. “Yes.”

“And you?”

Arya sighed and pushed herself from his embrace. She sat up and curled her legs beneath her before resting her head on her waiting knees. She studied him then, letting her eyes roam over the dips and falls of his body. He was a stunning creature with his large shoulders and strong arms and the midnight black of his paired with the ocean blue of his piercing eyes. It's no wonder she kept crawling back.

“No assignment. I’ll be here in the apartment.” Alone.

Gendry chuckled, “You’ll go mad with nothing to do and no one to kill.”

“Maybe I will be able to rid my home of your insufferable scent.” A smile danced across her lips. “Do a bit of deep cleaning.”

“I find that doubtful,” he growled as he snaked his arms around her waist before pulling her back into the safety of his arms.

Arya felt content in the confines of his embrace. Just his presence alone set an ease to the raging sea that stormed her brain. It was such a powerful relief and one she hadn’t had in a long time. But his visits were far and few in between and in just under an hour her thoughts would be scattered once more.

“Be careful out there.” She breathed against his bicep that lay nestled just beneath her head.

She could feel the cascade of kisses he planted down her spine and she couldn’t help the goose flesh that echoed across her skin. “I always am.”

“I know you are, but the sea is a treacherous place. It can be calm and steady one moment and dangerously unforgiving the next. Trust me, I know.”

Her heart ached for the longing of wanting to be at sea. The adventurous side of her craved it. But the accident left her scarred with fear that nearly crippled her every time she set foot on a boat.

Her retirement forced by the hands of fate.

“The boys and I have handled our fair share of anger ocean. We will be fine.” Gendry placed one more kiss upon her shoulder before pulling himself away from her warm bed.

Arya could hear him rummaging for his jeans as she faced away from him, not wanting to see him leave.

“I have to go over checklist today. Davvos left me in charge.” He climbed in behind her, forcing her to face him. “Don’t I always come back?”

She huffed, “Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you in two weeks.” He captured her lips once more before pulling himself from the bed and grabbing his rucksack by the door.

“Gendry?” She said before he had a chance to open the door. “I’ll see you then.”

A smile crept to his face, “I’ll see you then.”

And then he was gone.

And Arya was left alone in her apartment with a dreadful feeling that she pushed to the back of her mind because he always came back.

#arya stark #gendrya #arya/gendry #gendry waters #got #gendry baratheon #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #fanfic #fanfiction

[allvalleyskillschallenge]

November: Loss & Life

From the cooling weather to the turning colors of the leaves, Autumn is a time of transformation and reflection. Of mourning and celebration. It's a bittersweet season; the falling leaves remind us that in the sorrow loss, there is also great beauty in letting go.

Accordingly, the All Valley Skills Challenge theme for November is:

Below, you will find this month's prompts. Our mods have created a series of moodboards, each inspired by a Festival of the Dead from a culture represented in the Karate Kid and Cobra Kai universe. We've also included a short description of the unique traditions of each:

(Moodboards by @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy, @desolateice and @wicked-jade.)

Dia de los Difuntos - Ecuador Celebrated on November the 2nd, and coinciding with All Souls Day, Ecuador's Dia de los Difuntos (Day of the Deceased) is a holiday that combines Catholic tradition with the death rituals of the indigenous Quechua people. On this day, families gather to honor and celebrate the lives of loved ones who have passed away. Traditionally, they visit cemeteries to clean graves and to bring gifts of flowers and food to share with those they've lost. The belief is that the food will help give souls strength for their journey to the afterlife. Stalls selling guaguas de pan (bread babies - a sweet bread piped with colorful icing, shaped to resemble a doll or baby) and colada morada (a thick, dark purple corn drink, served hot) line the streets, along with vendors selling other treats and grave decorations. In rural areas, it is common for families to dress in their finest clothes and share a picnic together in the cemetery. The festivities also often include carnivals and parades.

Kyu-Bon (Obon) - Okinawa/Japan The Obon Festival, also called Kyu-Bon in Okinawa, is celebrated throughout both Okinawa and Japan. While the holiday is based on the solar calendar in mainland Japan, in Okinawa, it follows the lunar calendar. This means it can fall anywhere from mid-July to early September. Always starting on a Monday, the celebration lasts for three days. It is customary for Okinawans from all over to Japan to return to their hometowns, in order to observe the holiday with their families. On the first day (Unke), families hang glowing lanterns outside and leave their doors and windows open, to guide and welcome the spirits of their ancestors home. They also leave offerings such as sugarcane sticks and uchikabi paper (money for the afterlife) on the family altar. On the second day (Nakanuhi), families prepare food, visit other relatives homes, and exchange gifts. The final day (Ukui), is a time for feasting, celebrating, and sharing stories. Prayers and goodbyes are said before sending the spirits back to the afterlife. Food, handwritten notes, and uchikabi paper are placed in a large bowl as a gift for the ancestors. The contents are then burned, so the spirits can take the offerings with them when they go. Over the course of the festival, colorfully clad Eisa dancers march through the streets, entertaining both the crowds and the spirits by dancing, chanting, drumming, and playing folk songs on the sanshin.

Chuseok - South Korea Celebrated on the full moon of the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar for about a 3 day holiday. People return home bearing gifts, visit and clean grave sites, and share a feast. Parts of these feasts include songpyeon (a type of colorful rice cake), types of Hangwa like the honey cookie yakgwa, fruit, baekju (a type of alcohol), jeon (savory pancakes), japchae, bulgogi and more. Food will also be set out at a in-home memorial for the ancestors and those who've passed. Games are played like Yut Nori, as well as sports like Ssireum (a type of wrestling), and Taekkyon (a type of martial arts). There is also a dance, Ganggangsullae.

All Souls Day (Il Giorno Dei Morti) - Italy Also coinciding with All Souls Day, Il Giorno Dei Morti is the Italian Day of the Dead. While November 1st (All Saints Day) is the day to honor the Catholic saints, November 2nd is reserved for honoring dearly departed loved ones. On this day, families flock to cemeteries in order to pay their respects to the dead by lighting candles and laying flowers - customarily, bouquets of chrysanthemums - on their graves. In Sicily and other parts of southern Italy, parents will hide small gifts, such as toys, sweets and Pupi ri Zuccaru (sugar puppets) around the house for their children to find. The children are then told that the gifts were left for them by their deceased relatives, who came to visit them in the night. Traditional foods vary from region to region. Pan dei morti (bread of the dead) is consumed in almost every part of the country. Other treats include Frutta di Martorana (marzipan sweets from Sicily), and Ossa dei morti (bones of the dead - crunchy, almond-flavored cookies that are shaped to resemble bones.)

You will have one month from today to create and submit fanworks inspired by this theme. This is your chance to show off your creative skills, whatever they may be. From writing, to art, to everything in between. Our goal is to encourage all forms of creative expression within the TKK/CK community. All pairings and ratings are welcome.

This round will officially close on Monday, November 30th at noon, CST, so if you would like for us to share your works, make sure to submit them before the deadline. Tag us @allvalleyskillschallenge and #allvalleyskillschallenge, to make it easier for our mods to find and reblog your works!

We’ve also created an AVSC Collection on ao3, if you would like to add your works there. We highly recommend that artists who wish to share uncensored, NSFW content do so on ao3, to avoid violating tumblr’s guidelines.

Please check out our FAQ for more details. If you have any further questions, feel free to contact us at @allvalleyskillschallenge, our asks are open.

#allvalleyskillschallenge #avsc: november 2023 #theme: loss and life #the karate kid #cobra kai #fandom events #announcement

[azaarchiive]

holiday girlfriend; semi eita

chapter four

- daddies home

note: guys i’m so sorry 🤣 i’ve litch been trapped in the wicked a level scheme that i completely forgot. i’ll try to do a double update as an apology

it has only been a day and your head was swirling with all the possibilities that could uncover itself if you chose to live with semi.

on the one hand, that man had money. you would be thoroughly supported if you were to stay with him. you wouldn’t need to work and it’s not as if semi would mind spending heaps amounts of money.

on the other hand, he left once, he could very much leave again due to stress, him getting bored, ex-girlfriend drama and the list goes on. he hurt you in ways you could have never even imagined. going back to him, even for support, would feel like you are cheating yourself.

not to mention, leaving a whole country - your homeland to be exact - would be extremely difficult. despite how lonely you are here with your low paying job, lack of friends or supportive relatives (after they found out about the pregnancy, they shunned you for being unmarried with a child at 24 with no father figure) it was still home to you in some twisted way.

you sat sluggishly on the couch, watching some crappy reality tv show that for some reason has captured your attention when the door bell rung.

“daddy’s home!” an all too familiar voice rang through, too be fair it could only be semi eita since (as mentioned prior) you had no one that visited you.

“don’t call yourself that” you rolled your eyes as you got up slowly, hand rubbing your stomach instinctively, to open the door for the musician himself.

as you opened the door, semi’s wide smile was displayed while he clutched onto a very extravagant bouquet of glittered roses. a basket of various sweets and chocolates were in his other hand, the basket enticed you a lot more.

“as the dutiful father i am-“

“you ran away once i told you i was pregnant-“

“minor details honey, anyways, i decided to treat you!” semi let himself into your house to put down his treats for you.

“oh wow, thank you for these gifts that clearly match up to the 6 months i spent carrying your daughter.” you sighed before digging into the basket he placed on your table.

“she’s a girl?” he replied all to quickly, his eyes darting between your face and your bulging stomach.

“oh, yeah.” you casually said, sitting down on your couch as you pulled your slipping bonnet down slightly.

semi’s eyes swirled with what you think was regret, he obviously knew that’s he missed quite a bit in terms of this pregnancy but fuck- he didn’t even know the gender of the baby till now.

remorse slightly took over you, it must be hard coming from japan to here only to see that everything that was once one thing has completely inverted into something else unrecognisable. then again, if he stayed then he could’ve been a part of this- he could’ve been recognisable.

“anyways, you’ve given your gifts. feel free to leave” you broke the awkward silence.

“hold up sweetheart-“

“respect yourself-“

“let’s catch up a little, in case you choose not to come live with me, then i want to at least know what state you’ll be in.” semi smiled, sitting across you on the opposite couch.

why is he so hard to get rid of?

“so yeah, that’s why i was beefing jungkook for a bit, but we cool now i just got off a call with him for a collab’ idea.” semi popped a price of chocolate in his mouth whilst you looked at him in disbelief.

you knew semi was the type of guy that got into heaps of scandals without a care in the world but wow. the stories he was telling were beyond your wildest imagination.

“what is wrong with you?” you chuckled.

“excuse me- for your information, it was him who started it by copying my music video!” semi huffed childishly which caused you to snort.

“oh my god, did i tell you about mika?” he rushed out.

“nope but if it’s about one of your sex scandals, then i certainly do not want to hear it.” you rolled your eyes.

“oh not in the slightest, so basically, i had posted a video of someone doing my makeup and nails for jokes, right? the whole of japan was hating on me, calling me disgusting for ‘acting gay’ and whatnot. then, i made a little rap that was practically talking about my fat ass. it started trending online then everyone told me to release it. so i released an album in my alter ego mika talking about sucking dick and shit and titled it ‘pissing off japan’ and it charted to the point where i won a grammy for it.” semi burst out into laughter seeing your shocked expression.

“so you had a whole country against you and you still won a grammy?” you raised an eyebrow.

“what can i say? im one of a kind” he winked at you before biting down in his chocolate piece. you bashfully looked away, you sometimes forget how truly attractive this man is.

“anyways, enough about me, what about you?” semi asked, looking at you expectantly.

you dreaded this question, you truly had nothing. the most exciting thing you’ve done while he was away was discover a new imessage feature that you couldn’t even use since your phone was dryer than your bosses hands.

and they were extremely dry.

“nothing, sadly, i have no stories to tell you.” you sighed.

“oh come on, there has to be something that has happened since i’ve left!” semi tried to pry.

“i’m serious, i mean- oh! i found out how to make the tv louder, because basically it used to always be so quiet until recently i’ve discovered that there is two speakers and it was connected to the wrong one- why are you laughing this is literally the highlight of my life?” you slightly chuckled along with semi who was loudly cackling.

“i’ve got abs- oh my god, i can’t breathe?” semi calmed down his laughter soon enough.

“wait so there has been nothing interesting? at all?” semi questioned once again.

“nothing, why do you think that when we used to fuck i would be so silent when you were talking about your life? you were the most interesting thing happening for me, not like i could tell anyone anyways.” you pitifully sighed.

“wait, you didn’t even tell your friends about me?” semi looked at you confused.

“are these said friends in the room with us? eita, you were my one and only friend, i truly had -well have- no one.” you said nonchalantly.

“don’t say that, everyone has at least one person.” semi replied.

“no eita, not everyone, only the lucky do. if you don’t believe me check my phone, i only have like 7 contacts and 4 of them are for work.” you handed semi your phone.

semi looked though your contacts and you were completely right, 4 of them were random names and the other three was ‘mother’ ‘father’ and ‘cousin.’

“then you must be close with your family right?” semi asked desperately, he couldn’t bare to think that he left you all alone with absolutely no one beside you out of his own selfish fears.

“not really, we used to talk once in a while but after they found out i was pregnant they completely cut all contact since it was out of wedlock and the father wasn’t present. so, it’s just been me and my little one.” you patted your belly smiling fondly while you looked down, you truly couldn’t wait to meet her.

semi looked at you distraught. he couldn’t imagine a life like yours, alone with no help at all, family members deserting you, it seemed terrible. to top it off, the one person you thought would be with you left without ever looking back.

“stop looking at me like that, i get it isn’t idea but it is peaceful. no friendship dramas or unnecessary interactions between family members. just us two against the world- swear that’s the name of your album?” you asked mindlessly.

“yes, actually it is- wait you still listen to my music?” semi’s head tilted to the side.

“well not me specifically, this little one does. i heard that it’s good for babies to listen to music so i thought that she should at least hear what her emo ass dad sounds like- she really likes it and starts kicking around when she listens to you.” you giggled.

semi was truly speechless, all this time he had been barely thinking about you and his daughter. going in tours, starting random drama while you had been adulting all by yourself. looking after the two of you despite all odds being against you.

“please move in with me-“

“eita please-“

“no seriously, this is not fair at all. look at how you have been managing, don’t get me wrong your doing amazing but you’re all alone.” semi pleaded.

“and what, when i move to japan ill suddenly have 100 friends and my family will love me? eita, it’s just not fair that you get to come here and decide everything here is unfit to your liking when you haven’t been around for two thirds of your daughters development.” you stated calmly

semi then got onto his knees and crawled in front of you, propping himself onto your knees.

“bro, get the hell up-“

“y/n l/n, i understand i don’t deserve you but you deserve to be spoiled. you deserve a solid support system, the best of the best food and pampering and to be showered with happiness and care. surprisingly enough, i can provide all of that for you and then some. please think about my baby girl, think about how she would want to know her father-“

“who walked out semi? not me. don’t bring my child into this as a way to guilt trip me into coming to japan. i’ve heard of all the stories- the way they treat foreigners and all- why should i put myself through that for you?”

“it’s not for me but for you y/n, for her. you know i have more money than i know what to do with and i would spend it all on you, for you. i fucked up, 100 percent but allow me to make amends, baby? please?” semi’s eyes were brimming with tears, you honestly never lived to see the day that would happen. to say you weren’t the slightest bit happy would be a lie.

to be frank, the pros outweigh the cons. it’s mostly your pride stopping you from going, however, you do agree that your baby has a right to know her father as well as be taken care of by him. if she likes his music, then she sure hell is going to love him when she pops out. semi is very on brand with his online ‘persona.’

“… fine, only for my daughter. you better act right because one wrong move and i will come right back to (country) in an instant.” semi jumped up with excitement and immediately started hugging you tightly.

“calm down, your gonna squeeze your daughter to death!” you struggled to get out as you slapped his back manically.

“oh im so sorry, im just so excited. i swear im going to treat you so well! i just can’t wait to show you japan! oh you can see tokyo, my favourite restaurant, oh my god you get to meet my friends and you have to meet my therapist! we are gonna do everything together!” semi cuddled up next to you as he laid his hand on your belly, rubbing it comfortingly.

“is it too late to back out now?” you muttered and he nodded his head frantically and giggled.

it was cute seeing how excited he was to take you to japan, you just hoped japan itself carried that same energy for you.

#haikyuu #authors #black reader #haikyuu semi #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu x you #semi eita #pregnancy #semi eita x reader #hq x reader #post timeskip #musican!semi

[akwolfgrl]

Lft 28

Zoro yawned as he walked down the street. The sex stuff from last night tucked into his haramaki. He had been disappointed that he had been unable to convince curly to slip back into bed this morning.

He wondered the streets until he came across a swordsmith. Zoro still had some belli leftover from Nami. As he stared at the expensive sword hanging in the window, he bemoaned the fact he had lost two of his swords to Mihawk.

“All the good swords are so fucking exspincvie,” He cursed. “I have to find a way to get some money,” he couldn't go to the grandline with just one sword.

“I'll loan you the money Zoro, with three hundred percent interest of course,” He could practically hear the witch cackle, see her wicked smug grin.

Zoro shook his head to dispell the images he had conjured of thire ships navigater. Asking Nami would be his last resort, or eles he would be in debt to her for the rest of his life. Maybe he could try and find a bounty or two, this was like Nami said, this was a place to stock up before heading to the Grandline. This might be his best bet at getting enough for new swords. After all, he didn't have bounty on his own head yet. He wasn't going to steal it. He wasn't a thief, unlike Nami. Zoro would be caught immediately.

<>

Luffy was lost again. He knew he'd find gallows eventually. He just needed to make it back to the bar from yesterday. The old guy with all the cool stories said today was he last day, so he had to visit anyway. Thire was something dude yelling somewhere nearby.

“I'm here at the docks, but where's the exusion platform,” Luffy spotted a large man with grey hair, two smoke trals above his head, that was twice as much as Sanji! “Hey can you help me?” He walked tworss them. “do you know where thire exucate people?”

“The platform,” the man in the big coat replied, his cigars stuck in his mouth, how he and sanji did it he would never know.

“Yah I know, but I can't seem to find it,” He told him, looking around in the hope of a big sign to lead his way.

“I haven't seen you around here before,”

“Yah it's my sconed day here. The town is so much bigger than Foosha village, I just can't seem to find my way around here,”

“Why are you going to the platform?” The man asked.

Luffy looked up from behind the brim of his hat. What a silly question. “A personal quest of mine,” He answered. “To see where the king of the pirates died,” Why eles would anyone go thire? “I guess you don't know,” Oh well, Luffy would find his way evetly he began to walk away.

“Hold it,” Luffy turned around to look back at the man. “just follow the smoke kid,” The cigar smoke was no long spiraling upwards but to the side. It was really cool. Maybe he could ask Sanji later if he could do that!

“Great! That way? I'll see you later!” With that, Luffy ran off.

#one piece #fanfic #lust filled thoughts #roronoa zoro #zoro #luffy #monkey d luffy