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#lord forgive me i’m thinking about them.
tojancy · 12 days
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‘ Earned it ’ ft. r.sukuna
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haunted by jujutsu sorcerers, you come to Sukuna for help. after begging to work under him, he agrees. what could the King of Curses possibly have in store for you..?
ɞ⁺ contains: heian era!sukuna x curse user! fem!reader, afab!reader, four arms sukuna, degradation, praise, cussing, riding, choking, hair pulling, mean sukuna, mentions of killing, mentions of blood, making out, unprotected sex, creampie, suggestion of overstim
ɞ⁺ w.c: 3.6k
ɞ⁺ note: thank you to my favorite @sttoru for beta reading! this took forever. hope you enjoy!
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“Couldn’t you just kill her?”
What?
Standing before you is a man that embodies terror—a tremendous body and another pair of arms to make him even more distinct. The name Ryomen Sukuna is a chilling one, so many stories embellished around it. Hearts tremble with fear of each fable. You have heard of all his atrocities, cruelties sorcerers were subject to. But, as you stand in his presence, you begin to realize that these tales barely scratch the surface of his menace.
Adults employed his name to compel sleep, a whispered threat to coax children into slumber. You were no exception, truly. But you were always fierce, a soul unafraid. 
Right. That’s what got you into the mess you’re in right now.
“I’m sorry, my lord. But if that’s your wish, then I shall go ahead and-”
“No-! Wait… please,” you surprise even yourself, words spill forth at their own accord. Your throat grows dry at the way both of them turn to look at you. struggling to maintain composure, you implore, “Please, just one chance. I promise I can make myself useful. I’d do anything. Anything.”
An amused chuckle thunders in Sukuna’s chest. It’s a cruel sound, imposing fear upon your senses. “And.. what exactly makes you think a meek sorcerer like you could be of any use to me?”
He’s almost offended by the notion. Sukuna is in need of no one. Especially not you; a sorcerer that came begging for his help. How ridiculous.
“I-I’m a first grade!” you exclaim, “I can do so many things, I-”
“Shut it.” The nearly-amused expression has been dropped, a somber tone to replace that. Your eyes widen immediately, a telltale sign of the terror you feel. “You are a weak sorcerer. You are nothing. Do you have any argument to make?”
“No, my lord,” your eyes meet the floor in a hard glare, cursing your misfortune. 
You came to Uraume with hope, recalling a past acquaintance. You had not anticipated the drastic change in her. Standing against jujutsu sorcerers was no wise choice. You found yourself haunted down with no other choice.
Perhaps finding a protector would help—someone whom all sorcerers fear, compelled by their dread to leave you unharmed. None other than the King of Curses himself. If you devoted yourself to his service, showing unmatched loyalty, maybe then he’d protect you.
If only life is so forgiving.
You believed Uraume could help. You convinced yourself that alignment with Sukuna's subordinate could forge a safer path for protection. For safety. Yet, the last outcome you could have predicted was a suggestion for your execution.
“Good,” is his sole utterance. Uraume stands a few feet away, silent unless addressed. 
Even with your eyes cast down, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes surveying you, the weight of four eyes is not an easy one. His gaze is empty, one of menace. You do not appear weak, though relative to him you certainly are. However, he trusts Uraume's judgment, convinced there must be a valid reason for your presence.
“I’ll…  think about it,” You hear. Your head lifts abruptly, disbelief mingling with hope at the prospect of succor etched on your face. A sigh escapes you, looking at his hard features. Despite your awareness that Sukuna's motives lack benevolence or goodwill, you grasp at any opportunity presented.
“Thank you,” your knees buckle beneath you. Tears of relief flood your eyes as you continue. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You can flee now,” he replies curtly. You weren’t expecting much more anyway. “Uraume, lead her out.”
The curse user complies, leading you from the chambers of the King of Curses. Reaching the exit, you extend a hand toward Uraume before she returns inside.
“Th-thank you…” You muster.
“I’m not the one you’re to thank,” Her gaze is hard as ice,  empty as one’s could be. You were hoping for some warmth, a semblance of assurance in a world so cruel. But who were you kidding; you held no significance to Uraume, who had long forsaken her humanity to serve solely the King of Curses. “Lord Sukuna has the highest authority over your life right now. Don’t screw your chances.”
The door slams in your visage before you can reply. You swallow. Uncertainty begins to bubble into you. What if he changes his mind? What if this was some kind of ruse? 
But it wasn’t, and not too long later you find yourself in Sukuna’s chambers. You hear he’s beaten yet another jujutsu sorcerer, this one remarkable. It’s a surprise to no one. You hope you’re not next.
You’re even given a room to yourself, one you barely leave unless for food. The concept of running into Sukuna terrifies you. 
A loud knock comes from the sliding door, making you flinch. You hasten to it, crouching before the wooden barrier. Your palms lay flat against the surface as you slide it open with ease. Uraume towers above you, her gaze fixed.
“Lord Sukuna requires your immediate attendance,” she tells you.
“I-I’ll be right there,” your breath falters, looking up at the white-haired woman. Uraume stands still. You realize she’s only waiting for you to gather yourself and accompany her. 
You’re quick to oblige, standing up and trying your best to dispel the embarrassing fear displayed over your features. With swift movement, you grab your kosode’s belt and wrap it tightly around your middle. You stand before Uraume, who looks you up and down before simply turning around and walking, expecting you to keep up. 
Anxiety plagues you, your mind racing with all the possibilities of what reason Sukuna would summon you. You’re so preoccupied that you don’t realize Uraume's route isn’t the same one you took to his chamber last time.
Sooner than you anticipate, Uraume takes an abrupt halt by a door. You nearly collide face-first with the finely painted wood. Recoiling, your eyes study the door. Patterns adorn the wood, carved carefully by the hands of a professional. 
The detail on the door captivates you, it makes you wonder if Sukuna has truly observed it even once in his life. Your appreciation of it is short-lived, as Uraume calls you and pulls you out of thought.
“Pay attention or face expulsion,” she hisses before knocking at the door.
A grunted “You may enter,” resonates from inside. The curse user beside you immediately falls to her knees, and you follow path. Her hands lift to the door, which weighs more than yours, and she opens it with a fluid gesture.
“She has arrived, my lord.”
“Very well,” Sukuna utters. Emboldened, you look up, and the sight you’re met with makes your face heat up. There he sits, expression unyielding and gaze inscrutable, his torso is bare—save for the black marks that adorn his chiseled body. On any other day, you would have stopped to admire the sight, but today your eyes go back to staring at your bent knees. “Come in.”
Uraume knows she’s not the one intended, while you know that you are. With great force, you’re capable of pushing yourself up and walking toward the man sitting on the floor.
The door shuts as soon as you step foot into the room, making you flinch. “W-How can I help you, my Lord?”
Quietly, Sukuna hums in thought. His scrutiny of you, trailing to your feet and then meeting your eyes once more, kindles a patent tension within. There’s a sick, twisted desire within you—a desire for the man who would kill you without second thought.
“You said you can do many things, have you not?” He raises a single eyebrow. 
“Indeed, my lord,” You muster. The chamber you stand in is spacious, slowly realizing that you are within his personal quarters—a place few may enter, as you understand it.
“Let’s test that out, shall we?” he says with a sinister smirk. “Do you know how to relieve muscle tension?”
“Certainly, my lord. Do you need any assistance with that?” You speak a little more than necessary. But he doesn’t mind too much. Your vocal cords make a soothing voice anyway. 
“I’d like to see what you're capable of,” he states, malice evident in his tone, prompting you to brace for the potential consequences.
He gestures for you to approach the curtained futon, elevated on what appears to be several stacks of wood. It feels peculiar to see him prone on his stomach, but it affords you an unmatched view of his well-defined back—truly a sight to see.
Whether he trusts you or deems you harmless remains uncertain. Common sense suggests the latter, though you prefer to believe the former to spare yourself from embarrassment.
A small bottle sits beside his bed, a bottle of fine oil. With refined movement, you pick it up, spilling a fair amount on your hand before spreading it gently over his back.
You work silently, kneading hardened flesh. His unique anatomy intrigues you, especially navigating around two sets of arms. Your fingers continue to glide between the muscles, working your way into easing any knots.
Once your fingers reach his neck, a low grunt leaves his lips. You’re surprised… But even more so, the feeling lingering deep within you is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Your thighs squeeze against each other in hopes of relieving some of the heat that’s itching at your core. 
With every stroke of your skilled fingertips, the tension threaded in his muscles ease, all the while the tension between the two of you grows unbearably palpable. 
After a few moments, you grow hot. you pause and slightly loosen the belt of your kosode to cool down. The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna, who peeks upwards subtly. He has no shame, raising his head further and looking you up and down. The loosened kosode exposes cleavage, and Sukunua overtly stares.
He pushes himself up, sitting on the bed. Shadows of his frame dance against the curtains surrounding his bed, the room dimly lit by candles. Posture straight, an expression of attendance on your face, you keep your eyes on him and await what he has to say. 
You’re dangerous, Sukuna realizes. You’re not going to make this easy on him. His self-restraint is wearing thin.
“Sit,” He beckons you with a large hand. Albeit hesitant, you oblige and sit on the lifted futon in an awkward position.
There is no denying the way his gaze makes you feel. There’s a sense of vulnerability, and a sense of excitement. You choose to remain silent, waiting patiently for his next move. 
Slowly, he leans his head in your way. Your eyes immediately flit away, heat rising into your face.
“Heh,” He smirks widely, leaning away. “You’re quite amusing, you know that?”
You grow embarrassed, displeased by the way he’s talking. You’re about to comment but ultimately choose to stop yourself from saying something that could get you in trouble.
Sukuna leans forward again, this time a little further from you. The hand he places on the bed for balance dips the fabric down. “Look at me when I address you, human.”
It’s humiliating how he talks to you. For some inexplicable reason, it arouses you all the same. You’re quick to oblige. Sukuna can feel his cock harden in his pants at the way you bat your lashes his way. He knew there was something so enticing about you the moment he saw you walking behind Uraume, even more now under the dim lights and in the revealing silk. He wants a piece of you.
Cancel that. He wants all of you.
“You have a pleasing appearance,” He tells you, eyes instinctively falling to your lips. “A fine figure too. Why don’t you put that to good use, hm?”
“What would you suggest, my lord?” You rouse. “I’m at your service.”
Sukunas face draws closer to yours once more. A single hand rises to your face, cradling your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “Interesting… You’re not dumb, are you?”
There’s a clear implication behind his words; take the hint, or don’t. You take a leap of faith, diminishing the space between your faces and pressing your lips firmly against his.
The hand that once held your face now rests on your neck, holding you in place. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, prompting you to give him entrance. He keeps his eyes open, watching over you with amusement you fail to see as your eyes are shut close.
Your mouth is warm and inviting, compelling him to savor every bit of the fiber inside. But he’s interrupted by you pulling away for air.
“Fucking brat,” he curses, pulling you back in before you can gasp another much-needed breath. His palm falls from your neck and skims the skin of your shoulder. In contrast to his typical demeanor, Sukuna’s movement is agonizingly slow as he pushes the cloth off your skin. Little by little, until your torso is exposed to the biting chill of the air, shivers cascade along your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your flesh.
Adrenaline rushes through your veins. Your heart throbs as your hands find his neck, the other on his shoulder. Closer. Your tongues dance, and the taste of you is addicting. Closer. His hands run over your bare skin, feeling up your curves. Closer. Nothing seems to be close enough. You need to be one with him.
Once content, Sukuna pulls away. The smirk on his face is enough reminder you’ve got nothing on him. “You’re weak.”
“‘M not,” you retort stubbornly, struggling to regain your breath. “You caught me off guard.”
“Yeah, right,” Sukuna’s hands fall to your hips. You would have never foreseen a scenario where you contest his words. Not without your head cut off before you completely utter your words. But this brazen attitude of yours is exciting to Sukuna, who can feel the pre staining his pants, cock now painfully hard. Just from kissing.
He maneuvers you with ease, leaning comfortably against the wall before placing you over his middle. You gasp once moved, eyes wide in surprise. You give no signs of struggle, though, so Sukuna continues.
Starting with the loosened belt, then the silk kosode. You’re bare under, left exposed to four eyes’ devouring gaze.
“Heh,” is what he says, feeling your wetness against his abdomen. “Is the wanted criminal so needy already? How sweet.” 
“I’m quite sure you share the desire, my lord,” you whisper, drawing a chuckle from him. You bend forward until your face hovers tantalizingly close to his ear.“Do you not want a taste of me, my lord? I can show you what no woman has ever done.”
While the title ‘my lord’ has come from many to him, it rolls off your tongue differently. You’re so confident in your skills, and he has a feeling you’re not lying.
“I very much doubt that,” he lies, causing you to pucker your lower lip in disdain. You’re set on proving him wrong, prepared to showcase the extent of your capabilities.
Lifting your weight from his form, you turn around and give him your back. He stares down at you, an amorous grin adorning his face. Delicately, you trace your fingers over the prominent bulge in his pants. There is no mistaking the grunt that escapes him at the contact. The bulge largens. The tension grows. You swallow quietly.
“May I?” You whisper, barely audible.
“By all means,” he responds, his smirk persisting despite the furrow in his brow. Tender fingers slip beneath the waistband of his pale trousers, gradually coaxing them downward.  
The sight makes you stop in your tracks; his cock springs to life, a lengthy shaft you’re not so sure you can take. The thought of going back on your words fleets momentarily across your mind, but you refrain. There’s svelteness to the way your fingers graze this tip, tinted with an angry pink. You spread the warm pre-cum over it for lubrication, softly pumping your hands over his shaft.
Surprise intensifies in you when it grows larger, making your insides churn. Your fingers continue their work, eliciting louder sounds from him.
You’re fascinated by it, a beautiful length framed by trimmed pubes. It starts with a color marginally darker than his skin, gradually merging into the angry pink hue that tints his tip. You can’t not stare.
You turn back around, looking at the man sitting before you. The King of Curses with all his mind with a troubled expression, his resolve long worn off.
“You’re taking too long,” He threatens. “Get on it already, woman.”
No less is expected from the King of Curses; he’s straightforward as one could be. A yelp escapes your lips when his hands land a firm grip on your hips, forcefully lifting you up.
You’re placed on his length without any warning, causing a loud cry to break out of you. Tears gather in your eyes at the sudden stretch. You feel him, all of him; thick and long and painful and good.
Drawing a sharp breath, you attempt to adjust to the stretch.
“Can’t take it?” His smirk taunts you. “Pathetic.” 
“I-I can,” you steady yourself with two palms against the curves of his abs. “Let me get- ah–!”
Your moan synchronizes with the groan he emits, his hands maintaining a firm grasp on your ass cheeks as he lifts you upwards for friction before abruptly slamming you back down. The way your gummy walls wrap tight around him nearly makes him dizzy. Sukuna is almost sure this pussy was made for him and only him.
“Fuck–” he grunts, head thrown back as you move steadily. His hand grabs your waist for guidance as you huff and puff, trying not to be too loud but it’s so hard when he hits all the right places. Your heart thrums in your chest, body shaking at the euphoria that’s clouding your senses.
There’s rhythm to the sounds of breathing, creating a symphony of pleasure as you roll your hips, pace fastening every second. Sukuna’s hand is light against your hip, a thumb extending to rub your clit in a gentle manner, drawing circles over the soft bud.
“Oh– M’lord– I’m..” words bleed into moans you can no longer contain. Every thrust hits deeper, and every movement makes you squeeze tighter around his cock. Your eyes roll back, and Sukuna swears he could get off to your expression alone. 
When a cold grip meets the writ of one of his lower arms, Sukuna’s eyes flee your face in curiosity. His hand is heavier than you expect. You softly raise his palm, desperately leaving it at your neck.
He chuckles. He loves the desperation in your eyes, the way your hips thrust sloppily, the way you claw at his chest for a symbol of control as you try your best to stay true to your words. Warm digits wrap around your neck and squeeze it lightly. 
“C’mere,” he breathes, pulling you by your neck. Your lips clash into his with a gasp. God, you’re intoxicating him. Teeth tug at your bottom lip despite your mouth being agape. The moan that escapes you is happily drank down by him.
Humidity clouds the place, shiny sweat dripping down your neck. You’re in too much ecstasy to think anyway.
Sukuna sucks at your bottom lip, his hand moving from your neck to cradle the back of your head then tug at your hair.
You’re magic, the sight of you inebriating him utterly. You’re a trigger, back arched towards him in desperation. All to feel more. How greedy. You’re deadly, bouncing on him like that’s what you were made for, resolve renewing to keep up for as long as you could.
“Fuck- attagirl,” his eyes shut, dopamine rises, and all he can do is feel. “Good- shit– yeah, yeah–”
“‘M close-” your moan is pitched, walls tightening around him. “Ah– I’m– ‘m so close-”
Your entire body shakes, legs trembling and nearly giving out. A harsh slap lands across the skin on your ass, his fingers kneading the flesh before landing another slap against it. You can still feel the heat of his palm even as he moves it to hold your face harshly. “Don’t be fucking weak. H-shit–”
It turns you on, he realizes. To be treated like a ragdoll and pushed around. 
“Like that huh?” another spank. “Like being hit? Tch, wh-what a fucking brat”
“Yes–!” You gasp, movement accelerating over him, drawing half of him out just to enroll him in your warmth again. He can sense your orgasm approaching, walls dangerously tight around him. His tip hits your good spot, and you go at it and at it again, moaning loudly as your nails bruise his chest.
A string of curses escapes his lips, neck stretched as your head inches closer, pressing a kiss to the skin. He groans louder, moving you faster on his dick as your pace wasn’t enough.
“Hah– I– I’m gonna– Sukuna-sama I—”
Your mouth falls open, and breath fast. You see stars, cumming all over him. The fiber of your insides pulses around him, surrounding his cock with your essence. 
Nails dig into your flesh, and Sukuna’s body tenses. A desperate whine escapes you when you feel the white ropes spilling inside you. Your movement persists, set on milking every last drop he has to offer.
His chest rises and falls, a palm coming to cover his face while another pair sits on your hips. You attempt to move, trying to pull yourself off his cock. But his hands pull you back down with potent. You’ve grown sensitive, so his action draws a loud whine from you.
“Where to?” He sneers at you. “You’re not done yet, are you? ‘This all you can do?”
It’s an obvious challenge. Despite the fatigue you’re starting to feel, you’re not one to back down from challenges. Least of all ones pronounced by him.
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
Note
Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).
heart to heart.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.
oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3
songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco
warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader
1.4k words
you’ve been friends for years.
sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.
you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.
“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.
“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.
“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.
“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.
you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.
pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.
“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.
“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.
time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.
“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.
“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.
“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”
and he does.
you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.
“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.
two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.
lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.
“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.
you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.
“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”
“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.
“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.
“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.
“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.
“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.
“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.
“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.
finally.
“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.
“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.
shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.
you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.
“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.
“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.
“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.
the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.
but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.
“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.
he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.
when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.
you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.
“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”
“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.
“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.
-
i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops
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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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ickadori · 4 months
Note
hi i’m going feral over the dynamic w uraume, reader, and sukuna. uraume hating reader but they can’t lie and say the way she looks at now BOTH sukuna and uraume as if he were the night sky but they were thd stars in it… still, they say they don’t like her at all! annoying as she is.
even if she’s left alone with them while sukuna is out. and especially if she’s needy and wow sukuna isn’t here to fix it. ugh, uraume HATES her. totally for sure, no lie at all.
sorry it’s just such an AWOOOOBARKBARKHOOWWWLL dynamic </3
[cws] fem reader. brief mention of sukuna treating his workers poorly lmao. poly. this mainly focuses on uraume/reader.
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Uraume hates you, sparingly.
There are days where they grow so annoyed by you that they fear they may have to bind their hands to keep from squeezing at your throat. But there are also days where they find their interest mildly piqued by you, and can therefore tolerate you more than usual — today is one of those days.
They stand quite a distance away as they watch you cling onto Sukuna, your face twisted into one of despair as you beg him not to make you leave (ever the drama queen). He pays you no mind, one arm keeping you from falling over yourself while the other three pack your clothes away into a trunk.
“Ryo, I don’t want to go!” Ryo. Tuh. The first time you had uttered that shortening of his name, Uraume had prepared themself to finally see you be disciplined. It was terrible enough that you referred to him as just Sukuna, but to forego that as well and address him by such a casual title?
They had been sure that you’d be sporting a bruised face for a few days, or perhaps cradling a broken limb if the master was feeling particularly slighted, but instead, Lord Sukuna had only regarded you with low, hooded eyes and a ghost of a smile.
“Your wants are of no concern to me.” Sukuna says, and Uraume vividly remembers him asking them just the other day if you ‘wanted’ for anything.
Uraume was woken by a dark presence weighing heavy on their chest, and their eyes quickly open to see Sukuna looming over them, his own eyes narrowed into slits.
“Yes, my Lord?” There’s a slight waver in their voice.
“That woman…does she want for anything?” Uraume glances to the large, open window in their room, the sun still hidden away, and then slowly turns back to the curse.
“I don’t think I understand.”
“The date of her birth is approaching.” Uraume has enough sense not to gape. The King of Curses planning on getting a birthday gift for a human of all things — how absurd! “She claims not to want anything, but you know how women are.”
Uraume blinks at the pensive look that suddenly takes over his face, one hand raising to rub at his chin. After a beat of silence, Sukuna focuses his gaze back on Uraume.
“If you have no use for your tongue, then I’ll gladly take it.”
“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna, I was just recalling what she had mentioned in passing the other day.” He silently urges them to continue. “She frequently reminisces about the fountain in her village and how she wishes she could visit it again - I assume it holds some sort of sentimental value in it.”
Both parties are well aware that the fountain has long since been destroyed; the stone holding it together having been smashed the night Sukuna single-handedly pillaged the small village, and the water, once so crystal clear your face could be reflected in it, had been stained a deep, dark red with the blood of your friends and family.
“Shit.” Sukuna seems a touch distressed, and Uraume balks. It earns them a stinging on their chest, their sleep clothes staining red before their skin quickly heals itself. “Fix your face.”
“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna.”
He ponders for a moment. “I’ll have a fountain erected in the courtyard. I’ll send her away while it’s being built - you’ll accompany her.”
Shit.
Construction was set to start today, hence why you were being driven out of the palace, and Uraume had been tasked with taking you away to a neighboring village until the fountain was completed.
Before, Uraume would have been ashamed of themself for seemingly falling so low in Sukuna’s graces that they had been demoted to a mere pet sitter, but the Lord saw you as so much more. He trusted no one with you, and had killed plenty a servants for so much as letting their gaze linger on you a bit too long, but here he was trusting you, arguably his most prized possession, in their care.
It spoke volumes of how much trust Sukuna put into them, hence Uraume’s agreeable mood.
“You’re sending me off to my death, aren’t you?” You blanche, eyes darting between the two people in your room, and Uraume gives nothing away as they watch you with a neutral expression. “They’re going to cook me, aren’t they?” You let out a harrowing moan, even going so far as to drop your head into your hands, and Sukuna regards you with a painfully patient look.
“You would have done well in the story telling business - you’re highly dramatic.” You go limp, one of Sukuna’s arms quickly snatching you up, and another one comes down to snag ahold of your chin and turn your face up to him, large fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Enough with the theatrics, woman. You’re not being killed just yet.”
“Just yet?”
“The two of you are going on a trip. It’ll be no longer than two weeks.”
“A trip to where? The afterli—!” Sukuna spins you out of his arms, and Uraume acts quickly, their own arms shooting out to steady you. “Ryomen!”
“You may leave, Uraume.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
~
Uraume had been attempting to pacify you ever since the two of you had finally reached your designation: an inn a bit of ways into the countryside.
You had annoyingly cried a good ways of the journey over, only stopping when you had fallen asleep on Uraume’s shoulder, and when you had awoken, you had stayed quiet as you sulked to yourself.
Dramatic.
The two of you were now in the bath, Uraume’s hand gently moving the soapy cloth up and down the expanse of your back. You were still quiet, something completely uncharacteristic of your usual self. Even when Sukuna left the palace for weeks at a time you didn’t act like this. Perhaps you really did believe that he sent you away to be killed…
A part of them wanted to pick at you for their own amusement, but another part of them was slightly…worried. A very minuscule part. A displeased you would inevitably lead to a displeased Sukuna, and Uraume simply refused to let that happen.
“Lord Sukuna’s business will likely be finished before two weeks.” Knowing his master, the man would ensure the workers hands didn’t stop moving until their fingers were worked to the bone - the project would surely take no longer than a week, at the latest.
You give no indication to having heard them, and Uraume rinses the soap from your skin, silently acknowledging just how soft and supple the flesh is. “Have you decided what you’ll have for dinner?”
“You mean my last meal?” You quip, and Uraume grasps the wooden bucket filled with water at their feet. “You have some nerve, Uraume. Bathing me and plumping me up before you drive the knife in. Just know that—ah!” You splutter as a wave of water comes crashing down against your head, and they reach around you to dab at your eyes with a dry cloth.
“I think a hearty soup would do you well. I noticed that your voice sounds a bit scratchier than usual. I suspect you’ll come down with a cold in a few days.” Uraume turns you so you’re facing them, and they pause when they notice the tears gathering in your eyes.
“Did he grow bored of me?” Your voice cracks, and Uraume tilts their head. Humans and their needless worries.
“You are a very silly girl.” You sniff. “We both know very well what has become of the people that bored Lord Sukuna.” Their hands move on instinct, thumbs flicking away the tears that slipped free. “Do you really believe that I would be treating you so kindly if my master had signed off on your death?”
“You dumped water on my head.”
“Lukewarm water. It could have been boiling.”
You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, and Uraume isn’t pleased to admit that they can see the appeal that Sukuna sees in you.
“Let’s quickly finish so you can eat.”
~
“Is it any better?” Uraume questions, careful of their strength as they push their fingers into the plush flesh of your waist. You had found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, and once questioned, you had complained about a stiffness in your shoulders and lower back, prompting them to undo your robe and attempt to work the kinks out…kinks that they had yet to find.
“Mm-nn,” you sigh, cheek resting on the pillow as your lashes flutter, and they add a bit more pressure, oiled hands sliding up the sides of your waist, fingers brushing against the sides of your breasts, before they’re pushing down between your shoulder blades. “It’s…it’s lower now.”
“Lower?” They let their hands slip further down, thumbs pushing into your lower back and moving in wide, slow circles. They can feel you wiggling underneath them from where they straddle your bare behind, and Uraume focuses their ministrations in that area. “I suppose you are a bit tense - is this better?”
“L-Lower.”
Their brows furrow as they shuffle back so they’re sat atop the backs of your thighs, only for understanding to settle on their features at the slick sheen between your inner thighs. Uraume hums, a single finger moving to trace down your slit. You gasp, butt jutting out, and they tsk with a shake of their head.
“What a roundabout way to say you want me to pleasure you.” You hide your face into the blankets, and they allow their finger to push past wet, puffy lips to get to your clit. “Lord Sukuna instructed me to give you everything that you desired, and if sex is what you desire from me, then you will have it. There’s no need to beat around the bush.”
After Sukuna had first demanded that Uraume ‘teach you how to take him’, he had also given them the task of satisfying you whenever he was not around. You had only come to them twice so far - once at the end of your monthly cycle, a time where you could frequently be found moaning in Sukuna’s lap and pawing at his chest, and twice when Sukuna had ‘punished’ you by refusing to mate with you, forcing you to come to Uraume as a last, desperate resort.
You don’t answer them with words but moans, short breathless sounds that leave you with every swipe of their finger against your clit. Their free hand moves to a plump cheek, and they spread you open, eyes taking in the way your drooling hole clenches around nothing and oozes slick.
Their finger moves from your clit to your hole, and they add in another finger before slowly pushing in, silently marveling at the way your walls greedily suck them in, a low squelch sounding as your arousal bubbles up around the digits.
“Uraume,” you gasp, voice heavy with desire, and there’s a stirring in their groin that they pointedly ignore. They pull their fingers back until they slip out of you and spread them apart, your slick webbing between the two digits, and then they’re plunging them right back in. “Uraume!”
“Does this please you?” Their voice is breathier, heavier, and your ass ripples with the force from their hand hitting against you. “Or would you prefer something else? Perhaps my mouth?”
You moan out something indiscernible, but Uraume decides to take it as an enthusiastic yes, a decision that they refuse to dwell on as they push your thighs apart and lay on their stomach in between them, thumbs keeping your lips spread as they lick a long stripe up your cunt.
You gasp and twitch, and they let you move as you see fit, simply adjusting their position to keep up with you. Their tongue flattens over your bud, nose nuzzled against your clenching hole, and the scent of you nearly overwhelms them.
They venture up a tad, tongue now thrusting into you, and the heat of your pussy is enough to make beads of sweat trickle down their nose to mix in with your essence. They push in deep, tongue rubbing against your walls and curling up before withdrawing, pools of your slick collected and messily gulped down.
Uraume now understands why they so frequently catch Sukuna with his head buried between your thighs, hands keeping you pinned as he feasts on your cunt. Their master has never once eaten a meal they’ve cooked for him with such hunger and passion, and Uraume hates to admit that nothing they make could ever amount to the taste of you.
Their hands move to lock around your hips, your movements preventing them from mouthing at you the way they desperately need to, and they pay no heed to the way you sob into the sheets, pussy tightening around their tongue as you come with a breathless shriek of their name.
You relax in their hold, and they let their tongue slip from inside you, the muscle once again parting your folds to give slow, gentle licks to your twitching clit. You weakly call their name, and they pull away from you with a wet, messy kiss to the sensitive bud, hands going back to massaging into your skin as they struggle to calm their racing pulse.
Your soft snores filter into their ears a few moments later, and they observe you as they’re smacked with a new revelation.
Uraume doesn’t hate you, not one bit.
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sixosix · 1 month
Text
YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE BY NOT BEING MINE | LYNEY
notes this chapter switches from lyney to reader, but you’ll notice right away when it does ^__^ and i also wanted to plug in my hcs of aether sjdkwd, wc 2.1k
previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter
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Lyney has had many embarrassing moments in his life. Everyone has their moments, eventually, and Lyney’s not the type to keep track of all of them. He couldn’t even count them with his hands if he tried—it’d be as long as Lynette’s weekly receipt of sweets.
The first he could remember was performing in front of a live audience. He forgot his lines, cowered across expectant eyes, and fumbled with his tricks, but he didn’t regret it. That experience made him the illustrious magician he is today.
There was a time when Lyney wasn’t too used to you addressing him so directly and face-planted on the floor when you called out his name. 
He used to hear from the other orphans all the damn time: “Aren’t you at least a little embarrassed?” They never understood why Lyney kept returning to you, even after pushing him away. They never got to understand how thrilling it all was. He was just a little kid with an infatuation—why was he supposed to care about everyone else’s second-hand embarrassment?
He never came to regret any of those. He wouldn’t be here right now if it never came to be. 
However, Master Childe standing frozen while Lyney fumbles with not letting you sway all over the place, might start steadily pushing itself towards the top five. Lyney barely dodged as you nearly elbowed him in the face. Graceless in every form in front of the 11th Harbinger.
You use Lyney to prop yourself up and whip around. “Where’s Lord Tartaglia?”
Master Childe pushes the door open, his silhouette like some angel coming down to say he will tell on ‘Father’ about Lyney hoisting the runaway Fatuu. Political-ness aside, it already looks bad enough that you’re drunk, and he’s dragging you. You hiss like some sort of vampire, and Lyney dutifully shields you from the light. Would it be rude to order Master Childe to fetch glasses of water?
“My head,” you groan.
“I’m sorry,” Lyney says, brushing hair away from your face. “Do you want to lie down?”
You’re not given a chance to lie down nor reply as Childe points a finger in Lyney’s direction.
“Hey, you,” Master Childe says, and Lyney blinks a little fearfully, spine ramrod straight. “I know you. You’re one of the orphans in the House, right?”
“What are you doing here, Master Childe?” Lyney asks, hopefully still conveying his respect.
“Well, the Northland Bank wouldn’t mind some wealthy connections,” Childe says proudly. “And one of the special guests here owes something to the Fontaine Branch.”
“You also know me, Tartaglia,” you chime in, stumbling around and revealing your face to him, wasted as hell.
Lyney holds his breath as Childe’s expression blanks. “Do I?” Childe asks indulgently.
“One of your subordinates!” you exclaim petulantly, as if sulking Childe hasn’t given you the same treatment he gave Lyney.
Childe turns sheepish. “I’m not too familiar with all of them.”
Lyney can’t tell if he’s disappointed or relieved. Instead, he brushes it off and focuses on your well-being. “Y/N, do you think you can walk on your own?”
“Of course I can,” you say, then wobble when Lyney tests it. “W-Wait—”
“Wait,” Childe says, too. “You’re Y/N?”
“Duh.” You sniff.
Lyney smiles. “Please forgive her.”
Childe’s expression does something complicated. “I’m not that good with faces. I do know you—I assigned you here.”
Something about that feels wrong to Lyney, but he’s not given any chance to think too deeply about it when Childe looks as if he is about to reach out to you. Lyney pulls away and takes two steps back when Childe raises his hands. The Harbinger blinks in confusion.
Lyney’s guard is up. “I-I’m sorry—”
Childe lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you think of me, but I assure you I’m not that kind of person..”
Lyney winces. There goes his first impression on the 11th Harbinger—disrespectful and maddeningly shameless. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to insinuate I thought of you that way, sir.”
Master Childe laughs. “It’s fine. It’s my fault for coming off like that. Do you need help?”
This is definitely beyond rude. You sway on your feet when Lyney moves. “Mon lapin here could really use a glass of water.”
“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” you announce. Lyney and Childe, positions be damned, share the same fearful look.
Thankfully, the aristocrat’s floor was safe from the assault of your breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but the bushes outside the mansion couldn’t share the same sentiment. Lyney and Childe had a moment of silent agreement to keep quiet about this matter if they suddenly wilted.
“Does the lady need any more help?” Childe asks. He’s actually nicer than Lyney expected and even younger than they say when up close. He's less intimidating when he’s not standing across with his features darkened by the light flooding from behind—that was certainly nightmare fuel.
“No!” you exclaim. “I can go home myself,” you say, still slurring your words.
“I’m not letting you do that,” Lyney says, helplessly charmed.
“You should,” you argue, then look a little green again. “Uh oh.”
Childe takes an instinctive step back. “Are you going to throw up again?”
“No, my head,” you whine pitifully. Lyney wishes he could pull that migraine out with his bare hands, but he also finds your expression right now a little hilarious.
Lyney pinches your cheek. “I told you to lay off the alcohol.”
“Did you not want to kiss me because you were scared I would throw up in your mouth?” you ask Lyney.
Lyney freezes, eyes wide. “You’re still on to that? How much do you remember?”
He wants to ask you a million questions when you’re finally not acting so skittish, but he finds that he can’t. He realizes he hasn’t seen you like this before—not hostile or wary of him. You look nice, like everything was before it was ruined. And there was also how you willingly wanted him to kiss you.
As you press against him, Lyney watches as you deflate like a balloon faced with a needle. You sigh softly, then bury your face against his neck.
“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.
Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”
“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”
“Would you like me to warm you up?”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
This is so unfair. Lyney wants to bury his face in your hair and hide there, hoping you’d cling to him forever like this. But that won’t happen in this lifetime or any other one. (He doesn’t pry you off in this lifetime, however.)
The grand entrance doors slide open. Lynette emerges from the party with a tentative look on her face. She swiftly rushes over to Lyney, then is visibly startled when she notices Master Childe still hanging around.
Oh. Right. Why the hell is Master Childe still here?
Lynette bows her head, addressing their superior. He laughs and waves it off like he’s no one important in the streets. His sister turns to him, whispering, “Lyney, ‘Father’ is looking for us. She’s asking for us right now.”
Lyney’s skin crawls. “What? Why now?”
She shakes her head, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and Childe. “I’m not sure. She wasn’t supposed to come this early.”
Lyney frowns, glancing down at you. “I can’t just…”
“We can’t bring her there with ‘Father’ in, too,” Lynette murmurs. Lyney curses, knowing she’s right.
“What’s wrong?” you ask from where you’re pressed against Lyney. “Oh! Hi, ‘nette!”
“Hello, Y/N,” Lynette says warmly. It seems fondness for Y/N runs in the family. “Do you have anywhere to go to? May I ask where it is?”
“Yes, of course I do!”
Lynette looks over to Lyney. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
Lyney, as much as he hates to, glances back at Childe, who is, unfortunately, and fortunately, still standing there.
“Good idea,” Lynette praises, seemingly catching on to what Lyney is thinking.
“That’s her boss,” Lyney says, instinctively shielding you from him. “What if she gets fired because of this?”
“She won’t be,” Lynette says. “And I’m sure that Master Childe would at least make sure Y/N is somewhere safe before he leaves. And right now, we have to do that, too.”
Lyney doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t trust showing you to ‘Father’, too. It’s been too long—he doesn’t know what ‘Father’ would think of you, and her decisions happen in a split-second.
“Lyney,” Lynette says, in the tone of Let’s not keep ‘Father’ waiting.
Perhaps Lyney really isn’t thinking straight himself. “Master Childe?” Lyney calls out. He takes a deep breath and says, “We are in your debt.”
You wake up to a pounding headache and realize that Aether’s hair glows in the dark when fully blacked out. You had an inkling when it looked like Aether was illuminated at night, but seeing it up close is startling.
“Holy shit! Aether, your hair!” You sit up but belatedly regret it when the migraine returns to full force. “Holy shit,” you say again, for a different reason this time.
“Stop swearing,” Aether sighs, looking alien as he moves and speaks like a human being, yet his hair radiates light like the sun—literally. “Can we pull the curtains open?”
“Nooo,” you sob. “I want to sleep again. It hurts.”
“Paimon, if you will.”
The fairy salutes and shows no sliver of mercy as you’re ravaged by sunlight piercing your eyes. It feels like all your cells are screaming in protest. Or maybe you’re the one screaming.
“Huh,” Aether says thoughtfully. “Just as I suspected. You’re wearing the same shade of lipstick.”
You don’t care about your lips right now. Thinking about how dry your mouth is has you wanting to throw up. “What does that even mean?”
Aether ignores it. He’s starting to act like a stern, disappointing mother. “Do you remember what happened last night? Imagine my surprise when I see Childe sneaking in my teapot, carrying you like a passed-out damsel.”
Memories of last night flashed behind your eyelids, most of them featuring the 11th Harbinger, and your blood runs cold. “Oh no.”
“He’s still here, and he’s asking to talk with you.”
Your cells haven’t stopped screaming; they’re scattering around in panic. You certainly feel as if you’re being jostled around. “I think I’m going to throw up again.”
Pitying you, Aether reaches from the bedside desk and hands a glass full of water that’s delightfully the perfect temperature. But apparently, he doesn’t pity you enough to not drag you out of bed.
You didn’t understand what Aether meant when he said Teapot, but while on the way to where Childe was resting, Paimon explained that you were all walking in a floating teapot hanging around somewhere in some corner of Fontaine. Faintly, you wondered if you were still drunk.
Master Childe is all sprawled legs on the living room couch. He senses your presence right away, waving with a bright smile.
“I think I did pretty well last night, comrade.” Childe flashes a grin to Aether, who rolls his eyes. “They didn’t question anything!”
“It’s because you’re their superior.” Aether turns to you, plucking the empty glass from your shaky fingers. “Sit beside them. I have something to ease your migraine.”
You could cry. Instead, you obediently sit beside the feared and renowned 11th Harbinger, moving as stiff as a board.
“Hey.” Childe tilts his head as he studies your face. “You look pale.”
“Sir!” You bow, then promptly start retching.
Chidle laughs, “Calm down, calm down. You don’t have to be so formal. You spoke easily last night.”
“I was drunk,” you murmur, face heating up. You couldn’t recall how easily you spoke to him last night—it’s all a blur. Thinking too hard about it has you dizzy.
“Loosen up then. You’re a friend of the Traveler, aren’t you? That makes us comrades, too.” Childe sinks into his seat, grinning. “I already got the gist of the situation. I gotta say, that’s dangerous deceiving the Arlecchino, of all people.”
“If it involved Teucer, wouldn’t you do the same?” Aether chimes in, entering the room, holding a tray with three glasses.
Chidle guffaws, “Fair enough!”
Paimon settles beside you, looking as alien as Aether earlier by sitting down. Your drink looked different from Paimon’s and Childe’s, but you reasoned that Aether still needed your intel to not poison you.
“It wasn’t part of the agreement to have to see my subordinates canoodling, though,” Childe says offhandedly. “Your boyfriend was like a leech.”
“Lyney is not my boyfriend,” you say automatically.
Childe laughs at first, but it dies down seeing your confusion.
“Oh,” he says. “Oh.” He turns to Aether, who nods sagely, world-weary.
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imagine: lyney returning to the bench he left you and childe on, seeing that you’re both gone, and exclaiming FUCK
notes omg its been a while……….How is everyone!!! sorry i know this is so short but im just glad i finally update after like?? nearly a month and a half?? 😭😭😭 tbh im not too proud of this chapter but i cant tell if its bc its been so long or if its bc its actually badjhfkjd EITEHR WAY THANK YOU FOR REAADDINGGG
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xo-cori · 6 months
Note
Ellie is sooooo into sneaking around and secretly fucking you in public but Abby is a complete opposite she just wants you all only because only her can hear and see you because you’re hers. Idk how I think Dina would be!!!
kissing and hope they caught us
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: the best way to prove that somebody is yours is to show them off.
warnings: smut (MDNI), exhibitionism, ellie being a cocky little shit
a/n: lord forgive me
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All you can feel is her hands, everywhere.
Her fingers reach somewhere deep inside you as the palm of her hand covers your mouth, muffling all of your pretty noises only because she’s not sure how it’d sound to an outsider. After all, the two of you are cramped in an almost pitch black laundry room, the dim blue LED lights from the living room barely creeping in through the slits of the unlocked door. She’d been staring at you all night, though. She could bear not seeing you for a few minutes.
“Gotta be quiet,” Ellie mutters, “don’t want anyone walking in, do you?”
She expects to get some sort of reaction out of you, but you only clench down around her fingers at the thought of it. You grasp at the edge of the washing machine for some support, knees barely holding you up now, and Ellie doesn’t even try to hold in her laugh. “Oh, you would fuckin’ like that.”
You let out a low whine, though she can still hear it over the loud music just down the hallway. She moves her hand from your mouth so she can bring her lips to yours, working to swallow all of your moans that couldn’t be held back even if you tried. You weren’t trying, though. Not one bit. You gasp into the kiss as her fingers curl up, thumb pressing down onto your clit in a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. It’s embarrassing how close you are after just a few minutes alone with Ellie. She does unspeakable things to you, and seems to have a habit of making a mess out of you no matter where you are.
Bathrooms, closets, backseats. It’s a thrill that she chases, that gives her just as much pleasure as she gives you– if not more.
You haven’t been caught, yet, but you’re starting to think that it’s only a matter of time. Luck runs out quicker the more you abuse it.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, grabbing onto her hair in a vain attempt to ground yourself. Your heart pounds in your ears to the beat of the music and she swears she can feel it against her own chest.
“Remember what I said, yeah? Quiet.” Ellie says. Regardless, her thrusts have somehow gotten faster and the speed dizzies you. Your head falls forward into her shoulder, pressing your mouth into the fabric of her sweatshirt to cover up the sound of another whine– it’s her name, she realizes, still quite loud despite your efforts.
She fucks you through our orgasm until you reach down to grab her wrist, halting her thrusts, mumbling something about it being too much, and she finally pulls out of you. You keep yourself tucked safely in her shoulder as you try to catch your breath.
Ellie lets you rest for a moment and takes the opportunity to lick the wetness from her pruned fingers, suddenly wishing that she’d taken you to a more secure area so that she could’ve tasted you properly– a regret she finds herself having often when you find yourselves in these situations.
After a few long moments, she gently grabs your chin and makes you look up at her, just barely able to see her eyes through the darkness. “Damn. I’m ready to go home if you are.”
Though you normally would’ve felt bad for leaving a party so early, you can’t imagine anything here better than what awaits you back home (or, if Ellie’s feeling to impatient, right there in the car). “I’ve been ready since we got here,” you huff.
“Do you think Dina’s gonna be mad?” She asks, eyebrows furrowing with a fickle concern that could easily be erased.
“Jesse brought Fireball, Els. She’s probably not gonna remember she even had this party.” You reply, to which she hums in agreement. Your friend isn’t exactly known for being able to handle her liquor, and you’d both seen her drink quite a bit of it within the span of a few hours. If she isn’t hunched over a toilet bowl by now, she’s probably going to keep drinking until she is.
So, Ellie kneels down to help you pull your shorts back up as you readjust your shirt to look more presentable; to make it look like you’d been doing anything but getting fucked in a laundry room.
You know, deep down, the thought of anyone finding out is only turning you on more.
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Zuko x reader - one more time
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Hey can I get a Zuko x reader where the it’s Legend of Korra era but what it is is that Korra or Bolin just anyone in the main group ask about his past s/o who was the reader and he talks about them in a sad old man way taking about his deceased lover 😭 thank you - Anon 💜
Korra had been trying to figure everything out, and she realised the only connection she had to Aang, the one that knew him when he was going through the same thing was Zuko.
So she visited him, and spent as much time as she could asking questions, asking for advice and help.
“I’m sorry Korra, but this is not something I’m so good at, (Y/N) was better at giving advice than I ever could have hoped to be.”
“(Y/N)? You’re partner?” Korra asked.
Zuko nodded his head and gestured for her to follow him.
He led her through a lavish garden, nearly cared for, and when they reached the middle he showed her a large statue and Korra stared at it.
You were absolutely stunning, you looked young, beautiful, elegant, yet powerful and a fair ruler.
“Wait.. I think.. I think I spoke to them. In the spirit realm.”
“You did?”
They both sat down in the bench opposite the statue of you.
“Yeah, they were the one that told me to come speak to you, that you would know what to do.” She said.
Zuko smiled and chuckled softly as he stared up at the statue in fondness.
“They always said I knew what to do, even if I didn’t realise it straight away.”
Korra looked at the former fire Lord, and she looked up at the statue of you.
“What were they like?” She asked softly.
Zuko smiled softly, turning his head to the floor before he looked back up at the statue.
“They were… they were strong, stubborn, like Katara, but peaceful and loving like Aang. They saw the beauty in everything around, but they were one of the bravest people I had ever met.”
Korra listened carefully as Zuko told her all about you.
He told her stories from when you two first met, how you had left the nation to fight with Aang, and you would always mock him for not being able to defeat you.
Then how he fell in love with you, on the day of the war ended, while he was fighting with his sister you risked your life for not only Katara, but for him too.
He loved your stubbornness, and your smiled that could light up a room on the darkest night.
“They were more then anything I could’ve ever asked for, they gave me the love and the forgiveness I never have asked for from anyone else…”
Zuko sighed, running his finger alone the lone wedding band on his finger.
“They were the love of my life and more…”
Korra reached out, placing her hand on his arm, making him look at her.
“You’ve done them proud, they told me how proud they were of you, and how much they miss you.” She said.
He smiled softly and looked at her.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He nodded his head and looked at your statue before turning to the young avatar.
“Do you think you can talk to them again?”
“I.. don’t know. Maybe.”
“If you do please give them this. I was going to give it to them on the our anniversary before they passed, I’ve carried it ever since.”
He handed over an old letter, and she took it, slipping it into her pocket.
“Of course, will you tell me more about them?”
Zuko smiled and carried on talking, and Korra just sat there listened to his stories.
She knew he was lonely, she heard from Katara how you were never without one another.
To loose your lover so early and have to go on through life without them? She couldn’t imagine how lonely and how painful it must be.
She heard the way he talked, the sadness in his voice, the tears brimming his eyes as all he could do was stare at the statue.
Korra looked at the statue and she saw something behind it, and all she could do was stare at the spirit.
She didn’t need to compare the looks to know immediately who it was.
She watched as you walked over and sat in front of your statue, resting your elbow on your knee, and you rested your chin on your palm as you smiled at Zuko.
“Ask him to tell you about the time he proposed to me.” You whispered softly.
“Can you tell me about the time your proposed to (Y/N)?”
“You really want to hear about that?”
Katara flicked her eyes to your spirit, and you gently nodded your head.
“I.. (Y/N) wants to hear it.”
“They’re here?”
Zuko knew the avatar could see spirits, talk with them, and he knew since the spirit realm was opened more and more were pouring through.
He never thought that you would come through though.
“They’re here…” she smiled.
Zuko looked around and Korra pointed to where you were sat, and all she could do was smile as he smiled to himself.
“It was supposed to be elegant, I had a large ball planned, everyone was invited, everyone was waiting for me. (Y/N) wore the most beautiful clothes you had ever seen, made out the finest silk you could ever see. I was walking down the stairs, and I tripped, falling the rest of the way and I knocked (Y/N) over along the way.” He laughed.
You laughed as well and nodded your head.
“I was so embarrassed I quickly left and (Y/N) followed me, out to this very garden and we stood in very spot. They kissed me, and told me that it was okay, and I asked them there and then if they would marry me.”
He twisted the wedding band on his finger.
“They teased me and kept putting off the answer, and I went to walk away thinking it was them rejecting me… I tripped again…”
“But they said yes.” Korra smiled.
“They did. But not before laughing at me first.” He chuckled.
Korra watched as his face turned to sadness.
“It was the best marriage I could’ve ever ask for… but they got sick… they tried to fight, to hold on but they wouldn’t do it anymore. They passed away in their sleep, they never got to watch our children grow up, they never saw the kingdoms grow closer.”
Korra couldn’t handle it anymore, she knew she shouldn’t do this, but she felt like she owed it to Zuko, for everything he’d done.
“Close your eyes.” She said softly.
Zuko did as he was told and she placed a hand on his head, whispering something she stepped away.
“I.. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I hope this helps.”
She handed him the letter he gave her and stepped a few steps back, watching him open his eyes and he stared directly at you.
He smiled and you stood up, walking over to touch his face.
Maybe she was breaking a lot of rules, but Korra knew he was breaking inside without you, he’d been so alone without you for so long she wanted him to have some time with you, even if it was just a few minutes
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illyrian-dreamer · 6 months
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Our girl – Part 5
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst
Summary: You wake after succumbing to the mating bond.
Word count: 5.1k
<<&lt; Part 4
Strands of hair tickled your cheeks, a warm, gentle breeze kissing your face as you groggily blinked awake. 
 A spring breeze. 
You jolted upright, urgently scanning around you. It was a lavash guest room, soft white sheets settled over your body, lush pillows piled to have cradled your head. You had no idea who's clothes you wore, but you knew you were at the Spring Manor. 
As if on queue, a house maid opened the doors to your room, behind her a healer. It was the same perky house maid that had greeted you when you first visited Tamlin. 
“Oh good, you’re awake, she pepped. The healer wordlessly approached you, pressing her thumb to your wrist. She gave the maid a quick nod before leaving the room, without having spoken a word. 
“She’s mute,” the maid explained. 
Oh. You stared back at her. So were you, it seemed.
“The High Lord will be eager to hear you are awake. Will you take his visit?”
You nodded silently, unable to form the thousands of questions as your brain came to wake. 
Tamlin was in your room in no less than a few minutes. 
“How are you feeling?”
You blinked. You hadn't really thought about that. Looking within yourself, you felt it there, a swollen heart, alive and beating and thriving, but also aching from a deep wound. You were nautious and weak and so gods damned angry. How could the Mother be so cruel?
“How long was I asleep?”
“Just a day.”
You nodded, running your hand through your hair. “And we’re in Spring?”
Tamlin nodded. “Feyre and Rhys winnowed us here.”
You were too tired to gawk, so you blinked instead. “Pardon me?”
“And your… Azriel and Cassian are still here, waiting for you to wake.”
You must still be dreaming. “You opened your home to them?” you croaked.
Tamlin shrugged. “We wanted to bring you to your Uncle’s, but you could see to a healer faster here. Besides, there was no fitting five fae in that cabin, especially two Illyrians.”
“They could have slept outside,” you ground out, and Tamlin chuckled. 
“You do… remember what unfolded at the wedding, don’t you? That Azriel and Cassian are your mates?”
“Do not call them that.” Taming the bite in your tone was beyond you, even for your friend. You had to clench your eyes shut to stop the reel in your vision, your whole body clenching as you remembered that awful, fated moment.
Tamlin didn't falter. Instead he dropped his eyes before reaching for your hand and squeezing it sympathetically. “Are you in any pain?”
“Yes. No. I don't know,” you said plainly, pinching at your nose. It did hurt, this unwanted binding to the two beings you resented most in this world. It hurt to resist them, to resist it. As if there was a home, beckoning you inside to warmth and food and comfort, and instead you stood outside in the hail and cold, despising it for ever being built.
Tamlin’s eyes were soft as he watched you shift uncomfortably. You hated that look too, as if he was sad for you, as if this bond was your fate and you had no say in the matter. 
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” he blinked. 
“As if I’m some mindless female destined to forget and forgive and go running back with a kiss to each of their cheeks.”
“I don’t think that–”
“Because I’m not, and I won’t. I still have my head, and my senses, and some gods-damned self respect.” 
Tamlin sighed then. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to Y/N. I won't allow it.”
You cast your eyes to the roof then, blinking away the sting of tears. “And what of us, Tamlin? Suppose I was free to explore a future with you?”
Tamlin moved to hold your one hands in his, running a thumb in your palm. “You are free, sweetheart.”
“And you would court me, knowing I’m cauldron-bound to not just one, but two others?”
His thumb stopped rubbing then, and his lips pressed to a thin line. 
You stared hard at Tamlin, eyes piercing. Don’t lie - that look said - we do not lie to each other. 
And as Tamlin raised green eyes to yours, in their softness you had your answer. 
“Your silence is answer enough,” you bit, letting out a sharp breath as tears slid down your cheeks, snatching your hand from his. 
It had started – your choices, your freedom – fading away already. Curse the Mother.
“Come now Y/N, I will always love you, and we will always have each other, however our relationship might change.”
“Lies, Tamlin. Fucking lies,” your voice broke as tears streamed down your cheeks. You were flushed with anger then, kicking off the sheets that were now too hot, your skin beginning to tingle. Gods, not now you begged, holding your breath to stifle the sting at your fingertips.
“I do not lie to you, Y/N.” Tamlin said sternly. 
You swung your legs from your bed, standing in a hurry as blood rushed to your head. “You’re just another disappointment,” you said coldly, pacing as you shook your hands to rid of your power. 
Pain flashed in his eyes, and he recoiled slightly before straightening, his eyes hardening. “You’re being unfair.” 
“You males are all the same! You treat females as if they are objects, owned by one male and therefore not to be touched by another. An unspoken exchange, as if I were cattle and not an actual fucking being.” 
Tamlin pinched his nose then, his jaw tightening. “That is not what is happening here. You cannot punish me for not wanting to entangle myself in your mateship, not when I’m doing it out of respect for you.”
You were being unfair, and quite unforgiving, but your words were as unstoppable as your power in this moment, zapping and dancing at your skin. 
“Is that what you define as respect, High Lord? Because despite a year of friendship, all it took was one gods-foresaken moment for you to side with what they want, and start dismissing me. You believe in the bond, and you respect Azriel and Cassian enough to house them, and agree that you won't so much as look at me again. You have chosen them over me, plain and simple.”
Tamlin’s face was grave, and you knew you were twisting an old wound of his. And perhaps you were being rash, but you didn't care. You would shut him out, or anyone who thought they knew what was best for you. 
“I thought I was helping you by allowing them here,” he said defensively. “I thought perhaps you’d feel safe here, but would still want them close, to be able to talk to them.”
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re gods-damned right I want to talk to them! I’ll tell them exactly what I think of this couldren-made-shackle, of what I think of the Mother if they think for one second they can–” You swayed on the spot as you spat a string of curses, vision blurring slightly.
Despite the cruel words you had cast his way, Tamlin approached, steadying you by your shoulder’s, biting down on the pain that stung him at his touch. 
“I understand your anger, Y/N, I do. But you’re still unwell, you should rest now and–”
Tamlin should have know better than to test your stubbornness. 
So you marched for the door, flinging it open as you stormed through the manor, using that tether you so loathed to cast out your mates. Tamlin was on your tail, trying to reason to take a moment or calm yourself before doing anything rash. But you didn't turn once as you found the room that beheld your mates, ripping the doors open without so much as a knock. 
They knew you were coming of course. Azriel stood near the bed, and Cassian had just risen from the armchair he sat on in the opposite corner – their faces grave, worried, with a sickening kind of longing. 
It was as if the flesh between your bones went soft, your body begging to give out or give in and relish in the proximity of being close to your mates. But you forced yourself to stay stiff, holding a glare that could cut glass.
“Wipe those looks off your faces,” you bit, stalking into the room.
Azriel cast his eyes to Tamlin who held a look that said I tried to stop her. He knew better than to linger, pulling the doors closed behind you.
“How are you fee–?” Cassian tried, but you raised a hand to silence him. 
They waited in silence, and you darted your eyes between them. 
“You think this means I forgive you?”
They knew better than to answer that. 
“You think this means you can have me, because the Mother wishes to see us mated?” you continued, your voice laced with ice. “Well it doesn’t. I will not head to fate and forsake myself, not even for the cauldron.”
Azriel sighed then, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. “Of course you won’t,” he said plainly. 
You scowled. “Is that sarcasm?” you bit, even though you felt his sincerity creeping through the tether. 
“No. It’s knowing.”
You blinked.
“We know you doll,” Cassian said as he too sat back in the chair, running a strong hand through his hair – a tell sign of stress. “Not because of the bond. But because we’ve loved you for almost a decade now. We know there is not a thing that can set you apart from your principles.”
“And we would never ask that of you,” Azriel added.
You shuffled, your arms crossing defensively. “You won't try to convince me to go back with you?” you asked stiffly.
Cassian shook his head. “No, it was wrong for us to ask that of you in the first place.”
Azriel stood then, moving closer to a settee in the centre of the room. “We do ask that you might let us explain. We have so much we've wanted to tell you, even before you left Velaris. And there is a lot of truth we’ve withheld, things you deserve to know.” He slid his hands behind his back, waiting at the seats – a silent offering to join them, to hear them out. 
It was a temptation you couldn't deny yourself. You moved swiftly, sitting on one side, a low reading table separating you as Cassian took a place next to Azriel. 
“We had suspicions of the bond from when we first began to court you.” Azriel began. “It was so rare for us to long for the same female, but the true hint was in the lack of jealousy we felt between each other.”
Cassian nodded. “We agreed to court you as, well, as partners. It wasn't anything we had explored in our 500 years, but with you, it felt so natural.”
“And your ease too, that was a big sign,” Azriel added. “We half expected you to flee, or never speak to us again.”
“But you were so comfortable, you made it feel… right.”
You were frowning slightly. You didn't remember feeling natural or at ease at all, in fact you were sick to your stomach with nerves when you first began dating. But perhaps they had a point, exploring your first relationship with two males hadn’t added any more challenge than regular dating for you. You had put that down to your friendship of many years. 
“Over the period we dated, and as we fell in love with you, we learned to love each other too. We were brothers, but you showed us how to be more than that, igniting something not even they Cauldron dared show us.”
“We wanted to tell you of our suspicions, but it didn’t feel like the right time. You were so focused on your work, so determined to do well. And I suppose we thought it was a hopeless dream – it didn't feel right to distract you with that.” Cassian explained, leaning into his elbows that rested on his knees.
You weighed up their words, eyes darting between the males. It had never occurred to you that a mating bond was at play. You would have never believed yourself to be cauldron-blessed if they had suggested it – or cauldron-cursed rather.
Azriel cleared his throat, cutting through the silence. “It wasn't until the moment that I killed Alvar, that I felt the bond snap,” he breathed out, his voice husky and his hazel eyes cast downward, grimacing as he recalled the difficult memory. “I watched the life leave his body, and then I heard a snap, a force so strong it made me falter. I was reborn in that moment, my new purpose to solely fill your needs, to care for you, protect you. I could feel your desires overriding mine, and in that your determination and hunger to avenge your sister. And I knew then, that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”
There was a downward tug of your lips, your face muscles jerking involuntarily as you tried not to cry, imagining that moment that changed everything for the worse. 
“I have dreams of Alvar, still alive and at the mercy of Trutheller. I dream that I sheath my sword and step away, returning to a world where you are waiting for me at our home. And your embrace is warm and true, because you love us, and we never did a thing to ruin it.” Azriel’s voice broke as he flashed those hazel eyes, lined with tears. 
Two silent tears slid down your cheeks, your chest tight with the shallows breaths you kept to keep yourself from crumbling. You didn't respond – what could you say? Instead, you cleared your throat, grasping the arms of your chair even tighter. “And what of you?” you asked Cassian. 
“It snapped for me in that same moment. But I was journeying home from the northern training camps in Illyria.” 
You blinked in shock. The bond had snapped for the both of them, with that greater distance between them while Azriel was across the sea?
“As I was flying back to Velaris, and I heard the snap in my ears before I felt it course through my veins and wounding my heart. That realisation, that same pain that Azriel described, the devastation at what we had done… it sent me crashing into the thick of forest.”
You closed your eyes as you imagined the great War General, bought to his knees by such a thing. 
“It seems none of us have been welcomed to this mateship gently,” you said tightly. Why had the Mother forsaken so much pain?
“I could hear Az then, speak to him through the bond in the same way Rhys and Feyre speak in  our minds. I could feel his panic too, his fear of having to tell you, to break you in such a way. I calmed him down as best I could, and reassured him that we would do it together, as soon as he returned.”
Your eyes turned cold again. “But that isn’t what happened.”
“It was a cowards choice to ask Rhys to be the one tell you, we know,” Azriel said with dismay. “But the concept of hurting you, of wounding our mate so deeply? It was unfathomable.”
“Its not an excuse,” Cassian added. “But we hope you can understand, there is an instinct there that twists our concept of what is wrong and right. Rhys understood that, it was the same instinct that kept him from telling Feyre about the risk of birthing Nyx. I think that’s why he volunteered to tell you, to protect us from something that would wound us so deeply.”
“We are learning, Y/N, and we are so sorry that we hurt you,” Azriel said, hazel eyes pinning you with their intensity. “But we are trying, and we will do better by you.”
You looked between the two of them, pulling your hands to your lap as your fingers trembled. It was just all so much. 
Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to say those words – I forgive you. 
You could see it, relief flooding the bond and breaking those solemn gazes, their embrace and warmth and scent surrounding you, fulfilling your primal desire. Their lips on yours, their hands on your body, yours on theirs, puling each other in and never letting go. There was a thrumming in your heart, a pulsing through your veins. It felt so right. 
But then you thought of the life you had made, the path you were forced to walk by yourself after what they had done. They had broken you completely, and you had put yourself back together, now stronger than ever. Your mission work, your life in Spring, the pain you endured and the scars that remained from doing it alone – it was a part of you now, and you could never let that go. 
You were at a cross roads – one path leading to the overwhelming promise of unconditional love that tempted your heart, the other promising freedom and choice and sense, tempting your head.
“What are you thinking?” Cassian asked, his voice soft from where he still sat, anxiously fidgeting with his hands. 
You took a deep breath. “That I am overwhelmed.”
Cassian nodded, and Azriel watched you before speaking softly. “That is understandable.”
You didn't have an answer for them, not even for yourself. 
“I don't know what to do,” you whispered. 
Cassian continued to nod, casting his eyes down sadly. “Whatever you decide, Y/N, we will do right by you.”
“Of course we dream of you accepting the bond, of becoming our mate, we won't deny that. But we want you to want it,” Azriel added. 
You gulped, anticipating the pain that would come from your next words. “And what if I decide to break the bond?”
Cassian’s head dropped as he let out a wrangled sob. Azriel’s shadows recoiled so fast they disappeared entirely. The latter gripped the chair, his knuckles white as he slipped into that place he so often had to as the Spy Master – a place where nothing could hurt him. “The choice is yours.”
“Please,” Cassian breathed out, tears streaming down his face. It was a plea, even the thought of the bond breaking unbearable to him. 
It unbearable for you too, and fresh tears slid down your face as your arms coiled tighter around the ache in your stomach. It would sicken you, perhaps almost kill the three of you. But it was what they deserved. 
You were exhausted, and keeping that wall up through the bond, stopping their emotions from tampering with your own – that alone had you begging for your bed. 
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you said with a broken voice, guilt slipping through at the sight of the General sobbing before you.
Azriel put an arm around his brother, comforting him as best he could. “We know that, sweetheart. Of course we know that.”
You cast your eyes sideways as you blinked through more tears. “But I don't have an answer for you.”
Cassian nodded, running his hands over his face as he tried to collect himself. “Take your time,” he said after a few moments, his voice shaky and breaths forced. “We will wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”
“And you don't need any more bargains from Rhys or Feyre,” Azriel added. “We will respect your privacy Y/N, any and all distance you might need. Let us prove that to you.”
You nodded then, forcing yourself to your knees despite the scream of protests in all of your muscles and joints. Gods, is this how the rest of your life would be, forever fighting a higher cause? Perhaps you’d go mad before you could ever hope to forgive them.
“I will…,” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “Good bye, Cassian and Azriel,” you forced out, your voice thick from the cry that begged at your throat. 
Cassian’s lip wobbled, and Azriel’s brow broke upwards as he spoke. “Take good care of yourself, Y/N.” 
Cassian’s head felt to his hands, and you forced yourself to close the doors behind you, quieting the sound of his cries. 
————
You spent three weeks at your Uncle’s cabin – mostly in bed and unspeaking, even to Finbark. He dotted over you, trying to pry you from your room to spend some time outside or eat a full meal. But that familiar pain had returned, that same weight that kept you bed bound for days in your old apartment. It was grief, in all shapes and kinds.
You hadn't broken the bond, but it was rejected good and proper for now. And it hurt so gods damned much. Your waking moments were consumed with the tug and pull of what was right, a constant reeling battle that exhausted you to every extent. 
The mission aid work carried on without you – you had a competent team of friends that you trusted to continue to provide care across Spring Court. You were grateful for their passion and dedication – while your desire to help others was unreachable in those moments, and you felt completely numb to what you once had thought was your life’s calling. You despised the bond for changing you so.
You wondered of the wild Geranium, if it had been harvested yet and if Tamlin or your team had made any progress on bottling its healing pigment. 
And there was pain and guilt when you thought of Tamlin too. You had hurt him – you were malicious in your anger and said so many things you hadn't meant. You weren't angry at him, not really. Your anger lied with the Mother and your mates, and you could not fault him for not wanting to complicate relations and involve himself where he knew he shouldn’t. He was true to his word – he was open and honest with you – and you had punished him for it. 
Tamlin hadn’t sent word, and you knew he was respecting the distance you sought, perhaps even licking his own wounds. So you would start there, apologise to him, and help just one person hurt less from the recoil of your poisonous mating bond. 
You sent word to his Manor, asking him to meet you in three days time. 
————
Tamlin was at the stables, brushing down his steed when you trotted up on Podie. 
He wore his riding pants again, boots to his knees, a shirt tucked in at his tight abdomen, strong forearms moving the brush gently across the horses back. You cursed the Mother that the sight of him didn't have the same effect on you as it had a few months prior – the bond chipping away at what you had once known to desire. 
Your heart did clench at the sight of him in a sorry way, his blond hair pulled back as he worked humbly. You had missed your friend dearly, and even the Mother could not stop you from feeling that.
Tamlin turned, his face neutral as he watched you approach, neither of you speaking. Green eyes followed your dismount, and you lingered for a moment before you rushed at him, wrapping your arms at his waist and burying your face into his chest. The scent of mountain dew and fresh cut grass filled your nose – gods you had missed that.
“I’m sorry,” you croaked before sobs overtook, muffled by his clothing. 
Tamlins arms were still in the air, shocked by your approach. But he loosed a breath, bringing them to hug you, rubbing soft circles on your back. 
Relief found you then, and you melted further into his touch. A sign of truce. “I’m so so sorry Tamlin.”
“Shhh, it’s alright Y/N. It’s alright.”
You shook your head, pulling away and looking up at him. “You were only trying to help, and I was so cruel. The things I said, I–”
Tamlin shook his head gently, hushing you. “I don't understand the instincts of a mating bond, but I do know what it is to say things out of anger.”
“I didn't mean them,” you swallowed with guilt.
He smiled softly. “I know.”
You took a deep breath. “Please forgive me.”
Tamlin rolled his eyes playfully then, a smirk now on his lips. “I already had.” 
You tried to smile back, but it came out all wobbly, so Tamlin pulled you in again, swaying in a hug as he kissed the top of your head. 
After some lunch and a stroll through the gardens, he watched your carefully as you fingered the roses. 
“Do you know what you’ll do of the bond?”
You stiffened, your eyes not leaving the row of flowers before you. “No, I really don’t,” you said sadly. It was true, you hadn't a clue what to do next. 
Tamlin nodded.
After a deep sigh, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “But I do know what I want for my life. I want to continue my mission work, expand my horizons and work across Prythian. I suppose I need to approach the other High Lords, and harvest the Geranium if you’re still willing?”
Tamlin smiled, his eyes warm as he seemed to find relief. “It’s all yours.”
You nodded, smiling back. There was relief for you too – you recognised your old self in those words. Your passion to help others was still alive and strong – and that meant the cauldron hadn’t changed you beyond recognition, and if you fought hard enough, it couldn't if it tried.
“I’m so grateful to have you in my life, Tam,” you confessed, your chest swelling with sincerity.
Tamlin raised his brows in question. 
You gave a half smile. “You make me feel… like myself. No matter the circumstance.”
Tamlin’s face softened in a way that made you wonder how long it was since he was shown a genuine kind of love – especially after what happened with Hybern.
“You are wonderfully you, Y/N, with or without my help.”
“Always the humble High Lord,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “But I would not have made it this far without you. You’re my dearest friend.”
Tamlin reached and squeezed your hand. “You’re dear to me too, Y/N.”
You squeezed back, and you swore to yourself that the bond would not interfere in this friendship ever again. 
————
6 months later
The High Lords meeting was held in Dawn, in an impressive wide cast room, marble sprawled from floor to ceiling, glassless windows arched at every wall. All seven High lords and one High Lady seated at a wide-spanning table, a cartographic map of Prythian etched within the wood. 
Fingers tingling as you shook them out, and skirts kicking at your feet, you paced anxiously on the other side of the double doors to the meeting hall.
Today was the day you would propose your mission to expand refuge aid across the whole of Prythian, asking the High Lords to consider opening their borders and contributing resources and volunteers of their own. 
Your team had worked tirelessly to get to this point – the wild Geranium was now harvested and a new batch was already seeding, and you had worked for months on your proposal, researching natural resources, writing guidance sheets on how to train volunteers, identifying what each court had to contribute and when. 
The challenge that lay ahead of you now was to appeal to spectrum of powerful leaders waiting on the other side of those doors. You knew of their egos, of the rivalry and sensitivities between courts – this was no easy task.  
“Tamlin must certainly be a terrible lover if this is how wound up he leaves you.”
You threw a scowl over your shoulder, knowing that voice and whitewood scent. 
“And what of you, Eris? Waiting for daddy to finish his meeting like the good dog you are?”
Eris gave a half grin, one that didn't reach his eyes. He strolled over, leaning against the wall as he watched you try to calm yourself, delighting in your nerves. “Speaking of dogs, I heard your mates are cooped up at Night Court, the both of them suffering from wounded hearts.”
Your bared your teeth before you could think twice. Eris knowing that both Cassian and Azriel were your mates was dangerous, but the primal snarl had escaped you for that insult alone.
Eris’s eyes danced with satisfaction. “Oh, don't go feral on me now, Y/N. From what I hear, you haven't so much a secured the bond with a fuck.”
“I will–“ your hands curled into fists as you stalked up to the male, overcome with a shaking rage. 
But Eris stayed leaning, cleaning his nails with arrogant nonchalance as he cut you off. “I suppose they’ll have to satisfy each other instead, how sad.”
Your hand was raised, ready to strike, and fire glowed in Eris’s eyes. 
“Try that, girl, and your pathetic mission turns to dust. You can forget any allegiance from Autumn, and it’s likely others will back out too.”
You faltered, your arm swaying slightly. He was right – the prick. A sounding slap was not the way to heed your proposal.
He grinned with smug satisfaction as you lowered your arm and turned away. “Such a violent response from someone who preaches to only want to help others. Perhaps you’re not the peaceful messiah you claim to be, Y/N.”
“I’ve never had a problem defending what is mine,” you threw over your shoulder. “And my aid is offered to those in need, not to arrogant princelings, or lapdogs and the likes.”
A snarl tickled at Eris’s lips, and you were glad to have landed at least one blow, be it verbal. 
“You consider those overgrown bats yours?” he asked with distaste. “So it’s true then, about the bond?”
Blinking, you played back the words that had found you so naturally. Was that how you felt? 
Chewing on your lip, you decided to ignore Eris’s question. You would think of that later – you had a meeting to focus on, and you’d be damned if either the mating bond or Eris distracted you from it. 
You didn’t have time to throw a final insult his way before Thesan pulled the double doors open, eight pairs of eyes now set on you, and Eris no where in sight. 
“Y/N, we are ready for you,” Thesan said with a soft smile. 
You gulped before straightening yourself, stepping into the room and facing the most important moment of your entire existence, whether you were ready or not.
--------
Part 6>>>
AN: SURPRISE guest appearance by Eris ;) ;) ;) Hello hello lovelies, thank you so much for your patience on this part, I know it took a while ❤️  I am so so excited to finally explore a bit of Cazriel's perspective, and get their side to the story. I hope I've done all the characters justice so far! And there's still so much to explore – I am very keen to share the next part and see how this High Lords meeting goes down (let's face it, there will be TEA). As always, I LOVE hearing your thoughts and opinions on the fic, so pretty please drop me a comment or ask anytime! Hope you're all well and are taking care of yourselves too. MWAH!  ❤️  ❤️  ❤️ 
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pasukiyo · 1 year
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Hey, I loved your Tom Riddle fanfic, Addiction! Can you please write a part 2 of this where he starts ignoring her after this cuz the ✨scary feelings are getting out of control✨ so she tries to make him jealous and *you can guess what happens next*?
𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 | tom riddle
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tom riddle x f!ravenclaw prefect reader 4,221 words notes; this can be read as its own imagine. but, for a little more context, you can read addiction here. warnings; smut and a little angst
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 “I see you’ve been spending a lot of time with that Ravenclaw prefect, my Lord.”
 Tom said nothing, only glanced Avery’s way in acknowledgement over the top of his Potions book. Avery and Lestrange shared an amused grin as they eyed their friend, and Lestrange leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees. “She’s pretty,” he said, and again, Tom said nothing but he could feel his muscles tense, his jaw locking at Lestrange’s words. 
 Avery smirked over at Lestrange and scooted towards the edge of his seat, tilting his chin down so that Tom may hear what he said next. “She seems to fancy you, you know,” Avery whispered, and Tom glanced over at him again. His brow furrowed at their smirks, but again, he remained silent. “And forgive me if I’m wrong but… it seems that you… feel the same.”
 Tom set his Potions book down onto the table in front of him and leaned back into the cushions of his seat, clasping his hands together in his lap. He eyed the two boys before him, expression blank but still, his actions seemed calculated, as if everything he did was carefully planned. 
 “Since when did how I feel become either of your concerns?” Tom asked, and the two boys in front of him seemed to flush at this, and they both shared a look. A silence ensued, and Tom felt relieved to think that the conversation was over. That was, until Lestrange cleared his throat and leaned forward again. 
 “Forgive me, my Lord, but…” he trailed off and glanced at Tom, his gaze sharp and daring him to continue. “…you’ve been spending quite some time with her lately. It almost seems to me, to us, that… you’ve gone soft.”
 Tom blinked at this, could feel his jaw tense again, his fingers curling into his palms to form fists. It was true that he had been spending more and more time with her lately but for them to think that he could’ve gone soft? 
 Foolish. They were foolish to think that he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, did not have his priorities sorted. His priority, of course, was seeking information about Horcruxes, and to even begin thinking that she could deter him from this path made him so… so… 
 Tom blinked. What if Avery and Lestrange were right? What if this thing he felt for her— whether that be love or simply infatuation— was making him soft? The feelings he had only really acknowledged just weeks before on the top of the Astronomy Tower, the fluttery feeling he got in his chest when she was near, the panic and dread he felt at the idea that something could happen to her— it was a weakness. He told her that very night, and still, he couldn’t push her away, couldn’t resist the urge to have her as close as possible. 
 It was sickening, the way he felt, that he was even capable of feeling such things. Tom Riddle was many things, but a coward, he was not. But this premonition that he could potentially be falling in love… It frightened him. 
 He cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure, pushing himself off of the sofa cushion to look down at the two boys still sitting before him. “I think… that the two of you must be foolish to think so poorly of me,” Tom said, and Avery and Lestrange scrambled to their feet, shaking their heads. “My Lord, that was not our intention—“
 Tom raised a hand to silence them, and the two boys pressed their lips together, practically shriveling away where they stood. “You are to never question where my priorities lie from now on,” Tom stated, and the two boys bowed their heads, their bodies shaking. “And please, don’t the both of you have essays for Professor Slughorn to write?”
 And with that, Tom strode off, heading for his dormitory, leaving both Avery and Lestrange shaking in the Slytherin common room. 
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 Tom found that the easiest way to ignore her presence was to not look her way at all. He would usually avoid walking down the same corridor as her altogether, which was easy enough the first few days. But as time went on, he suspected she began to grow worried, and avoiding her seemingly became more and more difficult. So instead, he would walk by without so much as sparing her a glance, always leaving her dumbfounded and confused, wondering whether or not she’d done him wrong.
 She watched as Tom walked by, his expression blank, his eyes set to the hallway ahead. He didn’t even acknowledge her, and she could feel her heart stutter in her chest, and she swore she could even feel a few fragments tear from it and flutter down to the depths of her stomach. 
 Could she perhaps have done something wrong? She searched her brain for anything, anything she said or done that could’ve possibly upset him, but turned up with nothing. She couldn’t help but feel insecure, worried even that she messed up the beautiful thing she thought they had. 
 She had to talk to Tom. It was the only way to ease her growing concern, the only way to piece her heart back together. 
 However, trying to flag Tom down proved more difficult than she anticipated. It certainly was no help that she had no classes with him, since he was a year ahead, and couldn’t even rely on lunch or dinner since he never seemed to stick around for long after she arrived in the Great Hall. He never seemed to be on duty at night when she was, and it wasn’t like she could enter the Slytherin common room herself to track him down. 
 She felt helpless, with absolutely no way of finding Tom or grabbing his attention. 
 Until one night, as she patrolled up and down one of Hogwarts’ many corridors when she swore she saw the end of a student’s robes up ahead. She picked up her pace with the intent of catching whomever it was out of bed, only to find that it was none other than Tom Riddle himself, walking down the hallway. 
 “Tom!” She exclaimed, and she swore she could see his shoulders tense at the sound of her voice, his feet stopping in their tracks. She rushed towards him, stepping in front of him before he could even think to hurry away. For the first time in days, she gazed up into Tom Riddle’s dark eyes, and for a moment, she seemed to relax. Her lips curved up into a smile at the sight of him, and she stepped closer. “You’ve been terribly difficult to catch lately.”
 Tom said nothing, his jaw clenching as he stared down at her, and her smile quickly faded. She tilted her head, her hand reaching for his but he did not let her hold him, slipping his fingers away from hers before she could grab ahold of them. She flinched at the action, gazing back up at him. “Is everything alright?” She asked. “You seem to have been ignoring me as of late.”
 Tom’s brow wrinkled as he watched her, her fingers now locked together and fondling with each other, her eyes darting from his down to the floor. “Have I… have I done something wrong?” She questioned, blinking up at him. He noticed the way tears brimmed the outskirts of her sockets, and he noticed the way she tried to blink them away. 
 His heart thud against his chest. Why did he want to hold her? Why did he want to draw her into his chest and feel her close? Why did he feel angry at her tears? Why did he hate that he was seemingly breaking her heart? Wasn’t this what he wanted all along? To keep her away? 
 “Tom?” She said after a while of silence, but she didn’t dare make any more moves to touch him. With the same blank and unchanging expression, he glimpsed down at her, pushing down every sick and wretched feeling he felt towards her. 
 “No,” he finally said. “You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.”
 And with that, Tom walked away, leaving her to stand alone in the hallway more puzzled than ever. 
 Tears made her eyes sting and she rubbed at her eyes, desperate to make them go away. All she could feel now was anger, red hot anger at the boy she was watching walk away. Her eyes narrowed and she glared at his back as he turned the corner, and she glared at the place he once was too. 
 How could he do this to her? To practically admit to her just a few weeks before that he loved her— albeit, in his own strange and confusing way— on the top of the Astronomy Tower, to make love to her and to kiss her and hold her only to push her away? How could he play with her feelings like this, like they meant nothing? How could he be so selfish?
 She pressed her lips together in a firm line as she turned and walked away, patrolling the other empty corridors instead. She had to do something, something to grab his attention, something to make him regret ever taking her and the way she felt for granted. She was not going to let him throw away this thing they had, this thing that she knew had the potential to blossom into something beautiful. 
 And the next day when she caught the eye of a handsome Gryffindor named Warren Collins, she began to work on the blueprint of her plan. 
 Warren Collins was a year above her, a seventh year and Gryffindor’s Seeker. He was tall, not as tall as Tom was but still towered over most of the school. His eyes could make anyone melt, and she’d admit, she felt a little weak-kneed when she first gazed into his dark, angular eyes. They weren't as dark as Tom’s, and certainly didn’t seem almost sinister like his. No, Warren’s irises were warm, like a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. 
 She caught another glimpse at Warren Collins as he and the other players on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team headed towards the Quidditch pitch for practice, and she knew that this was her chance. She made her way over to the pitch and made her way up into the stands where a few other girls sat, and she wondered how many of them were there to watch Warren in action, like herself. 
 She sat alone at the top and in the far right corner, her hands clasping together between her thighs for warmth. She watched as the Gryffindor team huddled together at the very bottom of the pitch, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the top of Warren’s head, his hair wavy yet well-groomed and as black as a raven. She wondered if he could feel her eyes on him when he looked up, staring seemingly in her direction. Her lips curved into a smile when he did, and he may have been far away, but she swore she could see his full, pink lips smile too. 
 It wasn’t long after this that the Gryffindor team hopped onto their brooms and began to practice. She watched as the Gryffindor captain released a used Snitch, and Warren soared through the air like a bird, tracking it down. She tilted her head up as he soared over her head, her skin littering with goosebumps at the chill his broom left in his wake. The other girls on the stands squealed and tried to tame their hair back down to their heads, adjusting their robes as they giggled. 
 And when the practice was over, she made certain that she was the first one to leave the stands, and she sauntered her way over to the entrance of the pitch, trying to make it less obvious that she was waiting for someone. The other girls from the stands soon joined behind her, giggling and murmuring amongst themselves about the players, Warren’s name definitely amongst their uttering. 
 And it wasn’t long after that that the team emerged from the pitch, and so did Warren. 
 She smiled when she saw him, his fingers weaving through his tresses, taming the black waves back down on his head. His skin glistened with sweat and he appeared the slightest bit winded, but he was all smiles, his grin only growing when he found her amongst the small crowd of girls. Two of the other boys teased and shoved at him when they saw her, and she giggled when Warren pushed them away, making sure to flutter her eyelashes as he jogged towards her, broomstick in hand. 
 “First time I’ve seen you out here for a practice,” he commented and she giggled, swiping a loose strand of hair behind her ear and faking shyness as she glanced towards the ground. “I hope I didn’t fly too close to you earlier,” he added, and she shook her head. “Not at all. And I enjoyed it, watching you practice, I mean,” she said and he smiled, cocking an eyebrow. 
 “Yeah?”
 She nodded. He pressed his lips together and hummed, looking her up and down. 
 “Well, maybe you should come to practice more often then.”
 She grinned, ignoring the dirty looks from the other girls when Warren gestured for her to follow him. “Perhaps I should,” she replied, following at his side back towards the castle. His smile widened, and he seemed to be staring, perhaps even a moment too long. She giggled at him and playfully shoved at his arm. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She questioned and he laughed, shaking his head towards the ground. 
 “It’s nothing, I just…” he trailed off, as if trying to find the right words. “…it’s just funny. We haven’t once spoken to each other in all our time at Hogwarts,” he said, and she tittered. “Plus, I was sure you had a thing for the Head Boy.”
 She flushed at the mention of Tom but made a quick recovery, shifting a little closer towards Warren so that their arms could occasionally touch. “You mean Tom Riddle?” She tittered. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. What I do know for sure is that he’s arrogant and definitely has a stick up his arse.”
 Warren threw his head back and laughed at this, and she noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he did so, how his entire face seemed to illuminate when he laughed. “Finally, somebody says it,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Only been trying to convince the others for seven years now.”
 She smiled, it wasn’t like what she said wasn’t the truth. Tom Riddle was arrogant, and definitely did have a stick up the arse. She didn’t realize that there could be others who noticed it too, however. 
 She and Warren made their way to one of Hogwarts’ many entrances and pushed through the double doors, entering the warmth of the castle. “So, what’d you think of the team, then?” Warren asked as they made their way through the corridor. “You think Gryffindor may have a shot at winning the House Cup this year?”
 She cocked an eyebrow. “You forget I’m in Ravenclaw?” She questioned. “Surely you remember I don’t particularly want you to win?” Warren’s eyes glimmered with amusement at this, and just as he replied with some sort of snarky, but playful remark, she saw him. 
 There Tom Riddle was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as Avery and Lestrange talked to him. But she knew he wasn’t paying attention. Not when his eyes seemed to immediately find hers, flicking back and forth between her and Warren. 
 As Warren talked, she snaked her arm around his and pressed herself closer into his side, which seemed to take him aback at first, the pale skin of his cheeks turning scarlet but his smile widening all the same. She watched as Tom straightened his posture and his jaw clenched at this, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip to suppress her smile.  
 Everything was going so smoothly, so beautifully. 
 Tom couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 
 She certainly didn’t waste any time, did she?
 Her arm locked with Warren Collins’… it made his blood boil. He knew what she was doing, he knew by the way she locked eyes with him, by the way she kept looking at him as she nestled closer into Warren’s side, by the way she laughed a little too hard at whatever it was Warren was saying. He knew this must be her idea of some game, of some way to tease him and to make him angry. 
 He was ashamed that he was playing into her hands, that the way he felt now was exactly the way she wanted him to feel. His chest burned, it ached with the unmistakable feeling of jealousy. He cursed himself for feeling this way, for wanting her so badly even though he knew he shouldn’t. 
 He cursed himself for waiting in the shadows outside of the Ravenclaw common room later that night, for feeling so obsessed with her that he’d wait for her to come out, which she did, and follow her as she made her way to the prefects’ bathroom. 
 He watched from the shadows as she slipped inside, and after a moment or two, he slipped inside as well. 
 He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her turn on the faucets to the bath, as she ran her fingers through her hair and set her towel down on the edge of the bath. He watched as she began to slip off her dress robes, leaving her in only her undergarments before he cleared his throat and she jumped, her arms instinctively hiding herself as she turned towards where he stood. 
 His eyes were darker than ever now. In the shadows, he looked nefarious. 
 “Tom?” She gasped as he pushed himself off of the door, taking slow, calculated strides towards where she stood, frozen. “What— what are you—“
 “Do you think I didn’t notice the little game you were trying to play earlier?” He asked, and she blinked, her initial shock melting away to give way for the amused smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, her eyebrows raising. “I didn’t think you’d notice, thought you were still avoiding me,” she replied coolly as Tom stopped before her, towering over her and eclipsing the light behind him. 
 “Really? You think I and the rest of the school wouldn’t notice the way you were practically throwing yourself onto Warren Collins?” Tom scoffed, and she flushed at the comment. “I was not—“
 “You were,” Tom interrupted her, his hand grabbing at her waist and tugging her closer until his breath loomed over her face like fog, until their noses were almost touching when he looked down. “And if you think for a second that I’m going to let Warren Collins of all people think that he has a chance with you, then you are gravely mistaken.”
 For once, she felt intimidated standing in his presence, and she found it hard to breathe all of a sudden, as if Tom just being there made all the air escape her lungs. She kept her lips pressed together and held his heated gaze, but he knew he had already won. She watched as the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk. 
 Damn him. 
 “Yeah?” She muttered. “Then show me who I belong to.”
 Tom inhaled sharply through his nose as he searched her eyes, a raging sea of emotion mixed with anger, with love, with lust. With the hand already on her hip, he tugged her in closer until his lips were on hers, and she knew had lost the second he kissed her. 
 Tom never kissed her like this before, not even on the top of the Astronomy Tower. Never had he kissed her with such fervor, he never did anything that his brain hadn’t already calculated. But he kissed her now with reckless abandon, without any care in the world. 
 He kissed her as if his life depended on it. 
 She mewled into his mouth as he stripped her of her undergarments and he made quick work of stripping his own self down. She grabbed at his hand and guided him down into the bubble bath, his lips finding the sensitive spot on her neck as they settled down into the bath. Her fingers wove through the dark tresses on the back of his head as his tongue dragged along her throat down to her collarbone and down to her breasts, her chest heaving when he collected one of her nipples into his mouth. 
 “Oh, Tom,” she moaned, throwing her head back as he flicked the tip of his tongue against her nipple, kissing his way between the valley of her breasts to give her other breast attention. She could feel his cock against her thigh when one of his hands trailed down her waist, forcing its way between her legs. She tugged at the roots of his hair when the pads of his fingers rubbed against her clit, and all she knew now was that she needed more. “Please Tom, please I need… I need…”
 Tom hummed against her collarbone as he let his fingers slide up and down her slit, teasing her entrance, teasing her aching clit. “What do you need, hm?” He asked and she tried to answer, she really did but when he touched her like this— Merlin, she couldn’t even form coherent sentences in her head. “Do you need me to show you who you belong to? Just like you said earlier?”
 All she could do was nod, and Tom hummed against her throat, kissing her skin, leaving not even an inch untouched. She panted when he drew his fingers away, only to be filled up with his cock in one impatient thrust, and she tugged harder at his scalp. He drew her into his chest and panted as tears brimmed her eyes, droplets beading down her cheeks.
 Tom’s eyebrows knit together as she leaned back against the wall of the bath, and he grabbed at her hips, fucking into her with the image of her and Warren Collins together like the fuel to his fire. Her moans were bordering screams, and her incoherent mumbling permeated the bathroom, bouncing off of each of the walls and playing like a symphony in his ears. He wanted to hear more, to hear his name and his name only from her lips. 
 “Say my name,” Tom murmured into her ear and she cried when he picked up his pace, his thrusts animalistic, inhumane. “Tom! Oh fuck, Tom!” She cried and with one of his hands, he gripped her chin and forced her to stare into his dark, narrowing eyes, his thrusts never once faltering. 
 “No,” he shook his head. “That’s not my name,” he said again and she shook her own head, not understanding as he fucked her closer and closer to her end. “I want you to say my name. My true name,” he whispered against her cheek, his lips right next to ear. “I want you to call me Voldemort. Lord Voldemort.”
 She panted and nuzzled her cheek against his, his lips pressing kisses to the shell of her ear. “Say it,” he whispered. “Call me by my name. Call me your Lord.”
 Her chest heaved as her cunt clenched around him, squeezing him so tight that he almost lost his composure for a moment, dropping his head to her shoulder. “SAY IT!” He shouted this time, and she cried out once more. “Please! Let me come, my Lord. Make me yours, Lord Voldemort.”
 Oh, how his name, his true name, tumbling from her lips made him happy, the happiest he thought he ever felt. He thrusted his hips into her harder, harder and harder until her body began to writhe and spasm with quake of her orgasm, and he fucked her through that too, chasing his own. 
 “Tom— Lord! Lord Voldemort!” She cried as he felt himself coming closer to the edge, closer and closer and closer until he spilled himself inside of her, his hips stuttering as they slammed into hers one final time. Tears streamed down her cheeks like rivers and her fingernails were etched so deep into the skin of his shoulders, she knew they would leave marks. 
 Lord Voldemort held her body close, breathed her in like she was the air itself. His palms soothed over the small of her back and her waist, over either of her hips. To think that she could have ever been his weakness seemed foolish to him…
 …because right now, he felt the most powerful he’d ever been.
 She whimpered as she let herself fall deeper into him, let him hold her as she tried to chase air back into her lungs. Lord Voldemort only held her to his chest, whispering into her ear how she was his, and if anyone, Warren Collins included, ever tried to take her away from him, it would be the last thing they’d ever do. 
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a/n; i wasn’t originally planning on writing a part two but i actually liked this idea and… ngl i feel kind of proud of my writing here 🙈 ps… thank you for the request anon! i’m so glad you liked addiction!
🥹🤍✨
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slyblonder · 20 days
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King for a Day
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MDNI
Youth Pastor!Mingi x GN!Reader
warnings: sex(gross ikr), its just a blowjob, mentions of fingering, throat fucking, spit mention, hair pulling, tears (Dacryphilia), i cant think of anything else ngl
word count: 1.9k (first long fic les gooo)
“You might want to get an early start on your Hail Marys then.”
“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit..Amen.”
Following along you made a cross on your body. This will not be the only time you do this today, and it certainly won't be the last.Mingi and his father had just moved into town, the new pastor and his insanely hot youth pastor son. You had to have him. You needed him like no other. “Lord forgive me for what I do later.” Fixing your dress as you got up, smiling at all the families that passed by you.
You were never the religious kind, you never participated in church, hell you rarely even came to service. But as soon as you caught a look of Mingi you were already in your closet picking out an outfit. You’d always try your best to match him. His outfits were very simple and appropriate but also so slutty somehow. It could be all his rings and chains but once you start thinking about it your mind wonders, thinking about how his chains would look dangling in your face. You shook those thoughts out of your head, saying bye to the last few families to leave.
Upon Mingis arrival to your town you were quick to sign up as an assistant. You didn't care about them damn kids nor the lord but here you were every sunday, helping by his side teaching about the lord.
“Thank you so much for your help today. I know it was a lot harder since we had a full house.” Mingi spoke, making you jump a bit. That’s the other thing about him that had you so enamored..His voice. It was so deep and husky but so soothing. You could listen to him for hours.
“It's no problem Mingi, you did great like always. I’m just happy we let out early today.” You moved out of the pew to now stand face to face with him. “I get to hang out with my favorite person.”
Mingi looked at you with confusion and sight shock, pointing at himself. “M-me?”
Despite his “cold” and “dark” image Mingi was a very gentle and even cute person. Any and everyone could see that. “Yes, you. Why do you think I help you out so much? Why I’m always by your side? Why I’m always at your beck and call?” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. Cute. Walking closer to him he seemed frozen, closing his eyes briefly as if waiting for something eagerly.
“You’re so cute like this…flustered and pretty.” Walking closer you stopped right in front of him, leaning up to his ear with a smirk. “If only the heavens knew how beautiful you look right now.”
“y/n I…w-what's going o-on…” You placed a quick kiss on his cheek, watching as his eyes popped open. He looked as if he saw a ghost but the tint of pink never left his face.
“Ever since you knocked on our door holding that gift basket, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so fucking good Mingi. I wanted you, I needed you. So I signed up to help, anything to be closer to you. Not only did my urges to have you get stronger, I started to grow feelings for you.”
Mingi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This is everything he ever dreamed of. Yeah, he was the pastor's son and had to keep up an innocent persona;but it was quite the opposite. As much as he was devoted to his faith he could never shake the thought of you ever since he saw you. He wanted to hold you, take in your scent…devour you. Mingi knew it would be wrong and go against his faith, but he couldn’t help but imagine such sinister acts with you.
“You’re very bad at hiding your gaze, Min. I see you stare and used to think nothing of it. 'oh, he's not looking at me, he's just giving his attention like usual…’ until I bent down and saw you staring at my chest.” You took a step back and watched his reaction with a smirk. His hands were balled up, his face still a visible pink, and a much more visible print in his pants appeared. You could tell from the way he stood there he was virgin but not in the slightest innocent.
“I- I tried to hide it…”
“Not well enough.”
Mingi bit his lip before starting to mumble.
“Wouldn’t you like to feel like a king for a day or even forever? I think you liked it.” You spoke with a small laugh moving to sit Mingi in the pew. He sat there and watched your every move, waiting for you to pounce on him.
“Y/n please… I can’t get the thought of you out of my head. I ache for you.” These words sounded like music to your ears. Mingi wanted you, ached for you, needed you. Moving into the pew you sat on his lap, feeling how big he was instantly and watching him let out a soft whimper.
“You might want to get an early start on your hail marys then.” You placed small and slow kisses on his neck, moving up to his jaw, sucking lightly. He sounded so fucking needy, and you to wanted to hear him scream in pleasure but decided to spare him.
“H-hail Mary, full of grace…The L-lord is with thee fuck y/n-“
“Don’t stop, keep going.” You began to bite at his skin, leaving small marks that would disappear pretty quickly. “Blessed art t-thou amongst wo- ahh…women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” Mingi finally allowed his hands to rest at your waist, gripping tightly with each bite. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us s-sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”
“Amen indeed, I can’t believe I have you all to myself Min. You sound so pretty under me. You’re already so hard for me, I think I should do something about that huh?” You laughed a little as Mingi began to nod very quickly, begging to feel something more. Moving off his lap you found a way to kneel in front of him. It was a little uncomfortable but such a small price to pay for what was in store. Mingi took a second to look at you, taking in how pretty you looked in front of him. He mindlessly reached for your cheek and smiled, knowing there was no going back once you started and he was okay with that.
You wasted no time and began to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, biting your lip as you could see his print more and more. Lifting his hips Mingi helped you pull his boxers and pants down to his mid thigh, giving you more than enough access. Mingi was big. Bigger than most you’ve been with, you were determined to take all you were given. “Please…do something…” Looking up at him doe eyed you licked a stripe up his shaft, smiling as you finally got a taste of him.
Licking up his precum you took as much of him as you could, moaning and slightly gagging at how full your mouth was. Mingis hand quickly moved to hold onto one of the ponytails, bucking his hips at the sudden warmth. Your mouth felt amazing, he was sure he'd cum in no time if you kept it up.. “Your mouth feels better than I imagined fuck..” Mingi moaned, throwing his head back trying his best to keep as quiet as possible. The worst part is if someone walked in right now, he would care less. All his prayers were being answered right before him.
Tears ran down the side of you face as you let Mingi fuck your throat. He was a lot more rough than you imagined but damn did it turn you on. You let your hands travel between your legs, slipping into your underwear and inserting two fingers to fill yourself up more. Feeling so stretched out you let out a moan sending vibrations up Mingis cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Lord, please, please please forgive me.” Hearing him beg for forgiveness turned you on so much, inching close to your own release.
You sped up your pace, fingering yourself fast and sucking off Mingi even faster. Every cell in Mingis body felt like it was on fire; He's never felt this kind of pleasure before and hopes that this will never be the last. Mingi grabbed onto both your pigtails, practically hunched over your body. If anyone had walked in right this moment they would just think he was praying. “yn i-im cumming! im cumming oh—oh my god…thank you, thank y-you.”
Cumming down your throat felt amazing to Mingi. From your face stained with tears, spit, and cum; your legs sore and shaking from cumming so hard. You both stayed like that for a second, Mingi finally sitting back breathing heavily. You lifted off his cock, making sure you swallowed everything and taking a deep breath.
“You have a thing for being rough, it's hot. You should also be thanking me, I just gave you the best blowjob ever.” You smiled, moving to place the two fingers you used to fuck your self in Mingis mouth. “A small taste of what's to come. Literally.”
You laughed and used his legs to help you get up, sitting right next to him in the pew. “Y-you want to do this again?” Mingi asked, shocked since he has yet to catch his breath properly.
“I told you I can make you feel like a king for a day, or forever. I think we both want forever…unless I'm wrong?” You searched to see where your bag was, reaching into the pew behind you and pulling it into your lap and searching for wipes to clean you both up.
“No! I mean, you're not wrong…I would really like that,I just feel like I'm still dreaming…” Taking the wipe he was handed, he cleaned up any excess spit and around his thighs before pulling up his boxers and pants.
“Dream or not, I’m all yours Mingi. I’m heavily devoted to you.” He looked at you with so much awe and lust, wiping your stray tears and smiling softly.
“I’m more than willing to sin for you, dream and reality.” And he meant that, no amount of repentance will make up for it and he was okay with that.
“You should come over this weekend, My parents are gonna be out of town. We can see how devoted we are to each other, like the lord wants.” You spoke soft, moving to whisper into his ear before pulling back and giving him a quick peck. “See you soon Mingi, or should I say pastor Song.”
Mingi watched as you picked up your bag and waved bye with such a sinister grin, you truly were a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He sat there and thought back on everything he just experienced, chuckling at how lucky he just got.His prayers were definitely answered. Thanks God. He shook his head and moved to kneel down, folding his hands and bowing his head. Might as well get an early start right? “Hail Mary, forgive me, blood for blood, hearts beating…”
©️slyblonder
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a/n :I FINALLY DROPPED THIS FIC OMG!! Sorry i took so long yall, life started turning me every way but loose and then also starting a new job drained me. But enjoy I hope yall like it, if not also lmk you hate it🗿 okay byee love youu
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tags:
@slvtiny @pandoora-the-pink-goth @pearltinyy
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squirmhoney · 24 days
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idk if this counts but aegon being jealous of you talking with another guy and getting all possessive is actually so hot?? like he’s containing all his frustration until you get to the bedroom and then he’s relentless and making sure you know that you belong to him (if that makes sense??) can be canon or modern whatever you prefer (love all your writing)
Warnings: Heavy on the dubcon. Smut. Fingering. Ass slapping. Dacryphilia. Super possesive and mean Aegon. 18+ A/N: I really wanted to go into more detail here and I feel like it isn't as good as it can because I didn't. I just have quite a few requests now but I loved this idea and I love you for sending it in❤️
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Aegon didn’t care that he had no right to be jealous, in fact he didn’t believe it. 
He may be married to another with his own children but you belonged to him. You had belonged to him since you were children, ever since you told him you loved him at the age of one and three, you had handed every right of your own life to him. 
To see you even entertaining the prospects of husbands in what would one day be his court was disgraceful in his eyes. 
But Aegon wasn’t going to make it obvious to his family or the ladies and lords of court around him. 
No, he needed to be calculated in his next moves. 
Patience was something Aegon had always lacked. But with you, he knew it was all about timing. 
So he waited, watching you prance around in your fine green silks. He counted every smile you gave away, every nod of your head and every single time your skin touched another’s. 
It wasn’t till you were laid out over his lap in your room would he even realise why he had begun counting. It was only when his hand came across your ass for the first time that night did it click in his head. 
For every traitorous act you had displayed to him that night, he repaid with a harsh slap against your skin. Till your skin was a raw red and your cheeks were stained from your pathetic tears as you pleaded with him to stop. 
“Stop crying,” Aegon demanded, hand rubbing against the sensitive flesh. “You only did this to yourself.” 
“I-I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, trying to look back at him. “Aegon, please.” 
But Aegon couldn’t bear to look at you, knowing he would soften the moment he looked into those wet eyes. You had an effect on him like no other and he couldn’t crumble and forgive you just yet. Not when you had hurt him so. 
He distracted himself by prying your thighs apart, his hand diving between your cheeks until he was met with your wet folds. 
“You’re crying like this, begging me to stop but you’re dripping down here,” Aegon chuckled darkly, finger sliding the wetness across your cunt. “Unless you were already wet before I found you?” 
The thought crossed his mind, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach as he tensed underneath you. 
You sensed it so easily, speaking before you even knew what you were truly trying to say. 
“No,” You screeched, shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.” 
His eyes met yours then, locking with yours as he searched for any sign of a lie. 
“I swear it,” you hiccuped, taking a shaky breath. “It’s only for you.” 
His curious fingers moved on their own accord, forcing them into your walls with a sharp hiss from your lips. 
It was always a stretch to take his thick fingers but today he wasn’t giving you time to adjust, pushing three fingers in straight away to pry you open. 
“You’re mine,” he said through clenched teeth, emphasising his words with a harsh thrust of his fingers. “You’ve always been mine.” 
“I’m yours,” you repeated, tears spilling from your eyes in agreement. 
“If I ever see you parading yourself-” He stopped himself, shaking his head at the thought as his fingers slipped out of you. 
You weren’t sure what he was thinking as his eyes left yours, a fear creeping in as his eyelids closed momentarily. It was sudden as his hand came against your tender flesh again, and you could only scream in reaction. 
“If you ever even entertain the thought of another, I will make it clear in front of the whole court who you belong to,” he swore. 
His eyes met yours again, softening in the slightest as you pouted up at him with such a pained expression. 
“Mine,” the word came out strained but he emphasised it with his fingers being shoved back inside your cunt. “Mine.” He repeated over and over again, synchronising each word with a harsh push of his fingers. 
You couldn’t even speak as his fingers dragged against your walls, the pressure building inside of you even if your mind was fighting against it. You hated the way your stomach twisted at his actions, the familiar feeling of his fingers touching you making you latch onto him. 
Even if he was only showing you cruelty, your body reacted to it, constantly desiring his touch even if it deprived of affection. 
Your whimpers only seemed to drive him on as he increased the pace of his fingers, seemingly focused on pushing you to your climax. 
“No one can ever make you feel like this,” he told you as you started to clamp around his fingers. “No one but me.” 
You wanted to respond in agreement with him but you couldn’t get any words out as you panted like a bitch in heat. Every thrust of his fingers had your head spinning and the breath from your throat catching, unable to make words. All that left you were pathetic sounds as you whined and moaned, feeling your stomach knot from his actions. 
“My beautiful girl,” Aegon said, almost as if he was reminding himself rather than you. 
“Yours,” you managed to whimper, thighs shaking around his hand. 
Aegon’s eyes were back on you as you came, needing to watch your face as you crumbled on top of him. He didn’t even blink as he watched every single reaction, from your lips quivering and eyes struggling to stay open as you kept his attention on him. He ate every single bit of your resolve crumbling as your cunt dripped around his fingers. 
He didn’t even give you a second to recover before he was yanking you up, bringing you to sit on his lap. 
You winced as your sensitive skin touched his trousers, trying not to put so much weight down to lessen the pain. 
It was then Aegon finally softened, his own glassy eyes staring into yours. 
“You’re mine,” he whispered, hands cupping your face as he held you close to him. “You’re mine as I am yours.” 
You nodded in agreement, being reduced to tears once again as you gazed back at him. You were struggling to keep yourself together, trying to hold your composure as you nodded your head at him. 
It was enough for Aegon, your tears consolidating what he already knew. You belonged to him, you had always belonged to him. 
You both knew it.
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nanawritesit · 2 years
Text
Obey Me! Dateables Imagine: MC is kidnapped by a lower demon and summons them to come save them
Demon Brothers Ver.
Characters: Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon
Trigger Warnings: MC is tied to a chair and slightly manhandled, slightly suggestive at the end of Solomon's, mentions of choking
A/N: As soon as I saw how many people loved the version with the brothers, I knew I'd be writing a version with the side characters! I've gotten so many requests to do so, and ya know, my now dateable babes deserve the same amount of love :) I changed the scenario a tiny bit since not all of them are demons, but its the same plot line, so ENJOY!
Oh! I almost forgot, I won't be writing for Raphael, Mephisto, or Thirteen since I don't feel like I know their characters very well. I'm only on lesson 28 but maybe if I get far enough into the story I'll start including them!
Scenario:
You thought all of this would be over. You had been at RAD for half a year now. All the demons seemed to be used to your presence and no one had so much as given you dirty looks anymore. When you first arrived you were the target of some bullying and pranks, but after the school learned you were under the protection of the seven brothers, that ceased to exist. 
So when Judas, a popular and nice demon in your history class offered to help you study after school, you gladly accepted it. It was your worst subject, and exams were quickly approaching. He was smart, pretty, and seemed to get along well with everyone. 
That was what you thought until you woke up in a dark room, tied to a chair looking up at him, horrified. Your mind drifted back to when he offered you a drink when you first came to the study room. He must have slipped you something and then drug you off to some secluded area. 
“Why would you do this?” you demanded, tugging at the ropes that bound your fists together behind the chair. 
“Because I think Lord Diavolo’s plan to unite the three realms is blasphemous.” Judas spat back. “Humans could never stand as equals to demons, and when I’m done with you, he’ll feel the same way.”
“I’ll give you one chance.” you told him with an ice cold stare, doing an awful good job at hiding your fear. “Let me go right now and I won’t call for him.” 
Judas laughed maniacally, throwing his head back to the ceiling and clapping his hands. He then grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to look up at him. “Go ahead. I’m sure they won’t do anything. You may think that he likes you, but he only protects you out of pity.”
You gave Judas a small smirk before screaming out for your beloved.
Lord Diavolo:
"You sure about that?" a deep voice boomed behind Judas. Diavolo's enormous frame practically swallowed up the inferior demon, instantly striking fear into his heart. He was in his gorgeous demon form, which he hardly ever sported around his subjects.
Diavolo simply crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled. His calm demeanor was somehow even more terrifying than if he were acting as furious as he felt on the inside. But Diavolo was a true royal, and he knew the best way to get to this degenerate was to maintain his composure. He took slow, dignified steps towards him, flapping his huge, dark wings with each stride. He stopped in front of Judas and put one of his massive hands over his shoulder.
"Forgive me my subject, but I don't think I feel the same way as you. You see, MC is more valuable to me than the entire Devildom." Diavolo was acting very proper, but it was only because he had to keep his image as prince. "However, you did put your hands on my irreplaceable companion, who happens to be a guest in our realm. Now I can't just let that go unpunished, can I?" The smile on his face didn't drop for a second as he patted Judas on the back.
He then snapped his fingers and summoned the royal guard. The lower demon cowered in fear at the many soldiers that pointed their swords at him. He was shaking in his boots, sweating and tearing up.
"Aw, don't look so sad Judas!" the Lord laughed, "The dungeon isn't that dark and scary. In the future, I wouldn't recommend kidnapping a human that has a pact with the Prince of Hell." The smirk on his face was positively sinister. "Take him away." he ordered, and the guard immediately left the room, dragging Judas away as he begged for forgiveness.
Once they were all gone, Diavolo immediately unsheathed a dagger from his hip and cut your ropes open in one quick swipe. You instantly jumped into his arms. He was holding onto you so tight, as if he was scared you weren't going to be there if he let go. You pulled back after a while and realized that his demon form had vanished… and that he was crying.
"Dia it's alright, he didn't hurt me!" you reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.
"I'm so sorry." he pleaded, placing his hand over yours. "I told you I would keep you safe here. I failed you."
"No you didn’t, my prince." you told him, putting your forehead against his. "I knew you would come in a second. I never doubted you and I'm not going to start now."
"I love you." he whispered through a choked down sob. "I'm never letting you out of my sight MC. I promise you this won't happen again. I'll do whatever I have to do to make this kingdom a safe place for you."
Barbatos:
That poor little demon. Barbatos was known to be the most sinister and lethal demon in the entire Devildom. Not even Lucifer entertained the idea of crossing him. After all, he had to be extremely formidable to work as the Demon Lord's faithful butler. He was used to cleaning up messes for Diavolo, and taking care of several assassination attempts before word could even reach the young prince.
At first, Barb was surprised that you had chosen him. He thought for sure that you would call for one of the brothers. In fact, the only reason he had formed a pact with you was because they were all gone on a business trip one day, and he wanted to be sure that you had protection. However, he was beyond honored that your first instinct was to summon him. He had always secretly been jealous of your closeness with the brothers, wishing he could have that kind of relationship with you. He just thought you were so nice and lovely, but he was afraid that you only saw him as a side character in your life.
The butler was absolutely enraged when he saw the lesser man gripping on your neck as if you were some toy. The glow of his dark, powerful magic radiated all around him, and in a flash he tackled Judas to the ground. He pinned him down with his knee and tied his hands behind his back. Once Judas was restricted from all movement, Barbatos chuckled in a sadistic manner for a while at the scene in front of him.
"Ah, my apologies, but did you honestly think that I would let someone as pitiful as you get away with hurting MC? Not only are they a vital part of my master's dream for this kingdom, but I care for them far too much to let you lay so much as your pinky finger on them."
Next, he leaned down to whisper in Judas' ear. "Don't fret little infidel, our fun isn't over yet. I'll be back for you in a second." Judas was banished to some other location at the wave of Barb’s gloved hand, and you never saw him again after that moment.
"MC? Did he harm you at all?" Barbatos asked as he sliced through your restraints with his tail. There was so much concern in his eyes, you were so touched.
"No, I'm alright, it was just scary." you chuckled awkwardly. You could feel your anxiety overwhelming you as the ropes fell to the ground. You were shaking and tearing up, not being sure how to handle the adrenaline rush of the situation.
He reached out a hand towards you for a second, then pulled back in hesitation.
You shouldn't indulge in their presence. He thought to himself. They probably want one of the brothers to comfort them.
His internal monologue was interrupted when you suddenly jumped up and engulfed him in the tighest embrace he had felt in centuries.
"Thank you, Barbatos. I knew you would come for me."
He was utterly frozen, totally taken aback at your appreciation. He couldn't help himself anymore and put his arms around you. He squinted his eyes at the warmth of your embrace. It felt like he belonged there, and he never wanted to be anywhere else from that point on. Maybe you did see him as more than a side character.
Simeon:
To Judas' misfortune, he assumed that you would call upon another demon to come help you. He didn't know that you were also close with Simeon, one of the highest ranking angels. You knew that a demon, especially one as low ranking as him, would be powerless in the presence of such a celestial being. That and, Simeon told you when you first came here that if you were ever in trouble, you could summon him.
You guys didn't have a pact obviously, but he had given you a special crystal necklace that would activate in times of extreme stress and danger, that would notify him that you needed help. He had given it to you after your near-death experience with Belphie. He didn't want to tell you for fear of jeopardizing your relationship, but he had a very hard time forgiving Belphie after that because he almost took you away from him, and... he didn't like thinking about demons wanting to kill you. He wanted to protect you and be your guardian your whole life, until you could become an angel like him. He really did like you and when he imagined his eternity, you were always there next to him.
He appeared within seconds, literally glowing with divine light. Judas was blinded at the angel's heavenly brightness, and immediately fell to his knees.
"You poor, misguided soul." Simeon muttered softly, placing two fingers under Judas’ jaw and forcing him to look him in the eye. "Going around torturing innocent humans... its not your fault you can't be as virtuous and beautiful as MC is."
"Simeon, I-" Judas began rambling, "I didn't mean to-"
"Hush now." Simeon interrupted, clearly not willing to give him the chance to explain himself at all. He leaned down to Judas' face. "I pray that you find salvation with your creator."
"No please!" Judas begged, but Simeon was already taking off his glove. He emitted an even brighter golden light from his palm, and Judas disintegrated to ash at it.
"My dear MC-" Simeon began as he rushed over to untie you. "Thank goodness I gave you that necklace. I don't know what I would have done if that monster laid a hand on you. You probably would have caught a glimpse of my dark side."
You laughed with him, taking his hand in yours. "Thank you Simeon. You always take such good care of me. I'm really happy to have you in my life."
His heart skipped a beat and he felt all warm and fuzzy. "MC... I don't have much experience with these kinds of things, but the way you keep brushing against death makes me want to confess something to you.
He brought the top of your hand to his mouth and kissed it before he went on. "I want to be with you, as more than just friends. I want to be by your side because you make me happy. If you'll have me, I'd like to be yours."
"Thank god- sorry, thank goodness." you chuckled, "I was starting to think you were never going to ask me. I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you."
He laughed with you, placing his forehead against yours.
"How about an equivalent exchange? I'll belong to you and you'll belong to me. It'll be like our version of a pact."
"Simeon, if you ever call our relationship a pact, I'll tell Solomon you want him to make dinner for you." you joked, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. His soft lips pressed against yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other squeezing your own, running his thumb along the back of it. He was smiling into the kiss, and you couldn't help but do so as well.
"Your angel pleads for your forgiveness." he beamed, looking into your eyes with such pure adoration.
Solomon:
You guys didn't have a pact, but he did teach you a special summoning spell to use should you ever have issues with your magic and need his guidance. He didn't anticipate that it would also be useful in emergency situations, but he was glad that he had taught you.
Solomon is the most morally grey of all the guys, so he would have a really fun time with this lower demon. His dark eyes squinted at the sight of Judas with his hand on the back of your neck. Then he held his hand out and put him in a binding spell, pressing Judas flat against the wall until he couldn't move a muscle.
Solomon strode up to him and pressed a hand on the wall over his shoulder, looming overtop of him. "Care to explain what you were planning on doing to my apprentice? I'd love to know so I can deliver a curse unto you that's befitting."
Judas was struggling against the magic to utter out a sound that would somehow save him from Sol's wrath. But it was far too late, for he had already crossed a pretty thick line.
"I can't believe a creature like you had the gall to go after the companion of one of the world's most powerful sorcerers." Solomon began, his magic causing Judas' veins to pop out along the surface of his skin. "I'm almost impressed. However, you still threatened my favorite person, and I can't have other heathens like you thinking I'm okay with that. Unfortunately I'll have to make an example of you, little one."
The sorcerer then placed his palm against the demon's forehead, delivering the curse unto him. Once he was released from the curse, he sprinted out of the room.
"Don't worry, the true effects will show up in a few minutes. After that, no other demon here will even dream of hurting you." He got you out of the chair and helped you up.
"Sol..." you began, fighting back tears as he held your hands in his own. "I don't want to admit it, but that was really scary."
"It's alright, you're allowed to be scared. In fact, you should hang onto that sense of fear down here. It means you're still human." he smiled, running his thumbs along the backs of your hands.
"Well, you're a human, and you're not scared of anything." you challenged him.
"Sure I am." he chuckled, leaning in closer to your face. "Seeing you in danger like this? That scared me."
"I don't believe you." you told him, shaking your head with a smirk.
"Perhaps this will win you over?" he asked before capturing your lips in a kiss. You relaxed into his touch, putting your hands together behind his neck, his own slipping down to your waist. You indulged in each other for a moment, then he pulled away and grinned at you. "Let's go up to my room. I'll teach you some protection spells, and if you're a good little apprentice, I'll give you a reward."
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lanaslovelyletters · 2 months
Text
𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ³
𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢��𝐧𝐬...
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Anakin x Princess!Reader
Part 3
Previous chapter: Part 2
Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing
Warnings: Light swearing (but who cares about this)
Last chapter recap: “The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in, “We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?”
Summary: He continues to fend off your questions until you decide to be bold, to which he retaliates…
Word Count: 1.5K+
Author’s note: So many people asked to be on the taglist and ily guys ugh❤️ Also, sorry for going AWOL. Had a lot of stuff on my plate<3 Btw, for everyone on the taglist, don’t worry if you change your username. If I tagged you before, I can tag you again<3
Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris @tatumrileyslover @itzmeme @lunalitva @marvellover98 @rorysbrainrot @moonlight-dreamer04 @kittyrumbl3r @itsoneofusworld
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“You’re not being serious.” You scoffed, almost grinning, but when you saw the look on his face— everything melted into dread and disappointment. He stared at you with stern-looking eyes before shutting the door behind him. You heard sharp noises emerge from the door, meaning he locked it.
“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed dryly before your body hit the bed. It was fluffy and felt like a warm hug. A stark contrast to the situation you found yourself stuck in. It was unbelievable, really. You were seriously to marry a Sith Lord. A slave to the dark side. Sure, he was handsome, but only as handsome as an apple could be.
Alas, you were far too tired to think about the whole ordeal. Your eyes grew heavy and it was becoming increasingly harder not to nod off… and finally, it grew all black.
(Break)
You woke up to the darkness of space creeping in through the single window you had in the room. It was impossible to tell how long you’d slept and how long you’d be staying there. Nobody would tell you a thing, and the Dark Lord would certainly never give you any answers.
A sudden knock pulled you out of your little trance, and the door burst open. In walked two troopers. They marched in, picking you up from the bed with a strong force. Didn’t Vader mention I’d stay here for a week? What’s going on? Ironically enough, you decided not to struggle or fight back. It’s not as if going back home was a choice anymore. You knew the dark side wasn’t forgiving anyway. 
“I’m not a rag doll. I know how to walk,” you complained, as you felt your body sliding across the cold, polished floor. When there was no response, you scoffed. It was loud enough for them to hear, but it wasn’t like they cared. They were simply following orders like mindless robots. It was as if it was their input.
After passing through several corridors and riding multiple elevators, you finally found yourself being dragged along to a dimly lit dining room. The layout was nothing fancy. A large table and chairs to go along with it. On one end sat Vader. He still donned his pitch-black suit, with his eyes trained on you. The way his hair fell around his face and the way his Adam’s Apple bopped as he gazed at you— it was to swoon over. You were made to sit opposite him. You didn’t dare move. You knew he could end me with the flick of his fingers.
“I hope you have an appetite.” Maker, his voice. It was rough yet smooth, velvety yet rigid… you were drowning in the octaves.
“Not much of an appetite when I’ve just been taken hostage.” No, you couldn’t give in. He was handsome to be sure, but he was still a ruthless sith.
“Hostage? You’re not a hostage, love.” Love. What was he playing at?
“I’m… not?” Your eyebrows were furrowed along with a scrunch of your nose.
“Hostage implies you’re here against your will and that I await someone to negotiate for you… I plan to keep you.” Though his words seemed daring and almost devious, his facial expression and tone told you a different story. He was a wall. Cold and without feeling. He seemed serious and determined.
“Why me? How did you know my father? Why did you want my family killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. His gaze remained fixed on you, as he breathed heavily and got up from his seat. His boots hit the floor in a threatening manner. When he stopped in front of you, his gloved hand held your chin softly. So soft that you almost felt comfortable in his presence.
“Curiosity killed the cat, princess.” As you let your head be lifted ever so gently, you saw the stark contrast between his touch and his demeanour. His stare was blank and icy. It was as if no life existed behind his eyes. Eyes that were otherwise so… never mind. 
“Luckily, I’m not a cat,” Bold. Quite bold. Did you care? No. You had about as much control over him as he did you. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, if he wanted to, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He wanted to wed you. To have you as his bride. As sickening as the idea of that was, at least you wouldn’t die anytime soon. 
“You’re quite carefree for someone who’s lost her entire family and been taken against her will.” You could’ve sworn you saw a faint smirk swiftly make an appearance before being washed out by his brooding expression.
Oh, but there was something about his face. It did seem familiar. You couldn’t place your finger on it. There wasn’t anything that stood out in particular, but oh there was something about his face.
“I’m talking to you,” he spoke in a rough voice, before tightening his grip on your face, burying his fingers into your cheeks
“I’m not scared of you, Sith.” A grin. His lips contorted into a wide smile as he let out a scoff,
“You’ve got moxie. I’ll give you that.” Your eyes met his. Force, if I had ever seen a man—
“Moxie? I beg to differ. Why would I be scared of a lowly Sith Lord like you? You’re not even the emperor. Are you even strong enough to—”
“Princess,” he breathed as he snaked his hand tightly around your neck, the pads of his fingers snuggled themselves into your soft skin. The tension was palpable. It could be cut with a knife. The way you continued to defy him and resist him…he hated it. You were such a pretty little thing, but so stubborn too. Too set in your ways.
“We all have our… limits. You’re starting to test mine, your highness.” Something about him addressing you as ‘highness’ clashed so hard with the circumstances you found yourself in; it gave you whiplash.
“I want answers…” your whisper came out shaky. Not because you were starting to lose your footing. No, it was his grip on your throat. If anything, you almost found him humorous. He was creating a paradox and running around in circles; essentially embarrassing himself.
“I don’t want to give you any.” You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. His logic was deeply flawed and there was no wrapping your head around where it started or ended. It was a mess. A tangled mystery for you to sit and braid together to form a clear path.
“I don’t want to marry you, but here we are.”
“Let me rephrase. I can’t.” His gaze diverted to the floor. He was clearly struggling. Either to recall or decide whether or not to do so.
“I don’t understand.” Your throat was slowly released, as he walked towards the door to the room.
“Can you at least tell me why you chose me? Out of all the women in this galaxy… Why me?” Your feet had somehow carried you off to go after him. He walked with purpose through several corridors, taking swings and turns to try and throw you and the question off.
“Please?” Admittedly, you were getting impatient. Desperate. 
“Say, would you like to know how I went about ending your father’s life?” He suddenly turned around with a menacing look on his face. It wasn’t maniacal. It was as if you were staring into a blank wall.
“Excuse me?” What the hell is wrong with him? Your eyes darted to the floor before you lifted your head back up to meet his.
“I asked you if you wanted to know how I killed your father. How I—“
“No, I heard you the first time. How does that have anything to do with my question?” He smirked for a moment before his smile faltered,
“You’re completely unphased. Didn’t think the king was that much of a horrible father.” How could he address your father like that? With that knowledge? How did he know your father like that?
“Yeah, well… he was. So give me an answer to my question. Why me?” The two of you stopped in front of a large white door. It had a face recognition lock on it.
“Because… I know you.” His voice dropped an octave as he stared at your reaction. You weren’t shocked, just confused.
He scanned his face and the entrance to a dark room was revealed. You were just about to follow him before he turned around,
“Do you wish to retire with me for the night?” What? Your brow bunched up together and you lightly shook your head,
“No… of course not.”
“Then I suggest you stop following me.” A grin was apparent on his lips.
“Evening, princess.” The door closed behind him and you were left standing there; completely dumbfounded. However, this unlocked a window for you to walk around freely, trying to find a way to escape. There didn’t seem to be any stormtroopers around. Marrying a Sith was that of nightmare fuel. It didn’t matter how gorgeously his hair fell around his face and how his scar elevated his overall appearance. He was a Sith Lord.
You needed to find a way out. By all means necessary.
To be continued…
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Please DM, comment, or ask to be added on the taglist<3
Here’s the masterlist<3
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dark-and-kawaii · 18 days
Text
Unholy
Raphael x F!Tav/Reader
⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request @rcehb-art : You go to confess your sins but the Devil has other plans...
⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: <3 Hope you enjoy it xoxo
⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Breeding | Dubcon | Creampie | Rough Sex | Masturbation | Hair Pulling | Pet Name | Spanking
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Your fingers grasp the fabric of your short skirt, your fingers curling, bunching up the thin fabric as you rubbed your thighs together. The nervousness coursing through your body only heightens the excitement that fills the confessional booth. Waiting to confess something so sinful and perverse.
The unforgiving wooden seat presses against your heated flesh, sending shivers of both pleasure and discomfort down your spine, “F-forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Your voice came out soft and shaky as you spoke…
The silence on the other side of the screen hangs heavy, it seemed he was waiting for you to continue. Biting your bottom lip you could hardly believe you were doing this, living out a fantasy you always dreamt of. To confess and touch yourself before a priest, even if he was just going to sit on the other side and listen to you… It was a twisted fulfillment of your most secret desires.
“I-it's been- it’s been a year since my last confession.” 
The thought of what you are about to do sends a delicious shudder coursing through your body, leaving you trembling, “I-I… I want to confess my fantasies. The things I think about when I'm alone at night, things that would be considered sins, father.” Your hand ventures away from your skirt, your nails tracing teasing patterns along your thigh, igniting a sinful pleasure that makes you squirm with wicked delight.
“Impure thoughts, you say? The mind is a fertile ground for temptation. Tell me, do these thoughts trouble you deeply? Go on, child and confess. There's no point in hiding anything from the Lord, my dear," he murmurs, his tone dripping with a sinful allure 
"I-I fantasize about being with lots of men, letting them touch me. I've thought about being fucked hard while someone else watches. I-I've- fantasized about having sex with two men at once, Father."
A quiet chuckle escapes from the other side of the confessional, and a smirk dances upon your lips. Your hand glides up the inside of your thigh, fingertips teasingly grazing the sensitive flesh. Your confession alone was enough to make you wet.
“Ah yes, lust, such a delightful sin. And now you seek absolution, to wash away the excitement with a confession, do you?" He asked, his tone husky and it sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth.
"Yes." Your voice came out soft, almost a whisper. "I've also thought about… a priest, watching me. W-while I pleasure myself."
You bit back a soft moan as your fingertips brushed over your pussy, a small pool forming onto the wooden seat.
He chastises you for your vulgarity, “How vulgar. In the house of the Lord no less, do you not have any shame? Do you not see the sins you commit?”
Your heart leapt in your chest at his words, a small whine leaving your lips. You felt the heat of shame wash over you, but instead of feeling embarrassed, it only aroused you further. Your fingers dipped between your folds, the pads of them pressing against your clit, a soft moan escaping you, "Oh, god... I-I’m so sorry, f-forgive me."
Despite your apology, the priest refuses to grant you absolution so easily. He revels in your sinful state, savoring the taste of your transgressions upon your lips and soul. 
As your fingers delve deeper within you, the lewd wet sounds reverberate within the confines of the small confessional booth, drowning out all other thoughts. Unbeknownst to you, the priest has silently slipped away from his side of the booth, his presence only revealed when the door creaks open, unveiling a man clad in the pristine white robe of a priest. The hunger in his gaze, the predatory glint in his eyes, is unmistakable. He gazes down upon you, his stare akin to a wolf eyeing its prey.
Embarrassment washes over you, a wave of exposure that leaves your cheeks flushed crimson, the tips of your ears burning bright red. Hastily, you withdraw your fingers, attempting to cover your now exposed state with your skirt, your legs pressed together in a futile attempt to shield yourself. Your eyes avert, avoiding the intense gaze that devours you whole. “I-I didn't think-“ you stammer, the words barely escaping your trembling lips.
You watch as he lifts his foot, the tip of his shoe forcibly prying your closed knees apart, overpowering your feeble resistance. Your hands desert your skirt, gripping the edges of the seat as the heel of his shoe glides against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, inching upward with an agonizing slowness, halting just before touching your unholy wet cunt.
His foot came into your field of vision, a shiny black leather shoe, you watched as he lifted his foot, the tip of his shoe forcibly prying your closed knees apart, overpowering your feeble resistance. Your hands left your skirt, clutching the edges of the seat as the tip of his shoe glides against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, inching upward with an agonizing slowness, halting just before touching your unholy wet cunt.
Tears well up at the corners of your eyes once again, your protestations tinged with desperation. "I didn't mean... I only... Father, please, I-I don't actually w-want this..." you plead, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and confusion.
Raphael felt sympathy for you. Briefly. Until he realized you were pantiless, just another one of those common sluts. Easy to break, easy to manipulate. And so he continued, rubbing the tip of his shoe against the soaked entrance of your pussy, watching as your body shudders and a whimper escapes your beautiful lips.
“Sin is sin, my dear girl,” he responds, his voice laced with a mixture of authority and sadistic pleasure. “And you are here to be cleansed. Don't you wish to be cleansed?” 
“I- No- , Father, please.”
He removed his foot, the sound of him removing his robes and the jingle of a belt buckle. Raphael looked down at your face, you were beautiful. Eyes filled with unshed tears, and a look of fear on your face. How he loved seeing his prey in such a state, the sight was enough to make his cock throb. And the way you were biting your lip. Hell, he wanted to push his cock in between those lips, but all in good time.
“Any form of disobedience right now would only prove to me and your god that your soul is too far gone and that you have no desire to be accepted into heaven.”he taunts, his chuckle filled with the deceit of a devil wrapped in the guise of a man of God. Countless souls have fallen prey to his deceptions, their essence stolen, twisted, and forever banished from the pearly gates of heaven.
He gripped the back of your neck, forcing you off the seat flipping you over, so your chest was pressed against the hard surface. His other hand came down on your ass, the sound echoing in the small confessional booth.
You let out a strangled gasp, trying not to scream, the sound coming out more like a squeak, muffled by your arm. The slap hurt, and the stinging didn't subside, it just seemed to get worse. You tried to move, to pull away, but the grip he had on the back of your neck tightened, “Ah Ah Ah, little lamb,” he admonishes. “I can see that you don't want forgiveness. That you have no desire to repent for your sins. Then you must be punished, and only through pain and agony will your sins be washed clean. Only then can you seek forgiveness from your Lord.”
The devil, disguised as the priest, grasps his cock, thick, long, and rigid, teasing it along the dripping slit of your pussy, coating his head in the glistening trail of your slick juices. Raphael presses down on your back, flattening your breasts against the wooden bench, forcing your ass to arch, tilting and exposing your throbbing pussy. He marvels at the sight of your puffy lips, parted and dripping, quite the invitation.
He saw how your puffy lips dripped and parted for him as he pushed his cock forward, sliding past your opening and nudging your clit.
“Ah~ ♡“
Raphael's brows furrowed, he couldn't quite believe that the noise he heard, that sweet, melodious noise came from you. He slid back and forth, relishing the sensation of your soft wet heat until he thrusted forward without mercy.
A scream of both pain and pleasure escapes your lips, only to be silenced by the taste of your own blood as you bite down on your bottom lip. Your hands clutched at the bench, knuckles white, you didn't dare look back. You were in agony, but somehow you were enjoying it, the pain mixed with the pleasure. Your body had betrayed you, and the fact that the priest had noticed and was now taking advantage of the fact.
“Look at how wet you are, how eager you are to accept the sinful pleasures of the flesh.” he taunts, his voice dripping with the satisfaction of corrupting a lost lamb. 
“Please-“
Your pleas fall upon deaf ears, drowned out by the sounds of his hips colliding with your ass.
“Does it hurt, little lamb?”
"Y-yes~."
"Yes who?"
"Yes, Father!!!~" He could hear the pleasure in amongst the pain in your voice.
The Devils grip tightened, nails digging into your skin. He could feel himself getting close, but he wanted to hear you sing. To make you moan, to give into the sinful desires you were feeling.
He pulled out slowly, looking down to watch his cock emerge from your clenching tight pussy, coated in your cream, your cunt lips clinging to his shaft. He thrust back into you, grinding into you softly before he began to fuck you, ploughing into you as deeply as he could. 
You couldn't keep silent any longer. Moans, gasps and whimpers escaped your lips, each time his hips slammed into you.
“Good girl. Let the church hear how you're giving into the Devil's temptations.” He grinned, his hands sliding up your back and into your hair, pulling hard.
You whimpered as he pulled, feeling the sting in your scalp, your back arching to try and lessen the pain. His cock dived into you, the sound of your wet cunt being punished by his cock loud in your ears. He pistoned in and out of you remorselessly. Your moans loud as your hips began to fuck back.
"Fu~ Y-Yes Father~!! God, yes!!!” Your cunt clenched around him, squeezing and pulling him deeper.
“There is no God here, lamb. Only a Devil, one who will devour you. One that will make you scream. Make you bleed. Make you beg as I fill your womb with my tainted seed. And when your Lord looks down and sees you, he will reject you. Turn his gaze from you and your swollen belly-“
“FU~ C-c-CUUUUM~!! PLEASEEE~!! PLEASE CUM INSIDE ME!! PLEASE FILL ME WITH YOUR DEVILISH SPAWN!!! P-PLEASE~!!”
"Such a sinful little slut, you are.”
“YES~!!!”
His grip tightening, nails digging into the flesh of your scalp. You let out a pained whine, feeling his nails cutting through the skin, causing blood to trickle down the sides of your face.
He demands your allegiance, questioning your loyalty to the divine. “Who do you worship? Whose cock will you serve? Will you pledge your soul to the devil himself?”
"Yes~, M-My soul, my body and my cunt are yours~!! I'm all yours~! My body belongs to you!! The Devil himself~! Oh, oh, oh my fuck~!! OH, FU~!!! HAA~!!”
You screamed as your orgasm washed over you, the pleasure coursing through you, a tidal wave, drowning you in euphoria. The tight ring of muscle, clamped around his cock, milking his hot seed as it gushed into you, the false priest’s cum painting your walls white, invading your fertile womb.
As he pulls out, both of you gasping and panting, he admires his handiwork. You, slumped over the bench, covered in a sheen of sweat, panting for breath, your eyes glazed over in a mixture of bliss and exhaustion. His seed dripping out of your well abused cunt…
But amidst the exhaustion, a wicked grin spreads across your lips as you gaze at the false priest. Your mind races knowing that the devil's seed now resides within you. The future is uncertain, but the past half hour has left you craving more.
In the back of your mind, you think of Haarlep, the man waiting for you at home. You hope that he will believe the lie, that the child growing in your womb is his….
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dimlylittorch · 4 months
Text
first official post of my own thoughts bc I’ve decided to let myself be deranged on here..
the cod boys with a chubby partner who finally works up the nerve to attempt to send a nude!! this is so self indulgent y’all😭
PSA: !! I’m probably a horrible writer pls forgive me !!
My Masterlist🌱
Reader x John Price, Reader x Simon Ghost Riley, Reader x Johnny Soap MacTavish, Reader x Kyle Gaz Garrick
Random Headcanons: Edition 1
Warnings: NSFW
(mention of erections, nudes, inappropriate voice recordings, probably poor workplace behavior lmao)
Price
y’all have to be careful with our old man!! you might give him a heart attack :((
imagine he’s just in his office, bored out of his mind filling out his routine paperwork. Keeps dozing off, doesn’t feel like getting up to get more coffee. Practically praying for some kind of distraction or crisis to present itself. Suddenly he gets a text from you!! You know he gets bored at work so you try to send him little things that he’ll look at throughout the day, funny videos, a pretty tree you saw, etc.
But this time? Oh lord. He opens his messages from you and he sees your image with the blurred setting? With the caption ‘just in case you’re having a slow day.. don’t let anyone else see, okay?’
Of course our old man is scratching his beard, trying to guess what it is. He thinks on it for a moment, but ultimately gives up.. he opens it and goddamn. It’s your pretty little self perched on the bathroom counter of your shared apartment.. naked. Suddenly another text comes through, an apology. ‘I’m going to delete that- it looks really bad, I’m sorry’
He just about slips out of his chair with how fast he’s texting you ‘Don’t you dare.’
Ghost
Ghost? Ghost is a different story. You don’t have to worry about his heart- you have to worry about yours. The second you send him something like that? Sweetheart, there’s no stopping what he’ll do after the fact :]
He’s had a rough day, having to train some stupid ass recruits (his words, not mine). He’s already annoyed- someone took the last packet of tea from the kitchen area, he got caught on a nail turning a corner and his shirt ripped.. it’s not our baby’s day, y’all :((
He goes up onto the roof to get away from everything before he punches a whole in a wall- or in another person. He gets up top, sitting with his back to the ledge as he lights up a smoke. Grunting and grumbling to himself about everything that happened today, just thinking about being able to go home. Suddenly he gets a message from you. He sighs softly out of relief, and mumbles to himself ‘thank fuck.’
He opens the message, seeing a few little paragraphs about your day. You know he can’t text much during work, but you send him updates and he reads them at night whenever he can’t fall asleep. That way he still feels like he’s with you/talking to you while you get a good nights rest <3
He’s scrolling through the paragraphs, deciding to read a few to calm him down. He gets to the very top.. and he drops his smoke on himself., dropping his phone too. He quickly curses, brushing it off and stamping it out. He picks up his phone and.. the screen is broken. He’s so pissed off, poor baby. He manages to open his phone and see the picture through all of the cracks. He’s cursing to himself at how he can’t see the full picture. Suddenly he’s on his feet, heading down the stairs as fast as he can, ready to go home and make you recreate that photo..
Soap
We all know Soap is a menace. He probably sends you nudes (with your consent, of course) every few days. He’ll be trying on clothes and feeling himself? Who wouldn’t want to see a cute naked picture of him in the mirror. This definitely isn’t his first ball game, be sure of that ;)
Johnny has been having an alright day, mainly doing his duties nonchalantly, per usual. He manages to finish early and decides to hang out with some of the boys today, he knew you wouldn’t mind. Goes into the rec room where everyone was relaxing, playing pool, watching sports. He grabs a drink out of the mini fridge and kicks back on the couch, Ghost on his right, Alejandro on his left.
Between you and Johnny, you were definitely the more level headed one in the relationship. You knew that if you texted him throughout the day, he would get distracted and not get any work done, solely wanting to focus on you (just like a puppy, istg). He had texted you letting you know that he would be staying a little late today. You were always nice about it when he did that.. but today you felt a little needy, deciding to tease him a little.
He suddenly gets a text from you. Ghost and Ale, as nosy as ever, happen to be glancing at his phone screen when he opens his messages to a picture of a naked you on your knees, on your shared bed in front of a mirror, with the caption ‘that’s okay Johnny. just miss you, is all’. Johnny practically chokes on his drink, immediately slamming his phone against his chest, hoping Ghost and Ale didn’t see. He can already feel himself getting hard, and Ghost and Ale just chuckle. ‘Might want to get on home, Johnny’ they tease
Gaz
sweet, sweet baby Gaz. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t overly accustomed to sending nudes either!! In my mind he’s just the perfect gentleman, never initiating something like that unless you bring it up first :3
Gaz is outside, helping unload cargo from one of the trucks, just a usual shipment of supplies. He’s sweating his ass off, tired and ready for the day to end. He takes a break, sitting on a case of cargo for a moment and pulling out his phone. He sees a few messages from you and he smiles to himself, loving that you think of him throughout the day. He decides to go into the bathroom to get cleaned up. He walks in, grabbing a few paper towels to wipe some of his sweat off with as he opens his phone. First he sees a voice message, and he holds it up to his ear as he leans against a sink, ready to listen to his sweet love’s voice.
The audio recording starts to play. He immediately freezes, his body tensing as he listens to you. He could hear a faint buzz in the background, accompanied by your soft noises, clearly enjoying yourself. He’s frozen in place, barely comprehending what he’s listening to. The short voice recording ends and he just pulls his phone down from his ear, dumbfounded as he can already feel an erection growing. You send another text, a picture of you with a towel, cleaning yourself up. ‘I hope you’re having a good day <3’ is all you send with it. Let’s just say, he went into one of the bathroom stalls and didn’t come out for a little while, making sure to send you back a similar message. ‘My day is so much better now, baby’ he texts back with his own recording
I hope you guys liked this!! Please give me feedback, it would mean the world. Let me know if you want me to make a continuation of these, or do a part 2 with more characters!! Happy holidays <3
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calliesmemes · 1 month
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EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
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“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”
“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”
“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”
“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”
“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”
“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”
“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”
“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”
“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”
“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”
“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”
“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”
“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”
“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”
“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”
“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”
“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”
“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”
“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”
“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”
“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”
“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”
“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”
“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”
“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”
“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”
“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”
“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”
“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”
“   I was born for shock value. ”
“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”
“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”
“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”
“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”
“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”
“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”
“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”
“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”
“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”
“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”
“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”
“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”
“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”
“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”
“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”
“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”
“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”
“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”
“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”
“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”
“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”
“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”
“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”
“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”
“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”
“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”
“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”
“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”
“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”
“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”
“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”
“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”
“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”
“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”
“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”
“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”
“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”
“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”
“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”
“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”
“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”
“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”
“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”
“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”
“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”
“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”
“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”
“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”
“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”
“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”
“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”
“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”
“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”
“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”
“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”
“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”
“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”
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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months
Text
retrograde, we'd shake the frame of your car
Oh look, it's a new instalment of our favourite neighbourhood DILF. Thank you so much for your continued support of this silly little series of mine. Please continue to reblog, comment and like if you're enjoying this!
Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader
Summary | Joel drives you out of the way of prying eyes for a 'date'
Word Count | 3.4k
Warnings | As usual, just dbf!Joel in general, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, fingering (f), unprotected PiV sex (Don't do this) and talk of contraceptives.
Part 1 | Part 2
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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The late afternoon sun is beating through the kitchen windows as you rinse the plates in the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. You smile to yourself as you place them exactly where Joel had told you during your party, before your mind wanders to more unsavoury thoughts of him. 
Your parents are sat in front of the television as you wrap up clearing up for dinner, making sure the leftovers are packaged in the fridge. You’re about to grab a cold beer for your dad to enjoy whilst he watches his shows when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
Joel.
Fancy going for a drive? 
Sounds ominous. This hasn’t been your plot all along has it? Sweeten me up so you can take me down a back road and murder me? 
Joel. 
Damn. You caught me. Guess I’ll just have to take you down a back road and fuck you instead. 
Give me twenty and pick me up at the end of the road. 
You pull out the beer for your dad but leave the bottle you were going to take for yourself, walking it through to the living room. You hand it to him but don’t sit down like usual. 
“I’m gonna go for a drive,” You announce, “Been cooped up here all day, just want to get out for a bit.” 
Your mom looks up for her gossip magazine and raises an eyebrow, “You be careful now,” She warns, “And be back by eleven, okay?” 
“I’m twenty-five mom, do I still need a curfew?” 
“Whilst you’re living under our roof without paying rent, yes you do.” 
You sigh but relent. You must admit she is right. You hadn’t wanted to stay longer in New York once you’d graduated, thinking the job market in Austin would be less competitive, but it was still a slog trying to find a job that paid well enough that after your student loan payments were gone, you still had money to enjoy life. 
You grab your keys and head out of the door, driving your car a few streets over to make it look like you did indeed go for a drive on your own, parking it up in the parking lot of the church. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to the Lord for leaving your car in his driveway so you could go and live in sin for a few hours, before you’re jogging the few streets back over to wait on the corner of the street for Joel. 
Within minutes he’s pulling up, rolling his window down with a wicked smile on his face, “How much for a few hours, sugar?” He finishes with a wink. 
“I’m outta your price range, Miller.” You shoot as you round the front of his truck and slip into the passenger seat. 
“Huh, weird,” He comments as he pulls away from the curb and starts driving, “Last time I checked you were free for me.” 
“Well then, aren’t you lucky?” 
“Very.” He says with a smile, as he free hand snakes to rest on the skin of your thigh, squeezing gently as he continues to drive to God knows where. 
You smile when you realise he’s pulling the truck into the reserve a little ways out of the suburbs. You’d been here before, sometimes on your own when you needed to clear your head, Sarah had asked to go hiking one weekend when Joel and Tommy were both working, and you think you briefly remember a high school boyfriend bringing you here so he could kiss you. 
The spot that he pulls into is secluded. There are trees that shade the small area that he parks in but there’s still a nice view of the lake through the windscreen of the car. The sun is starting to set, creating a mix of orange and red hues in the sky and it’s quite a romantic spot, you think to yourself. 
“You knew exactly where to come,” You muse as you undo your seatbelt, “You bring all your girls out here, Joel?” 
You turn to look at him and he has a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want the truth?” 
“Always.” 
He chuckles, “I used to bring Sarah’s mom here, when things were still good,” He points to a tree in front of you, “I actually think Sarah was conceived against that tree over there,” You gasp in shock at his admission, swatting at his bicep which has him laughing, “You asked for the truth!” He accuses. 
“So, you bought me here to reminisce?” You ask, “Gonna fuck me against the tree to relive your youth?” 
“You want me to fuck you against the tree?” 
You shake your head, “Not really, don’t think my hips and my back are up to the job.” 
“Don’t be so silly,” He chuckles, “You’re the young and agile one out of the two of us,” He’s finally undoing his own seatbelt, “But that’s good because I definitely don’t have the stamina to hold you up and fuck you like you deserve.” 
You look out to the lake, you can see the slight breeze is lapping the water to the shore and it’s so hot that you think dipping your toes into the water might offer some relief, “Wanna dip your toes, Miller?” You ask, nodding your head to the water. 
You don’t give him much time to respond, opening your door and stepping down from the truck as you break out into a jog down to the water’s edge. You can hear him open his door and the crunch of the gravel under his shoes as he moves to join you. By the time he catches up to you, you’ve already shed your sandals and you’re into the water up to your mid-calf. It’s not as relieving as you thought – the sun has been beating down on the water all day, so it’s like a lukewarm bath. 
Joel is kicking off his boots and tucking his socks into the top of them. You watch intently as he rolls the bottoms of his jeans up past his ankles before he’s wading into meet you. You can sense he doesn’t want to get his jeans wet, so he’s not moving any further once his ankles are covered in the water, so you wade into the shore a little, scratching the itch of desire to be closer to him. 
When you’re within reach, he’s taking hold of your wrist, turning your gently before his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as you listen to the sounds of the breeze rustling the trees, the water lapping at the shore and the odd whistle of birdsong. 
“This is nice.” You mumble, turning your head to look up at him. 
“Yeah,” Joel sighs, bending down just enough to kiss you chastely on the lips, “Wish I could take you out properly, darlin’.” 
You spin in his arms so you’re facing him now, a teasing grin spread out on your mouth, “Has Joel Miller brought me here on a date?” You tease. 
“Maybe I did,” He smiles at you, “There’s even a cooler with beer in the truck.” 
He leads you from the water, stopping to let you put your shoes back on, so you don’t hurt your feet on the gravel. He motions for you to sit in the bed of his truck once he’s laid down a blanket for you. He pops the cap off two bottles of beer, making sure he insists he’s only having one so he’s safe to drive you back later. 
He settles into one of the corners, letting you sit between his thighs, leant back on his chest. It’s weird, sitting here like this, not worrying about the fact someone might see you, or hear you, but you can’t say that you hate it. After a week and a half of stolen moments and sneaky fucking, you wonder what it is the both of you are doing together, but you don’t bring it up. You want to enjoy this before launching into the inevitable question of ‘what are we?’ 
You finish your beer quickly, Joel opting to savour the singular drink he’s allowing himself, but he tells you to help yourself to another from the cooler, which you do, “This all seems very wholesome Miller.” You comment. 
You feel him shrug behind you, “Just wanted ya to know I’m not just here to get my dick wet,” You hear him take a sip, “I mean, I am because it’s fantastic, but I don’t wantcha feeling like I’m usin’ ya.” 
You want to add something meaningful to the conversation but you’re treading on dangerous ground. In all your fantasies about this situation it was never meant to be something serious. He was going to fuck you once, tell you it was a mistake and that would have been it. Nowhere had you imagined being led against him in the back of his truck like this. 
The sun is setting fast now, and you can sense that the darkness won’t be far behind, then you’ll need to go home. You put your half-finished beer back in the cooler, moving around so you’re still between Joel’s thighs, but just kneeling to face him now, “Kinda want you to get your dick wet now though.” 
“That so?” He raises an eyebrow and finishes the rest of his beer in a big mouthful, “You’ll need to come here then, won’t you?” 
His hands are dragging down your sides to reach your hips before he’s shifting his legs, so they’re not as spread, settling you onto his lap in a similar way to how you’d been the first time you’d done this. You settle yourself down on his lap and let your lips crash to his. 
He’s squeezing his hands on your hips, gently moving you in his lap so you’re grinding against him, just enough that there’s friction for both of you, whilst he opens his mouth when you rub your tongue along his plush bottom lip. You let your tongue mix languidly with his own as you continue to grind your hips into his, there’s no need to rush, not when you don’t have to worry about your parents walking in on anything, so you’re going to savour every second of this.
“Look so good on my lap, pretty girl,” He praises when you pull away, just a touch, from his lips to get some air, “Feel what you do t’me?” He’s bucking his hips up into yours where you can feel his growing erection in his jeans. 
You move forward to kiss him again. This time it’s more desperate, a clash of teeth and tongue. You take his bottom lip between your teeth at one point and nibble, which causes a hiss from his lips of mixed pleasure and pain. His hands have dropped from your hips and their now rooted under your skirt, gripping fingers into the meat of your ass so hard that you think you might bruise there tomorrow. 
You let a moan fall from your lips when he bucks his hips into you again, feeling the bulge in the front of his jeans rub at the front of your underwear, but it’s not enough anymore. 
“Joel-” You gasp, “Need- more.” 
“What do you need?” He whispers, “Tell me, pretty girl, and I’ll give it to you.” 
“Want you to make me come.” 
He doesn’t say anything in reply, just moves his hands to hook into the waistband of your underwear. You lift your hips enough so he can pull them down, but he doesn’t seem concerned about taking them all the way off just yet. 
“I’ve got a feeling of déjà vu.” You breath out, referencing the fact that you’re in exactly the same position as you were that first time, even down to the way his thumb is teasing along the seam of your pussy right now. 
“At least this time there’s no risk of your dad waking up and shooting me.” 
“I kinda- ohhhhh,” You trail off as his thumb dips between your folds to gather your slick before achingly bringing his finger up to touch your clit, “I kinda like the risk.” 
“Naughty girl,” He’s muttering, but he doesn’t seem to care all that much because he’s thumbing tight circles on your clit that have your hands gripping at his shoulders and your head thrown back in pleasure, “Might not be your daddy that catches us tonight, but still, plenty of opportunity for someone else to walk by and see me with my fingers in your pussy.” 
He's keeping his thumb on your clit, but you feel one of his thick fingers slip inside of you and curl in the way he’s learned makes you come undone with minimal work. You listen as he chuckles when you start grinding your hips down into his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers, “Always so tight for me sweetheart.” He praises. 
You’re letting out little gasps and moans as he works another finger inside of you, thumb never leaving your clit where it is rubbing tight and purposeful circles. You’re sure if anyone were to stumble upon you it would be hell of a sight. You with your head thrown back, grinding down onto Joel’s hand to meet the upward thrusts of his fingers, his name falling from your lips a mile and minute and Joel with his head buried in the crook of your neck, licking hot stripes with his tongue along your skin. 
“Don’t stop,” You gasp out, “God I’m so fucking close Joel, don’t you dare stop.” 
“Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’.” He mumbles against your hot skin. 
Within seconds you’re clenching around his fingers and crying out into the canopy of the trees as he pushed you over the edge into oblivion. When you hear the shout of his name echo around you, you bite down on your bottom lip to stop any other sounds alerting someone to your presence as he works you through the aftershocks. 
He’s pulling his fingers from you, looking straight into your eyes when he brings the fingers that were inside you to your lips, “Go on, baby, clean yourself off my fingers.” 
You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He presses the two fingers onto the flat of your tongue and you’re sucking them into your mouth, rubbing your tongue over them to clean your slick off him. It’s depraved but the look in his eyes makes it worth it, he’s hungry for you, looks like he’s about to devour you in a second. 
He pulls his fingers from your mouth, replacing them with his own tongue. You can hear him groan when he tastes you on your own mouth, “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pretty girl.” 
You don’t have the brain power to respond – instead, your hands grip his belt and start to undo it, pulling it through the beltloops. Then, he’s the one undoing the button on his jeans, tapping your hip for you to sit up so he can shuck them far enough down his thighs, along with his underwear, so that his cock is finally free. 
Your pussy clenches around nothing as you feast your eyes upon it. Sure, you’d felt it inside of you not two days ago, you knew he was big, but seeing it in front of you was another story. What you wouldn’t give to wrap your lips around it right now. You would, but you were desperate for him to fill you. 
You reach a hand out as you’re settling yourself back on his hips again, guiding his cock to rest at your tight heat, “Go on sweetheart,” He encourages, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “Sit yourself down on my cock for me.” 
You do exactly as you’re told. Joel slides into your slick pussy easily, despite the stretch, and its mere seconds before you still yourself for a moment when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his quickened breathing below you – it’s good to know he feels the same as you do when he’s enveloped in your warmth like this. You start to move your hips, grinding into his own and the friction it creates is delicious. You can feel him nudging the sweet spot inside you as he moves. 
You look down at him, his eyes glazed over and his head leaning against the truck. He pushes himself forward as his hands lift your shirt up and over your head. You make no complaints when his fingers pull the straps of your bra down your shoulders and he pulls the cups down, freeing your tits in front of his face. 
“Knew you’d have such pretty tits, baby.” He’s mumbling before he takes a nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over the hardened bud whilst his other hand is working on your other. 
Everything that he’s doing is spurring you on. You feel him bring his knees up to rest against the back of your thighs, which gives you more leverage to start bouncing on his cock in earnest. His mouth doesn’t leave your chest except to switch from one nipple to the other, rolling each between his teeth, using the flat of his tongue to soothe each when he’s done. 
You’re half aware of the fact that your combined ministrations are causing the truck to shake beneath you – a squeak added to the sounds of you both gasping each other’s names, but if Joel doesn’t seem to care, then neither do you. 
“Baby, I’m gonna come,” He’s breathing out as his mouth finally pulls from your chest, one of his arms is wrapping itself around your waist, pressing you into his chest, the other rests on the back of your head, bringing your face to his neck where you start peppering kisses as he takes control, “So fuckin’ tight, and those pretty sounds you make in my ear, I’m close.” 
He’s fucking up into you now. You’re so wet you can hear him sliding in and out of your pussy, the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every upward thrust just another added stimulant in what proves to be an orgasm that catches you by surprise. 
As you’re moaning Joel’s name into his neck and clenching around him, you’re vaguely aware that he’s moaning your own, pulling your body off his cock as he spurts thick ropes of cum across your inner thighs. You stay still, listening to the sounds of your combined heaving breaths before he’s whispering into your ear, “That was fuckin’ close baby, didn’t wanna pull out.” 
You’re leaning back a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your sex-scrambled brain talks before you think, “Maybe I should go and get the pill?” 
His hands are cupping your face now, searching your eyes for evidence that you’re telling him the truth with your words, “You want that?” He asks, “Want me to be able to fill your sweet little pussy full of my cum?” 
You’re climbing off him now and shimmying down the truck bed, picking up the edge of the blanket to wipe yourself clean, “I’ve never let anyone do that before,” You admit with a shrug as he’s pulling his jeans back up around his waist, “I think I’d like it though.” 
“Well, I ain’t gonna pressure you sweetheart,” He says, following your lead in getting down from the truck bed, setting the blanket and cooler back in the truck, “But if you don’t wanna do that, might be an idea for me to start wearin’ something whilst we fuck, I’m sure as hell not wantin’ another kid right now, and I’m sure you don’t either.” 
You can’t deny that he’s right, you’ll have to think about it when you don’t have a million and one hormones running through your body telling you to scream that you just want him to bend you back over and fill you up regardless, “I’ll have a think.” You promise as he’s wrapping his arms around your waist to kiss you. 
What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turns into five minutes of you pressed up against the truck door, making out like horny teenagers who don’t want to say goodbye to each other. You suppose that really is what you are, just horny adults instead. 
“Come on,” He says, breathless, when he pulls from your kiss, “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” 
Joel Miller Taglist - @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33 @casa-boiardi
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