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snowsinterlude · 4 months

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What Weighs in Your Heart.

+18, mdni

(priest coriolanus x f. reader, mdni!)

summary: the priest of panem's church was the one you confided the most, that's the only reason for you to confess your sins every sunday evening, and that's why you always stayed until late at church.

c.w: priest!coriolanus, christian reader, christian guilt, altar sex, slapping, mentions to blowjob, grinding, fingering, squirting, church sex, dirty talk, smut, nsfw, public sex, dacryphilia, degrading, praising, overstimulation, sub reader, religious imagery mentioned, priest kink, praying during sex, sex in public place, mdni!!

the sin - heinrich lossow, 1880.

a piece showing a nun moans and a priest holds her hips. based on the events of the last day of October 1501, where cardinal cesare de borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI, supposedly hosted a decadent dinner party.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༺ ♱ ༻

every sunday, you spend your whole evening at the church, always so eager to please your religion and your god, but you knew deep in your heart that this was not your true intention.

you've waited until everybody left the church again, so you could ask father coriolanus to listen to your regrets on the confessionary – that's how far you can remember –, and with your moans echoing through the church and your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers, you cried out in pleasure, hearing his prays.

both of you weren't anywhere near the confessionary, if you looked up you could see the stained glass window with a image of Jesus Christ looking at you, and you'd immediatly look down again, the wet sounds of your cunt echoing through your eardrums.

"that the eyes of your heart may be enlighted, so you can repent for your sins and your place in heaven is reserved." he prayed, his fingers fucking your pussy relentlessly while his other hand held a rosary, praying for you. "tell me what weighs within your heart, my child."

you couldn't even speak an entire phrase without moaning, you didn't have any idea you were so wet and sensitive until the moment he pulled your panties aside.

"you didn't hear me?" he asked, curling his long fingers into your cunt. "confess me your sins."

you gulped down, crying from guilt and pleasure all at once.

"forgive me, f..father, for i have sinned." you started, legs spreading a bit more just so you could be met with a slap on your ass and a finger thrusting into your core. "fuck, father. i-i can't- i can't sp...speak!"

your eyes were closed shut, your mouth opened up to let him hear your squeal once he slapped your butt.

"the church is not a place for you to run your dirty mouth like that." he warned you, taking his fingers out of your core and making you suck on them.

"i'm sorry, father. please forgive me." you said, eyes swelling up with tears as he frowned at you, shaking his head negatively.

"tell me what weighs in your heart, so i can show you the path of god, my dear lamb." he said, both his hands on your hips while you shamelessly whined, grinding your hips on his stiffened dick.

"forgive me, father, for i haven't stopped sinning kn every lord's day and can't stop coming to the church only to sin." you said, your voice sounding to malicious to your liking. you truly hoped god would help you, the guilt in your heart was nothing near the pleasure you experimented on coriolanus's dick. "father, please. i can't stop thinking about you," you admitted, your own hand travelling down your stomach to reach for your swollen clit.

an action that, much to your sadness, was prevented by the priest towering on you. his hand held yours, caging them with the rosemary he held.

"you should know better than to indulge in such a dirty path, little lamb." he said, in a soothing voice while you thrusted back at him, crying for release. "look at you, you're on the right path to become satan's main worshipper. you're so dirty, so stained." you cried upon hearing those words.

"it is not my fault, father, i swear!" you cried out, your core clenching on air as it missed his cock inside you, throbbing inside you while he usually hit your ass. "it's not my fault! i-in god's plan, he made the devil so much stronger than any of those whose flesh is the main pleasure-" he gave you another painful slap, your lips gasping as the tears rolled down your cheek.

"so now it is god's fault that you are such a whore?" he asked you, grinding back at you, you mewled at his words.

"n-no, that was not what i said-"

"it is exactly what you said, lamb. you should watch your words." he said, the stern tone on your voice made you sob.

"i'm sorry, father. i'm sorry, i wasn't thinking straight, i- ah!" you sobbed, feeling the tip of his cock entering your core, your cries were too pleasant for him.

"this is what you wanted, right? this is why you're always here, looking at me with those pleading eyes that are always screaming 'fuck me, father.' isn't that right?" he asked you, a smirk curling into your lips as you nodded pathetically. "you can't help but crave what is not yours to have, can you? even if it's a priest's cock. i bet you fucked more priests in this life than any prostitute." he whispered into your ear, thrusting slowly into your pussy with a tortuous rhythm.

your brain felt too mushed up for you to even talk, so you sticked up with shaking your head negatively, your moans and cries being paused for you to mewl a bunch of no's.

"use your words, you are a bitch, but you're not dumb and nor are you mute." he said, his cock entering you entirely, filling you to the edge as you cried out in pleasure, his hand grabbed your boob aggressively, pinching your nipple as he turned you to face him. "do what i said."

"'m sorry, fa.. father! i'm sorry. i-i didn't fuck any priest other than you, i promise!" you cried out, the tip of his cock teasing your clit before entering you again.

"see? it wasn't that hard speaking up and using your voice for something other than begging for my dick." he said, looking into your eyes, and the smile he gave you was so pretty that you just knew that fucking in missionary would end up with you saying something forbidden, something dirty. he was right, you were stained after all. "you're such a good girl, can't believe you go around with my cum in your pussy looking that innocent." he chuckled.

he put your handcuffed hands on his neck, making you hug his neck before he made one of your legs wrap around him, thrusting into you until his tip teased just the right spot inside you.

"fuck! father, please, keep going!" you begged, crying as your head hide on the curvature of his neck.

he tugged your hair back, making your eyes meet his, the ones you were trying your best to avoid, the ones you knew that once you looked into, you would see the abyss of the fire of hell waiting for you. he leaned closer to you, his face mere inches of yours. he couldn't kiss you, no. it'd make everything worse- but god, his lips looked so pretty. so kissable. you wanted him to, and inside of you, your heart prayed he would. but he didn’t.

"you're so eager." he smiled, groaning as you squeezed his cock between your gummy warm walls and cried while he nibbled om your neck and earlobe. "but you heard what i said about your language. the church is no place for that." he said.

"but you- hah, god! y-you're always cussing around too! y-you called me a whore just two minutes ago!" you cried out, defending yourself in this situation was pathetic.

"because you are one, lamb." he said, chuckling as he kissed your tears on the right corner of your mouth. too close to your lips. "my language can be excused when i'm telling the truth," he paused, growling while his forehead leaned into yours. "your language, however, is just a bunch of fucks."

"f-father, please don't." you said, moaning while trying your best to pull away from his lips.

"'don't', what? 'don't cum inside this time'? 'don't suck on my neck'?" he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he thrusted faster and deeper into you. ah, you always looked so pretty when he fucked you and messed you up, such a slutty mess.

"d..don't kiss me," you said, for his surprise. and he chuckled at you. you could handle fucking a priest but couldn't handle a kiss? how cute. "you're too close to me, y-your lips- i want you to."

"be more specific," he groaned, his hips slapping in yours as his cock hit your cervix and his hand slapped your ass. "you want me to do what, dear?"

"i want you to kiss me." you pleaded, crying from humiliation.

"you told me not to." he said, teasing you as his thumb rubbed on your clit, making your walls squeeze him. he gasped, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he frowned, looking down to see his cock disappearing inside your pussy with each thrust.

"please do. p-please, please." you begged. this wasn't the first time you fucked him, but it would be the first time you kissed him, and in general, it would be the first time you kissed at all. "just this once. j-just today."

"pray." he demanded.

"what? no- not now. it's wrong. it's dirty" you sobbed.

"just like you. pray." he said again, torturing you as he montioned his hips in a slow, steady place. you gulped down, apologizing to jesus mentally before commiting the terrible sin you were about to.

"o-our father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name, thy kingdom come-" you cried, your heart heavy with guilt. "t..thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses." you closed your eyes shut, overstimulation hitting you like a brick as you sobbed.

he begin thrusting faster in you, your voice melting at each rapid thrust that hit your uterus, his cock entering deep inside you, his balls kissing your core as his member throbbed inside you. "keep going." he said, and so you did.

"as we- ugh, coryo! as we forgive, those who- who tre... who trespass against us," you groaned, feeling your climax arriving. you held yourself, prohibiting yourself from cumming in such a time. "and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,"

he kissed you, his tongue tangled on yours. such a filthy kiss, such a messy kiss, took you over the edge. his hand brought you closer by your waist, fucking you relentlessly while his other hand held your head, kissing you roughly. you came first than him, a wet mess being made on him as you squirt on him, moaning into the kiss as he kept going, cumming inside you right after you.

"a...amen." you finished, shaking as he pulled his cock from you, kissing your tears alway.

"good girl." he said, kissing your temple. you pouted as he cleaned your tears, and after straightening your clothes and pulling his pants back, you were still shaking, your legs trembling from the intense orgasm you just had. "be a good lamb and sit there while i bring you water and clean myself, okay?"

and you nodded obediently, sitting on the first bench you could reach.

he was so gentle to you. so good. your brain thanked heavens that he made you pray during that, even if it was the biggest sin you've commited, you knew that if he hadn't done such a thing, you would tell him you loved him.

fuck, you're a terrible christian. and to think your parents were so proud of you being such a church girl.

tagging: @tiaamberxx

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #tbosas smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #18+ mdni #mdni #coriolanus smut #smut #priest.kink #tbosas fanfiction #fanfiction

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houpss · 27 days

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I urgently need you to write about what if SKZ are upset/crying

you write so well that I cry every time from your works, they break my heart :( You're born for angst ❤️‍🔥🫶🏻

SKZ feeling upset/crying

angst, fluff, consolation, tears

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

Chan cries often, but he does it alone.

Because...he shouldn't cry. That's what he thought.

Chan helps everyone, he gives advice to everyone... but he is not able to help himself.

He looks like a drowning man, but he is drowning in his problems, he is drowning in self-hatred.

Oh...he thinks that he is absolutely ugly, that he is always behind and that he is always bad.

Tears of desperate pain choke him as he covers his mouth with his hand and hugs his knees to his chest as he sits on his bed in his room.

He knew he wasn't worthy of the fans' love or your love. What did he do to deserve you?

He slowly and surely destroyed himself from the inside.

It will be late Friday evening, Chan has had a terrible day today. He made a few mistakes, he's very absent-minded

He came home and immediately burst into tears. He collapsed exhaustedly on the bed, his body trembling with shame and tears.

He lay down in a ball and covered himself with a blanket, he wants to hide from the whole world.

You arrived a little later than Chan. you tensed up because the apartment was quiet and dark.

You went through all the rooms, but didn’t find Chan there, although his shoes and bag were in the hallway.

Your heart sank when you saw him in the bedroom, you felt his pain on you.

You entered the room and sat down on Chan’s bed, Chan was lying on his side, covered with a blanket up to his head, he was breathing heavily and sobbing. You saw several drunk bottles of whiskey on the table, it seems things are bad. You stroked Chan’s head and back as he lay under the blanket. You rubbed his back again and again. Your heart ached with every tear he shed, it hurt too much. Chan feels your gentle touch and sobs loudly. Tears dampen the pillow, his body tenses for a moment, but then he slowly turns to you and looks at you with wet brown eyes, full of pain and regret. “Y/n...you shouldn't have seen this... I'm sorry...” his voice trembles, he tries his best to stop himself from screaming, “I don't want anything to happen in our relationship because of me- that’s bad... please forgive me" ..."Channie..please tell me everything that bothers you...I will help you" Tears flowed from his eyes, he sobbed loudly and squinted. Y/n ran thumb over his cheek, wiping away large tears, they looked like pearls. Chan felt disgusted with himself, he was disgusted by his appearance and existence. The sobs slowly subside under your touch, and Bang Chan looks at you with sad eyes, they beg for help, shining under the light. * “I can’t stand it anymore... I want to stop... please help me...” Chan's voice cracks. as he speaks quietly, not daring to look away. Y/n smiles at him tenderly, but doesn’t promise anything yet.

"I know how hard it is for you and how hard you try...you are such a wonderful person, Channie...my beloved wonderful man. Why don't you take a rest?" You spoke quietly, stroking Chan’s hair. Chan wanted to protest because there was too much work, but he felt like he was breaking down inside. Chan sighed and laid his head on Y/n’s chest, he didn’t want to say anything, they understood each other without words. They are connected at the soulmate level. He didn't want to think about work right now. They lay there for a while, and Y/n gently stroked her lover's hair. Chan felt warmth spread throughout his body as you whispered soft words of comfort, “Go to sleep, my love... We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Eventually, Chan's sobs subsided and he fell asleep in your arms. Your love will heal him, it will give him redemption. You are his sin, but at the same time his protector, you are his eternal love. Thank you.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰

He is always strict with himself, he strives for an ideal that does not exist.

He literally wants to be the best everywhere and in everything.

He may be on strict diets, exhaust himself with dancing, or spend a lot of time in the gym. This all indicates that he feels bad in his soul.

He won't ask for help, he's not a weakling.

It will be evening, late evening in the dance studio, he is sitting on the floor and breathing heavily.

He worked out so much again for so long. His bones ached, his heart beat wildly, just a little more and he would collapse, but he wouldn’t stop.

Why do so many people underestimate him? Minho wants to be the best.

You will go into the studio and sit quietly next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He won't notice you at first.

His mood will improve slightly when he sees you and rests his head on yours.

Y/n took his hand, squeezing it a little. You felt how tired Minho was, you felt that he was being destroyed from the inside, he needed help. Minho intertwined his fingers with yours and his breathing calmed down a little “Y/n, it’s late, go home” He said, straightening his wet hair from sweat. "I was expecting you, you've been training all day." "You know the comeback is coming soon and I can't—"

You stop him and stroke his face, he looks like an upset cat. You straighten the strands of hair that fell on his forehead, “I know, but if you go on stage like this, STAY won’t be happy...take care of yourself first.”

He wants to argue with you, he doesn’t want to seem weak. He would never be weak, “Y/n, it’s really okay,” but when he tried to stand up, his legs gave way and the pain in his hip intensified. You jumped up after him so he could lean on you. "Don’t be a hero, Min, we’ll BOTH go home now,” he wants to object again, but the pain in his thigh intensifies and he makes a face, allowing him to be led to the sofa. You ran for the first aid kit, giving him painkillers.

"I will remind you of this, Y/n" he grins through the pain, but allows himself to lean on you and lead him to the manager's car. He is grateful to you, maybe he will start to feel better about himself. In the car, he takes you to his side and kisses you on the the top of the head.

𝐒𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧

Changbin is rarely sad, he is always positive

Perhaps...he will be sad because some STAY don't like his appearance.

He will be quiet and taciturn, always looking at the phone screen.

One evening he comes up to you while you are preparing dinner and asks “Y/n...am I really that scary?”

You frown and don’t understand why he says that.

"Binnie, is something bothering you? You're handsome, baby."

He frowns and hands you the phone. He read the bad comments again.

You go up to him and pat him on the head, his head was at the level of your chest when he sat.

"Honey, antistay no one and you should ignore their words."

Before continuing, you handed Changbin his phone number, but with a post where there was a post where Changbin was considered the best. He is the best.

He will smile and lean towards you for a kiss.

He will shine all evening, he will be like the sun.

𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

"Leave me the fuck alone for once"

Hyunjin will be furious, he was extremely annoyed by everything and everyone

As soon as he says this phrase, then you really should leave him alone.

He will pour out his sadness and melancholy in his paintings, he will completely throw all his emotions onto the canvas.

But

He will come to you later, but he will still be upset.

He will constantly talk about how terrible he is, how unworthy he is of your love, and may even question your relationship itself.

But he wasn't really asking you questions, he was just insecure and needed you to repeatedly tell him it was all bullshit.

You will run through his hair, stroking his cheeks and wiping away the tears from them.

Oh...it seems prince is a whiny boy.

Although fans believed that Hyunjin was perfect in everything, Hyunjin himself did not think so. He was absolutely afraid, he is afraid of everything.

He will wrap his long arms around your body while his head is on your chest, he quietly sobs and mutters something like: “please... don’t leave... don’t be disappointed in me.”

Give him love and care. Gentle kisses and long hugs will suit him.

He will cry for a long time, but because of his love for you.

Hyunjin is the sweetest person you've ever met. On the outside he is cold and inaccessible, but in reality he is vulnerable and soft.

Will fall asleep on you while you play with his hair.

"Sleep sweetly, my angel"

𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Jisung wasn't as extroverted as everyone says

He is actually sad a lot, there are too many doubts in his head.

He may get upset over little things.

At one point it all resulted in tears.

You found him in tears in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and crying. He cried so hard and a lot.

His soul seems to be rotting from the inside.

“There is no loneliness worse than loneliness in society. Everyone laughs, but you want to cry.” This describes his life

You will hug him tightly while his limp arms cling to you.

He cries quietly in your arms, but does not explain the reasons. But you don’t ask him to tell you.

Even the funniest person can be broken at heart.

Jisung has lost his way out of his darkness.

He had not seen a way out for a long time. He was lost in the dark forest of his own thoughts.

need to live, not exist.

Will you be his light in this pain?

Then, Jisung will say for the first time that he appreciates you. Cherish these words until the last moment.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

He tries not to be upset, because the sun is never sad.

Felix hides his upset under a smile.

But... he won't deceive you.

He is too open and soft with you

He will cuddle up to you and tell you everything, he will be open with you and tell you about all his experiences.

"You came and everything became better"

He feels good and calm with you. You are his sedative.

He is like a kitten that needs all the love and affection.

He will sob and talk about all the problems.

You gently stroke his back, sometimes stroke his head. Throughout his story, you give him tactility and kisses.

The sadness will soon go away and you will go bake brownies or some other sweet together.

After crying, his face is little reddish, his eyelashes are pinched and his lips are swollen...he is a crying angel.

You will fulfill his every wish in order to prevent his tears! You have to tell him a lot of exciting stories to make him smile.

He must love flowers. Give him a bouquet)

If one kiss was not enough, then ten, if ten were not enough, then a hundred and even more.

The sun is shining again, and your sun happily moves around the kitchen and cooks with you.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

You didn’t know the last time you saw Seungmin sad, he didn’t care about anything at all.

He is sad alone, but he often remembers you. Thinking about you gives him peace.

He listens to any music and looks at your photos. He thinks a lot

You never touch him when he's sad. You just give him your soft toy and a glass of water.

It will take him a few hours, but he will be completely back to normal.

Seungmin never shares his experiences, but you know everything that happens on a subconscious level.

Perhaps he likes to go for a walk when bad thoughts come over him.

Only then will he call you and ask you to come.

You will walk in silence, only his cold hand gave him away.

Surrounded by your scent and beautiful views, he felt better.

When you get home, help him change and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He will feel better.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

He hides his emotions.

No one needs to know how he feel.

Jeongin didn’t like unnecessary attention and didn’t talk much about his feelings.

But you know Jeongin from bones to toe.

He seems angry, but he is only upset in his heart.

Jeongin will be clingier than usual and won't talk much.

You ask what happened, and he will exhale heavily and try to tell you.

Jeongin's story will be a little incoherent, but he put his soul into his experiences.

You will help him solve his problems, because nuna/hyung always loves him!

He will feel better with your presence, as if you transferred your positive energy to him!

You will go for a walk, and then go shopping, because Jongin feels better when he buys new beautiful clothes.

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mvskedxrtist · 1 month

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Not so Pure Anymore

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PnP (Porn no Plot), Daddy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Degration, Humiliation Kink, Sensory Deprivation

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Guess who's back y'all! Took some time off because of stress but also just because of school, I wanted to to focus more on my school work and all but I'm back. I'm slowly gonna start posting again with a welcome to Simeon here. This probably won't be my best work, so I'm saying sorry in advance.

AMAB!Reader x Virgin!Simeon - Not so Pure Anymore

Simeon didn't know how you tempted him to sin yet he doesn't regret it. He was laying down on his bed, his eyes covered with your tie as you undressed each other and kissed his neck all over. "Y-Y/N..~" He whimpered softly while kissing you passionately.

You chuckled under your breath and pinned Simeon down to the bed as you slid your cock right into his ass, groaning softly as you started pounding his asshole fast, loud slaps filling the room along with the angel's moans. "Aww, look at my dirty angel~ looking so broken already with just a few thrusts~.. I wonder how many people have taken you down on their dicks..."

Simeon was blushing furiously and whimpered while he could feel his asshole be stretched by you. His face was flushed as he thought through your words. Both of you knew that Simeon's never been with someone, but teasing him was just fun to you. "N-no one, Daddy~ o-only you~ you're the only one~" He whined a bit louder while you leaned closed and thrusted harder in him.

"Wow Simeon~ I wonder if poor Luke can hear your moans from across the hall?~ You wouldn't want his innocence to be gone like yours, now would you?~" You kept taunting him while slowing down a bit, looking down at Simeon to see his flushed face. The angel didn't want Luke to see him like this, so why was his body reacting so lewdly to your words?

His wings came out of his back to try and cover his face but you spread his wings apart so then he couldn't try to cover himself. "Wow you're a dirty slut~ you're leaking from just my words!~" Simeon had moaned loudly once you touched his wings, his back arching while he tried to hold your hands.

Simeon could feel something throbbing inside of him and whimpered, his own cock leaking precum as you held his hips tight and thrusted faster inside of his asshole. "H-hah~ f-fuck...~ Oh fuck I wanna cum~ I need yours please!~" He begged you endlessly as you grunted and leaned towards his ear. "Aww~ you want my cum, slut? You want me to fill you up and get you pregnant?~" You whispered in his ear while Simeon nodded his head wildly and came all over his chest in response as he could feel you getting deeper.

You slammed yourself into his asshole as deep as you could, groaning loudly while you came inside of him, both of you panting heavily while you just continued to come inside of Simeon. You chuckled and pulled the tie off of Simeon, seeing some tears in his eyes from the euphoric experience. "Damn... That felt amazing~" You groaned and chuckled, laying down next to him without pulling out.

You kissed his face all over and chuckled, wiping the tears away. "Seems you're not so pure anymore~ Think anyone's going to find out?"

#my writing #smut #top reader #mvsked.writing #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader smut #obey me simeon #om! simeon #simeon x reader #submisive and breedable #dom reader

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sylasthegrim · 3 months

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The Essential Mercy of Pain

Aegon x Targaryen!reader (daughter of Rhaenyra)

Wordcount: 2,755

Tags: dark characters, canon typical violence, smut, third-person narrative

Aegon chases his wife to Dragonstone only to be confronted with Rhaenyra and her refusal of his terms of peace, forcing him to get rid of her. Now his wife must navigate her grief for her mother and her residual love for her Aegon.

This is a sequel to Since Nothing is Forever Yours.

Aegon Masterlist

The problem of pain is that I cannot feel [his] and he cannot feel mine. This, I suppose, is also the essential mercy of pain.

—Eula Biss.

The gray sands of Dragonstone stuck to her feet, the hem of her dress dragging behind her as she walked along the shore, the freezing water lapping at her ankles.

Behind her, with just enough distance to afford her a modicum of privacy, Ser Criston Cole was watching over her. She could hear the sudden metallic sound of his armor over the wind every time she walked a step forward into the sea, deep enough that the waves came crashing on her knees.

He was here to keep her safe, to keep her sane.

She fantasized about stepping into the ocean and letting the waves carry her away, but life was swelling in her belly, making her blood pulse and her womb quicken, and it always brought her mind back to the shore of life.

"We should head back into the castle, my queen," Cole offered, and she bristled at the sound of his soft voice.

"Be silent," she replied, and in her mind's eye she could picture his shoulders falling and his brow knitting in frustration.

She knew the reality of Cole's feelings toward her—she was the eldest child to the woman he hated most, and a walking testament of her sins. She might have been her mother's loving daughter, but she knew the truth of her birth.

Ser Laenor had been a wonderful father, but she had found familiarity in the warm way Ser Harwin had looked at her, and in the gentle way his thumb sometimes traced the curve of her cheek.

She carried him with her in the dark curls that flowed from her head and the insolence that ran in her veins. She was her father's daughter and as such, she would not submit so easily.

Despite Aegon's efforts, she would not bend nor break.

Seated on a low wall, his feet dangling above one of the stone stairs leading to the seashore, Aegon was observing his young wife as she roamed the coast.

Dressed in black, she was mourning the recent loss of her mother at the heat and breath of Sunfyre, but Aegon could not find it in himself to regret his actions. It had been necessary, a means to an end, an act of war and self-preservation.

He had come to Dragonstone to plead with his wife, and to offer terms of surrender to his sister. Sibling to sibling, monarch to monarch, dragon to dragon.

However, no matter the diplomacy and generous settlement, he had found nothing but resistance and hatred—the dragon had won, fire burning the sealed papers containing the terms of Rhaenyra's surrender and inclusion in the new family order Aegon was eager to build.

Sins would be forgiven, past quarrels would be forgotten. Blood and kin would be united.

Yet his sister had laughed in his face, a mirthless sound that had made Aegon's bones tremble with humiliation and anger. Despite the crown on his head and the army at his back, even his own sister would not consider him more than a silly boy playing at a game he did not understand.

For a moment he had thought she would strike him down, but she had been stopped by the desperate cry of her daughter, and both Targaryens had turned to her as she revealed her secret.

Horror had struck Rhaenyra's graceful features while Aegon's eyes had burned with overwhelming joy. "I am carrying your child," the young woman had said with tears in her eyes and love in her heart, despite the circumstances.

For a moment Aegon had hoped the spark of life inside her would be enough to put a stop to this madness, to this war that seemed to enrage the Gods and tip the careful balance of the realm into chaos.

However the next battle had proved him wrong, and no budding life was enough to stop the fire of dragons.

Aegon was pulled out of his regretful musings as he saw Cole signal to him from the corner of his eye, and soon his wife appeared rounding the corner of the staircase, glancing up to where her husband was perched.

She looked like a crow, emaciated and veiled in black, and the only proof that she was still alive was the swollen belly that filled Aegon with such tenderness. It kept her tethered to this life, and he vowed to himself that he would keep her round with child for all the days of her life, if only it kept her at his side.

"Don't you have more important things to do than hover over me in this way?" she asked as she passed him, icy-cold and resentful.

"Nothing is more important than the future of the realm," Aegon answered, maintaining his composure as best as he could.

"Might I suggest that you govern this realm, before you worry about its future," she replied, turning sharply to look at her husband through her thin veil. He could see the shadows under her eyes and the redness of her cheeks even through the fabric.

"I would happily govern it, if my queen only consented to support me in my duties," he said solemnly, and they both knew there was a painful truth to it.

Aegon was not made to rule alone, and would only thrive as king under the gentle guidance of his wife, with the support and help of his good queen.

"The queen is otherwise occupied," she said, venom in her mouth.

Aegon took a step forward toward her, the wind ruffling the lapels of her cloak and revealing the curve that hid below her black velvet dress. "I am sure growing our heir takes all your time and energy," he tried to offer with a small smile, but she pulled away from his reaching hand.

"Grief is what keeps me occupied, husband," she snapped, then softened, running a hand where she had just refused her husband's touch. "If you would excuse me, I will go lie down. The child makes me tired."

Aegon nodded at her reverently, suffering the look of pity from Cole as the man passed him, walking behind his queen and escorting her back to the fortress where she had insisted she would give birth.

Unwilling to go back to King's Landing so soon, leaving the protection of the capital to one of his brothers, Aegon had agreed that their child and heir would be born on the dragon island, and would take its first breath in the smoke-filled air.

Their son was born at night as the star-filled sky peeked through the smoke that came from the Dragonmont. After two days of labor where his wife seethed every time he approached her, Aegon had resorted to hover from the shadows. He kept watch in the hallway where the midwives waited in turns, unwilling to overwhelm the young queen.

Their son came in the early hours of the new days, with a cry like a piercing whistle that echoed the groan his mother made as she pushed him into the midwife's hands.

Aegon was only grateful for the cries of both mother and child, and joy speared his heart when it was announced in a triumphant voice that she had given birth to a son.

The young queen had wept from where she was kneeling on the red-stained stones, pressing wet kisses to her child's face. "It is you, it is me... It is us," she had vowed in the sacred moment where life begins and the belly is still soft, blood still fresh on the linens.

In time the blood had dried and her belly had shrunken, remaining soft where tiny feet kicked from the outside, their son's tiny body fitting perfectly against hers as she nursed him at her own breast.

The nursery of the Red Keep replaced the smoke-filled room of the Dragonstone fortress, as she was forced to follow her husband back to the capital.

As soon as she had been void of any child in her womb, her safety hadn't been guaranteed anymore—she had to obey against her own wishes as Aegon decided to bring his heir to King's Landing and resume ruling over his kingdom.

Their son was much more than a prince, but an instrument of the Targaryen dynasty. The heir, and the tether that kept king and queen together.

As war came to an end and peace settled over the realm, tentative and wobbly, the same tense covenant fell over Aegon and his wife.

He could never enjoy her company during the day, duties keeping them apart as the queen devoted her every waking moment to the care of their son, and the care of the orphans of the capital. She was loved and pitied, having known loss and horror as much as the families she helped provide for.

Whenever Aegon sought her company and was refused, she never lashed out at him, instead hid behind her righteousness and her duties. "I was expecting you at supper," Aegon remarked amicably as he found his wife in the nursery once again, in the first hour of the darkness.

"I was occupied," she replied, barely looking up from her embroidery.

In the cradle next to her chair, their son was asleep, deep in the land of dreams—if babes only dreamt.

"Surely a nurse can attend him if he wakes," Aegon sighed. "It would be good if the king and queen could be seen together, once in a while."

"Whatever for," she responded, forcing boredom to color her tone, and Aegon sighed again.

"For the sake of the realm. For the sake of the peace," he replied, and she knew his claim was righteous. "For the sake of our son."

Cold tears made their way from her eyes to her cheeks, and soon her embroidery became so blurry she pricked her finger with the needle, a drop of red falling on the cream-colored linen.

She stood abruptly, peeking at the cradle.

"Tell the realm I am occupied," she announced again, and loneliness tugged at Aegon's heart again. He knew what occupied, or rather preoccupied his wife—her losses, her grief, the prison that she had made for herself in her sorrow.

As she made a move to depart from the room, she stepped past her husband, and made the mistake to look upon him. His eyes were sad, and the reality of what the war had forced them to take from the other didn't escape her—loss and blame were heavy on her heart, love desperately trying to claw its way out.

“You can hate me however much you want,” Aegon said softly, quietly like a secret, his smile pained and hopeless. “I made you queen, gave you a son.”

“You will never have my allegiance. Nor my obedience,” she vowed, cold tears wetting her cheeks and pooling at the corners of her mouth.

She was beautiful still, even though it hurt to watch her emotions play on her face. Ruined as she was by grief and hatred, her heart now as cold as her presence, she still remained the woman Aegon loved.

“You will never win,” she whispered, cold as ash, and it would have sounded like a threat under different circumstances.

“You love this child that comes from my flesh, it’s victory enough for me,” Aegon replied, and she had to turn away.

The cradle creaked as Aegon rocked it, and their son stirred and cooed. Draped in linens and velvet, his little fists curled in the covers, he looked at though he was clinging to sleep, unwilling to open his eyes to the painted ceiling. Above him, angels danced and maidens strolled in a garden.

“The crown, the realm, none of it matters,” he continued, almost a lament that made grief and regret swell in her chest. “Only him.”

It was a sob that woke Aegon up later that night, stifled and broken by a retching sound. A rain drop fell on his cheek and as he opened his eyes to the breeze ruffling the curtains of the canopy bed, realized that the storm that was taking place in his room was of human nature.

Above him, dressed in the shadows of the night, his wife was holding a dagger in her trembling hand. Fright and sorrow were shaking her slender frame as doubt guided her aim. Aegon gripped her wrist easily, tightly, and she covered her mouth with her other hand.

"Would you really have me dead, wife?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep. There was no sadness in him, only some odd sort of resignation. "I would rather die by your own hand than any other way."

With those words, he released her and the dagger hovered over him.

He swallowed his tears as his wife shifted atop him, her soft thighs on either side of his hips. She was light as a feather, and his flesh yearned for her touch.

She sobbed into her hand as she lowered the dagger slowly, curling her hand around the handle and pressing her fist onto his chest. He held her in silence as she cried, cursing him in broken words.

He could feel the flat of the blade press against his ribs—he slept without a shirt, always—and he knew it would only take a twist of her hand for the sharp side to glide against his skin.

He curled his hand over hers and kept it close over his thundering heart until her tears dried and all was left was the empty shell of her grief.

"I hate you," she confessed in the darkness, moonlight playing on her pale face.

"Oh, I know," Aegon replied with a loving smile on his face. "I would take your hatred over your indifference any day," he added and she took the next breath from him.

She pressed her mouth to his in desperation, or in hatred, loathing the very breath of him—she swallowed his moan as it came from his throat, from his chest where their joined hands still held the dagger.

She ripped it away from his grip and for a moment time stood still and the air caught in his throat. His eyes were wide and pleading as they both thought she would plunge the blade into his chest, pleading for her love even if it came in the form of murder.

Instead she threw the dagger to the ground and whimpered as Aegon surged up, wrapped an arm around her waist and dipped her to the mattress.

She stretched her spine as he pulled the covers that kept them apart with a frustrated groan; she must have made a sound when she realized he was not wearing any clothes, because he dipped his head and caught her mouth.

"I hate you," she gasped as he parted her legs roughly, desperation curling at his core, making his cock throb.

He was beautiful in his eagerness, in the trembling way with which he enlaced her nightgown and slid it off her body, tearing a seam or two.

"Tell me again," he sobbed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her bony hips grinding against him. She grew wet as she rocked into his hold, his cock sliding between her folds.

"I hate you," she whined as he licked a hot strip across one of her breasts, pulling its peak into his mouth and suckling at her greedily.

She leaked despite herself and he groaned against her skin, reaching between them until he could guide his cock into her. She unfurled beneath him, her back arching and her head grinding back into the pillow.

"Aegon, ah—" she wailed as he took her, rough and merciless, and he couldn't care less if it was from pain or pleasure. From love or from hate; he would take anything coming from her.

He took the inebriating way her cunt tightened around him, making his head spin as she bit his lower lip; he took the burning lines she raked into his back with her fingernails, and the way her throat stretched as pleasure took her.

Aegon knew she would be the end of him, as no love could forgive the sins he had committed, no matter how unconditional it was, and hers was rigged with limits and conditions.

They would have to build a covenant based on mutual unforgiveness of the other's wrongdoings, accept the hateful words and the dagger in the night—and in the middle of it, in time, as the years smooth the edges of pain, they might find love again.

Dividers by @saradika

Beta ready by @arcielee. My muse for this one, @bucknastysbabe ♡

Aegon taglist: @f4ll-for-you @arcielee @annikin-im-panicin @leptitlu @levis-butterfingers @merovingianprincess @ainandra @flrboyd @fan-goddess @aphroditeisamilf @darylandbethfanforever9 @valleyof-goldenlilies @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @apollonshootafar @helaenaluvr @neenieweenie @heavenly1927 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @apollonshootafar @sunphyre @girlwith-thepearlearring @alanadetigy @travelingmypassion @targaryenmoony @burninggracesandbridges @amiraisgoingthruit @maidmerrymint @ipostwhtifeel @vixemi @xitsemm @fullmoonworshipper

Readers who wanted this sequel ♡ @roselibrary @urbanleftovers @marihoneywk @lexi-anastasia-astra-luna @yazzzmints

#house of the dragon #hotd #fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon #aegon fanfiction #aegon fanfic #aegon smut #aegon x oc #aegon x reader #tom glynn carney

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ijuliet · 11 months

Text

enhypen sexual guilty pleasures (s)

enhypen and their small/sexual habits with you

paring : legal line!enhypen x fem!reader

warnings : oral(f+m), heesung is sorta controlling (blowjob), angry make out w/ jay, jake eating reader out, sunghoon jerking off/kinda pervy

wc : ~1k

MINORS DNI!!

· lee heesung

anytime you were innocently on your knees next to your boyfriend, the restraints of his cock began to grow. for example, the times you picked something up from the ground, were a sweetheart and got the lower cabinet for him, or tied the laces of your shoes, heesung couldn’t help but get hard.

until one night you were all celebrating the boys comeback at the dorm, slipping off of your boyfriend’s lap and into the kitchen. heesung kept his eyes on your shadow as he saw you moving about. he got up from his seat after a while and was pleased with the scene he walked into.

you were lighting a candle on a cake and trying to suppress the flame from dying by covering it with the palm of your hands. you were on your knees and looked up with puppy dog eyes.

“i was just trying to surprise you guys...” you sighed, thinking your plan was ruined. heesung could feel himself in his pants— hard and heavy.

your boyfriend walked over to your innocent yet sinful position and looked at you with a recognizable glare. eyeing him through your lashes, you cocked your head to the side.

heesung reached his hand out to you and helped you back up to your feet. taking the cake from your hands and placing it on the counter beside you.

"can you do me a favor, baby?" he says as he interlocks your fingers. you nod your head, already taking a guess at what your boyfriend was going to ask.

"give the boys their cake and tell them you’re going home, feeling a bit drowsy, right?” his free hand reaches up to your chin, and his thumb glides over your bottom lip.

"but you forgot your phone in my room."

heesung's favor was simple to complete: you congratulated the boys, and they all smiled at you, thinking you were just the sweetest girl ever after bringing a cake for them.

but you had deceived them.

right next door you were on your knees, tears rolling down your face as you gagged on heesung’s cock. looking up at him through your eyelashes caused the boy cover his mouth to stifle his moans.

· park jongseong

heated arguments always led you and jay to become entangled with each other. his head between your thighs or your hands in his pants— it didn’t matter; it was bound to happen.

it all started because of your outfit. you had plans with your mutual friends and had gotten ready with jay. you had asked for his opinion on your clothes, but it seemed his phone was more interesting.

finally, at the restaurant, you were seated between jake and your boyfriend. but for some odd reason, jay’s grip on your thigh did not stop you from sharing your interests with jake and his dog. you had even planned to meet his pet, making jay caress his jaw beside you to calm himself.

the trip back home was silent, and you smiled out the window, knowing what was going to happen next.

when you made it home safely and the door behind you clicked locked, jay immediately pinned you against the cold wall.

“what’s so special about jake, huh?” jay crashed his lips against yours, taking the air out of your lungs.

“fuck baby, you just had to ignore me.” his hands roughly bunched up your skirt to your hips as his wet kisses traveled down your neck. when he was met with skin and not the hem of your panties, the chuckle he emitted made you regret your choices.

“you’re in for it tonight.”

· sim jaeyun

jake woke up with you in his bed and smiled at your sleeping state. he stumbled out of bed with his boxers hanging low on his hips, looking around for his shirt, but remembered the activities of the night before.

jake caught the neckline of his shirt on your chest and saw the outline of your boobs. unsurprisingly, he was hard.

the same event occurred last night; after showering together and borrowing one of jake's shirts, he just had to fuck you with it on.

you stirred in your sleep as you felt someone weirdly staring at you. opening your eyes slowly, you saw jake at the foot of the bed smirking with a look of lust.

the sight made you giggle and rub your eyes awake as he took the duvet off your body in one quick pull.

"i won’t take too long." jake crawled up and in between your legs, planting sweet kisses and groaning along your thighs. your hands ran through his blonde locks as his mouth ghosted over your wet cunt. one of his large hands made its way under his shirt as his slim fingers fondled your breast.

"wear my clothes more often, baby." you moan as you feel jake’s cold tongue between your folds.

“and i’ll have to fuck you all day.”

· park sunghoon

that perfume.

the perfume you carefully apply to your body everyday is enough to make sunghoon crumble. it's on his clothes, in his room, and he even smells it on his own members.

the perfect mix of formal and intoxicating. even miles away, he can’t stop thinking about you and your scent.

while on tour, sunghoon had packed one of his sleep shirts that he didn’t have time to throw in the wash, and as he rummaged in his luggage at night, your perfume instantly made its way to his nostrils.

"fuck," he cursed underneath his breath. you were unaware that this was enough to make your boyfriend’s cock hard.

sunghoon would call himself put together, but the way he had already begun to palm his bulge made him shake his head.

how could something so normal make him so on edge? as he closed his eyes, sunghoon imagined it was you in his shirt, hands running up and down his length, encouraging your boyfriend to let go and release.

and he did; he threw his head back and groaned as white strings gathered in front of him and onto his only clean sleep shirt.

guess he’d just have to send you his shirtless ab pics in return ;)

this one’s for my engenes <3

did u like!!! hope ya did :) feel free to send in recs or hard thoughts!!

#heesung smut #heesung hard thoughts #jay smut #jay hard thoughts #jake smut #jake hard thoughts #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen reactions #enhypen hard thoughts

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onyx-syn · 6 months

Text

Cockwarming Headcanons with LA! Buggy and LA! Shanks

Warnings: Smut, some fluff, Female Reader, Flirting, Cockwarming, Some praises, pet names and Unprotected Sex

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

Buggy

🌹Buggy the clown is many things, one such thing is he is a sucker for you. A sucker for your love and touch, always wanting to be the center of attention around you

🌹And boy is he obsessed with the idea of his cock inside of you. Idea? Well, for a while he held back the thought of doing such a thing with you until the time finally came around to it

🌹See, for a while Buggy wasn't exactly comfortable with the physical touch. Not that he didn't want to touch you or be touched, it was more or less his insecurities taking over him

🌹But once he gets comfortable and used to you, oh he is melting for you and your touch at every giving moment

🌹He loves cockwarming you. I feel as he's able to detach his limbs he would be a little naturally cold? Or get easily cold? So, naturally, he nuzzles up to you when you two have time alone or wants you to nuzzle up to him. He loves feeling the heat emitting from your skin against his cold body, and even more so when he Buries his cock deep inside of you

🌹Where he likes to do it at is the fun part. He's both a private and public man. Sometimes he likes to do it in the comforts of your own room, deep in the night as deep as he's in you, only he can hear your sweet little moans of his cock burying deep inside you before you both end up sleeping

🌹Or, be a little sneaky and have you seated in his lap, rolling your hips around in circles, his hands gripping onto your hips keeping you steady, so you don't make the mistake of altering the members at the meeting of your sinful doing (which at that point, some of them have already figured you two were doing something)

🌹He'll leave his cock with you when you're in the mood or when he's gonna be gone for a while. He most definitely has phantom feelings so he can feel your walls greet him from afar. How hot your cunt feels, feeling his cock warm up and become wetter due to you. He's actively melting and mewling for you

🌹The feeling of your walls clenching him is out of this world, however it is difficult for him to restrain himself when he wants to buck his hips hard against your ass and cunt, hearing the sweet slapping sound of skin on skin. His body shutters at even just the thought of your walls around him

🌹His cock is the perfect size, a nice 5-6 inches. It grows half an inch when erected, which may not seem much but ol boy does he show it off. A pretty nice girth he's got going on down there, a nice handle around his length when you stroke him. He has a visible vein on the underline of his cock, which his length curves just a little. His tip starts off as a nice light pink before going to a nice red

🌹His cock is very sensitive with the vein and the underside of his tip. His body shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze against your squishy walls, moaning as he feels the hotness grace it

- "Fuck", Buggy whispers to himself, a sweat tear drip dripping down the side of his cheek.

A loud moan left his wet lips, which he regretted a little after. He wants to ruin you, but he understands that during that time at night it wouldn't be right with how tired you both are.

The room felt unbearably hot. He could feel his cold skin turn into a molten pot of lava. His length deep inside you, the curls of his happy trail touching your ass and backside. Your naked body glowing in the darkness of the room, lit up by the moonlight shimmering through the windows.

A ravenous shockwave of pleasure rushing through his body as he could feel his body undergo an immense amount of pleasure. From his cock being smothered by your sweet folds and wet cunt, and the way your body so gracefully looked in bed and in his arms.

Your wet walls greeted him so nicely that he couldn't move, the only movement he wanted to give was bucking his hips into you, slow at first before speeding up. Wanting to hear your beautiful voice moan out his name, like the good girl you were to him.

His hands grazed your sides, grasping at your hips, a bit harsh, trying to keep himself composed.

His eyes fluttered to stay open, the pleasure overtaking him as he could feel his body overcome with the sensational feeling. Your body and cunt was like an intoxicating drug to him.

One of the most powerful pirates in The East Blue Sea, naked and trembling in bed with his love, his cock deep inside you wanting to fuck you senselessly. He was under your spell, like a loyal servant for your love and touch.

He brought himself out of his throughts as he hissed, feeling how nicely your walls clenched down on his cock, coating it in your slickness. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his lips kissing your skin with his nose bumping your shoulder.

He took in your scent, trying to calm himself down. He whimpered a little, bitting onto your skin trying to control his ravenous urges. His body was overheating at your cunt, it felt so good, felt incredible. He wanted- no- needed to fuck you.

His body jolts a bit once he feels your hand move just slightly over his, rubbing your thumbs in circles around his rough yet soft skin. A small giggle leaves your lips before moaning, the tip of his cock hitting your walls, making your thighs tremble from the action.

Buggy shutters when he feels the underline of his cock graze your walls, huffing in your ear as hips start to buck little by little. He's melting in your pussy at this given moment.

You spoke in a slumber tone, barely awake, "Is my good boy that needy?"

You could feel Buggy tighten his grip on your hips, nodding profusely. "Yes... You feel so good baby, so... Nice~" You hear him say. You can tell he wants to do much more than just sleep.

You smile at his words, leaning back just enough into him where you're able to turn your head and kiss his cheeks gently. "That's my good boy, you're doing- ugh- really, good~"

He nuzzles deeper into your neck, pressing more kisses and lightly biting at your skin. "Mmm~" he mummers under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

"I want you so ... So bad... Fuck, oh fuck. Your- fuck, please, please let me... I want... I want to fuck you... Baby...~" Buggy couldn't handle it anymore, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

You could feel your cunt become wetter at his begging, feeling his words breeze against your neck, sending a hot wave through your body and skin. The moment was intense, and starting to feel hot on both ends.

You shakily grip his hand, bringing it down to your pussy, the cold contact of his hand touching your clit so gracefully was making you moan in absolute pleasure.

"Then- nnn- n-do it, f-fuck me baby~"

He loved it when you spoke to him like this, wanting all your attention on him and him only.

🌹he won't always be this sweet and a good boy to you though, some days he'll be desperately moaning in your ear and telling you how well you're taking him as he deepens himself in you

🌹He does try very hard to be your good boy though. He holds back his urges a lot when it comes to him warming his cock deep in you, whimpering quietly and trembling as he holds you against him. With how your walls clench down in his harden muscle, warming him up like a cookie or wetting him- it's too much for him to handle all at once

🌹 He'll end up begging to fuck you, wanting to pleasure you and make you cum for him and hear you moan his name and his love

🌹Overall, will live and die doing cockwarming with his sweets~

Shanks

🌹Shanks is an adventurous lad. Always off exploring new things and trying out all sorts of activities and tricks. One such new trick he didn't expect to end up liking is cockwarming with you. And now he's an an absolute sucker for cockwarming

🌹Unlike Buggy at first, he loves physical touch and little acts of service to give you or for you to give him. Well, at least before he lost his arm. But even then, it doesn't bother him too much, he still is hesitant on letting you touch his nub at first, so it would take some time for him to get used to

🌹Shanks is also in his prime, he's much more of a laid back type of cockwarmer then always actively trying to find a way to put his length deep into your cunt

🌹He loves to be relaxing either in his captain quarters or just being comfortable in his hammock with you either on top of his, his cock deep inside you as you're doing a chore or simply sleeping ontop of him

🌹Or when he catches you from behind when you're alone, cooking or cleaning. He'll come up from behind slowly, his rough hands gripping your sides softly, whispering in your ear of how beautiful you look right now. His hands roam further down your body and pull down your bottoms, sliding his cock between your folds. He groans when entering each time, still unbelievably stunned at how amazing your cunt feels

🌹But, he'll keep composure for a bit, helping you with the task in hand while bucking his hips little by little, trying to restrain himself but it can be difficult. A lot of the time it'll end up having sex with him on the counter or crate

🌹He almost has no words to describe how the feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock feels. Feeling your warm slickness coat him, every square inch of his large muscle as he rolls his tip around against your walls, bringing your body to shutter in his grasp

🌹he's much more of a private guy then a public guy when it comes to this, not because he doesn't want to do it, show you off, and be risky with you doll. But he doesn't want the other members of his crew or simply strangers, hear your beautiful voice moan his name or see your glorious reaction to his cock entering you. That's for him and you to enjoy

🌹He's length is pretty girthy, more of a shower then a grower to be honest. He's packing a nice 6.5 inches, but the girth is a key word. Has a few visible veins and has an angry red top

🌹 Isn't very sensitive in some spots, however your tongue swirling around his tips over and over again sends a thrilling chill up his spine, a shock wave of pleasure washing over him as he feels your wet his cock

🌹Will try to buck his hips more and more when you cockwarm him, making his tip hit your walls and roll against them, sending a chilling wave of sensational pleasure throughout his body. If you catch him he'll give you a cheeky smile and embrace your lips with his

- You were preparing a meal in the kitchen of the ship, docked at the small island where you and Shanks crew laid low for now. Your ears perked at the footsteps entering into the room, noticing who the pattern belonged to.

A smile covered your cheeks as you felt a pair of rough hands wrap themselves around your fabric of clothing, rubbing your tummy softly before gripping onto your hips.

You felt a pair of lips kiss your ear, sending a small shockwave of euphoria down your spine. A large chest hitting your back as the person behind you spoke.

"Making dinner I see, my love?" Shanks spoke, his raspy voice chuckling.

You nodded in return, leaning back against his chest before kissing his cheek, smiling once more returning back to the task at hand.

"Of course, somebody's gotta feed you hungry dogs"

Shanks shook his head at that, but you can imagine the cheeky smile plastered across his face. You knew he had other intentions than to just help you with dinner, you could feel his rather large groin press against your ass.

His voice deepened, kissing your neck more slower and bitting here and there. "That's so nice my dear~"

You felt a rise of adrenaline rush through your veins, rolling your hips back into his hips. You stopped what you were doing and waited for Shanks to do his bidding upon you. You wanted to feel his cock burden itself in your cunt, feeling your folds become wet at the thought.

Shanks chest rumbled with a groan, his cock sliding through your wet folds as he pulled down the hem of your bottoms and your undergarments just enough to have access to your cunt.

"Dear- oh fuck...~" he whispered under his breath, cursing at the feeling.

The sensational feeling of your walls clenching down on his cock, coating him in your slickness. Shanks closed his eyes as a moan left his lips, feeling his tip touch your walls. He pressed his forehead against the back of your head.

His hands raced back to your hips, almost reaching your back and bending you over the counter to wreck your poor puffy cunt. But, he remained composed, despite the little bucking of his hips against your ass.

His red curly trail touching your backs and ass, tickling you just a bit. The feeling was intense for him, he was a strong man yes but this was something else for him.

Shanks started to buck more, having a nice handle on your hips. He turned his rhythm to the side a bit, shuttering at the feeling of his tip hitting your squishy wet walls, coating him over and over again as he continued.

Little moans left his lips. He squeezed his eyes closed, his lips pressing on your head, giving you small kisses. His cock swelled in your pussy, filling you up with his size just alone.

Your hands gripped the counter of the kitchen table, your thighs trembling. Feeling yourself full and your walls caressed from his cock alone, a low moan and mewl left your wet lips. It was times like this where you wished you weren't busy so your man could fuck you like no tomorrow.

Shanks could feel your body tremble in his touch, sending a chuckle out of him. "Feels good doesn't it my love?~" he asks, watching you nod. "You love it when I fill you up don't you~".

"Shanks~" You breathy let out a whimper, your nails digging into the granite counter.

Shanks leans forward, his hot breath making the hair on your neck stick up and sending a wave to your pussy. "Yes my love?~"

His words and voice made you feel so many things, all of which sinful and deeply inappropriate for such an open space. You shakily moved your hands, cutting the vegetables slowly as you tried to calm yourself down.

"I ... I-i want to try and finish, d-dinner... So i-if you don't plan on helping, we might as well stop or we'll end up r-ruining dinner" you mentioned to him, slowly gaining control of the situation.

"ruin it? Oh darling, dinner has barely started" He restated, chuckling a little. "especially when I'm looking at the dessert right in front of-"

"S-Shanks!" You cut him off, your face heating up from his comments and words about your intimate moment.

You feel him stop bucking his hips, his hands lessening it's grip on your hips before reaching the counter, holding up some vegetables and a knife. "Alright alright, I'll help you, but the real dinner for us will begin after this~" he whispered in your ear, now letting his cock settling itself in you, warming up for laters activities.

Dear god, good luck for you.

🌹It's moments like this between you two that he loves, both having fun while being romantic, his love for you never going away no matter what

🌹 he'll lazily rock his hips into yours occasionally, letting a cheeky smile cover his face trying to get away with the actions of his teasing on you. It brings excitement to the man and his adoration for you

🌹He's a sucker for cockwarming, no doubt

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 3 months

Text

Lost and found

Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: You dissapeared a month ago. You finally returned home.

Warning: OOC. Religious fanaticism. Non-descriptive torture. Reader almost get killed. English is my second language.

Normally, the atmosphere in the house was happy. Kids were playing on the playground, Akutagawa siblings often watch movies in the living room, Oda and Kunikida discussed books in the library. Sigma can start a spontaneous poker game. And much, much more.

But, most importantly, there were you.

In one moment, you were reading books with Poe, and Karl was sitting on your lap.

Next moment you were fooling around with Nikolai.

Then you were having a competition, where Tachihara with Teruko on his shoulders were racing against Tetchou with you on his back.

It was fun.

It didn't last.

The day you disappeared became the worst day of their lives.

No more laughing.

No more having fun.

They were searching for you.

Looking under every branch in the forest.

Breaking in every house, where people, that have even smallest disagreement with you.

Sleepless nights.

And constant search.

For their Dear Guiding Light.

______

Different religions have different things, that can be considered blasphemy. Yes, some acts can be called "universal" blasphemy. That everyone, no matter, where they are from and what their beliefs are, would call such acts blasphemy.

But, some religions, have something, that only for them will be viewed as blasphemy.

In Teyvat any resemblance to the All-Creator was the act of blasphemy. The worst sin. The High treason.

And sinners must be punished for the heinous act.

Creator would sit on their ivory throne and command their holy knights to destroy the Corruption.

Because The Embodiment of Divinity can't be wrong. Because The One, who brought life, are doing it for the good of the Teyvat.

So, when the news about another Sinner being spotted in Mondstadt reach Creator, they ordered their Divine Knights to Purge the Sin from Teyvat.

Creator love Teyvat. Creator love humans. Creator destroyed Celestia, an embodiment of Sin, that tried to destroy Creator, the moment they sat on the ivory throne.

Creator were freedom. That's why Barbatos didn't feel bad, commanding wings of Teyvat to feed the fire, that Knights of Favonius set, to burn the small cottage with you inside.

Creator were following their contact, the promise to protect Teyvat. That's why Morax didn't bat an eye, throwing a stone spear at a boat, where you were hiding.

Creator were internal. So Baal didn't regret unleashing the power of lightning on you.

Creator were a fake. It was real knowledge. But Real Sinner have power. Nahida were sorry, that she and Aranara's could give you only a small break.

Creator were Justice. Fontaine people were ready to hung you up. Real Sinner have power. Furina and Melusines were hiding you as long as they can. When you saw the enraged Neuvillette, who was ready to destroy the village, you left by your own accord.

For Creator, they would start a war. In Natlan you were almost caught. By pure luck, Columbina's attack didn't end your life.

Fatui's dream became reality, because of the Creator. Snezhnaya's people were ready to tear you apart.

Instead, they tie you up and drag you to the Ivory Throne.

_______

You didn't like being transported to Teyvat.

Yes, it was beautiful. But, you missed your friends and family. You missed BSD Gang.

Worst of all, you didn't have your phone with you. You can't even try to reach out to your world.

You decide to find Traveler, or Abyss Sibling, or Alice. Maybe, they can send you home?

You wished you stay in the wilderness.

People of Teyvat hated you. Traveler hated you. Abyss Sibling hated you.

Everyone called you a disgrace. Sinner. Corruption, that must be purged.

They try to burn you alive.

They chased you like a wild animal.

They wanted to kill you.

And every person who tried to help you were punished.

You had no idea, what happened to Nahida and Aranaras. And you hopped that Yoimiya, her father, Furina and Melusines were fine.

You were captured a week ago.

Week, full of torture.

Of boiling water, that was poured down your throat.

"Dirty heretic! Accept the cleansing of your soul from impurities!"

Of hot iron on your skin. Of terrible scars on your chest.

"Heretic"

And you were forced on your knees before an Ivory Throne.

Your exact double raise their hand.

And Five archons and one Hydro Sovereign attacked.

Arrows of Anemo. Spear of Geo. Sword of Electro. Wave of Hydro. Claymore of Pyro. Wave of Cryo.

You can't even scream. Boiling water burned your tongue and throat.

You were tried and wished for one thing.

To finally be safe.

The moment, before you were hit, the portal appeared under your legs.

___________________________

It was nighttime.

All of them gather in the living room.

Another day of fruitless search.

And no trace of you.

Suddenly, they heard a noise from the outside. The empty barn was shaking. The wight light was visible through the cracks in the old wood.

Everyone hurried here.

Tetchou got here first and opened the door.

Light faded.

You were there

You were laying on the floor.

Tortured. Branded.

And alive.

Chaos started. No one can stay silent even for a second.

Yosano got near you in a second. Not only because she ran towards you. Tachihara and Akutagawa literally carried her to you. Yosano used her ability without second thought.

Now, healed, you were still laying on the floor. From time to time, you let out a quiet sobs and 'please, I just want to go home'.

Everyone was panicking. Asking if you were alright. If you will be okay.

Fukuchi carried you home.

______

You were unconscious.

They bathed you, change your clothes and try to make you as safe as possible.

You were laying on your bed, covered in every blanket they can find. They brought even their own blankets. Somewhere in there were laying Rimbaud's coat, that he cover you with.

Your room was full of people.

BSD Cast were sitting on the floor, on the windowsill, on the edge of your bed.

Everyone was there. Even kids were allowed to stay up.

They were sitting close to each other. No one could phantom a thought of leaving you even for a second.

The night was sleepless.

_____

You thought, that you were dead in went to the afterlife.

Because, you can feel, that you were warm and laying on something soft.

You don't want to open your eyes. You wanted to stay in a warm, safe place.

More senses were back.

You heard birds singing.

And quiet sobs. Sound of steps.

And whispers.

"Myshonok, you can't leave us. Please, come back..."

"[Y/N], it's okay, take your time. You will soon be better, right? We will have fun pranking Vagabond..."

"The world without you will never be ideal... [Y/N]... Darling... Come back..."

Some voices sound closer.

"[Y/N]... Please, Birdy, woke up... My Dear, I missed you so much, please, come back!"

Someone was holding your hand, squeezing it. You feel, how, that someone's tears fall on your knuckles.

Another voice. This one touch your shoulder. The voice sounded broken.

"[Y/N], my precious Iris Flower... Wake up... I beg you..."

They also were crying...

Birdy... Iris Flower... Could it be?

You opened your eyes.

______

Two pair of eyes, one - dark brown, second - green and grayish came into your line of sigh.

Dazai Osamu and Nikolai Gogol.

Were you seeing things? Or you really were back.

You manage to whisper. You feel, that your tongue and throat weren't burned anymore.

"K-Kolya? Osamu?"

You looked around. Your friends were here.

"G-guys... E-Everyone..."

Before you can finish, you were swarmed by your friends.

Everyone tried to see you, to touch you. Kyuusaku, who manage to get to the front, climbed on your bed and hugged you.

"I knew it! I knew that you will be back! That you will return. B-because I told them all... that you will come back... you will certainly come back" Kyuusaku sobbed. Suddenly, they looked angry. "Where were you?! We were waiting for you... Searching for you... but you... completely, completely disappeared!"

You bit your lip and drew blood. For one moment, angry shouts of "SINNER" filled your ears.

Q cried again and hid their smeared face in your chest.

No. They are your friend. They won't hurt you.

You carefully hugged Q. You didn't feel any pain. You remind yourself to thank Yosano later.

"Good question, where were you, [Y/N]? Who... Hurt you?" spoke Mori. And you flinched.

One of the worst thing during The Imposter Hunt was Zhongli. More specifically, his voice, that sounds so similar to Mori's. During Nightmare-filled nights, that voice was cursing you, threaten you, promising to tear you apart.

In reality, you saw Zhongli saying that words. In your Nightmares, you saw Mori.

Zhongli made you scared of your friend!

Everyone noticed your reaction. Yosano spoke.

"[Y/N]... What happened? You were on a brick of death, when we found you..."

You still couldn't say a word. You were scared. You were terrified of returning to Teyvat.

Fukuzawa spoke next. He carefully picked up Kyuusaku and put them down on the floor. Then Fukuzawa with the same carefulness, propped you up against your pillow.

"We will discuss it later. Right now, [Y/N] need some food. Kitten, are you hungry?"

You slowly nodded. Oda, who was standing near the door, immediately left to get food from the kitchen.

The others stay in your room, looking at you.

This exact moment they made a promise to themselves.

They will destroy everything and everyone, who have hurt you.

And they will make sure, that this people will suffer.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #imposter sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #sagau impostor au

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visionsofmagic · 6 months

Text

day 27: bi han [humiliation]

࿓ synopsis • your grandmaster gives you a lesson for the disrespect you have showed in front of others.

―❦ nsfw, ownership, pet names, rougness, possessiveness, fingering, cum eating, weight, power play (kinda), rudeness, sub!reader (much of it), f!reader, no use of y/n, ordering, oversitumulation, sensivity, fluff (at the end), ‘is all I guess?• 1.3k • while writing this I thought about how it would be if he’s the one who is dominated by the reader, so, we can see it in the future! *this bitch needs to be put down, soo* anyway, enjoy this one too because he’s so bi han! [kinktober m.]

“fuuuck! master!”

“that’s it slut, moan it louder, tell me who owns you as if your pussy isn’t telling it enough.”

he growls into your ear as he keeps pounding into you so mercilessly that you swear you will not be able to walk straight the following day for quite some time.

it doesn’t matter though, not when your grandmaster takes care of you with full of his attention even though it means educating you for something you didn’t mean to do in front of others – it just slipped out of your mouth without any control of your brain, instantly regretting it, but it was too late – even now, it’s not enough how he devours you, standing above you, chest touching your exposed breasts – the nipples harden whenever they meet with his cold chest, cock is buried deep inside you – leaving no room – all full.

“m-master!” you say, trying to hold still, be the good girl he wants to have after such disrespectful behavior of calling him by his name, bi han, the title was long forgotten at that moment. he didn’t say anything, face stayed behind the mask, yet, the way his gazes shifted from other assassins to you fast was proof of how fucked up you were – and his thrusts only proved your assumptions to be true. “please – I need – I – aggh!”

“you need?” he chuckles - mocks, hands holding your wrists, pushing them onto the bed beneath you that seems to be made of iron because it can’t be explained how it stands still after such strength coming from bi han – his weight only gives you another wave of pain mixed with the bliss of pleasure.

“what made you think that you can demand anything from me whore? oh right,” he answers his own question by kneeling lower, nose touching your cheek, tears dripping onto the sheets – no fear is bloomed inside your chest, no, yet it is a bit thrilling seeing him like this – even eyes turning ice blue because of how mad he is. “your fucking brain is useless now, isn’t it? too occupied with my cock that you have become my cockslut.”

another thrust, another swear – coming from him even though he tries to hide how good you’re making him feel with your pussy clenching around his length, soaking into it, legs wrapped around his back too, and another moan, coming from you – such sin that it makes you want to hide your pathetic self from his view – but you know he will never let that to happen; you being such a mess only because of him feed the power he has on you.

you are being weak like this is the most beautiful sight to him.

maybe it is the reason why he wants to gather more of the expressions you’re making by holding you from the waist, then, turning you over so that he can fuck you from behind as he compresses your body between his and the bed, the weight gets heavier, it becomes too much to handle – too hard to keep your sanity.

“yeah, cute whore,” he says, shoving his cock deep and hard – yet so slow as his chest covers your back, radiating coldness from his skin to your warm one. difference makes your mind go crazy – eyes looking at his smirking face from the corner, losing it all when his other free hand touches your abdomen, right at where his cock’s outline is appearing. “feel it? feel how my cock is filling you up fully? that’s what you’re made for – to have my cock whenever I want, being a fucking slut for it – for me – your grandmaster.”

he sounds as if he waits for a response from you, however, you know he doesn’t need one – not when you cum undone a few seconds later after his words of putting you so down – so low contrary to him – showing his power, and the weakness you have when it comes to him.

“yes, yes, yes! Master – ohhh – mmhh – yes, I, I – fuuck! aggh!” you say incoherently, your mind is dizzy, tongue rolls on its own, and eyes go white as the highness of climax hits you like he hits all right place – he wants to punish you yet why he keeps pounding all the right stops, giving you a pleasure you have never felt before. the answer is somewhere on your mind, the deepest place of it, waiting for it to be discovered – getting into the surface, but, it turns into darkness when he fucks you through your high, climax – your sensitive cunt squirts.

“say it,” he orders, you can sense it from his voice, “say who’s your owner, slut.”

“you!” you say without hesitation – no shame, a little maybe, full of pride. it would have felt so wrong – it should’ve – but with him, it sounds the right thing to be. “my grandmaster!”

“say my name,” he orders again, a bit calmer down, weight is there still – thrusting roughly into your abused pussy, using the wetness of it to go in and out easier. “moan it.”

and you do it right away, feels like if you don’t moan his name, the life will be meaningless. “bi han! ohhh – bi han!”

crying between your moans, you feel his cum washing your walls after hearing you cry under him, moaning his name, raising your ass up while doing it to make it as effective as possible for him – such a naughty girl for him he likes to break.

your cries stop when bi han’s weight disappears in a sudden movement,

confused, you try to look at him after getting yourself together – only to see him standing on his knees, left hand holding you from the waist to make your ass stay up as the free one getting closer to your core.

“m-master?” you as in a low voice, like a whisper even, understanding what he is about to do and feeling something you can’t put a name on.

his eyes look at yours for a moment, radiating both coldness and warmness, making them flow into your body and finally finding your soul from there.

to see it better, you wink rapidly, getting rid of the last drip of your tears, and waiting for him to do what he wants.

he slowly goes out of your pussy – with each inch, his fingers find it immediately after, and when his cock finally leaves your cunt – you already begin to miss it, his fingers fill up the emptiness by pushing his semen into you in delight, smirking down at the mess he’s making out of your cunt and you only stay on your elbows, ass up, pussy is being wide open so that you can have all the semen he gives to you.

“made for me, just me, mine –“ he says again, reminding, looking at you again as he continues, fingers never leaving, playing with your folds, entering it in and out. “all mine,” he listens to lewd voices coming from your pussy, whimpers and swears that leave your mouth beautifully.

“b-bi han – ooh –“

“pretty slut,” he says again, “my pretty slut though,” then his fingers covered with both your and his cum stays in front of your half-closed eyes, “open your fucking mouth.”

he watches how your mouth opens wide, taking his fingers, and licking them. his other hand stays on your hair now, caressing it, smiling proudly, “be a good girl and obey your grandmaster – know your place.” he says before leaving you free.

the moment your body collapses into the bed, a fear hits you – fear of being left behind, but, he proves it wrong when he picks you up after a while, taking you into the bath that he has prepared.

you look at his face in disbelief – hands on his chest, back and legs wrapped by his arms. “master –“

he rolls his eyes, “just stay quiet. I don’t want to hear any of your babbling about it.” you don’t say a single word after that – just smiling widely, and finding peace and affection under his arms as he takes care of you. you’re his favorite after all.

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina ^^ @snowprincesa1 ^^ @dookiemeshibear ^^ @manuusrw

#☁ second week of kinktober 2023 #kinktober 2023 #bi han #sub zero #sub zero x reader #bi han x reader #mk1 #mk1 x reader #sub zero x you #sub zero x f!reader #bi han x you #bi han x f!reader #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero

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wandaslullaby · 1 year

Text

Venomous Trap | Wanda M

summary: wanda does something sinful to get you obey her

18+ DNI

a/n: hey! i'm back ish. i decided that i want to continue this series and voila, here is another little fic that gets the story going. hope you all like it and if you have any ideas or any drabbled about bunny and wanda, send me an ask :)

warnings: fingering, downgrading, humiliation kink, mommy kink

masterlist

__________________________________________________________

It was a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no way that you got inappropriate with a teacher. This wasn't like you but somehow your cunt was already leaking at the sight of Wanda’s tits. You’d never think a woman would have such beautiful breasts but, then again, you weren’t really sure of anything.

Waking up that next morning to find a slightly alarming email that you are failing English got you shaken. You never failed a class, in fact, you were top of your classes and English was your strong suit.

It didn’t make sense.

Since you didn’t have classes until noon, you decided to go and speak to your councillor. Before you entered the office, you noticed Wanda leaning against the door.

“Hello, bunny.” Wanda purred, staring at your legs. “Who are you showing off for?”

You froze and felt the inside of your feet curl. Wanda was not only in your view but she purposely shoved her tits right near your face. Just a centimetre apart and Wanda’s hair tickling your nose, you immediately crossed your legs and looked away.

“Such a rude bunny. Not staring at your mummy’s tits.” Wanda whispered, kneeling down lower. “You weren’t as shy when you were latching onto them.”

You gulped when Wanda raised her voice, earning stares from other students.

“Are you not going to say hello to them? They missed your lips, bunny.” Wanda cooed, as she latched onto a string of your hair.

Your cheeks flushed and that gave Wanda the go ahead. She grabbed a hold of your jaw and purposely shoved your face into her chest. “Give them a quick kiss, before Mr Rogers sees what such whore you are.”

You gave each tit a brisk kiss and Wanda let out a soft moan before she released you. After Wanda was finished playing with you, you heard the door open and Wanda returned back to her normal position.

“Ms Maximoff. Ms Y/L/N. Join me in the office.” Mr Rogers spoke out, and you hurriedly entered and felt a sharp pain collide with your bottom.

“Nice ass, bunny.” Wanda smirked and followed in after you.

As you both seated, Mr Rogers turned his hand to retrieve some documents giving Wanda the idea to pull the two chairs closer.

“Don’t you dare make a sound or that pretty ass will be destroyed.” Wanda whispered, as she pinched your thigh.

Mr Rogers turned back and sat down in his seat. He was completely oblivious to the two of you joint at the hip. Wanda was stunned as Mr Rogers couldn’t see the bottom half of both your bodies which gave Wanda a little idea of her own.

“As you can see from my email, I’m regretting going to say that you are failing Ms Maximoff class. I’m not sure if there’s anything going on but I’m concerned that you won’t be graduating this year.”

Tears spilled in your eyes as Mr Rogers explained your test scores but a sudden shiver ran up your thigh. You quickly darted your head to your thighs and noticed that Wanda’s hand was up your skirt.

Wanda didn’t even look over at you, but kept a stern face as she listened to Mr Rogers talk. You decided to remove her hand which earned a smack to your cunt causing a little whimper from your lips.

“Is everything okay?” Mr Rogers asked, slightly concerned at the fuss you were making in your seat.

“Y-Yes. I’m just confused into w-why I’m failing?” You whispered, biting down on your bottom lip as Wanda rubbed her fingers on your panties.

“It says here that you haven’t done any of your assignments or handed in any tests?” Mr Rogers frowned. “This is unexpected behaviour from you.”

You were trying to concentrate on the accusation of not handing in assignments but your brain shifted to a place full of stars as Wanda moved your panties to the side and teased your clit with her fingers. The words were stumbling out of your mouth as Wanda pressed harder onto your throbbing cunt and a little groan rolled off your tongue as Wanda slammed three fingers inside you.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you but this is extremely important.” Mr Rogers frustratingly said. “I don’t appreciate you coming in here, and behaving like a child.”

You crossed your legs but Wanda only went faster as you were itching out a sorry. “I don’t mean too. I’m just not understanding how I haven’t sent in my assignments? I turned them in.”

Wanda let out a little chuckle and drove her fingers deeper inside you. “I’m sorry about her, Steve. I didn’t know that I was teaching such a dumb baby. Is there a way we can turn this around?”

You tried to deny Wanda’s pleasure, grabbing hold of her wrist but your fingers weren’t nearly long to wrap them around her wrist. Wanda left Steve to fiddle around with the computer and took a quick glance at you.

You were drenched in sweat. The small trinkets of water falling from your eyes was such a pretty sight to Wanda, the Adeline inside her made her even hungrier for you.

“Doing so well, bunny. Can’t believe how dirty you are? Letting me finger fuck you whilst the dean is here. Such a dirty, dirty slut.” Wanda hissed and began to use her thumb to rub onto your clit.

You didn’t say a word, as you felt your legs shake at the momentum that Wanda was giving as she was so close to reaching that spot. Steve turned his attention back to the two of you and shook his head, “It says here that you haven’t submitted anything. The system is very accurate, Wanda’s ex-husband designed it.”

As those words left Steve’s lips, you growled at Wanda but the moment she turned to look at you, you slouched into your chair as she hit your spot. You could feel your clit clenching around her fingers as she vigorously slammed her fingers inside you.

“Is there a solution here? Is there a way this dumb baby can get her grades up?” Wanda spoke up, hitting your spot once more before a huge grin sprung on her face as she felt her fingers drown in your cum.

“I think you might need to spend a lot of time with her, Wanda. Make sure she is with you at all times so she can improve her grades.” Steve blabbered on but you were so zoned out of the conversation, you let the tears spill out as Wanda rode your high.

“Is she crying?” Steve asked as he turned his attention onto you.

“She’s just sensitive.” Wanda laughed and released her fingers from you. “Sometimes she just starts crying. I think it’s because she can’t formulate her words as much so she acts like this.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows as you sat quietly, wiping your tears with your jumper. You felt so ashamed and humiliated that you didn’t even know what to say.

“Pathetic, really.” Wanda started. “A grown woman behaving like a child. I think this orders some type of punishment?”

Steve shrugged, “I leave her in your hands. I think from watching how you know Y/N so well, you would be the perfect person to help her with these grades.”

Wanda nodded, “I believe so too. I will make sure each assignment is handed in and each test is 99%.”

Steve nodded and let out an uncomfortable cough. “I think that’s all we have to discuss. Wanda, can you please make sure Y/N goes to the nurse to get an examination? She looks rather flustered.”

“Of course.” Wanda chuckled. “She’s my responsibility now.”

Steve gave you an assuring smile before Wanda pulled you up from your chair as grinned at the trail of your own cum dripping down your leg.

“Dirty, Dirty whore. You are partially dripping with your cum.”

You lowered your head and tried to wipe it away but Wanda slapped your ass. “Don’t you even think about it. I want everyone to know what a disgusting whore you are.”

“W-Why did you delete all my assignments? You knew I passed them all.” You sobbed, following Wanda to her car.

“How else am I going to make you mine, bunny? It was the only way to make sure that no one would question the after class hours and one to one session.”

“You could have just asked...” You said as she climbed into her car.

“Where’s the fun in that, bunny?” Wanda laughed as she strapped you in her child safety belt.

You looked down at the extra protection Wanda has given you. “I’m not a baby.”

Wanda only laughed at your answer. “Oh you stupid bunny. I’m going to make you one. By the time tomorrow rolls in, you will be back to square one where the only words you will ever say are, ‘Mommy’ ‘Please’ and ‘More’.”

You didn’t even want to look at her.

“Don’t worry, bunny. Mommy will take care of you.”

As Wanda’s words played on your mind, you slowly began to accept that this was life and the only way to survive it, is to live it.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff

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alicerosejensen · 1 month

Text

Something about sin. Pt.3

Warning: Age difference, Older!Leon, Reader daughter of another DSO agent, fem.reader, mention of sex, guilt.

A/N: The penultimate part. The second part was chaotic and probably the weakest, but it is what it is. I’m still trying to overcome my chronic fatigue and constant apathy, so if it’s not difficult for you, please write a few kind words if you liked this text.

I still decided that there would be four parts instead of three. The final chapter will probably be smaller in volume, but it will have a lot of dialogues and the resolution of the conflict itself, so I decided that it would be better to write it separately and not in one large text.

Once again, I apologize for the delay in publication, but sometimes our health fails us all.

Part 1

Part 2

And he would burn in hell for all the lust he feels for this lost innocent soul.

Your father would never forgive him for this, just as Leon will not forgive himself for having you in his arms. Albeit of his own free will, but getting out of bed, going to the bath and rinsing his face with cold water, Leon prefers to take all the blame on himself. You are innocent... you were innocent and he stretched out his dirty hands to you, put you into his bed three months after that kiss in the barn and, no matter how disgusting it may sound, slept with you.

The most tender, most precious girl he's ever had of all, he knows that he would have made the same decision every time if God had brought him back to the day he kissed you, allowing himself to desire you. That's why it's nice to come back to bed with you, even if it's soul-destroying from himself.

You destroyed him thoroughly.

You are his sin, a sweet obsession and a mad desire designed to crush all the little that he has managed to build in his hectic life. You mock him, tear him apart so that he pursues you and falls into this sinful ocean of passion without regrets. And Leon can't do anything to himself. He was older than you, almost twice as old, well, that was fine with you. The feeling of comfort and security never left while Leon was around, as if it was something you needed all your life. As he lay back in bed, he replayed your dialogue in his head. It's one thing to kiss while muffling the egregious voice in his own head that it's not worth it, and it's completely another to insert dick into his friend's daughter.

Leon was the first in every way for you and he understood it perfectly without words. It's not that your dad forbade you to date boys, but maybe your father's attention really wasn't enough if you reciprocated his feelings?

"I could be your father… Your father and I are the same age…"

"But still, you're not my father," you smiled then, begging him with puppy eyes to teach you love and move on to something more than ordinary kisses, which of course you were crazy about, but you want to understand what it's like to be with someone you love, even if he's much older than you.

You promised him that you were ready for more, for a new stage, and Leon continued to feel as if he was seducing a young girl, doing something dirty and vicious with you, something against your will. This, of course, was not the case, but the anxiety did not go away. Asking to think about this decision, to weigh everything, led nowhere, and in the end everything happened.

"Are you sure you want this?; Are you sure?; we can stop, sweetie, at any time you want"

His voice, saturated with anxiety, accompanied you throughout your first sex with him, and it was never as described in the books... however, this was not surprising and you knew very well that what is on the pages and in films differs greatly in real life. And yet, it's good that you got Leon and not someone else, because he took care of your feelings, trying to prepare you in such a way as to reduce all discomfort to a minimum: gentle kisses, a prepared bottle of lubricant, long intimacy , careful touches. All his movements were careful and together with you, he essentially got to know your body, trying to help you and himself understand what you would like in sex. he allowed you to touch him, showed how he liked it, smiling, kissing you on the corner of your lips, seeing the embarrassment on your beautiful face.

"My dear, do you remember?" his reminders constantly sounded while his thumb caressed your swollen clit with round movements, "I will stop as soon as you say"

How could you forget? Leon was catching every emotion on your face, afraid to catch the pain, but it was good for you. It's better than if it was a guy your age who didn't give a damn about you. Leon was doing everything right, but he was still a monster in his head. You liked it. There was no blood, none of the things your friends used to scare you with, but you didn't see the stars in the sky either, no matter how funny it sounded. Just because it was the first time and yet Leon left almost a thousand kisses on your face before and after sex. He took you to the shower, gently ran a sponge over your body, washing away all traces of intimacy, wrapped you in a towel and put you back to bed, not forgetting to bring a glass of water. You were sitting on his bed and the man's hands were firmly holding you by the waist while he weightlessly touched the bridge of your nose with his lips asking about your well-being. You could joke that you really feel a little unwell after sex, but seeing your lover's panic, it would be wise not to play him like that, otherwise this could be your first and last sex with him.

"I don't regret it," you said, hoping that it would take some weight off his shoulders.

Leon reassured himself that even if nothing came of this relationship, at least your first man was the one who took care of you and did not run away the next morning, managing to tell his friends about the new notch on bedpost.

.. But yes, now if your father finds out that you've been fucked, then a fist in the nose will be the most merciful thing Leon can ever get. Most likely, it will be an explosion of epic proportions and a shootout worse than Hollywood action movies. What should it tell him? "Buddy, but we can still drink beer and watch football, it's just that now I'm still sleeping with your daughter, whom you've been caring for and cherishing all his life?" This is shit, not an explanation. If his friend had once confessed to him that he was sleeping with HIS daughter, Leon would have killed the bastard and disposed of the corpse so that no evidence would be found. That's just that he is now the main culprit, and he does not want to leave your life when such a charming angel sleeps next to him in bed.

Leon doesn’t want to leave you, but he himself has no idea what outcome his actions will lead to. Hugging and pulling your body while you sleep, he kisses the back of your head, sincerely hoping that you won’t regret what happened between you, that you won’t cry in the morning, calling everything a mistake, but the devil is not as terrible as he is imagined...

A sound sleep was interrupted by caring strokes and soft kisses, although he is not a handsome prince, but he still got a sleeping beauty and it seems that the only thing you were unhappy with sitting with him at the kitchen table was that Leon woke you up too early. Like a gloomy owl with disheveled hair, you try to focus your gaze on coffee and not fall asleep while he says something and you ignore all his speeches until your name is called.

"Did you heard what I said?" and you honestly nod your head negatively to a heavy male sigh.

Trouble obviously doesn't come alone, fortunately you don't cry or curse him, instead you just snuggle up to his back and pull him back into the bedroom to sleep an extra couple of hours with him in your arms like the whole last night.

He was a good man. Not ideal, with his own problems, fears, experiences, but still he continued to care about you more than about himself, so he carefully turned to face you, hugging you, starting to gently rock you to the sides, burying his nose in the top of your head.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked still anxiously.

"All was good"

With Leon you could relax and trust him, last night he was perfectly prepared and constantly asked if you could continue or if he should stop, and you know that if you said yes, he would immediately end everything without caring about his feelings. The main thing is you! As a result, he treats you like a princess all day long, taking care of you. He even volunteered to comb your hair, which now smelled like his shampoo, and while Leon was fiddling with the comb, at the same time remembering the jokes that your father loves so much, you just laughed and enjoyed the complete adoration of his person.

“I’ll order food for us, and you relax on the couch. Choose the movie you want.”

Not surprisingly, Leon doesn’t know how to cook, he doesn’t have much time to improve this skill, but you don’t expect him to pick you up in his arms and put you on this very sofa, covering your legs with a blanket and handing you the TV remote control. Another girl obviously wouldn’t like it, but not you, although you didn’t feel helpless. There was some discomfort, but nothing scary or that would require consulting a doctor. As a result, the two of you spent another day lying cuddled on the couch, eating pizza, watching, flipping through channels and discussing various things. Despite the age difference, there was no feeling that Leon was some kind of ancient old man walking around with an ancient push-button telephone (although you assured him that there was nothing wrong with that). He smiled, playfully flicking you on the nose and it seems he even exhaled and came to reconciliation with his inner voice, but exactly until the moment when your father called.

And conscience woke up again.

He protected you, he didn't hurt you and took good care of you, Leon is ready as a faithful doggie to accept any thing you ask him, because he is...

It's worth admitting to yourself that this is not an affair because if Leon just wanted to sleep with someone, he went to a bar and found someone who wouldn't mind spending the night with him, and you are something more. He wants to cherish you and shower kisses on your face while you're lying serenely on his couch watching the show. A good excuse for the conscience that was gnawing into his brain and telling him that he was an ordinary son of a bitch, screaming: "Look, you took advantage of the poor girl's naivety. The daughter of your friend who supported you after China! How well did you repay his kindness by dragging his favorite daughter into bed!"

The phone rang but couldn't find the strength to answer.

You asked if everything was okay, to which Leon sighs and answers yes, asking not to worry. And then he gave you his sweater and you curled up next to him and fell asleep without caring about anything, because the thunderstorm with lightning no longer scared you both. And Leon really slept well for the first time in a long time, hugging you to his chest, knowing that when he wakes up he will find you where you fell asleep - with him.

No more notes with lipstick marks or paper airplanes on the nearby pillow. Besides, it’s so nice when you snuggle up to him at night, trying to hug him. Leon allows it. Your hands are much warmer. this makes him fall out of reality when he turns to you, wrapping a blanket around your body and pressing you to him so that you don’t freeze. It can rain outside as long as you like, his phone can ring off the hook with calls all night long, but his lips will still find yours and kiss you tenderly.

The forbidden fruit is very sweet.

For the first time in years, the government agent felt like he had something to treasure. Sometimes he envied your father for the fact that he could return to a cozy home where his beloved wife and daughter were always waiting for him, eat delicious home-cooked food and sleep in bed with his loved one. Not much is needed for happiness, according to Leon, and he would also like to receive this gift. But probably for you it's all just an affair. For children, you are young and he himself is not trying to knock you up. Besides, marriage is a matter that should be approached wisely, and neither you nor Leon are fools, so he doesn’t even console himself with the hope of a future together.

As a matter of fact, the matter is rubbish and Kennedy should not have put you to bed at all. How can he look your father in the eyes after what happened? And you? so Leon again does an even more disgusting thing - he ignores you.

You wrote him several messages, called him a couple of times, but the calls went unanswered, he didn’t even send a tiny message like “Sorry, work. I’ll call you later” or “I’ll call you when I’m free.” Yes, he could at least write something and not remain silent like a fuckboy who fucked half of the college! But you are not intruding, no, but this does not mean that you are not offended and you do not feel that you were simply used. For many months you felt this beautiful love for him, afraid to show it, but when the miracle happened, it turned out that the gingerbread house was not so sweet.

It was a complete failure, which brought you to tears, although you didn’t pester him with calls and messages because you didn’t want to look stupid, like the girls from high school who were chasing guys around. There should still be pride, but do you really have to pretend now that nothing happened between you? Actually, it wasn’t even that bad, right? he looked after you and didn’t throw you out of his apartment after sex; he was sweet and gentle, but no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself of this, the resentment still stuck like a bone in your throat.

Therefore, you locked yourself in a room and did not leave it for hours, and to all the requests of your parents you answered one thing "I feel not well", of course you managed to slip unnoticed into the toilet, but if your father saw this terribly swollen face from tears, then his weapon, which was always hidden from you when you were still a child, risked shooting someone- something in the balls, if your dad found out that the reason was a guy.

Although it would be more correct to say an adult man.

But your nightly sobs did not go unnoticed, and in the end, your dad really wanted to kick someone's ass because his babygirl was constantly crying due to a broken heart.

“If he somehow offended you, just tell me,” he asks, stroking your back soothingly, and you can’t even squeeze out a word, just cry. "And this little piece of shit will remember that he can’t offend my girl."

Your father’s words made you laugh through your tears and calm down a little. Although you were still terribly swollen with a huge nose from which snot flowed every now and then, thanks to the support of your close person, life no longer seems so spoiled. However, no matter how your dad tried to find out the name, you didn’t tell him anything about Leon.

After a couple of weeks, you were even able to calm down and have fun with friends, but still the image of Kennedy kept popping up in your head, haunting you both in your dreams and in reality, despite all your attempts to distract yourself. He never left you a single message, thereby forcing you to draw conclusions.

Your college classes will begin in the fall, so there is not much time left to rest, so you decided to make the most of the rest of the summer, but returning home you clearly hear the sound of cleaning weapons and a painfully familiar voice that raises a wave of anxiety in chest.

"...I swear to God I'll find out who this asshole, Leon." Your heart tries to jump out of your chest when you press your ear to the door of your father’s room where he keeps a gun and other things that are not for your eyes. Leon himself almost doesn’t answer and you honestly don’t even want to face him anymore because the resentment still bites painfully into your throat making your eyes water.

It's not good to eavesdrop, but what could you do with yourself? Part of you hoped that he felt at least some guilt for treating you so badly.

“He’s such an asshole...” Leon says quietly in an unnatural voice. "Definitely deserved the bullet"

Maybe he didn't deserve a bullet after all, your heart is not so cruel as to wish him dead, but you could slap him in the face, although you don't want to see him at all, so carefully moving away from the door, go upstairs to your room and lock yourself in it again hoping that Leon will leave before you get hungry. It took about two hours before stomach growled for food. A bar of chocolate in purse briefly saved the situation, which caused an almost opera orchestra of an empty stomach to resound throughout the room. As luck would have it, a delicious aroma came from the kitchen from below, from which wings almost literally grew behind your back and you flew down to try this freshly baked pasta. Your mom called you to the table a couple of times, but it looks like Leon didn't go anywhere, once again staying at dinner with your family, and how the hell did he end up in the same room with him?!

But you can't tell them that Leon is the guy who dumped you after the first sex.

Therefore, it went downstairs and met his guilty gaze. You didn't say a word to each other at dinner, although Leon asked neutral questions like are you okay? It's a shitty question, actually, and your want to throw this plate at his head so Leon's answer is a simple nod.

Your parents are sure it's about the boy who broke their daughter's heart, but they don't know that this "boy" is right in front of them. That makes Leon even more sick of himself, but what happened was clearly a mistake.

He had no right to drag a young girl into his bed, he had no right to touch you at all, and yet the vicious feeling turned out to be stronger than the mind. And yet Leon thinks you can easily overcome your first crush, because no matter how you look at it, this relationship is hopeless. He will not be able to marry you, will not create a family and the people around him will always condemn and most of their sidelong glances will be directed at you. Damn, your dad took out a loan so you could go to the college of your dreams and fall in love with someone like him, the worst possible idea.

"She'll find a better boyfriend in college," Leon said to your father that afternoon. Although he wanted to bite his tongue, because he didn't want to give you to some brat at all, but his mind kept saying that it would be the right thing to do. You deserve a quiet life, and everyone Leon gets attached to sooner or later leaves. Therefore, this time he decided to leave first. And yet he really acted no better than any jerk when he ignored you and your messages.

Dinner passed in tense silence. Your appetite disappeared and a piece wouldn’t go down your throat, which is why you offered to help your mom put the leftover food into the refrigerator, at the same time running away from Leon because tears were running down your cheeks by themselves. Standing in the kitchen, washing the dirty dishes, you were drowned in your thoughts, realizing that you were again sliding into the deep bottom of self-torture, because of this you did not hear the steps behind you, shuddering in surprise when Leon’s hands carefully placed them on your waist.

"Forgive me" It seems that he himself does not know how to choose the right words, but takes his hands away from you, looking around so that your parents do not hear this conversation "I know I acted like an asshole, but it's not going to work. It's wrong, God, you're old enough to be my daughter, and I don't know what I was thinking when I was doing this with you.

You're silent, turning away from him, continuing to wash the poor plate, and Leon is ready to swear that your silence is a hundred times worse than if you were yelling at him.

"You're so young, good, please... Sweetie, I didn't mean to offend you. Trust me, this was never part of my plans, and when your father told me how you cried all night long... It will pass. You'll find yourself a good guy of the same age, well, maybe he'll be a little older than you by two years or maybe three, well, certainly not more than fifteen years."

You are silent again, putting down a clean plate and starting on another one, standing with your back to him.

"This is the first love... And I gave up on myself. You're a wonderful girl..."

"Is it my age?" You rudely interrupt him: "Am I not experienced enough or am I just disgusting to you?"

Finally you turn around turning off the water with your arms crossed over your chest. But God no, that's not what he meant! If he had his way... if it's not the damn framework that Leon mostly pushes himself into, then he won't admit to himself, but he wants there to be no more men in your life besides him. In an intimate way.

"No, God, no, your inexperience has nothing to do with it at all!" he says and immediately tries to take a deep breath, looking around seeing the shadows of your parents, realizing that he chose the wrong place and time to clarify the relationship. "I mean, I can't give you what you want. Honey, at my age, I can seduce a young girl only with my unlimited account card, but you... You need attention, love and care. You see how often your father is away from home and I'm there even less often. Besides, you still don't understand that it won't lead to anything, it's falling in love, butterflies in your stomach, what else is there... euphoria? Please don't think that the world has come together like a wedge on me. Believe me, I'm the most lame option."

"Is it still about age?" Through a lump in your throat, you said softly, "Not old enough for you? "

"I'm too old for you"

It sounded like a sledgehammer had fallen on your head. You let out a shuddering sigh, turning away from him again, because in fact, in your opinion, there is nothing wrong with this relationship. You are not a teenager, some of your age may even have children, and sometimes such a thought has slipped through your mind. Only after graduation, not before. Leon claims that it's just falling in love, but it feels like he's trying to convince himself of this and yet it's very difficult for you to say anything to him right now. The moment is really unfortunate.

“It’s not fair” you turned away, not knowing what else to say to him.

In essence, his argument sounded like a stupid excuse to get rid of an annoying fan while remaining noble. The aftertaste of his words nevertheless remains disgusting.

Of course, you won’t complain to daddy, but your soul was becoming more and more lousy as it seemed that this was the same love that was breaking to the core. It’s as if all the bright colors have disappeared from life, leaving only shades of black and gray without a single hint of joy. Perhaps in a few years this will be perceived as stupidity, but what matters is how you feel now. And this is a piercing, gut-wrenching pain. For several months he flirted, cared, made it clear that this was not a game and that everything was serious for him, but the truth turned out to be too cruel.

Your mother comes in exactly at the moment when you can barely restrain yourself from bursting into tears again at the top of your voice, and she perfectly sees this expression on your face. And it’s obvious that you give up, running to your room, leaving the dishes unwashed, so that you can lock yourself in the room again and not leave there for days on end.

Everyone has their own truth. Leon thought that he escaped with less bloodshed and that you were prudent enough not to make stupid mistakes. Because of his actions, many people have already died and if he finds out that you did something to yourself...

Fortunately, your father just thinks that Leon has found the wrong words of comfort, and this is the reason for lying in bed all day because of your lack of desire to do anything at all right now. When your brain becomes a little clearer after several cycles of sleep alternating with insomnia, it eventually requires you to shift your attention to something other than Leon. In fact, the idea of watching The Lord of the Rings is not the worst, although your father was worried that you would withdraw into yourself again after seeing Aragorn and Arwen break up, involuntarily comparing them to yourself, but nothing terrible happened. You just watched TV, even sometimes smiled at some moments, and then fell asleep, and no one dared to disturb your already light sleep.

“Leon shouldn’t have opened this wound. I shouldn’t have asked him to talk to you.”

Your father confessed in the end, feeling guilty for your next relapse of tears. You sigh and at some point you even want to confess everything to him, clutching the corner of the blanket while you and dad watch the movie together, but you change your mind.

It's probably better not to know the whole truth, because if it comes out, then Armageddon will be.

But maybe Leon is right and this is just falling in love, which you just need to get over, despite the fact that it’s not easy.

Kennedy also disappeared from everyone's radar, appearing only at work. However, he still couldn’t concentrate on reports and training; instead of important thoughts, only you and your tear-stained eyes were spinning in his head. He wanted to console you, to tell you that he was wrong, although he told himself the opposite. The decision that he made, Leon considered truly true and correct, but for some reason everything inside him spoke of the opposite, so the only way to feel sorry for himself, he chose alcohol.

It was like a slow death. Being away from a loved one without being able to even touch. Why not agony? every burning sip of alcohol drew your face in front of his eyes and the desire to get lost with you in the world so that both would never be found was something painfully new for Leon.

He will burn in the fire, but you will remain the peak that he cannot reach. Like a fucking drug that he became addicted to and the pain of withdrawal seems to be many times stronger than the one when Ada left him. He desperately needs to get back to you, to his beloved girlfriend, and just be there for you. But it's so wrong. He didn't give a damn about sex… The hated job sucks all the life juices out of him, so the only thing he wants to do after returning home is to get into a hot shower, washing away blood, dirt and guts. He would have taught you everything, explored boundaries together, guided you… It's not such a big problem, considering how attracted you are to him, and not only in an erotic way. Leon just wants to fall asleep with you, hugging you to him. Listening to the chatter and making these stupid jokes that annoy everyone, but at least you were smiling.

Without you, he's drowning in this sea again.

Let this world be so cruel, but it continues to love you with all its soul, therefore it is ready to sacrifice everything without regret and protect you to the end. Every moment with you was colorful, but with his decision, Leon brought everything back to normal, afraid to be happy. At least Chris said something like that to him when she saw that he was drowning himself in alcohol again. These words made Leon curl his lips in an almost malicious smile, snarling because Redfield didn't know how old you were. If he confessed, he would get something like, "Well, it's just lust." Maybe even reminded him of Ada Wong and how Leon was ready to shoot to save this woman.

But life was filled with meaning only when he was with you and not with Ada. He no longer needs a senseless race after each other when he finally managed to bite into a piece of that life where he is loved and expected.

"I have no future with her, Redfield!" he barked, pouring more whiskey into a glass. "My little American dream of a pretty wife, two children and a white picket fence will not come true."

In fact, Leon would be glad to have you alone in his life. He wants too much, although what is available to ordinary people, Leon is fully aware that he has long lost the right to have it. Your father was not afraid to start a family and you, he loves to talk about what pranks you did in childhood and how you sometimes scared your parents by doing something stupid. The usual parental care. Leon thinks that if he were an officer in Raccoon City, as he dreamed, then now he would also be chatting with some cop about what his children are doing.

Eventually, the sand castle built in the head collapsed immediately.

Where is HIS happy "together and forever"? Obviously in another universe, because in this one he still understands that an old jerk with an alcohol problem and an endless sense of guilt clearly shouldn't bother a young girl without experience.

In fact, he's not such a scumbag as to ruin your life. It's better to be a bad experience than an asshole partner who is also never around.

But you're still as beautiful as the day he met you. However, now you keep your distance from each other, which makes the pain of parting remind you how difficult it is without him. Naively, you drew a too unrealistic picture in your head about this relationship and for some reason you still believe in it, hoping for a fairy tale with a happy ending. From that, you constantly look at Leon with a long piercing look that is literally soaked with a plea to take you back.

You could shout, "Look, I'm aware of my choice! And that's you," but sometimes I wondered if he needed you.

After all, Leon deliberately tore up the little that you recreated with him, preferring to go his own way through life alone.

He doesn't talk to you and has kept communication with your father to a minimum due to the inability to look him in the eye. In fact, Leon really wants to get some kind of punishment for what he did to you, for being so dirty and dishonest, and yet like a puppy, he almost whines wishing that it was you who loved him. Maybe there would be another woman who could heal his mental wounds and the question of age would not be so acute, but Leon does not let anyone get too close to him. Sometimes Ada still comes and he honestly tries to find solace in her, sometimes it even works, but his medicine for longing has too short an effect and a new dose is too difficult to find…

Although he knows where you live, what position you like to sleep in, what kind of music you listen to and all that…

On very difficult days, the hand reaches out to read those sent messages. Flipping through the correspondence in the chat, going back to the very beginning when there was no question of any relationship, when you still just considered him just a colleague of your father but already sent something funny, which made a smile appear on his face by itself.

You haven't written to him for about two months, although the impulses to start scribbling message after message still do not leave, but if before it was a cry of the soul for the way he treated you, now you are ready to literally beg him to give you a chance. Yes, you're young, you're still studying, but you don't demand marriage and children from him right away. And besides, you already have all the rights to make decisions for yourself, even if sometimes they are thoughtless and you still need parental help because of your age. But everything comes with age, right? No one starts walking right after birth and you think you have the right to make mistakes and learn from them, so if Leon turns out to be one of them, then you will face the consequences yourself.

You wanted to write something like this to him, but you constantly deleted the printed lines and wrote again, unable to find the strength to send it to him.

Courage came and went at the most inopportune moment, giving way to doubt and low self-esteem. And yet it was he who kissed you first in the barn, gave you expensive gifts and courted you like a man and not like a brat. Seriously, you don't even pay attention to guys your age, focusing only on one man who was killing his liver and psyche. Of course, there is a high probability that in five years or so you will want to go back in time and hit yourself on the head, but nevertheless it will be later. Only in the possible future, but for now, slowly walking through the wet streets of the city under an umbrella, you slowly wander to a familiar apartment, trying to keep your courage in your fists and not let it escape. It gets too wet on the streets, and it's cool, which makes your palms get cold, but still, gathering your courage, you knock on the door of an apartment in the city center.

The knocking is too quiet, so you try to knock a little louder, but as soon as your palm hovers over the door, Leon's face immediately appears in front of you, forcing all the rehearsed words to disappear from your head.

It seems at first he can't believe his eyes. You are standing in front of him, in a cute raincoat, with an umbrella in your hands, whose hand you are nervously pulling and your hair is a little wet - reality and not his drunken imagination, although for a couple of seconds Leon still thinks that this is his drunken delirium.

"Um…Sorry for being uninvited… I just wanted…To talk?" almost stuttering, you say, looking into his blue eyes that seem a little drunk, "Will you let me in?"

He sighs and you wait with bated breath for the verdict, hoping that you don't look like a fool in front of him. It takes maybe ten seconds before Leon nods, stepping back and you enter his apartment with small steps, standing on the threshold, still nervously but holding on to your umbrella more tightly, scratching the handle with your thumb nail in excitement.

Maybe he's just overworked, but there's an unfinished bottle of alcohol on the table and Leon himself seems disheveled, but still he holds out his hand to you and you look at him in amazement, not realizing that he just offers to take your umbrella and raincoat to dry them a little. Slow reaction is normal for ordinary people and Leon never condemns you for this, in fact, he's not even angry, deep down he's probably even glad that you appeared briefly in his life again, however…

"Something happened?" He asks in a tired tone, although he can see from your body language how tense you are, hoping that you don't have any very serious problems, why are you so worried "Do you have problems or…"

At that moment, you realize that the conversation you are about to have will be long and emotionally difficult.

As the saying goes, "Fortune favors the bold " even if your legs are shaking with fear, then at least you will try to solve this dilemma with him.

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mrzombielover · 1 month

Text

- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

#!my stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #ok how do i tag this…#first man adam #first man adam x reader #idfk idc #!not sfw #female reader #this is like so cringe LMFAO #it’s ok tho idc😜

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flowerandblood · 3 months

Text

The Gate of Salvation [3/3]

[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, kissing, smut, sexual tension, angst, religious guilt, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]

[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]

A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Epilogue: The Song of Songs

Aemond as a Pope Edit

Series Characters Moodboard

Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After what they had done they lasted for a moment in the tight embrace of each other's arms, trying to calm their breathing, his hand stroking her soft hair.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" He asked so quietly that she barely heard him; she felt a tightening in her heart at the thought of how much she wanted nothing more and how inappropriate it was.

Nonetheless, she knew they were both scared, embarrassed and needed their closeness, proof that although the situation was complicated and hopeless, they were in it together.

"Yes." She whispered and heard him sigh loudly in relief, as if he feared that she now abhorred and hated him, that she would betray him, sell the story to the newspapers, destroy him as a man, as a priest and as a pope.

She thought that they were both complicit in this situation, and although she felt remorse knowing that she had contributed to him breaking his celibacy, some kind of warmth filled her lower abdomen.

She thought with despair that she had fallen in love with him.

She looked in her drawers for some of her uncle's old tracksuits that he had left in his flat and gave them to him to change into, showing him beforehand how to turn on the washing machine so he could clean the ones he came in. Taking advantage of the fact that he was in the bathroom, she changed into dry underwear and sighed quietly, somehow feeling clean again.

She waited for him lying on her bed – when he came out of her bathroom he looked at her for a moment standing in the entrance, clearly not knowing what to say, his face just like hers, red from tears and emotion.

"I'm sorry." He whispered helplessly. She sighed quietly, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with understanding.

"Do not apologise, Holy Father."

He swallowed heavily and moved towards her, startling her when he lay down opposite her and immediately hid his face in the material of her shirt between her breasts, his large hands clamped down on her back.

"Can you embrace me?" He asked uncertainly with a regret and embarrassment from which she felt a squeeze in her throat, the fingers of one of her hands sinking into his short hair while the other wrapped around his waist.

She felt him tense and wondered sadly after what she had learned, if anyone had ever hugged him, if he had found his place and understanding in someone's arms.

"Can I fall asleep like this?" He asked again. She sighed quietly, leaned in and kissed his hair, stroking it with her fingers – she felt a shiver pass through him, his hands clenched tighter on the material of her shirt.

"Yes." She whispered; she felt him move closer to her, snuggling his whole body into her, felt his desperation, the fact that he was and needed to be vulnerable, weak, protected, that he wanted to feel and love, wanted to suffer, to experience what others did.

"If it's a sin, why do I feel so peaceful?" He asked quietly, one of his hands trailing up and down her spine making wonderful shivers run through her – she nuzzled her nose into his hair, thinking on the answer.

She understood perfectly what he had in mind, because she felt the same.

She felt a kind of shame at the thought that her grief and remorse was less than she had expected and was only concerned with the fact that she was afraid someone would find out about this.

"I don't know, Holy Father. I am ashamed that my soul is so quiet now. Perhaps it hasn't yet come to us what has happened?" She asked quietly, watching as her fingers tentatively played with his hair. She heard his murmur of contentment, his face pressed tighter into her chest.

She wondered how it was possible that he could breathe in such a position.

"I need you by my side if I am to keep my sanity. I need you because Vatican is like a dark, black hole, like hell on earth, the centre of Sodom and Gomorrah." He whispered into the fabric of her shirt, his voice vibrating through her whole body, apart from their breathing all that could be heard was the quiet ticking of the clock standing on her bedside table.

She swallowed loudly, feeling her heart begin to beat faster, torn internally by her own insecurities and doubts; he felt it, his fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt tighter.

"It's too late. Too late. I can't take it back. This is God's answer to my prayers, to my plea that He not leave me alone. He sent you to me as a sign, as my revelation and salvation." He muttered, and she clenched her eyelids, feeling tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, hugging him tighter, realising with despair that he had possessed her the very first moment she saw him.

"A sign of depravity and bitterness? A taste of sorrow and eternal thirst? That is what I am and will be for you, Holy Father." She exhaled with difficulty, feeling her body begin to twitch, her breast trembled in a heavy breath. He raised himself on his elbow and looked at her, his large hand touched her cheek with a tenderness and respect from which she felt a squeeze in her throat.

"No. No, you are my joy. My flower garden to which I escape with my thoughts when I am tired. My faithful need me, and I need you." He said softly, wiping with his thumb from her warm cheeks the tears that ran down her face.

"I will not go to a monastery, Holy Father. It is not my vocation." She whispered and he pressed his lips together, swallowing with difficulty.

She could see in his gaze that he was struggling with himself and his disappointment, that he wanted to somehow make sure that he would have her exclusively as a man and a Pope.

"So what is?" He asked finally; she looked at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, realising with that she didn't know the answer to that question, that she didn't know what she wanted to do after university, where she wanted to live, how she saw the next years of her life.

"I don't know. It's a very difficult question." She muttered in a trembling voice, bursting into sobs when this time it was he who pulled her close and embraced her, letting her snuggle into his chest, locking her in a tight grasp of his arms as she did before, placing warm, tender kisses on her hair, combing through it with his fingertips.

"− shhh − it's okay − I'm here for you, child − I won't let you get lost − I'll take care of you −" He whispered, and although she knew there was something ambiguous and indecent in his words, she felt relieved, her fingers tightened into fists on the material of his sweatshirt, his wonderful scent filling her lungs.

There was something wonderful and tender about the fact that neither of them tried to touch each other anymore in a way that could be perceived as purely physical – they just cuddled, stroked and intertwined their fingers. She felt the heat in her chest every time she turned in bed lying in his arms facing him, his lips placing a lingering, soft, wet kiss on her forehead.

"− sleep, child − sleep, I am with you −" He whispered tenderly. She felt butterflies in her stomach and sighed softly, cuddling her face into the hollow of his neck smelling of his perfume as they fell asleep again.

It was the most beautiful night of her life.

She was woken in the morning by the sizzle of oil in the pan; she opened her eyes, unsure for a moment where she was and pulled herself up on her bed, frowning.

She got up and walked out of her bedroom into the corridor, but stopped immediately with her heart beating fast, seeing him standing with his back to her in her kitchen, again all dressed in a white tracksuit. She realised by the smell that he was making scrambled eggs.

The Pope she had spent the night with was just making them breakfast in her kitchen.

Good God, she thought with amusement and walked closer – he heard the sound of her footsteps and turned over his shoulder, a soft contentment on his face.

"Good morning. We have to leave soon, so I decided to prepare something quick. I didn't want to wake you up. You were sleeping so peacefully." He hummed with some kind of warmth and tenderness from which her heart beat faster; she swallowed quietly, trying not to think about the fact that she felt his words deep between her thighs.

She wanted to ask him if he really thought she should still be working for him, to tell him that it wasn't wise, but she realised that there was no desire in her to object.

I will take care of you.

She wasn't sure what he meant by those words, but she knew that some part of her wanted his assurance to come true.

After a short prayer, which took her completely by surprise, and which apparently was a daily occurrence for him before every meal, they ate breakfast while listening to the morning broadcasts on the radio.

She didn't know where she should be looking, so she just focused on her plate, tasting what he had prepared, finding to her surprise that his scrambled eggs were perfectly fried and spiced. She grunted quietly and lifted her gaze to him when she suddenly remembered something important, from which she felt a cold sweat on her back.

"We should go to confession…shouldn't we?" She asked, not daring to suggest for what reason, figuring he would know what she meant. He raised his surprised gaze at her and took a sip of his coffee, then set his mug down on the table.

"Of course." He replied, and she lowered her gaze to her plate, feeling that she had lost all appetite, terrified of the humiliation that awaited her and what she had to confess.

She allowed herself to be touched by the priest and took pleasure in it herself.

"Go to Father Lenz, I will also pay him a visit. He is a very good confessor. He's the only one I trust." He said matter-of-factly, throwing her a look that told her that gossip spreads like a disease in Rome and Vatican and she could not confide such a sin to just anyone.

Clearly not everybody respected the seal of confession, she thought with dismay.

"I'll go now." He said getting up abruptly from his seat, taking his player out of his pocket, putting his earphones into his ears and pulling his hood over his head. "I'll meet you in the Vatican."

He said and simply walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving her with a look of disbelief on her face.

She covered her mouth with her hand, clenching her eyelids and swallowed loudly, wondering what she was actually doing.

What had exactly happened between them?

Who was she to him now?

His lover?

She thought with pain that as long as he was by her side everything was well, but now that she was left alone with her thoughts she was crushed by the weight of what had taken place, of who the person who had touched her was.

What they had done.

She felt tears of fear and shame under her eyelids, of bitterness and anger that he wasn't just an ordinary man about whom she could have some hope, that even if not now, in the future their relationship would stop being something bad.

In their case there was no such possibility, what they had done was a contradiction of everything they should represent, what he symbolised as the Head of the Church.

She thought sadly that he was wrong.

That it was not God who had sent her to him, but the Devil, as a temptation that would lead to his downfall.

She drove to the Vatican with a heavy heart, sad, distracted and heartbroken, thinking with shame that she had acted like an animal that couldn't control itself and lowered her gaze, looking down at her hands.

When she got out of the car in the courtyard Father Lenz was waiting for her as usual. They both moved inside the building, but she stopped him in mid-step, placing her hand on his arm.

"I would like to make a confession." She muttered, the man cast her a calm glance over his shoulder and nodded.

She thought with shame that he already knew everything.

To her surprise, he did not take her to the basilica or any chapel but to the garden; they sat side by side on one of the white stone benches, the sun shining high above them.

She wondered for a moment if she should keep the formula, but decided after a moment that it was just a waste of time.

"I have sinned, Father. I gave in to the weakness of my flesh. I led a clerical person to his and my moral downfall." She muttered, feeling that with every word she spoke her voice quivered more and more, tears of regret and bitterness gathered in the corners of her eyes.

A long silence answered her, during which she only looked at her knees, wiping her wet cheeks with her hands, trying to calm her ragged, broken breathing.

"You are not responsible for anyone's downfall but your own, child, though I think you are using too solemn words. What happened?" He asked, although she knew perfectly well from his posture that the Pope himself had confessed to him exactly the same things she was telling him now.

"He touched me and brought me to fulfilment with my permission." She whispered in shame, swallowing loudly, feeling small, dirty, worthless, breathless at the memory of how wonderful it had been to fall asleep in his embrace and wept quietly.

"What happened next?" He asked calmly and she sighed heavily, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"We went to sleep, cuddled together. But nothing more happened between us." She mumbled, fiddling with the material of her black dress between her fingers in a nervous gesture, her leg bouncing with stress.

She wondered how she could have done it.

"Hm." He hummed and sighed quietly, bowing his head.

"I'm going to tell you something now, child. I'm going to tell you this as a man, not a priest, and you're going to listen to me. Vatican devours people. It sucks the energy out of them, their strength, their free will. Cardinals manage to believe in God or do a merciful deed, however, they are first and foremost businessmen, officials, monarchs. Do you know why Cardinal Targaryen was elected Pope?

Because they thought he would be easy to manipulate.

Quiet, withdrawn, reading books or concentrating on prayer. He spoke to no one, befriended no one, confided in no one. They thought they had planted someone lost, weak-willed and without an opinion on Peter's throne. Meanwhile, he had fooled them all. He planned it deliberately."

He spoke calmly, looking ahead with blank eyes. She stared at him in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding hard, her throat squeezed so tightly that she breathed with difficulty.

Meanwhile, he had fooled them all.

He had planned it deliberately.

Was it the same with her?

Was it possible that her uncle wasn't the only one treating her as a pawn?

"He never confided in anyone, never spoke to anyone for longer than necessary. He doesn't let anyone sit or eat in his presence, he locks himself in his solitary room and sits there for hours. Except when you visit the Vatican. I exchange a maximum of four sentences with him during the day, while with you he talks for hours." He said looking at her finally, the expression on his face gentle and heartfelt, her lips parted in disbelief, her cheeks hot with emotion.

"He has fallen in love with you. He had already admitted this to me after confession, asking me for advice. And although it creates a temptation to sin I told him to keep you close. I believe that God sent you to him like cold water to a man who has sunk into hell and is burning in it every day. He is completely alone. Despite my deepest efforts, I cannot help him."

He muttered, covering his face with his hand and she watched in disbelief as the grown man sitting next to her burst out crying like a small child. She pressed her fingers to her lips and stifled the sobs that wanted to escape her throat, hot tears one by one running down her cheeks.

He fell in love with you.

"He told me he trusts only you, Father." She whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm her ragged breathing. Father Lenz looked at her and laughed in a way that made her feel at least uncomfortable.

"He knows that I report on him. He knows that one of the cardinals, a fierce opponent of your uncle, is blackmailing me. But I don't always tell him about what I see and hear. Not about everything. Do you understand?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she nodded, looking at him with horror and fear, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

"Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." He said lowly, making the sign of the cross in the air with his hand in front of her.

"Amen." She mumbled, not looking at him but at her feet, quivering all over, tears of disbelief and despair making the world around her seem blurred.

"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good."

"His mercy endures for ever." She whispered and rose from her seat, moving quickly ahead, covering her mouth with her hand, bursting into hysterical sobs, feeling that she had panicked.

She headed towards his office where he usually worked, the same one her uncle had taken her to when she first saw him. One of the guards, on seeing her, simply opened the door, as if he had been warned that she would come.

She walked slowly inside, and the door closed behind her with a loud clatter of wood.

She looked to her left and saw his figure clad in a white cassock, sprawled comfortably in his chair, reading some documents. He lifted his gaze to her and for a moment just looked at her, as if shocked by her condition, then rose quickly, staring at her with concern.

"Good God, what's happened?" He asked in a trembling voice, his eyebrows raised in fear.

She knew she wasn't allowed to do this, she knew she shouldn't, that if anyone saw them it would be over, but she couldn't help herself.

She wept as she ran to him and pressed her face to his chest, feeling the cold cross hanging from his neck against her cheek, embracing him tightly around his waist, clenching her fingers on his cassock.

"Holy Father." She mumbled like a helpless child who needed someone to lead her by her hand, like a frightened bird that had fallen out of its nest, like a ship that was unable to find its way to port.

"− calm down, child − I'm here − shhh −" He hushed her, sinking his face into the top of her head, stroking her neck and back with his hands with calm, tender movements full of affection, his wonderful scent filling her lungs.

"− it's okay −" He whispered soothingly, combing his fingers through her hair – she felt a wonderful shiver ran down her spine every time he did it and closed her eyes thinking only of how safe she felt.

She murmured quietly, relaxing and calming as she felt his lips on her head, heard him place drawn out, wet kisses on her hair.

"I love the way you smell. I saw your perfume in your bathroom and bought myself one just like it so I can remind myself of you when I fall asleep here alone. After my escape they increased my protection, they don't leave my side." He whispered softly, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought of how deep his feeling, his devotion, his commitment, his desire was.

"I want you to pose for a painting made on my request as Mary Magdalene."

She could not put into words how ambiguous, lewd, intimate his proposal was. He gave her time to think, indicating that he would respect her refusal, but said that he wanted to have her by his side also in the quarters in which he slept, said he would hang the painting opposite his bed.

When she asked him if this sight would distract his thoughts from God he replied that he had never felt the presence of God as strongly as when he thought of her.

Lying in her room in complete darkness, she thought about what Father Lenz had told her.

He has fallen in love with you.

Vatican devours people.

He is completely alone.

She closed her eyes, swallowing loudly, thinking about the question he had asked her that morning regarding what she thought her vocation was, and wondered if in some incomprehensible way God was trying to tell her something.

I believe that God sent you to him like cold water to a man who has sunk into hell and is burning in it every day.

She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of his sullen, absolute loneliness among people who were so vain and power-hungry, and she wondered where he was going to get the strength to fight against paedophilia, abuse of power, bribes and profligacy when almost everyone around him was content with this state of affairs.

She found herself wondering if her presence could support him in some way, give him courage, a sense that there was someone by his side who didn't care about his position or money, someone who simply loved him, gave him comfort and tenderness in moments of doubt.

She thought with a kind of relief that there was nothing disgusting, nothing disturbing in this thought, that although certain things would remain taboo, the feeling that God had aroused in her heart could not be wrong in nature, because it did not stem from a desire to objectify.

For some reason she felt the desire to sacrifice herself for him, to suffer for him, to die every day for the love of him.

She agreed to his proposal.

He made sure that the painter's arrival at the Vatican was covered by complete secrecy – it was agreed that she would stay until the evening to work and then come to one of the small rooms where they would wait for her.

When she walked in she saw them in half darkness, the Pope dressed in his white cassock with a large cross on his chest was speaking with a middle-aged man about what stood before them, a small platform on which lay an ornate cushion and a cloth on which lay a skull, the only source of light was the tall and low candles standing around on the floor.

When they saw her the Pope grunted and nodded, folding his arms behind him.

"Come closer, child. This is Marco, the painter I mentioned to you." He said softly, though his expression stern, contentment lurked in his eye.

She swallowed loudly and walked towards them, feeling her heart pounding like mad, terrified of what they had come up with, of someone catching them.

"Marco has prepared a robe for you to pose in. Wear just that and let your hair down. We'll wait in the other room." He said calmly and nodded at the man, walking out through a small door, closing it behind them.

She was left alone.

She walked over to a chair on which lay a cream-coloured, simple linen long robe – when she picked it up she found it pleasant to the touch, with pieces of cloth hanging down the sides to tie around her waist.

She stripped naked and, with trembling hands, placed the garment over herself, arranging it like a bathrobe, tying a knot at the waist so that the whole thing would hold together somehow and not reveal anything. She pulled the pins out of her hair and undid her braid, letting her dark curls fall to her shoulders.

"I'm ready." She muttered in a trembling voice and heard the sound of the door opening.

The Pope stepped inside and paused, letting out a loud breath as if this sight surprised him, his lips parted slightly; she felt heat in her lower abdomen when she saw him involuntarily lick them with his tongue.

"Lie down and take this skull in your hands. Yes, just like that." He said, stepping closer to her, placing his warm hands on her shoulders covered by her soft cloth, arranging her as he had apparently seen her in his vision, moving the skull in her hands so that it lay in front of her, next to her body.

"Your body is to lie down, but your face must be tilted towards me. Perfect." Said Marco when she did as he asked, glancing down at his canvas and at her.

She felt strangely cornered and small, tense that all attention was on her.

"No. One more thing." The Pope hummed. A powerful shudder ran through her body, her lips parted in horror as he gently grabbed the fabric that covered her chest and pulled it aside, revealing a part of her breasts and the golden cross between them, her sternum and stomach, just a hint more and her nipples would be visible.

"Gorgeous." He whispered, looking at her with a gaze that was dark, hazy and dreamy, she felt the muscles inside her clench desperately around nothing at his words, her breath stopped in her throat.

She was terrified and aroused.

She was wet.

"Do not be afraid, child. Marco does not feel lust at the sight of a woman's body. You are safe here." He said softly, with a kind of need to soothe her, to give her the feeling that he did not desire to take advantage of her, that this was about something more. She sighed quietly as his hand rose to her cheek, closing her eyes in relief when his thumb ran over her warm skin.

"Beautiful." He murmured and stood up, looking at her with proud satisfaction, as if he had just gazed upon some mystical scene, a revelation as if from the Bible, as if he truly believed her to be sacred.

He stood behind the painter, who had already begun to sketch her silhouette, and pressed his lips together, furrowing his brow.

"You have to properly render the shape of her lips, the warmth of her gaze, the softness of her hair. That's the most important thing to me, I want the most significant point of the painting to be her face." He said dryly, the man nodded wordlessly, apparently writing down his words in his head.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence, the loud ticking sound of a tall, large clock standing against the wall all around them.

"No. That's not the look I mean. Get out. Give us a moment." He said, startling them both. Marco grunted and put his pencil down on the easel, nodded and walked out into the other room, closing the door behind him.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked in a trembling voice, raising herself up on her elbows, but he commanded her with a hand gesture not to get up and sat down beside her with a quiet rustling of the fabric of his cassock.

"No, sweet flower. But I can see your terror." He said softly, touching her cheek with his palm again, into which she immediately cuddled her face, desperately needing his touch, his closeness, his wonderful scent filling her lungs and her mind.

"Your tension." He added, his voice changed slightly, deep and sharp; she trembled hearing the way he said the words, involuntarily clenching her thighs.

He noticed it out of the corner of his eye and sighed quietly, as if he had been forced to the last resort, as if fate had left him no choice.

"It's all right now. Come here." He hummed, his hand sliding lower, in a gentle motion full of care and respect digging his fingers into the soft skin of her thigh hidden beneath the material of her robe – her heart began to pound like mad, her hands clenched on the pillow on either side of her head.

"Open." He commanded, and she shook her head quickly, her legs twitching all over in his grasp, feeling the sticky liquid running down her buttocks onto the bedding beneath her. He pressed his lips together, looking at her like a naughty child who refused to comply.

"Open, I say. I see your suffering. The Holy Father only wants to help you, child." He said calmly, as if he was explaining something obvious to her, something that was essential and necessary.

She swallowed loudly and parted her lips as her thighs finally opened, a sigh of contentment came from his nose – she tilted her head back suppressing a moan of surprise when his hand from her hip slid between the material of her robe, right between her legs.

"− it's alright − it's alright − shhhh −" He hushed her hearing her quiver of delight as the tips of his fingers ran over her fleshy womanhood, collecting her moisture, spreading it in circular, steady strokes around her bud, the tickle she felt in her lower abdomen was unbearable.

"− oh God −" She mumbled out, her body quivering before him with pleasure, her breathing quickened as he deliberately began to tease the spot between her folds, it seemed to her that the whole room around her was spinning, her heart pounding like mad, she could feel the tension even in her lips.

"− you shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain − if I do not close these lips will you continue to blaspheme? −" He growled and leaned over her, startling her completely when his full, swollen, hot lips pressed against hers in a sticky, hot kiss. She moaned loudly and threw her arms around his neck, his tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his sigh of delight.

Her body began to tremble and shudder beneath him as his fingertips dug into her hot folds, squeezing them with increasingly confident motions, teasing her slit, sliding in a little only to slide out a moment later and start all over again, his fingers wet with her moisture.

"− I'm wasting so much of your precious nectar − I should lick it all off, shouldn't I? −" He breathed out into her mouth. She clenched her hands tightly in his hair at his words and just came on his fingers with a surprised moan of pleasure, tilting her head back, his lips pressed against her neck, placing greedy, hot, wet kisses on it. She cried out when she felt his middle finger slide into her hot core and stay like that, her walls clenching around it again and again.

He lifted himself up on his hand, looking down at her, sliding his finger out of her in a slow, careful motion with a shameless click of her moisture.

"− Blessed Ludovica Albertoni −" He whispered and lifted his fingers to his face, sliding them deep into his mouth; this sight was so perverted that she looked away, her body breathless at the memory of the sarcophagus on which the saint cruves in wonderful convulsions, her face and parted lips expressing the relief of fulfilment.

"− Bernini −" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he hummed under his breath, delighted that she knew what he was referring to.

"− exactly − you look magnificent −" He murmured and covered her thighs back with the material of her robe, rising slowly, looking with satisfaction at his masterpiece.

"Come in, Marco. She is ready."

_____

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