#the point of life is to exist one more day and push through until the time comes for you to die

[byuntrash101]

𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies. 

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck. 

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?” 

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning. 

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho. 

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others. 

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling! 

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it. 

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil. 

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process. 

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside. 

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

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a/n: leave a comment or even a cheeky lil reblog if you liked it <3

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[dcxdpdabbles]

Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Phantom's number 1 fan #Tim unleased a love story onto the beings of enterity #Danny is super confused #Somewhere John is freaking out about a possible war #Tim does not remember stopping at Danny's

[risuola]

AFTERCARE — GN. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Sukuna would never say out loud that he enjoys taking care of you but he cannot deny it before himself.

cw: suggestive, mostly Sukuna being confused with his own feelings, smut... happened, but is not described, Sukuna has his own body, reader discretion is advised — 1,1k words

a/n: this one is a part of my kinktober prototype that didn't make a cut into the final lineup, but I thought I'll share it anyway :3

Ryomen Sukuna was never a man of excessive affection. Things such as love and care made for the foreign concept for the majority of his existence and it’s no wonder why when his heart, that he was certain was frozen for the last millennium, discovered the warmth of your existence right next to him, he was confused, to say the least. Unable to fully comprehend the reason standing behind his will to stay by your side after getting his own release.

“It could’ve hurt more,” he mumbled, smoothing his fingers over the aching muscles of your shoulder. In his head, it sounded reassuring – he wasn’t intending to hurt you, but his sheer power over your human body always caused some damage and it honestly made him wonder why he would even agree to be with you. 

You were drained, completely exhausted, half-conscious and panting over his chest where your head rested. It was one of those nights that from the very beginning foreshadowed some violence. That day Sukuna got home possessed by burning fury. It wasn’t often, he usually was good at managing his anger, at least to the point of not causing any damage to you, but sometimes, on the days like this, he was too gone for any kind of self-control. To his defense, first he declined your suggestion to take this to the bed where you wanted to make sure he’s going to let the steam off. He pushed you away saying that he will hurt you if he fucks you in that state, but you insisted that he’s not going to harm you.

And of course, he did. After many long and rough hours of the ruthless, punishing pace of his thrusts, after every harsh slap and strong grip, after all of the bites, sucks and scratches, your body was aching. It gave up under the sheer pressure of his demonic stamina and strength, and by no means you ever considered yourself weak physically. You were not some fragile human, but in the grasp of the king of curses, you were not much more than a mere mortal.

That night, Sukuna fucked a hole through your soul, with ease turning your brain into a boiling flurry, pushing your edges further and further until they snapped like a rubber band that’s been stretched a little too much. It hurt, but at the same time, there was a pleasure impossible to describe with words. Your body never failed to react to Ryomen, almost sadistically seeking lust where others would see malice and even in the state of absolute distress, he’s instinctively forcing those mind-numbing gestures all over the act. He knew how to angle his hips to hit the right spots inside of you, he knew how to operate along the sensitive places all over your skin to drive you crazy. Even while in the middle of releasing his anger, he unknowingly cared for you.

That care always become more vibrant when everything’s done. When you fall over his strong, toned frame breathless and sore, his mind immediately switches into the aftercare mode, which got installed into his software forcefully, violating every rule of being a heartless monster.

“It could have hurt more,” he cooed softly, failing to recognize his own voice, but it was alright. He accepted it long time ago. Somehow, to pamper you after he nearly broke you to pieces added up in his head and the absolute pliability of your body in his hands, the control he had tickled his ego. For Sukuna, it felt like a duty, like an inseparable part of the whole act of sex. When you two first started hooking up, he felt incomplete leaving you in the bed after he sucked out all of your life energy.

“That’s reassuring, ‘kuna,” you croaked out, your voice bearing a little bit of rasp from all the sounds he forced out of your mouth, and all the length that you took down your throat.

“I warned you,” he sighed, pulling you even closer before wrapping his hands around you in a way that allowed him to scoop you up from the bed. “Let me clean you up and you’ll rest, how’s that sound?”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course I will,” he reassured, turning on the water, somehow keeping you up in his embrace with just one of his arms. The strength his form held was unmatched, really. “I live here, after all.” Sukuna added, matter-of-factly, but truth was it wasn’t as obvious as it sounded. Even though your apartment was now a permanently shared space with the curse, he had no muscle memory to lay down every night to sleep. He was still learning how to act like a human, after a thousand years of living as a curse.

“Then, it sounds perfect,” you smiled softly and exhaled deeper feeling the hot water hitting your aching muscles. Relaxation began filling your system, the knots all over your body began to untie themselves and you wondered sometimes, how much of that relief was caused by the warm shower and how much of it was due to strong, manly hands that kept you up. You knew his abilities to heal and also, you knew that often he was using them to repair some damages you took during fights or due to your clumsiness – usually though, he would act like he didn’t do anything, brushing any questions off because admitting to willingly helping a human, even the one he loves, was still a little too much for him to settle for. So, you learned to ask no questions, only sometimes feeling a little playful to tease him about it, but overall, you chose not to bring up the topic.

Although Sukuna would never say out loud that he enjoys taking care of you, he couldn’t deny it before himself. It felt new to him to carry you so delicately and yet he was feeling the little contented sparks lighting up in his mind when he did that. He found it prideful to know you put your life entirely in his hands, that even though he’s a curse, you trust him with yourself when you’re vulnerable.

Washed and dried, the king laid you back down onto the bed as the procedure of aftercare continued. He allowed you to cuddle to his warm body, skin in full contact to skin and only then you began to fully relax, breathing in his presence and feeling the love he would probably never word right inside your veins. His calloused fingertips were painting shapes over the delicate skin of your body as he listened to your steady breath and the softest purrs, barely hearable through the sound of your exhales. He slowly circled around every bruise and bitemark he’s left on you that he had now access to and as he brushed over them, he made sure to heal them just enough for you to not feel any pain.

Sukuna’s aftercare isn’t all vibrant and flashy. He’s not the one to jump around you with blankets and hot chocolate, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen x you #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen x y/n #ryomen sukuna x y/n

[parkerslatte]

Warm Me Up

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: light smut

Summary: While the Y/N and Eris are attending meetings on the continent, they are caught in a snow storm and stumble across a cabin. They need to spend the night as they are snowed in.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The storm showed no signs of stopping and even with Eris beside her, Y/N could still feel the cold creeping into her body. The fur cape draped over her shoulders didn’t even block out the cold. She couldn’t even feel her feet anymore. Beside her, Eris kept his head held high as he looked for any possible shelter, Y/N would help but if she even lifted her head from the confines of the fur cape, she was sure she would simply freeze to death. 

Once the storm had begun to pick up miles back, Eris had kept them contained within a ring of fire that prevented any snow from landing on them and kept them warm. However the more they walked, the more Eris began to tire until the ring of fire simply vanished from existence, leaving the two to face the cold alone. 

As Y/N walked, she could feel her legs get heavier and heavier, they gradually got harder to move. Y/N knew that Eris would be able to walk a lot faster than their current pace but he remained by her side, he slowed his pace when she did and quickened it when she did. Every single step they took was side by side. 

“There!” Eris suddenly exclaimed, voice shouting over the wind. “A cabin!”

Y/N looked in the direction of Eris’s pointed finger and relief filled her body. If she had to walk any further, she was sure her legs would give out and she would die being buried by snow. Both of them quickened their pace, or as much as they possibly could, and headed for the cabin. It might have been inhabited but Y/N didn’t particularly care. She would force her way in no matter who lived there. 

The cabin came closer and closer in view but was being blocked out by the storm. It was somehow getting worse and Y/N struggled to fight her way through the thick snow. Her heart hammered in her chest. I’m not going to make it, she thought.

“Y/N!” Eris shouted, his arm wrapping around her waist. “Don’t give up now, we’re nearly there!”

Eris helped her on the final stretch to the cabin. There were no lights on and the place seemed to be abandoned. Y/N felt Eris push her forward to open the door first before he followed just behind her, slamming the door and barring it in place. 

They both panted, trying to catch their breath. Y/N clutched onto the fur cape draped around her tightly. The cabin was void of any indication someone was living inside. There was a worn out couch in the corner of the room, sitting in front of a large fireplace. A bed was pushed against the opposite side of the room, there was a simple blanket and a pillow on it. Nothing comfortable, Y/N thought. There was a small kitchen area that seemed to hold the bare minimum although some of the pans were clearly rusted. The only other room in the cabin seemed to be a small bathroom just off from the bedroom filled with a sink, toilet and a bath. It could be worse.

“It’s a travellers cabin,” Eris explained as he caught his breath. “It’s free to use for anyone traversing the land.”

“It looks as if no one has used it in years,” Y/N commented.

Eris shrugged. “It’s most likely no one has. It is a few days until the next city.”

Y/N watched Eris’s gaze become focused on the fireplace and before she could stop him, he flicked his hand and a large fire roared to life. 

“Why would you do that?” Y/N exclaimed. “You needed to rest and save your energy.”

“You are cold,” Eris answered. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N replied. “Don’t do that again.”

“Why?” Eris cocked his head. “Would you rather we cuddle together for warmth?”

Y/N flushed. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Eris placed a hand against his chest. “I should be offended Y/N. Your High Lord offers to cuddle together and you decline? Many would kill you just to have this opportunity.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before walking over to the couch to sit in front of the fire. Of course when Eris originally asked her to attend a few meetings on the continent with him, she accepted. After all, Eris was her friend. But now as she sat shivering, even in front of a fire, she was beginning to regret that decision. 

“If the storm clears by the morning, we can leave at daybreak,” Eris said, taking a seat next to Y/N, his arms brushing against hers. 

“How much longer do you think it will take us to get to the next city?” Y/N asked, her gaze turning to focus on Eris. 

Snow still clung to his auburn hair and Y/N found herself reaching forward to brush it away. As soon as her hand came closer, Eris tensed but as she began to run her fingers through his hair, he relaxed, leaning closer to her. “Sorry,” she apologised, as if she just realised what she was doing. “You still had some snow in your hair.”

Y/N pulled her hand away and pulled out a map from inside her cloak, completely missing the disappointed expression on Eris’s face. 

“It will be another two days before we reach our destination,” Eris responded. “I am unsure if there are any other travellers cabins but there are caves to the west, we can take shelter in those if needed.”

Y/N snorted. “Eris Vanserra. Willingly taking shelter in a cave. I never thought I would see the day.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “I can make myself comfortable even in dire circumstances, my dear. IF a cave is the only shelter there is, I will happily make a home in it.” Eris paused as if thinking of his next words carefully. “I am surrounded by company I feel safe in, I am sure I would be able to sleep in the middle of a forest completely unarmed and still have my full eight hours uninterrupted.”

Y/N’s expression softened. “You feel safe around me?”

Eris’s eyes met Y/N’s. An emotion she had never seen before, swimming within the two pools of molten lava. From the moment Y/N had met Eris nearly seventy years ago, she had only ever seen the wall of fire within his eyes.The barrier he had put up to hide himself around any company that could possibly endanger anything he was protecting. When Y/N first met Eris, that wall of fire was the only thing she saw when she looked at him. Now, whenever Y/N looked into his eyes, she saw nothing of the sort. She only saw the loyalty, love and the passion that he had for his family and his court. 

Y/N leaned closer to him as Eris cleared his throat and stood up from the couch. “We should be getting to sleep soon. You can take the bed, I will sleep on the couch as soon as you move from it.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, you take the bed, Eris. With your long legs, you wont even fit on the couch. I’ll sleep here, it’s fine.”

Eris folded his arms across his chest. “I am not allowing you to sleep on the couch, Y/N. You were nearly freezing to death out there.”

Y/N rose to her feet and stared up at Eris. His perfectly shaped brows were pointed down in a frown as he stared at her. He said softly, “You take the bed, Y/N.”

Y/N broke eye contact with Eris and glanced at the bed on the other side of the room. It wasn’t too small but it wasn’t the largest bed in existence either. But it did have enough room to fit the two of them. 

“We could share it,” Y/N suggested, suddenly sheepish. “If neither of us want the other to sleep on the couch.”

Eris quickly glanced at the bed then back to Y/N. There seemed to be a small red tinge to his cheeks but Y/N couldn’t tell if it was a blush or just from the cold. 

“Only if you are comfortable with that, Y/N,” Eris replied. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N reached forward to gently squeeze his hand. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Eris.”

Eris offered her one of his rare smiles and pulled her gently over to the bed. Y/N felt her heart beating faster and faster the longer he held onto her hand. That one touch alone sent her senses into overdrive. Ever since she first met Eris, Y/N had always thought that he was beautiful. But as she got to know the real him, the harder she fell for him. Nearly fifty years she had been harbouring feelings for her friend, never brave enough to tell him. 

Eris sat down on the bed and unbuckled his boots as he slowly undressed, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Y/N’s eyes bulged out of her head for two reasons. The first being that she was staring at his bare muscular body. And the second reason being that it was freezing and Eris was standing there like the cold didn’t bother him in the slightest. 

Eris turned around and noticed Y/N’s expression, his signature smirk plastered across his face. “Do you like what you see, Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes dropped down to his bare chest, then torso, then…lower, before reaching his eyes again. “Are you not cold?”

Eris shook his head. “I only feel a slight chill, nothing I can’t handle.”

The only items of clothing Y/N took off were her boots at cloak, though she was visibly shaking from how cold it was. Without another word, both Y/N and Eris laid down on the bed, only a couple of inches between their bodies. The heat radiating from Eris warmed Y/N but not too much she was still shivering. 

Y/N closed her eyes and shuffled on the bed to try and get comfortable but it was barely any use, she was wearing too many layers. With a huff, Y/N opened her eyes and she let out a quiet gasp at how close her face was to Eris. In her desire to simply lay down and get warm, Y/N failed to notice the singular pillow occupying the bed. The pillow both her head and Eris’s rested on. 

Y/N’s gasp made Eris open his eyes and he too let out a small sound of surprise. From up close, Y/N could see the small faint freckles that littered his cheeks and nose. She could also notice the many different shades that made up his eye colour. It wasn’t just one colour like she had originally thought, it was many different shades working and mixing together to create, in Y/N’s opinion, the most beautiful colour she had ever seen. 

Neither of the two moved away as they looked into each other's eyes, heads resting on the same pillow. Y/N’s whole body was cold yet she felt like Eris’s gaze alone had set her alight. She knew that she shouldn’t be having feelings for her best friend but the way he looked at her, sent her body into overdrive. 

“You’re shivering,” Eris commented. 

“I’m cold,” Y/N responded, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Do you trust me?” Eris questioned.

“With my life,” Y/N said with absolute certainty. 

There was a brief look of longing in Eris’s eyes before he lifted his head from the pillow. A disappointed feeling washed over Y/N. 

“Take off your clothes,” Eris said. “It sounds strange, but trust me.”

“Your idea to warm me up is by stripping layers?” Y/N chuckled but complied. 

As she shrugged off her thick jacket, Eris’s eyes didn’t leave hers and she flushed. The intensity sent a flock of butterflies free in her stomach. With each layer she stripped, the colder she got, yet the feeling of Eris’s eyes on her somehow made it all worth it. The whole time he never broke eye contact. 

Her final layer was just a shirt and as she slowly stripped it off, Y/N caught Eris’s eye drop from her eyes to gaze upon her body before snapping back to her face. 

Y/N shivered as a particularly strong gust travelled through the cabin. “What now? If this was all just a plot to get me naked, Eris. I swear to the–”

Eric cut her off with a chuckle. “It wasn’t, although I like what I am seeing.” This time as his gaze dipped, he didn’t try to hide it. Y/N swore she could feel a heated path where Eris’s gaze drifted. 

“Come here,” Eris said and Y/N complied, getting back into the bed and under the thin blanket. 

Before Y/N had the chance to complain about the cold, Eris pulled close until his chest was pressed firmly against her back. The bare skin to skin contact was enough to send Y/N’s body into overdrive. Eris’ s strong arms wrapped around her middle and his legs tangled with hers. Y/N stared wide eyed at the wall in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N questioned. 

Eris didn’t respond but Y/N suddenly felt her body get warmer and she sighed and relaxed into Eris’s arms. “How are you doing that?”

“I can share my body heat,” Eris explained. “It only works with skin to skin contact.”

The warmth Y/N felt was unlike no other. Whilst the fire in the corner of the room had warmed her to a degree, making her hands and feet tingle back to life, the warmth she felt wrapped within Eris’s arms made her entire being warm. It was more than just skin deep, it encased her lungs, her heart, her brain, everywhere where Eris touched. 

“How did I not know you could do this?” Y/N questioned.

“Well, you and I have never been in this position before,” Eris teased. 

Y/N sighed, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Were you that desperate to get your hand on me?” 

The cabin was silent as Y/N anticipated his reply. Of course she was only expecting his usual witty flirtatious remark that meant nothing. But what Eris said sent her spiralling. 

“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for a long time, Y/N.”

There was no joking tone within his voice, nor was it flirtatious. It was genuine and sincere. Y/N froze as Eris’s arms tightened around her body. 

“You cannot mean that, Eris.”

“Of course I mean it,” Eris muttered, his voice low and his breath brushed her ear.

Eris’s fingers traced slow teasing circles on the bare skin of Y/N’s upper thigh. It sent shivers down her spine and made her heart beat rapidly. With a tilt of her head, their eyes locked. Eris’s eyes were intense as his fingertips gripped her plush thigh tightly causing Y/N to gasp. A magnetic force drew them together as Y/N began to lean forward. Never would she expect that Eris would want her the way she wanted him, and now it was happening and Y/N could hardly believe it. The air was thick with anticipation and Eris’s signature smirk toyed at the corners of his lips. 

“You really mean that,” Y/N whispered, though this time it was more of a statement than a question. 

Eris's answer came when he lowered his lips to hers in a searing kiss. It was everything Y/N had always imagined. His kiss sent her nerves on fire as Eris manoeuvred himself so he hovered above Y/N on the bed. Y/N’s fingers tangled in Eris’s tousled hair and pulled him closer, not wanting there to be an inch between their bodies. His hands explored the curves of her body, finally allowing the desire building within him to tip over the edge. 

Eris deepened the kiss as his tongue teased the seam of Y/N’s lips. To tease him, Y/N denied his entry. Eris only smirked against her lips as his hand trailed to her legs before harshly parting them and slotting himself between them. Y/N gasped, allowing for Eris’s tongue to dart within. His tongue explored her mouth with an intensity that left them both breathless. 

“I have waited so long to do this,” Eris mumbled against her lips. 

“Then why did it take you so long?” 

“I was not sure how you felt about me,” he admitted, trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck.

Y/N closed her eyes and gripped onto him tighter. “And how are you so sure now?”

Eris’s hips moved against hers the smallest amount and caused a soft moan to slip past Y/N’s lips. “That’s why.”

As soon as Eris’s lips connected with Y/N’s once more, she wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing Eris to rest his weight on top of her. There was not a single point where their bodies weren’t connected. 

“You are beautiful,” Eris said, with complete sincerity in his eyes. 

“And so are you,” Y/N responded.

Eris scoffed playfully. “I know I am. I just wanted to tell you because I assume you don’t hear it often.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to kick you outside in the cold snow storm?”

Eris laughed before all the humour washed from his face. “But you truly are beautiful, Y/N. I don’t tell you that enough.”

Y/N smiled. “Then show me how beautiful I am.”

“That I can do, my love,” Eris replied.

Their bodies moved rhythmically as they explored one another, limbs entangled in a passionate embrace. As Eris’s mouth found its place on her neck once more, Y/N’s back arched, wanting to be closer to him. She was sure she had never felt so much desire for one person before, and she didn’t want to feel this way with anyone else. Y/N only wanted Eris. 

Y/N rolled her hips to meet Eris and she could feel his hardened length press against her. A guttural moan slipped past his lips and all Y/N wanted to do was elicit that sound from him again. So she did. With each roll of her hips, Eris moaned into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily. 

“Please slow down,” Eris whispered into her ear.

“Why?” Y/N challenged. “You’re going to finish so soon?”

“No,” Eris replied, nipping at her ear before he pulled back and looked deep in her eyes. There was hunger within them that Y/N had never seen before. “Because the first time I fuck you, it wont be on a dusty bed in a mouldy cabin.”

Y/N couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past her lips. Eris smirked and pressed his lips against hers once more and Y/N fully melted into him, completely lost within him. And Y/N didn’t care if she ever found her way back. 

The need for Eris to touch her was strong but what was stronger was his promise. He wouldn’t until they were in a bedroom somewhere to fit his high standards. Which meant nothing short of a palace with large balcony doors overlooking the landscape. Y/N could only imagine it. Her and Eris lazily waking in the bed before she opened her legs and his mouth would attach to her, eliciting all sorts of sweet noises from her. Of course Y/N would shortly return the favour and then–

“Y/N,” Eris’s voice interrupted her and she hadn't even noticed that Eris had stopped kissing her. 

“Huh?” 

The smile on Eris’s face was one she wished to see every single morning and every single night and every hour between. “I asked where you went.”

“I was just wondering how you would fuck me in a large palace with balcony doors that overlook a large waterfall,” Y/N responded, wrapping her arms around Eris’s neck. 

“Is that what you want?” Eris asked.

“It wouldn't be the worst view in the world,” said Y/N.

“Consider it done,” Eris said, pressing a tender kiss to her lips before changing position so his back now laid back down on the bed, Y/N’s head buried in the crook of his neck. 

Y/N hummed in delight as she breathed in his scent. “You have no idea how long I have wanted you.”

“How long?” Eris asked, his fingers tangling within the ends of her hair. 

“Nearly fifty years,” Y/N admitted. 

“I have you beaten,” Eris responded. “I’ve wanted you for seventy years. The moment I met you, I knew I wanted you– needed you.”

Y/N smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Now you have me.”

“And I will worship you the way you deserve,” Eris responded, pulling Y/N tiger in his arms, his hand resting on the back of her head. “For the rest of my life.”

“And I will worship you, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N responded. “The way you deserve and the way you have deserved for so many years.”

A soft smile spread across Eris’s features. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, allowing his lips to linger there. “We should sleep. Because the sooner we arrive at the next city, the sooner I can ravish you the way I want to now.”

Despite her warmth, Y/N shivered. “Let’s not speak about that now, because if we do any longer then I will climb on top of you right now and have my way with you.”

Eris only chuckled in response and lightly scratched Y/N’s scalp causing her to sigh in delight. “I do love you, Y/N. I always have.” There was a hint of vulnerability to his tone that Y/N had never heard before. “I wish I would have told you sooner but I didn’t want to put you in any danger. What my father would do to you if he found out I loved you? That would break me.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, gently caressing his cheek. “That bastard is dead. You don’t need to worry about what he would have done to me, because nothing did happen. Now you can show me all the love you want and I can show you too. Because we have fifty years of time to catch up on.”

Eris smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, caressing her face. Y/N smiled at him before resting her head on his chest as he held her close to him. Y/N drifted to sleep whilst listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. A heart she knew beat for her, just as hers beat for him.

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris #vanserra #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

[roosterr]

firewatch | 01

john price x gn!reader

wc; 2.7k

summary; a firewatch tower in the heart of a state park is as far away from your trainwreck life as you can get. the company of the man in your radio is just a bonus.

(if you saw this the first time i posted it no you didn't) my entry for the o captain challenge hosted by the lovely @glitterypirateduck, using prompt 61; first day at a new job! this au lives in my brain now please enjoy!

the air is crisp here. bright orange sunsets, dry summer heat, the gentle sound of birdsong and the wind through the trees – it was all a welcome change of pace, and with the added bonus of being nothing like your home in the city, but isn't that exactly why you’re here? the solitude, a blank slate, and some much needed peace and fucking quiet.

a branch snags your leg as you step through the underbrush, but the sting it leaves behind is little more than an afterthought. your backpack hasn't changed you left, but it feels heavier somehow as you jerk it higher on your shoulders. tiredness hangs from your limbs and makes it a struggle to push forward, but the lookout is in view now, and with night closing in fast, you want to get there sooner rather than later.

the wind is louder all the way up here – and it has a chill to it now, that nips at you through your airy clothes – but as you make it up the first few steps, the wood creaking under your weight, the view over the forest fills you with a melancholy sense of awe that tightens in your chest. it's beautiful. if only you could've had a better reason to see it.

the rest of the stairs are a breeze compared to the trail you've been following all day. the sun has only just dipped below the horizon, bathing the landscape in an indigo wash and shrouding the trees in cool shadows. 

with the last of your energy, and one final glance over the steadily darkening view, you push open the door and step over the threshold. it's completely dark inside once you close the door, with the shutters closed over the windows, but there's a wonderful calmness to it that almost soothes the ache in your muscles. 

you feel blindly for the generator switch, as you'd been told to, following the red glow until it's under your fingers and you can press the button. the bulb overhead flickers to life, and the small room you'll call home for the next few months is bathed in a dim yellow light.

you blink as your eyes adjust, and take in your surroundings. central in the room is an osborne fire finder – which you, of course, knew existed before you impulsively applied for this job – and a small but effective kitchen along one wall. there's also a log burner nestled into one corner, and a desk beside the door stacked with cardboard boxes labelled 'tower 7 supplies'. 

your gaze finally lands on the bed in the far corner, and a sigh of relief passes your lips at the sight of the comforter folded on top. perhaps it had seen better days, but you had reached the point where you simply didn't care anymore. you slip your backpack from your shoulders and drop it in the general direction of the desk chair, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor in favour of smoothing out the bedding.

your fingers barely get to brush the fabric before you're interrupted.

"evenin', tower seven." from a worn yellow radio, partially hidden between two boxes, comes a voice that cuts through the otherwise silent room. his words are distorted slightly by the static, but you can still make out the deep gravel of his tone.

for a moment, you can only blink at the object, hands still hovering over the comforter as your tired mind catches up. you drag your feet back over to the desk with a muted sigh, kicking your backpack in the process and nearly stumbling over yourself, but you manage to grab the radio and stay upright.

"uh… hello? whoever this is?" you reply, the obvious uncertainty in your voice making you cringe as you hear it.

the stranger on the other end shares none of your hesitation, responding within a second of you finishing your sentence. "john price. i’m in tower six, east of you." 

you make a noise of recognition, nodding even though he has no way of seeing it, "right, the guy mentioned you on the phone." 

"saw your light on, thought i'd say hello." john says, with a lot more energy than you can muster right now. it would've been a welcome distraction any other time, but right now you just want him to stop talking so you can finally sleep.

"good to meet you, neighbour. i'm…" you stifle a yawn, and open and shut your mouth a few times trying to decide what to say next. "…i'm gonna go to bed. no offence"

you hear him scoff through the interference, "not even gonna introduce yourself?"

"you already know who i am, don't you?" you grumble, your eyes locking wistfully onto the mattress that awaits you as you try to hold back another yawn. "listen, if i don't go to sleep in the next thirty seconds, i'll probably die."

there's a pause before he responds again with a chuckle. "alright, i won't keep ya, we'll talk tomorrow."

you don't bother answering, and instead just slot the radio clumsily back into its station. you flip the lightswitch, plunging the room back into darkness, and shuffle slowly back over to your bed. you tug your boots off, and you're out as soon as your head hits the pillow.

when you wake up, the sun is already low in the sky, casting long shadows over the park below that don't quite reach your tower yet. your muscles burn and ache like you knew they would, but there's also a relief that comes with knowing you have no obligations to tend to – apart from your duties as a fire lookout of course, but that was trivial compared to what you left behind.

the air is still warm outside, the breeze that passes by your tower cooling to a pleasant degree as you pause on the balcony. you're not sure you like the way the wood creaks as you slowly make your way around, and opening the shutters took a lot more arm strength than you were expecting, but it was more than worth it for the view you got from your desk.

the journal you reluctantly bought at the advice of your therapist sits open in front of you, your pen twirled absently between your fingers as you gaze out at the horizon instead of the blank page before you. wasn't writing out your feelings supposed to make them easier to deal with? then why was it so difficult to come up with a single word to put down?

with a frustrated huff passing your lips, you drop your pen onto the desk and your head into your hands. when your therapist had suggested keeping a diary as a part of your healing journey, you really didn't think it would be this difficult. you've been sitting here for twenty minutes, and all you've managed is the date.

"mornin'," your lamenting is interrupted by john's voice through the radio again. you're almost surprised that he actually wants to talk to you, but then again, there aren't that many people out here to talk with anyway. "i can see you at your desk, so i'll assume you got to sleep on time and didn't die last night."

your lips quirk into a smile as you reach for your radio, flipping your journal shut and shoving it to the back of the desk.

"uh, yeah, sorry. guess i overslept." you reply, somewhat sheepishly. you didn't even bother setting the alarm clock on your nightstand before you passed out – in fact, you didn't even plug it in, but you're honestly not sure if it would've made a difference. "what time is it, like, six?"

"quarter to seven."

you squeeze your eyes shut and cringe to yourself. "...oh."

john chuckles, a deep rumble that slightly eases the embarrassment of passing out for most of the day. "s'alright, that hike knocks everyone out for a day or two."

there's a comfortable lull in the conversation, and you take the opportunity to look over the fire finder, scanning the area east of your tower in an attempt to pinpoint exactly where john's is. you find the annotation for tower six easily and turn to gaze at it through your east window, the silhouette of it clear against the early evening sky.

you wonder if he's doing the same thing, or if he even talks to any of the other towers. you don't have any neighbours besides him, the interviewer had mentioned that to you, but you know john does. he seems eager to talk to you, the same as last night, so either way you suppose he's just happy to have a fresh face to talk to.

it's not long before the quiet is cut short by john's voice crackling through the radio again. "what’s your story then? must be a good one to have you all the way out here."

you make an indignant face at his question, as if he can see it. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"c’mon love," the nickname should feel odd, he's only one step above a stranger to you, but it flows so naturally off his tongue that you barely even question it. "there’s only one reason anyone takes this job, and that’s to get away– from something, someone, somewhere, all of the above,"

"all of the above, let's just leave it at that." you mumble, brow furrowing. your eyes dart back to the journal laying untouched in the shadow under the window.

"relationship troubles?" he asks. the question itself is innocent enough, but the lingering thought only causes your frown to deepen. "that's why most people come out here."

"yeah, something like that…" you mutter in reply. a sigh escapes you as you drop yourself back into your chair, picking up the stray pinecone on your desk with your free hand. "anyway, enough about me, it's your turn smartass."

you hear john huff, something like a laugh, and the sound lightens your own  expression. "is it now?"

"you said it yourself, only reason people ever take this job is to get away from something." your lips quirk up at the corner now the tables have turned, and you distractedly roll the pinecone back and forth on your palm. "so what are you running from?"

"don’t pull your punches, eh?" he hums, his tone flat. 

"just following your lead, price." there's a long pause as you wait for his response, the smile slowly falling from your lips with every second that passes is silence. "you don't have to tell me, y'know."

"no, no, it's–" he cuts himself short, clearing his throat in an undeniably uncomfortable manner, "i lost someone, a good friend, few years ago now."

your jaw falls open, the pinecone dropping from your hand as you freeze in shock. you try to find the words to comfort, but they get stuck in your chest and all you can muster is a solemn; "i… i'm so sorry…"

"don't be." he replies, quieter than before, in a way that makes your brows pull together. "was my fault."

another long silence, but this time a small guilt forms in your mind. if it was enough to drive him out here, it must be a memory worth forgetting, and you can't help but feel bad for bringing it up – despite the fact that you couldn't have known. still, he sounded so defeated, and you don't actually know him more than the two conversations you've had with him, but he didn't sound like himself at all. you make a mental note to stay away from the topic.

"so, uhm," you stumble over breaking the silence, dropping your head into your palm as the shame creeps up your spine. you need to change the subject, you don't want to leave it on that upsetting note, so you pick the most obvious small talk question you can think of. "what did you used to do, before this?"

"i was in the sas, for about twenty years." john answers, thankfully, still with a distant sound to his voice. you'd half expected him to be done with you after that bombshell, but it seems you didn't completely scare him off.

"oh, no shit!" you reply, your surprise this time a lot more lighthearted. "that's way better than what i used to do…"

john breathes a chuckle, and you smile to yourself in triumph. "highly doubt that, love."

you respond with a good-natured scoff and roll your eyes. "seriously? there's no world where an office job is cooler than the fucking sas."

"i think you'd be surprised." the sound of a door opening and shutting is faintly heard in the background as he speaks, and then the unmistakable creak of the floorboards under him. "it's hard work, y'know."

"c'mon, you got to see the world! all i ever got to see was the inside of a meeting room. for several unnecessary hours at a time." your smile morphs into a grimace at the memory of your old job – you were more than grateful that part of your life was over now.

"i'd've killed for that amount of down time a few years ago," he muses, something nostalgic in his voice as he continues, "never had a moment's peace in the service."

you told your head and hum thoughtfully. "yeah, i guess i never thought about it like that. but don't you find it a little… slow out here?"

"'course i do, but sometimes that's exactly what you need. never'a guessed i'd enjoy bein' bored outta my mind, but here we are, eh?"

"you're probably right." you release a deep breath, your eyes finding the red clouds of the horizon and following the last rays of sunlight to the treetops below. "always wanted to be someone who had things happen in their life, but as soon as things started actually happening to me, all i wanna do is go back to how things were."

you feel the hesitation before he speaks again. "this about your all of the above?"

"yeah..." you sigh, bringing your free hand up to smooth over the crease between your brows. "so maybe being bored outta my mind is what i need."

"you'll get used to it. might even start to like it– i did."

"here's hoping." you try not to dampen the mood, but you can only manage a quiet mutter in return. your stare follows the dark forms of a couple of birds against the indigo sky, and you find yourself wishing for that kind of freedom. you have to shake your head to bring yourself back to the present. "but anyway, i won't be completely losing my mind. i have you to bother, don't i?"

"right back at ya, rookie."

you snort. "rookie? seriously? thought you quit all that military shit."

"old habits die hard." he replies, the smile he's undoubtedly wearing evident even through the radio. "supposed to be a cold one tonight, might wanna stock up on firewood."

"i'll take your word for it, i saw some by the shed yesterday." you stand from your desk and stretc your back with your arms above your head. by now, only the very last of the sun's rays still light the sky, and when you step outside the air has already gotten noticeably cooler.

"think i'll sign off for the night, then." his words draw your eyes over to the barely visible shadow of tower six against the dark blue of the night. "if you ever need anything, just gimme a shout, yeah?" he sounds more serious now, leaving no room for doubt that he's genuine, and after a second he adds in a murmur, "even if it's just for a chat.".

"i will. talking with you is nice." you smile to yourself, soft and more heartfelt than you've managed in a long while. "plus, i'll get pretty lonely out here if i ignore my only neighbour."

he chuckles again. "can't argue with that. g'night, rookie."

"night, john." you return, slipping the radio into your pocket. you'd woken up this morning – evening, actually – with a deep uncertainty weighing on your mind; for this job, what drove you here, what will happen after. for now, though, you find it easy to ignore that doubt and focus on where you are now. you came here to escape, and you'll be damned if you let what happened haunt you here, too.

before you descend the stairs, you give one last glance over your shoulder at the distant lights in john's tower, and thank god that this job listing found you when it did.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #141 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #call of duty x reader #price x reader #john price #captain john price #roosterr writes

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #eris fluff #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vandaddy #cassian #nesta #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar oneshot #acotar drabble #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar modern au

[silverzoomies]

Summer Wind

tate langdon x reader smut

warnings: existential crisis, death, afterlife, implied/referenced character death, murder, angst, aged-up tate langdon, fingering, fingerfucking, kissing, canon divergence

word count: 4,690

a/n: another drabble. y'know that thing people do sometimes? where they "age-up" a character, but don't really age them up? i initially wrote this in response to that. but it somehow turned into a means of venting my existential terror instead. i was gonna include more smut. but tbh i didn't feel right about it. this one's gonna stay unfinished. sorry about the abrupt ending !!

inspired by the song summer wind by frank sinatra

You were dead for an indiscernible span of time.

You couldn't be sure how long. But you suspected a few years, at least. Through one of the top floor windows of your eternal purgatory; you watched the trees. Nature alternated between skeletal displays of branches, to vibrant arrays of color. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming. Withered. Blooming again. Rinse and repeat.

Once you accepted your fate, things started clicking into place. Trapped in a vintage hotbox of murder, you put together the pieces of a long lost puzzle. And though some parts were still absent, you pushed yourself to move on. You might never figure out how you died, or who you were before. But to worry so much would be senseless at this point.

Through acceptance, you began to feel again. If only in small bursts. Abrupt, but worth cherishing.

One memory remained ever present. You had the sense you were a school guidance counselor in life. And in death, you took up the mantle again. Offering your services to the other souls lost in the house. One of the ghostly residents shared a similar occupation. Way back in his breathing years. He didn’t do it so much anymore. Instead, he spent time with his family, working towards redemption for his past actions.

You steered clear of most residents, fearful of their unpredictable episodes of bloodlust. They allowed the evil within the house to lure them further into madness. On the days they came to you for your services, you spoke to them in hopes they’d find absolution. Change in the afterlife was extremely difficult to achieve. Your 'clients' rarely ever scratched the surface of their tainted psyches. And any progress they made, they always resorted to their old habits in the end.

Only one of them ever found true change. Of course, he had to be the most wretched of them all.

You once felt sympathy for Tate, making excuses on his behalf. In the years when his heart still pumped blood through his veins; he was young. Misguided. Perhaps the pressures of his upbringing took too much of a toll on him. And in the afterlife, he suffered under the influence of the house itself. The evil buried deep within channeled through his broken soul.

But if such an evil did exist, it never took hold of you. Nor did it sink its venomous teeth into Violet, or her innocent mother, or that pure of heart baby, or even Ben Harmon himself - sinful a man as he was. They resisted, and so did you.

Tate was pure evil. Carnage incarnate. Maybe that made him susceptible to the influence of dark forces. But after talking with him for a few years, you accepted him for what he was. Foul from birth, deplorable in death. No matter how often you tried guiding him to goodness, he remained forever loathsome. The evil in him burned eternally, needing no kindling.

His own acceptance of that fact allowed him to change. In a more physical way, much like Moira. Tate embraced his fate, convinced the house was where he belonged. A punishment until the end of all things. Simultaneously, a safe haven from whatever lay in waiting after purgatory. Tate’s progress was very much real. Albeit, not the kind you aimed for.

You could see his growth in his features, rather than his morals. Sitting across from you during another weekly session, Tate fidgeted with a frayed hole in his jeans. With his blond brows creased, he stared down at the denim. As you watched him like this, you picked apart his finer details. Where his skin once beamed with the pale, ghostly image of youth; creases were now etched in. Faint, but noticeable lines curved under his eyes.

An aura of maturity emanated from him like a light much too dim. Tate carried the same mannerisms from his heyday - if one could even call it that. But he had long since graduated from his mentality of that era. Tate spoke of his past actions as if he regretted them, though you suspected he felt no real remorse. He used to cry all the time. He used to throw childish tantrums. But you couldn’t remember the last time you saw his soulless, black eyes water. Now…

He carried nothing but cold desolation. Common amongst those trapped in perpetual limbo.

“I saw her again today.” He admitted, his lidded eyes flitting up to meet yours, “She hasn’t changed any. Not like me. Not like…” Tate made a gesture at his face, his thumb grazing the angular shape of his jaw. Tiredly, he blinked, “Not like this. Fate’s a funny thing, isn’t it? I always thought we were fated to be together forever, but…”

On the sofa across from him, you kept your cheek perched in a hand. As you scribbled in your notebook, you took note of the way Tate’s features bled misery. All at the mention of her. It must have been painful for him, watching her stay the same. While he finally outgrew himself. Those changes only further separated the two of them. Obliterating any chance he had to make amends. If there ever was.

There especially wouldn’t be now. Even Tate was on the tailend of coming to terms with it.

“How’d it make you feel this time around?” You pressed in a soft tone, shifting on the couch. His dark hues zeroed in on your thighs, bare in a simple dress. The lining appeared cheap, glittering with sequins reminiscent of childhood nostalgia, “When you saw her?”

“Fuckin’...I dunno…” Tate put his face in his vascular hands, fingers curling into his hair, “She’s like a kid to me anymore. What am I supposed to think?”

“Maybe she’s content like that. In the same way you’re content the way you are now.” You shrugged, tenderly laughing, “Maybe teenage angst suits her that much.”

He shook his head, shifting from a criss cross position on the loveseat across from you. Bouncing a leg, Tate gave you a pointed look. His brows turned downward.

“We thought it fit me too, didn’t we? But look at me now."

You were. You were looking at him a lot. And he wasn't wrong. Teenage angst once paired well with Tate's immature nature. Back when he thought like a kid, and acted on impulse. These days, he'd become more lethargic. When he wasn’t consumed with blood lust. Rugged virility was his partner now. Coupled with the melancholy existentialism of a man pushing thirty.

“You wanted to move on.” You clarified, your teeth clicking the edge of a pen at your lips.

“Did I?” Tate bitterly laughed, the empty vacuums of his eyes caught your tongue in motion, “Doesn't seem like anyone else here wants to. ‘Cept Moira.”

“Well, they only think they can’t. They believe they’re tethered here, frozen in time at their moment of death. I used to think growth was impossible too. Until you…”

You took in his masculine features again. The scruff around his chin. So fair, and not too noticeable. Catching yourself in the midst of ogling him, you redirected your gaze to Tate’s eyes. Imposing. Starless. Easy to get lost in. He wasn’t ignorant to your attraction. A hint of grin pulled into his laugh lines and dimples.

“Does it scare you?” He asked, “What’s your excuse then?” Tate threw a condescending nod of his head, “If you’re so enlightened. If you know better than all of us - with your morals ‘n bullshit like that. Why haven’t you changed any since you died?"

Shrugging, you looked bashfully down at your notes.

“Why would I want to? If I can stay young for eternity. If I can keep these curves, and what’s left of my youth. What’s the point in growing older?” You admitted in truth.

“That’s a little superficial though, isn’t it?” Tate leaned back into the loveseat cushions, “Shit like that doesn’t matter here. Who are you tryna impress? And what’s anybody living gonna think? When they meet you, and find out you’re nothin’ but food for maggots now.” He teased, legs spread, one knee bouncing, “There’s gotta be another reason you haven’t moved on. You’re not like us. I dunno why you and the Harmons don’t just…y’know…go.” He trailed off, his gaze falling to his lap.

You saw his bitterness return in full force. Another miserable wave of longing washed over him. Yearning for something that didn’t exist anymore, and never would again.

“I…” You paused, doodling hasty flowers in your notebook. You avoided Tate’s eyes, “I wanna know how I died first. I wanna know who I was. Before I even consider moving on.”

Sinister acidity flashed through his vision, “Seriously? That’s what’s stopping you?” Tate huffed a harsh laugh, admitting without missing a beat, “You wanna know how you died? I’ll tell you. I stuck a knife in your back and stabbed you to death.” He confessed, monotone, “You know it too. You’ve known since we met. You’ve just been in denial this whole time.”

You sat up in an abrupt movement, scooting forward and tossing your notebook away.

“What?! What are you even talking ab-…I’ve been trying to figure this out for years, Tate! Years!” You threw out your hands, “You…you can’t be serious! Why would I be in denial about something like that??”

Tears of betrayal stung the corners of your eyes. Tate shrugged, seemingly unbothered. He crossed his arms, his eyes dark under the ridges of his brows.

“‘Cuz you feel bad for me. Or…uhm…you wanna feel bad for me.” He shrugged again, “Fuck if I know why. I’m the last guy you should have sympathy for.” Tate said, his black hues narrowing in thought.

“You didn’t…did you really stab me? Really? You’re not lying about that?” You almost shouted, clawing your fingers through your hair, “Please. Please tell me you’re lying!”

Tate appeared unfazed, ignoring you, “Do you love me or something? Is that why you’re so broken up about this?” He asked, desperate in his infinite search for validation.

“Why the fuck would you stab me?!” You shouted, full of wrathful turmoil.

You stood off the couch, surging toward him with your fists balled at your sides. Tate didn’t flinch. He pursed his lips, thoughtful again. With an insufferable aura of nonchalance, he shrugged once more.

“Wanted to.”

The blank emptiness in his expression told you everything you already knew. Tears streamed down your face, painting your cheeks and chin in damp threads.

“Where? Where did you stab me??”

Tate gestured with a nod of his head, towards the only window in the room. A summer breeze fluttered, catching the curtains in its dance. You wanted to find the radiant light of nature beautiful again. But it only served as a haunting reminder - the environment remained symbiotic with time. And you were forever left behind.

“Over there. By that window.” He said, watching you pad over to said window, the skirt of your dress fluttering.

The window. In the one room you always felt so drawn to, for reasons unknown. Now, you knew. Bracing your hands on the windowsill, you peered your head outside. Ghosting your skin, the air breathed an essence of life. Something you were no longer a part of. You used to be content with that fact. But now? Knowing your life was unfairly ripped from you, how could you ever move on? Your death wasn’t an accident. Nor had an irreversible illness seized your physical form. Just Tate.

His low voice droned from behind you and in your ear. A faint vibration followed, along with a presence at your back. You felt the soft texture of his sweater, but no body heat with it. One of his icy hands met your shoulder. He reached his other arm out. Tate pointed to a spot near the entrance gates.

“I didn’t wanna tell you. Because I didn’t wanna lose you too. But…” He paused for a beat, “It was on Halloween. Ten years or so years ago, I guess. I was gonna leave. Make my rounds. Y’know…like I used to. The house was-uh...up for grabs back then. You came up to the door. One of the kids here opened it for you. And you kinda...walked in. Tried lookin' for 'em. Wrong place, wrong time.” Tate lowered both his hands to yours, after sliding his fingers down the sides of your arms, “You were holdin’ hands with some kid the whole time. He had to be, like…seven? Eight? I don’t even remember what his costume was.” His lips curved in a grin, “But I still remember yours.”

Your fingers curled into the sill, scraping wood, indenting the paint.

Ten years.

“So, you stabbed me in front of a child?”

Another breeze blew by. The steady air picked up your dress with it, flitting delicate fabric. Glitter along the seams of it fell away, sparkling like microscopic crystallites in the wind. Tate’s long fingers drew patterns over the cold surface of your skin. Tracing infinity symbols onto your hands.

“Rapunzel.” He whispered, “That dress was kinda pretty on you. Sucks about all the blood.”

You remembered then. When death imbued you with unexpected consciousness, you wandered around the house in a blood-stained dress. And ever since, your afterlife wardrobe alternated only between dresses of similar styles. Always cheap fabrics. Decorated in craft materials. You assumed you must’ve loved playing dress up in life. The thought of perishing in a store bought Halloween costume never crossed your mind.

“Who was he?”

You sniffled, breath hitching without any need for oxygen. Tate brought a hand to your cheek, wiping away your tears. He loomed behind you. A cold-blooded apparition of your nightmares. His casual talk of violent depravity made your blood boil.

“Who, the kid?” He asked.

He lowered his hands to the sill. Looking out the window over your shoulder, Tate squinted in the sunlight.

“Yes! I don’t-” You burst into tears without warning, sobbing into your hands, “I-I don’t remember anything! Nothing! I had no idea…who was he??”

“Dunno…” he dropped his head, pressing his cheek to your hair, “I didn’t really stop to ask. He ran away. Right after I pushed you out of this window.”

“You pushed m-what?! You’re a fucking monster.” You whimpered. Wishing you could leap out and disappear with the oscillation of the wind, “You know you’re never getting out of here, don’t you? You’re never going to change, Tate. You’ll always be a monster.”

“Probably.” He droned, wrapping his arms around your middle. Pulling you closer, he added, “You’ll be stuck here too. If you don’t let go of that anger. If you let your rage consume you. All that bitterness and hatred. This house feeds off of it.” Another pause. He nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, “Uhm…I know this won’t fix anything. But…I really am sorry I took your life from you.”

You huffed, staring teary eyed out the window. Taking in the vast, effervescent world you’d never be a part of - through the border that brought your demise.

“But I’m really stoked you’re here….’cuz it’s not as lonely with you around.” He admitted.

“I could always tell you to fuck off.” You choked, venomous in your revulsion.

“Yeah. You could. But you won’t.” He grabbed your arms with gentle hands, wheeling you around to face him. He took your tiny fingers in his palms. You refused to meet his eyes, “If you made me disappear, you wouldn’t have anybody.”

You decided to hit him where it hurt, strangling through tears, “I could always talk to Violet. She has such a good heart. Not like the rest of you. You’re all just…awful. So horrible and cruel!”

Tate clenched his jaw, dropping his forehead into yours.

“You’re right. She’s not.” He woefully mumbled, “How come I still miss her, huh? Been missin’ what we had for, like…forever. Now I’m pushin’ you away too. And you’re all I have left.”

“Maybe stop killing people, Tate?” You snuffed, tears catching your eyelashes. He wiped them away all the same, “Who knew death could be so miserable. I…I finally found out the one thing I’ve wanted to know after all these years. I thought a little closure might help me, but…” You cried, “I feel even more messed up.”

“Why? Do you love me?” He pressed with so little confidence, you felt he only said it to convince himself.

“I…” You hesitated, brows furrowed, “I cared about you. Even though you’re a lunatic. I wanted to give you a chance. But now…now I just want to shove you out this window like you did to me. I want to scream at you, Tate! I want to make you suffer! I want to-”

He shifted closer. Within this vicinity, his maturation became all the more clear. Your weeping hues glazed over the creases under his eyes. The blond bangs of his hair had thinned by a smidgen, losing its youthful shagginess. He was all fine lines and outward exhaustion. Had you met him like this in life, you’d think him a mere decade away from a mid-life crisis.

“Go ahead. If it helps. I don’t mind.” He reached down again, grabbing your hands and guiding them up to his chest, “Just let all that rage go…you can take it out on me.”

This was just another tactic of his. An attempt to appease you, in desperate hopes you’d forgive him. Still, you didn’t think twice. Whatever wrathful anguish you kept buried inside finally erupted. The soul crushing weight of loss tumbled down over you, sending you into a frenzy. You thrashed your arms, throwing your fists in shallow, but sharp strikes. Battering against Tate’s chest, you landed every blow - inspired by betrayal. He remained still, watching you with a hollow look.

Hits turned to scratches as your grief took hold of you. You clawed into Tate’s sweater, wailing, powerless to the pain of his disloyalty. Taken aback by your overwhelming emotions, you wondered how the afterlife could bring so much suffering. Tate wrapped his arms around you again, and you buried your nose in his sweater. Your sorrowful tears stained the stitching.

“I hate you. So much. So fucking much.” You whimpered.

“You said you cared about me.”

“I hate that I care about you.” You cried, sobbing into his sweater, “I-I want to hate you. I need to hate you. But you’re right. You’re fucking vile, and you’re right. If you were gone, I wouldn’t have anybody else.”

Shifting again, he tilted your head up with a cold hand under your chin. Tate stared down at you, weary with lonesome desolation. The endless monotony of purgatory brought forth nothing but turmoil. And that turmoil linked you both in all-consuming angst. When he dove in to kiss your lips, you allowed it. If only to feel something far less painful.

Tate hadn’t kissed anyone in over a decade. But he flowed naturally with you, wary of applying too much pressure. The last of your tears fell, and again, he wiped them away. Separation came slow, as he parted from your lips. He blinked, leering like he couldn’t believe you reciprocated. Another beat, and he dove in all over again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Kissing in your ghostly state felt bleak as the dull air of winter. In the throes of lonesome yearning, death nuzzled death so intimately. You opened yourself up for him, moving back until you hit the windowsill. In your negligence, you sat on it. A calm, easy breeze enveloped your back, tickling your neck. His desirous kisses swallowed you in, his hands claiming your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his words weaving through every kiss.

Fate had yet to deliver you closeness of this kind. You couldn’t fathom how intimate connectedness might work in death. As Tate’s cold lips fell to your neck, the atmosphere between the two of you shifted. Something akin to the radiance of life saturated the air. Like the summer’s glow shining from outside. A few seconds more, and coldness turned to heat. Sensual heat.

“What does it feel like?” You asked, breathless without the need for air. You tipped your head back. Tate took this as an invitation to ravish more of you, “To make love after dying?”

The glossy warmth of his tongue painted gradual lines across your neck. He caressed you with a thumb, gliding the digit over your cheek. Under the newfound heat of his palm, you felt burning intensity. No one else brought you physical touch like this. Not since a time before you perished, so long ago.

All because of him.

“Feels kinda the same?” Tate muttered in a hushed voice. Capturing your lips again, he kissed you with cautious tenderness, “It’s a lot like being alive…from what I remember. Some of us get addicted to it. Like a drug. They suffer without it. Drives ‘em crazy.”

His forehead fell to yours once more, and Tate’s eyes fluttered shut. He continued stroking your cheek, cradling your face. As if you’d disappear once he let go. You noticed the way his chest heaved. Slowly, like his lungs were still infused with the essence of life. But when he moved in for another kiss, you felt no breath on your lips.

“Does it drive you crazy?” You whispered between kisses, “Do you suffer without it?”

“Not really.” He said, dragging his thumb over your lip, “Missed this, though. I miss it all the time.”

“What? Kissing?”

Tate nodded, blond brows creasing as his smile faded. For a beat or two more, he fell silent. Staring down into your eyes with all the liveliness of a barren void. You gazed into a cave-like abyss, lost with no light to guide you. Beckoned by the promise of something unseen.

“This feels…different…with you.” He whispered.

“Different how?” You shivered as his soft touches moved elsewhere, "Are you feeling guilty? Does it hurt? I hope it fucking hurts."

Dragging the tips of his fingers up and down your arms, he drew invisible lines with his nails. So careful. Like you’d shatter if he treated you too roughly. His palms settled over your hips, and again, he kissed you. Tate just couldn’t seem to stop doing so, even as you spoke to him with poison on your tongue.

“No. It’s warmer.” He squeezed your hips a little tighter, “Why…why’s it so warm with you?”

The initial kisses between you both were so frigid and lifeless. But now, somehow, so heated and real. You locked your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles. Inviting him forward, you loomed in the sill of the window. Your body tilted. In the arms of the summer’s air, you almost fell backwards. You had every reason to believe Tate would let you plummet.

But he didn’t. Not this time.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he kept you from slipping. Under your dress, his free hand sought the heat between your legs. His palm cradled warmth over thin cloth. Discreetly, he pressed the pads of his fingers to your sex over your panties. And the contact amplified a scorching fire within you. A vigor exceeding the bitterness of death.

You wondered if Tate had less experience than he claimed in therapy. It took him a few tries before he found your clit. His sizable fingers circled your little nub in easy motions. Drawing long, needy noises out of you. Silence lingered between you both in calm, but tense quiet. Until the rasp of his voice caught your attention.

“Do you feel this? Do you feel, like…anything?”

You whimpered in response - timid like a churchmouse - as wetness stained Tate’s fingers through fabric. Cotton once so pure and untouched became damp. He chuckled, the sinister rumble in his throat making your blood run cold. Until the warmth of desire lured you in before you could second guess yourself. Savoring the hot friction on your pussy, you allowed sin to taint your clarity.

"For you? No. Never. You're sick. You're twisted. You're-" You cut yourself off with another whimper, once Tate caressed you with more pressure.

“Oh, shit…” He hastily tugged your panties down your thighs. Cupping your bare cunt, he pressed firmly into your clit. Thick digits teased the blazing heat of your folds, “You do, don’t you?”

Tate’s fingers dipped into your slick valley, his digits predominantly larger than your own. You rolled your hips just a smidgen, careful not to lose your balance - lest you fall out the window. Again. Though, maybe a rough tumble onto the lawn would knock some sense back into your muddled head. His other arm stayed iron locked around your body, keeping you safe. He eased inside you with all the hesitance of a man out of practice.

"F-Fuck! Fuck this. Fuck you." You mumbled, hushed under airy moans.

Following the squeeze of pleasure in your core, came something you lost in the afterlife. You almost felt the pumping of your dead heart again. A ghostly sensation of life blossomed under your ribs. Warmth flowed through your veins in syrupy bliss. Cozy wind billowed from outside, tickling your skin. If you closed your eyes for long enough, basking in the ecstasy of true feeling - you might’ve believed you were somehow revived.

Flitting your lashes, your eyes gradually opened. The sunny glow of afternoon light painted Tate’s aged features, showering him in golden rays. An image far too heavenly for a cold-blooded monster birthed from sin. You looked lazily into his hues. A whirlpool of guilt intermingling with lifeless cruelty; all within his dusky eyes.

“Feels like…” He mumbled, clumsily nuzzling your clit with the pad of his thumb. Biting his lip, Tate stifled a groan. He buried his fingers to the knuckle in your cunt, “...like I can feel your blood pumping.” Adding a third digit, he stretched you open. Your walls made effortless room just for him. You whined, making him smirk, “Fuck, this is hot. You love it, huh?”

"No. No. No, I'd never! Not with you. I'm just-" You swallowed, feeling your cheeks burn, "It really does feel like-"

Post-mortem coldness became lost on you now. Left behind, alongside your broken hearted resentment. Instead, you were overcome with the lively spirit of beingness. The afterlife had been so unkind to you. For a decade now. It abandoned you to stew in the longevity of solitude. With no one but Tate to provide you true company. Bringing your hands up to his cheeks, you pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers threaded through his blond locks. Winding your tongue sloppily with his, you whined.

"Make me cum." You asserted, your legs sealing tighter around him, "Make me cum, and I might forgive you."

A flash of vulnerable sweetness overtook Tate's face, his puppydog eyes lighting up. An almighty flood of euphoria built up to a radiant crescendo, as his digits fucked you into oblivion. You clamped around his fingers, squirming with such intensity - he almost lost his hold on you. Tranquility found you at the peak of your climax. A divine miracle. As you cried little pleas into Tate’s lips, you felt as though you grew angel’s wings. As if some ethereal being descended from the heavens themselves, stole you away, and led you to the golden gates.

As you shuddered, your paradisal tremors eventually subsided. Blissful nirvana faded, and the hollow nothingness of death’s touch came again. Outside, the world continued on in slow-moving seconds. And in the distant horizon, the sun began its steady fall into night. Tate’s nose brushed yours. Looming in so close, he withdrew his drenched digits from your pussy. Leaving even more forsaken emptiness behind.

“I could…do that kinda thing for you every day…if you wanted me to.” He whispered, peppering your forehead in kisses, “It feels really good, doesn’t it? Just…please don’t make me go away? Please…”

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon #american horror story #ahs

[bunny-yan]

ahhhkk i'm so in love with yan priest! part 3 maybe? 🫣

TW: Threats, Manipulation, mentions kidnapping, power imbalance, erroneous use of religion, minors DNI

—

Walking down the dilapidated steps to the basement, he held his breath to avoid inhaling the dust caking the walls from years of neglect and unuse. He’d made a mental note to assign some of the new initiates to scrub it clean when they were safe to work in silence. 

A judging gaze swept from wall to wall, repressing a sigh as he promised to do better. No one was perfect, something he knew instinctively. Hours of praying and offering fealty to the goddess let him know there were many areas he was lacking. 

Before, he seemed content to simply accept it as truth, but his recent discovery set alight a dangerous desire to be more than the cap containing the mediocrity of human existence. He wanted to appear perfect, unblemished by the world’s greed and untouched internally by hate. 

He chanted softly, light gathering around his hands before he set the full tray he was carrying on a wooden table. Bringing the light to the torch he watched as his hands glowed from the soft flame that began to spread light throughout the room. 

The priest knew he was long way from his goal when he turned and glowing eyes met his. 

It would happen in due time. Until then, he wasn’t completely against indulging in simple pleasures of the flesh. The goddess would understand. 

“How are you?” his voice strong and carrying through the wide enclosure though he spoke softly. Picking up the tray, he walked closer to the bars that held one of the few treasures that life had to offer. “I seem to recall you weren’t feeling too well so I brought some things for your throat and that headache of yours.”

Walking closer to the bars, he couldn’t help but feel like a predator from the way your eyes watched him warily. 

He stooped to set down the tray and push it through the little opening carved in the bars to allow meals for their guests, eyes widening when he stood and was face to face with his rebellious captive. 

Faster than his eyes could follow, your arm snaked through the bars and grabbed a fistful of his priest’s robes before yanking him to meet your face against the bars. Was he the prey?

“Let. Me. Out.” you growled hoarsely. 

He looked between your eyes, his own softening at the sight of anger and hurt bleeding through your gaze. 

“Did you spend all night yelling again?” he asked, cocking his head to the side with a concerned expression. “I’ve already told you that holy power can only heal the damage to a certain extent. You have to give yourself time to heal.”

“Shut up.” you told him, shaking him forcefully as you shook your head. “Shut up. Stop pretending like you care about me. I wouldn’t be in this cage if it wasn’t for you.”

“You’re right.” he said, catching you off guard. 

You stood frozen as his hand slowly reached through the bar before cupping the side of your face with a gentleness you didn’t know he was capable of. Sliding his hand down your face you felt something ominous from the light brush against your lips before his fingers were gently wrapping themselves around your neck. 

You felt the familiar warmth of power flow into you, relieving the scratching tension in your throat as his cold voice said, “If it weren’t for me you’d be dead somewhere, a used up pawn in someone else’s game.”

You jerked away from his touch, hand touching your throat as you glared at him. He returned your look with a simple smile, bringing his hands together and beginning to chant. 

You watched, as you had the last days you spent awake, as the bars slowly disintegrated before disappearing in a burst of brilliant light that emanated from the priest. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed in concentration as he finished the remainder of the chant. 

You knew from experience that there was no point running to the stairs. The bars of your cage had replaced the open doorway that led to your enclosure. You could bang on the bars, pull at them until your fingers bled, but they were just as strong if not stronger than the bars that initially held you captive in half of the room. You could attack him, hoping to interrupt his incantation, but an unknown force would throw you back and the bars would be up before you could recover the stolen breath in your lungs. It didn’t help that he would take it all in stride. Looking at you with pity in his gaze before offering to heal your new wounds and bruises. 

The furniture reconfigured itself to a bedroom’s design, the priest walking to pull out a chair in front of the wooden table to sit down as if it was the most natural thing in the world. 

You were once again, frozen, mesmerized as you finally allowed yourself to watch the transformation instead of making an escape. 

“I could’ve taught you how to do something like this if you would’ve taken me up on my offer.”

Your gaping surprise turned into stony silence as you pierced him with a glare. 

“I already explained to you that I have my family to take care of.”

“You are taking care of them.” he said, sweeping a hand out. “They’re being sent ten times the salary you made as a cadet in your name. Your family will want for nothing.”

You felt a rising desperation as you sensed that the argument wasn’t going to be in your favor.  

“But that’s-”

“Your mother won’t have to work another day in her life. She can hire others to replace your younger siblings on the farm. They can go to school if they desire or laze in luxury for the rest of their natural born lives. What is so unsatisfying about this deal?”

“I don’t want to be here!”

Silence.

It spread between the two of you, tension thickening in the air. You felt uneasy from his unchanging expression, unsure if you preferred the naturally cold gaze to the soft concern that often adorned his features when it was concerning you. Each felt equally dangerous. 

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether you should say something by way of explanation, but you didn’t owe it to him. You didn’t owe him anything. The priest you’d once admired had completely disappeared into this possessive stranger when you’d finally made up your mind to reject the offer to work under him. 

The deal was nice, but you didn’t think temple work suited you. Hours spent cleaning and praying, offering obeisance to the goddess day after day before being cooped up in a room to memorize scriptures. It was a stuffy life. 

A life that lacked adventure, change, freedom. 

You wanted to scoff at where that line of thinking had gotten you. 

Your reward after fighting for years that bled together like a singular memory was a cell, cold and dark, deep underground where no one would ever hear you scream. 

You’d become paranoid. 

Hearing things that weren’t there, seeing figures lurk in the shadows. You continuously had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real. That you were alone down here. It only made you spiral further. 

Would he forget you down here? He came every day with that light you had begun to unconsciously crave, brightening the dreary room to offer you food and water. 

It didn’t seem likely from the way his eyes never left your body, watching you so carefully as if he’d miss a simple flutter of your eyelashes if he looked away for even a moment. 

It was disgusting how relieved you felt. You knew there was no chance of you starving, having been forgotten in your prison but a part of you resented him for it. Resented his bleeding concern, his presence, his kind memory that was constantly being overwritten by the worshiping hunger in his eyes. A hunger that he seemed to derive pleasure from the longer he left it to rot and spread. An unsettling feeling, being left to wonder when  his eyes would  resemble a starved animal’s, unthinking and vicious.

“You should eat before your food gets cold.” he said. 

Your eyes left his to trail to the tray of food. 

A part of you wanted to ignore him, but a gnawing hunger moved your body before you could deny yourself the pleasure of his vexation. 

Picking up the tray filled with things you liked, you reluctantly sat across from him. 

The priest reached into his robes to offer you utensils to eat your meal with and it only sparked further irritation in you. 

What was with this needy reliance? 

You were stuck underground, presumably unknown to the other priests since he was your only visitor, one that you received twice a day every day. You’d ask him to come more often before being hit with a knowing yet longing gaze, the combination making the hairs on your arm stand on end. You wanted to see if there was a way out, knowing you could only search when he was here, but your hope died when he rejected you. Didn’t want the others becoming suspicious of his frequent trips to the basement. 

 He brought your meals, offering small incentives like books to pass the time with when you showed rare compliance. You could only read in his presence since he refused to leave the light burning despite your repetitive ignored pleas not to be left in the dark. 

You were left wondering what his angle was, leaving you to fumble around in the dark which became increasingly exasperating when you had to relieve yourself. You supposed it went back to him slowly forcing you to rely on him for things as intimate as your vision. 

It almost became natural, feeling that uncomfortable gaze dissecting you as you brought a spoon to your mouth, relishing the taste that permeated your mouth. 

You often wondered where your meals came from considering the priest’s were resigned to eating bread and water unless it was a special occasion. For some reason you couldn’t picture him cooking in a kitchen, preparing your food in a methodical manner as he followed detailed instructions to make the dishes, but you didn’t ask. You weren’t back to having carefree conversations with the priest you’d once regarded as a friend. You didn’t know the person sitting in front of you. 

He cleared his throat and you looked up to meet his disapproving gaze. You looked on with a sour expression, but allowed the spoon to clank against the bowl as you reluctantly took his outstretched hand. 

“Goddess, we come to you today to offer thanks.”

He continued his prayer, offering thanks for the food you were eating and praying that you received her blessings as your body was nourished. You’d considered telling him where he could go shove his prayers, but after witnessing that cold, hard stare as he walked away with your tray, you were sure you didn’t want to see it again. Fasting would be your penance and there was no arguing with someone who’d grown up knowing a body would be just fine without food for a couple of days. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t ever experienced going without food for a day or two. With a big family and an uncertain crop yield, you made sacrifices as the oldest to make sure your younger siblings were well cared for. But farm work among other responsibilities kept your mind off of the emptiness in your stomach. You had to go days without food out in the field. Exhausted and constantly weary, it was hell but you could rely on your bestfriend to take your mind off of the pit growing inside of you. In your prison, darkness was your only comfort and it didn’t offer much. It was all you could think about as you tried to sleep off the gnawing sensation. 

You wanted to be angry at the priest, but he’d relinquished his own meals for the duration of your punishment—penance—making it difficult to complain when you saw how unaffected he was by your “whining.”

Losing another meal was the last thing you wanted. 

“And let us thank you for continual guidance and love as we learn to appreciate where fate takes us. You know all and with open hearts and minds we bring ourselves underneath your infinite wisdom to gain a speck of understanding of your great plan.”

His thumb brushed over the top of your hand and you made eye contact with him as he said, “Even as we resist your design for truth and lack understanding for the things you will.”

Eyes widening at his implication, you wrenched your hands out of his grip, but his fingers slapped around your wrists like shackles before you managed to pull away. You struggled, but he continued his prayer as if you were listening faithfully. 

When he let go of your hands you rubbed the raw area glaring at him as you stared at the food in front of you. 

A part of you was nauseous, unwilling to take even a bite after that self serving prayer of his. 

“You should take more time to understand that your sacrifice is a blessing.”

And he continued to disgust you further. 

“Can you stop?”

“I don’t expect you to get it right away, but eventually you’ll learn that this was for the best.”

“Stop!” you yelled, the word emphasized by the fist that slammed down on the wooden table that creaked under the force of your blow. 

“Prayer will help with impatience and anger. We can begin after you finish your meal.”

You hated his unbothered tone. It was as if he didn’t hear a word you said. 

You couldn’t deny that prayer was often something you turned to whenever someone you loved got sick, or if someone you cared about was going through a rough time. It even offered you solace on the difficulties you faced, but you doubted the goddess would be willing to listen to your prayers when it was her faithful servant who’d trapped you 40 feet below ground in the first place. 

It was hypocritical and hearing those words come out of his mouth made you want to scream. You didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. You didn’t want to listen to his excuses disguised as wisdom and concern. 

Shoving a warm spoon of soup in your mouth, you tried to bite down the anger and restlessness because any emotion other than obedience wouldn’t bode well for you. It was against your better nature. Against all of the training you’d received. You’d learned the proper way to act if you ever became a prisoner of war, but your training didn’t cover the behavior a soldier should take, should your imprisoner be one of the priests meant to aide you. He kept saying that this was for your benefit and it wasn’t like he was wrong when he claimed that you would probably be just another body, used until the senseless fighting ceased, but this was wrong. Forcing you to remain in this damp cell while others, while your best friend, risked their life. If this had something to do with his personal belief, that war was wrong, where were his other victims? The other soldiers he’d whisked away from the battlefield? It’d make sense to separate you, but he couldn’t imagine the church having so many neglected rooms. Cleanliness was next to godliness, as the saying went. And there was more than enough space down here for at least one other person. 

You hated to admit it, but if he did have another person trapped, you wished they were here with you. A companion against the silent darkness was a guilty craving you couldn’t tame and those disgusting feelings of relief that came when he showed his face were only growing the longer you were forced to sit in isolation. 

But there was the other possibility. That he’d taken you alone. 

The thought erected goosebumps on your arms. It was insane, but as little as he visited you, it didn’t make sense for him to come twice a day and care for multiple captives while remaining undetected. But if this was true, it begged the question, why you?

You didn’t want to be crass, but you weren’t really special. Reasonably attractive by your own standards, fit because of the training you had to keep up with, and not an awful person. It described most of the others you spent most of your time with. You weren’t this great conversationalist that was able to enrapture everyone in the room, or possessed the beauty that could do the same. There were others with better bodies, minds and understanding that dwarfed your capabilities in every way, so why did he take you? You’d only interacted on a handful of occasions, none of which were spectacularly worthy of note. In fact, your initial interaction was pretty embarrassing since you were unable to remain conscious. 

“Are you finished?” he asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You knew it was no use thinking about questions he would never answer. 

Nodding your head, you watched as he picked them up before placing them off the side. He’d take them with him when he left and wash them. Wouldn’t leave you with anything you could possibly make a weapon out of. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

He came back to the table, extending his hands for you to place your own in. It wasn’t a question. If you refused to pray with him, your obeisance would be a fast that would last until your stomach threatened to cave in on itself. 

Placing your hands in his, you noted the way he took a deep breath before closing his eyes. It was more of a calming gesture than one meant to prepare him for prayer. 

“Dear Goddess, we come to you today to offer obeisance.”

He started all of his prayers the same. 

Giving thanks, proferring gifts to be offered at a later time, out of sight, and pleading for forgiveness as he repented for his mortal sins. He always seemed to linger in repentance. 

His hands would crush yours in his grip, holding you as if he’d never let you go, worrying you when you would begin to feel pain. The first couple of times he looked guilty when you protested, seeing the bruises form underneath your knuckles, but these days he remained indignant. Uncaring about your temporary pain as he struggled with something you couldn’t begin to understand. 

It always lasted too long. 

You were grateful that he didn’t force you to kneel as he had the first couple of days. It was rough on your knees and the friction rubbed them raw the longer you stayed in that position. It was a show of piety, he would say when you complained, but when he caught you glaring at him angrily, he decided that sitting across from each other would be better. 

For you or for him, he wouldn’t say. 

You were silent, thinking about what your mother was doing, whether she was happy, whether she ever wondered where you were, and why you never wrote. 

If your siblings missed you. If they enjoyed school, assuming the priest kept his word and they were being paid for your imprisonment. 

Enough to never want for anything. 

You wondered if your best friend was okay. If she was still alive and if she was still serving. 

It made you feel incredibly empty. 

Having no one to talk to other than your kidnapper. Wondering how others lived as your own life came to a grinding halt. How you could expect another year of this, wondering if you could even handle another day. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes. 

For the first time, you felt it was all hopeless. 

You couldn’t keep the emotion welling up inside of you to yourself as you choked on your tears. The priest looked shock, his grip loosening on your limp hands as he looked at you, unsure how to respond. He was used to putting up with your anger, your hatred, but something warm filled him at the sight of your tears. 

“It’s okay.” he said simply, releasing a hand to brush the tears flooding from your eyes. 

He got up, coming around the table despite you shaking your head, lazily attempting to pull your hand away to refuse him, but you couldn’t help the desperate need for closeness as he wrapped his arms around you. He comforted you gently and despite your better judgement, you wrapped your arms around him. Burying your face in his robes as he cried. 

Head tilted towards the goddess, he sighed as he gripped the shirt around your back. 

“Thank you,” he offered, solemnly ending his prayer. 

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere priest

[zriasstuff]

Shower Thoughts (Tom Riddle smut)

Professor Riddle x fem!reader (just imaginary)

WARNINGS: 18+ mature fanfic, includes piv sex scene and graphic descriptions

Fuck you’d been tired throughout the entire day. Finally, you could return to your dorm and just relax. The entire school day felt as if it went on for an eternity, yet you couldn’t remember anything that had happened. Well, nothing besides just how hot your potions professor was. That you’d always remember. It was kind of the only reason you even went to class at this point, otherwise there was really no point in going.

In class, the young professor Riddle would always wear his black, formal attire which added to his already existing seriousness which was visible from one look at his face. His stoic expression always invoked fear in every student, yet you found it oddly handsome. Riddle’s shirt collar was only unbuttoned to the point where you could see his sharp collarbones, but nothing below that area. His shirt was truly the thing that was really driving you crazy every time you saw him. It wrapped around his toned figure so well, that you could see the outline of his clearly existent abs, yet the real deal was closed off.

It started out as a silly teacher crush, who doesn’t have one of those. But slowly he turned into something you desired, craved deep within yourself. It was definitely extremely unhealthy, to the extent that you toyed with the thought of having a little something something with your professor.

Currently, you were in the shower, wanting to just quickly rinse yourself off with some cold water to bring back some sort of life into you. A few minutes in, your fingers start trailing downwards though, and while the water tickles off of your body, slowly but surely your mind starts to wander.

You imagine Professor Riddle telling you to stay late in his class to discuss something with you. Barely being able to walk steadily toward his dark, imposing, fucking hot, figure, due to the jitters that were going through your body, you still somehow make it and ask him what was going on.

You notice him staring at your legs, and his eyes lingering at your particularly short skirt. You innerly wished he’d just bend you over at that exact moment and fuck you right there on his desk.

Riddle tells you to come closer, while still staring intensely at you, so you do. At a certain point you’ve moved so close to him, that you could practically taste his breath. Professor Riddle leans down to your height and whispers in your ear “I can tell you want me to fuck you right now until you can’t walk anymore.”, in an almost threatening way.

“So do it”, you reply, trying to play your excitement off with a seemingly cool tone. With a swift motion he places you onto his desk, his face still just a millimeter away from yours and he starts to trail his fingers upward from your thighs to your short skirt. Tortuously slow, he starts to rub your inner thighs, which gets a huffed sigh from you and inch by inch he was getting closer to your wet spot. As soon as he makes contact with your sweet cunt, even through your underwear, you feel a crippling sensation running through your body and your mind can’t think of anything else other than wanting to be ruined by this man. “Look at how needy and wet you are”, Riddle taunts you. He was right, your aching pussy was getting more and more sensitive and needy. Seeing how much you need his fingers to give you the sweet pleasure that you craved so desperately, he starts pushing your underwear aside to insert one finger into you.

At that exact moment, you do the same with your own finger in the shower.

It’s a sensation you’ve felt before, but your insides are just begging for more. The thought of your professor giving it to you makes you clench around that one sensational finger that you so deeply wish was his. Before you could let out a moan, you shut yourself up quickly, realizing your roommates might hear you.

In your mind, Riddle was kissing you roughly and sucking your lips, to make you quiet. As he inserted two more fingers, you feel your tight cunt being stretched to the fullest and he kept teasing you by not fully hitting your sweet spot. “Please”, you moan and he smirks. “Please what?” “Deeper”, you whimper, which is exactly what he wants to hear. You needed his fingers buried as deep as possible inside you, no matter how painful it might be. Finally, you yelp out as he hit your sweet spot. It was too much already, but he kept curling his fingers towards it, knowing you were close already. In order to chase your high, you even start to bounce on his fingers and riding on them as if they were his real cock.

“Don’t get too greedy now doll”

And he removes his fingers completely. Out of breath you stare at him with disbelief and you beg him to please continue. “Please, you can do whatever you want to me”, you whine, all just so he would continue.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock. Aren’t you ashamed?”

Indeed you were, but you were also way too horny to properly think at the same time.

“Yes, ‘m so desperate for your cock”

He enjoys his power over you so much. While he was unbuckling his belt, you tell him to be as rough as he can with you. “Such a slut for me”, he sneers at you.

His cock first makes contact with your already swollen and wet clit, sending shivers through your entire body. Your cunt was already stretched out and wet, when he started to slowly slide it in, inch by inch. His cock must’ve been 8 inches, and it was so thick and already leaking precum at the tip when he revealed it. Looks like he was just as turned on by you as you were by him.

As you were sitting on a table, it allowed him to really thrust his dick balls deep in you, to let it get sucked in by your tight pussy. As soon as it was completely inside, both his hands grabbed onto your waist to hold you place, as he thrust his dick roughly in and out. “Fuck you’re tight”, he remarks, which just made you clench down on him even tighter.

With each rough thrust he hit your sweet spot, earning him more and more desperate moans and whimpers. Your hands were on his back, keeping him close so his dick would fill you up to the fullest possible brim. Each time he slid out, he would just thrust it in even harsher, not caring that your sweet cunt was being abused so roughly by him.

As he began chasing his orgasm, you notice his thrusts start to become more messy, and a string of harsh grunts left his mouth. Groaning, while still holding you tightly, he tells you to only come when he tells you to. Becoming harder and harder to contain, you feel the urge to come and cry out “I have to come”.

“Just wait a little more doll” he orders, and after a few more seconds you feel his cum coating your cunt from the inside. Shortly after, you ride out your own orgasm too. The sensation lasted a few seconds and you felt euphoric as you clenched onto his cock and creamed all over it. At the end of it all, you could barely catch your breath and that’s when

“Hey, are you almost done showering, there’s other people in this dorm you know?”, your roommate interrupts your little self care session.

Fuck. You did manage to cum from your own fingers too, but it would’ve been so much better if it were professor riddles cock.

Turning off the shower, you get dressed and go to bed. Tonight, you definitely wanted nothing more than to dream about your imagined scenario during shower time ;)

#smut #tom riddle #slytherin #harry potter #professor x #student #oneshot #slytherin boys #fanfic #imagine #tom marvolo riddle #mature #18+ content #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle smut

[daysofyellowroses]

toast

carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | 18+ minors dni | tw: mentions of death, overdose, shitty behaviour, smut, mostly implied but a little more explicit at the end

Going to bed alone is not ideal when you have someone to share that bed with you, but it's par for the course in certain relationships, such as the one you have with Carmy. 

Well, if it can even be called a relationship. From the outside it certainly looks like a relationship, two people who sleep together, eat together, make each other laugh, make out on the couch like horny teenagers and send silly little messages to each other. That's a relationship, right?

Even if you don't technically sleep together, (not always, anyway but usually someone is getting out of bed and picking their clothes up off the floor fifteen minutes later), if you eat leftovers because cooking is too intimate, if the laughter can just as easily turn to empty silence, or frustrated yells. If the messages become less silly and more sparse (you're not quite at "you up?" but you're not far off it) it's still something, right?

Okay, okay, hands up. It's not exactly a relationship, but that's not from lack of want. It's just..Carmy. Fucking Carmy, and his fucking restaurant. Those two are intertwined, bonded for life, never leaving each other. 

In an ideal world, Carmy would be intertwined with you, bonded to you, would never leave you. But it's not an ideal world. 

If anyone knows that to be true, you certainly do. Ideal worlds don't exist, you learned the hard way. Parents who barely notice you exist because they're caught up in their own shitty behaviours. Those same parents divorcing, one dying of an overdose followed by the other dying in a car accident. Being sent to live with a grandmother you barely knew when you were at the start of your teens. 

There were some tiny silver linings, of course. Your grandmother turned out to be the most gentle, loving, compassionate woman with the patience of a saint when it came to you. You were not exactly easy to deal with as a teenager. After growing up around shitty behaviour, it took root in you and you followed suit. After moving to Chicago you started hanging around with the "wrong" crowd,  smoking, drinking in abandoned houses, staying out til all hours and no doubt worrying your grandmother sick. 

Slowly, though ,she started to get through to you. She never screamed or dished out punishments, never gave you a lecture or told you how disappointed she was, but you could always sense it. You were almost 18 before you realised she waited up every single night, refusing to go to bed until she knew you were home safely.

There was no big emotional sit down, no heart to heart. You just started making small changes, implanting them over time. Coming home at a decent hour, making dinner, watching wheel of fortune. 

Not every single night, of course, but you made an effort. One day you happened to pass by a gym and saw an advertisement for a receptionist position, couple of days a week.

To your surprise, you got the job. It was an easy gig, sitting behind a desk and getting to people watch for a couple of hours. There were little bits and pieces of administrative work that you did when you were really bored, but you started to enjoy having a focus, having little achievements. 

College was never going to happen, you knew that. "Intelligent, but does not apply herself" was the constant remark from teachers. What was the point of spending endless hours trying to get into college just to spend a fortune dicking around when you could do that for free at home? 

But that didn't mean you didn't rule out any further options. You took work more seriously, got more hours when you graduated high school. Applied for community college, got accepted much to your shock. 

It wasn't the most amazing student experience, but you made good friends, pushed yourself to apply that Intelligence, and couldn't deny it was an amazing feeling to see your grandmother be so proud, feeling like you weren't disappointing her anymore was the ultimate benefit.

She didn't get to see you graduate, but she did leave you an amazing parting gift, her home became yours. It pushed you to keep going, to not let yourself fall back on old habits. You got a job in an office, got a coffee every day, started going to the gym you used to work in, all in all you were living a perfectly ordinary life.

Nothing to write home about, really, but it meant a lot to you. It meant you being able to say, 'I am not my parents, I am not destined to end up like they did. I am doing good.'

In the relationship department..you always felt like you'd frontloaded all your experience when you were in your teens. You had some fun, did your thing, never really had anything too serious. You dated while in community college, met some nice guys. They bought flowers, made stupid jokes you politely laughed at, got excited talking about craft beer/football/whatever TV show was big that month. One or two relationships, but they didn't really last that long. Still, they made you realise what you wanted, and what you didn't want. 

Then..Carmy came into your life. 

The funny thing was, you weren't actually looking for anything when you met him. You'd decided to sell your grandmother's place to buy your own apartment, which felt painful but you kept her most precious belongings to make your new place feel more like home while still being a new start. Work wasn't particularly exciting but you were doing well, and one of the girls you'd become close with at college had started working with you, which made it more tolerable.

The last thing you'd expected was to discover that same friend was dating someone, someone you never would have paired her with.

Richie fucking Jerimovich.

You had noticed she'd been smiling at her phone more, had mentioned she was seeing someone, and you were happy for her of course but when she suggested going to the Beef one day for lunch the last thing you expected was that it wasn't for the food.

Of course you'd been to the Beef before, it would be a struggle to find someone who hadn't. But it wasn't exactly close to the office, and you hadn't been for a while. Not out of choice, just..it hadn't been somewhere you'd dropped by.

Still, you figured you were overdue for a sweet beef sandwich, so had agreed to go along. When you'd walked in and Richie had smiled so genuinely at your best friend you immediately knew what the situation was.

"Still the only person who can genuinely surprise me, Rich," You had grinned. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"You know me," Richie shrugged with a grin, flipping a towel over his shoulder. "I always got something up my sleeve."

Fucking Richie.

You'd been there, before. The two of you had been at some house party or other, you couldn't remember why or how you'd even ended up there. But you'd found yourself sitting on a couch with Richie, excitedly telling him you recognised him from your favourite sandwich shop. He'd made you laugh, excitedly telling you his Bill Murray story. He was wearing a nice cologne, and he was actually a good kisser, you would give him that. One thing led to another and you ended up upstairs in whoever's house. It had been fun, you didn't regret it, but it had definitely been a one time only thing.

About a week after you heard Michael had died, you'd bumped into Richie again in the supermarket. He seemed to be his usual self on the outside but the spark was gone from his eyes. You hadn't been by the restaurant much since.

Until you went along with your best friend and apparently Richie's new girlfriend. 

You had ordered a sandwich and left them to it while you went to have a cigarette. You'd tried to quit several times, but could never quite do it. And no matter how many times they were suggested, you refused to give in to vapes. So it was out in the breezy air, round the side of the restaurant, searching around in your bag for a lighter.

The cigarette between your lips was begging to be lit, and memories of passing your lighter to Deb from HR that morning hit you. She never had given it back.

You had been about to admit defeat when you heard him.

"Need a light?"

That was it, the most basic question and you could have fallen to your knees with relief. Then you turned and saw him and could have fallen to your knees anyway. 

He offered you his lighter, which you took with a grateful nod. You had closed your eyes as you inhaled, letting the smoke fill your lungs before breathing it out. He was looking at you intently when you opened your eyes.

You returned the lighter, offering your thanks. He lit a cigarette himself, and you stood in a strangely comfortable and electric silence for a few moments. 

You couldn't really remember what who had spoken first, maybe he had asked you if you were eating at the restaurant, maybe you asked if he was a chef. Either way, conversation was sparked and you felt a growing attraction for him, physically at least. You made him laugh, you knew that. He looked cute when he laughed, you wanted to make him laugh and smile and a whole lot more.

At some point you had both gone back inside, and that was that. 

Until the next day, when you went back again for lunch. Richie teased you about being a regular, you gave him the finger as you went to have a cigarette. No sign of life that time, to your disappointment. 

So you went back again, and again. Sometimes he would be out for a cigarette already, sometimes he would join you. 

Carmy, you learned. It suited him, you definitely thought that. He was already in your thoughts, then his name spilled from your lips at night, alone in your room.

After a week, heading into the second, you were surprised that he hadn't asked you out, or even asked for your number. Not that you were being conceited, more..the two of you had developed a flirtation. Eyes lingered, fingers brushed against skin when the lighter was exchanged. Comments were made, bodies moving a little closer together each time.

Yet, nothing.

It was halfway through the third week when you got a message out of the blue from an unknown number. Evidently your bestie had given Richie your number to pass along, because apparently you were all still in high school. 

Still, it meant you were invited out for a drink. Late, but you figured he worked late, he would only be free late. You had one drink, maybe a couple of sips of a second before you were walking out of the bar and pulling Carmy into an Uber. Maybe he was pulling you, either way you both knew exactly what you wanted.

It was almost like stress relief for you both. Desperate and hot and messy. Neither of you said much beyond 'fuck', 'harder' and moaning, but it was the best you had had in a very long time.

When you woke up alone the next morning, you couldn't help but feel a little confused, and little cheap. You didn't expect him to be laying there looking at you like a lost puppy but you at least expected him to be there. But he was gone, had he stayed and slipped away early or did he wait until you fell asleep and make a run for it?

You tried not to think about it too much, it was what it was, these things happen. Still, if it was half as good for him as it was for you..he would surely want more.

And, it turned out, he did.

You got a classic late night text, and made your way to his place. You barely saw more than his front door, he pulled you in so quickly. It was even better than the first time, and you knew you were already in danger of becoming addicted. 

It took some time to get used to, finding a balance between relationship and fling, but slowly a little routine developed. Not a relationship but..all the elements of one, like a deconstructed sandwich. Which is how it started. He had randomly offered you a PB&J while you were putting your bra back on and you agreed. He didn't have much bread left so you had open faced sandwiches on the couch in your underwear. 

Sometimes when he came to your apartment, you would be in the middle of watching something and he would watch it with you, tattooed hand on your thigh waiting patiently til one of you broke and lunged at the other.

So that was it. There was you, there was Carmy. You did things together, but you were not together. It was just how it was.

Probably for the best, you tried to tell yourself. After all, it's not like Carmy was easy to be around constantly. He could drive you crazy, to the point where you would end up screaming in frustration, have him scream right back at you. Doors would slam, days would pass in silence, then one of you would be standing in the other's doorway, profusely apologizing until there was a trail of clothes leading to the bed/kitchen counter/nearest surface.

But..the funniest thing happened, something you never would have expected. 

Richie popped the question. For real. And got a yes.

Of course you were thrilled, how could you not be when your best friend in the world was engaged? But..it made you reevaluate your own situation. You didn't want to marry Carmy, but..you at least wanted to eat together at a restaurant, sleep in the same bed, watch a whole fucking movie together. 

The engagement party pushed you to the edge. The music was blasting, the food was incredible, you felt great in your dress..but the knot on your stomach wouldn't go away. Here was a couple on the verge of committing themselves to each other forever and you couldn't even get Carmy to commit to sleeping next to you. It was your own doing, you knew. You could have ended it when you started wanting more, but you couldn't do it. And now you had to pay the price. 

You picked a fight about something stupid at the party, unable to stop yourself. You suspected Carmy knew what was going on but had the tact not to say it. You almost wished he had. When you felt you were about to get really angry, you'd gone for a cigarette, the lighter shaking in your hands. He'd followed you, and you let it all out at him, feeling like a damned hypocrite but refusing to give in to the feeling.

You went home alone after that, wondering if that was it between you and Carm. If you wanted that to be it. You had been spiteful, petty, but honest. 

And now, here you stand in your bathroom doorway, exhausted and emotionally drained. 

Sleep is all you want, all you need. So you tell yourself. 

The bed feels cold, too big and too small at once. It's a struggle to sleep, and when you do it's restless and plagued with nightmares. You wake up when you hear something from the living room. Too tired to get up and investigate, awake enough to feel nervous. 

"It's me," A voice calls, sounding closer. It takes a second to register, but it's Carmy, you know it. You frown, wondering how he even got in. You never gave him a key, figuring he'd run a mile if you did.

"Got a key from the bride to be," Carmy explains as he opens your bedroom door. "Hope you don't mind."

You can barely keep your eyes open, frowning slightly before taking a breath.

"Mm. 'S fine," You murmur, resting your arm over your eyes as you roll onto your back. 

You hear his footsteps move closer to the bed. 

"Just wanted to check on you."

He keeps talking when you don't respond, takes a step forward.

"I say a lot of shitty things, I know I do. I can't stop myself, though. They just..they come out before I can stop them and I don't want you to think I mean to be such a fucking asshole."

You slowly lower your arm, resting it on your stomach as you let out a breath.

"What is it you want, then?"

He doesn't say anything, and you feel a knot twist in your stomach as you think he'll leave. After a moment he moves closer, carefully sits on the edge of the bed. He smells like cigarettes and grease and cologne. You hate that you love it. That it does it for you every time.

"You," Carmy murmurs after a moment. His hand lightly rests on your arm.

"That's what I want. I want to stop fucking this up, and I don't know how. I'm not the guy who's gonna buy you flowers and write you poetry, I'm gonna plan a date with you and forget to show up, I'm gonna be unreliable and selfish and a pain in the fucking ass and because I'm selfish I want to keep you even though I know I'm fucking it up and screwing you over. But I want to try and be less of a fuck up."

The words hang in the air, your sleep-addled brain tries to make sense of it all.

"You are going to fail horribly," You sigh, reaching out and taking his arm when he moves it away. You can feel the guilt radiating off him.

"But I know that. All I ask is you learn from your mistakes. I don't expect flowers, and I would rather die than have you write me a poem, but I do ask that you spend the rest of the night with me, then in the morning when I wake up you'll be here. We'll eat toast and watch the news and probably have a fight because we're being too fucking domestic too soon but..it will be a start. Okay?"

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a small smile on Carmy's face that grows when his eyes meet yours. "Okay." 

"Good," You nod, slowly moving yourself up on your elbows. "Now..since you so rudely woke me up, you can help me go back to sleep."

"Yes ma'am."

He doesn't need to be asked twice, immediately diving in to kiss you and pin you down on the bed. All you want is to fall asleep feeling him deep inside you, but it seems he has different plans. 

He takes his time, kissing your neck and peeling back the neck of your pajama top to lightly nip and suck your tired flesh. Your eyes close as his large hand snakes under your top, skilled fingers lavishing attention on your already hardened nipples. You feel like you could fall into the most wonderful sleep but force yourself to stay awake.

“Carmy,” You moan softly, your hand finding his hair on the dark. “Please..’m tired, you know what I want..”

He doesn't stop, and you feel a growing slickness between your legs. 

“I know what you need, baby,” He murmurs softly into your neck. “Let me take care of you.”

You don't object as he moves down between your legs. You realize, with a tired smile, that you two have never been this gentle with each other. It feels good.

“Mm..fuck,” You moan as strong hands spread your thighs,hot breath ghosts over your most sensitive parts. He doesn't even have to do all that much to have you melting. “Carmy..”

“I got you,” He murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs. Your hands rise up and under your pillows as the tip of his tongue slowly touches you. “My perfect girl..”

You want to cry and scream and sleep, your body feeling wonderfully weak. He doesn't rush, tasting you slow and delicately, a low heat rising and twisting in your stomach. His hand moves from your thigh as his lips find your clit, your eyes flutter open as warm digits push into you.

“Oh god,” You whisper, closing your eyes and resting your hand in your forehead. “please..please..”

You feel him nod, and answers your request by not speeding up or slowing down, rather continuing to do what he's doing and doing it very fucking well.

It doesn't take long before the law heat in your stomach becomes a raging fire, your heart racing like it will burst from your chest.

“Fuck..’m so close,” You moan, eyes shut tight, hand reaching down to lightly grip Carmy's hair. Part of you wants to pull him away, part of you wants to push him closer. “I..I..”

“Shh,” Carmy whispers, his voice pushing you closer to the edge. “You can..just let go for me darling..”

You come with a soft cry, your whole body feeling like it's about to sink into the mattress, a heavenly feeling. Carmy slowly moves slowly, you open your eyes as he moves on top you of. You crane your neck up to kiss him and he hesitates for a moment.

“Wanna taste myself,” You murmur softly. He lets out a groan and kisses you before you can even breath. Your hands move into his hair as he kisses you slowly and wetly, it's lewd and gentle at once.

Your hand moves between your bodies, lazily palming at Carmy. He pulls back from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“We don't have to..”

“I'm still awake,” You murmur softly, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “don't break your promise..”

He doesn't break it. 

You don't have your usual sense of urgency, he keeps his shirt on and your pajama top rides up over your chest. But it feels like a new level of intimacy as you wrap yourself around him, as he whispers in your ear that he needs you, he wants you, he won't ever mess up again.

He will, and you will, but in that moment you let the fantasy breathe. 

He moves slowly but deeply, each thrust hitting the spot perfectly. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Carmy's lips against yours, the perfect knot in your stomach that almost unravels, the belief he will stay.

 In the morning you don't have toast.

You are surprised with pancakes in bed. 

The news is on, but neither you nor Carmy pay attention, the pancakes half-eaten on the bed, a trail of clothes leading to the shower.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #the bear fic #smut #nonsense #men being shitty #but fucking cute

[byuntrash101]

damnation of a saint (teaser)

pairing — nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — ~13k (teaser is 1.2k)

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

release date — OUT!!! LINK HERE

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not described), also reader is the embodiment of purity and selflessness, 20240127 hwa (will to power d1 in seoul), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, tensionnnnn, sooo much teasing, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity = teasing + begging + mind breaking, some light impact play, breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim and more to be revealed in the full version <3

a/n: consider this teaser as the moodboard of the fic <3 also im so excited to be reworking on my fave fic ever. hope you enjoy it too <3

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Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step.  “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat” 

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results.  Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one” 

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying. 

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Mhm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud.

a/n: tell me if you wanna be tagged through comments or through asks <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

#seonghwa smut #ateez smut #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard hours #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #mingi #wooyoung #kpop smut #smut fanfiction #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

#long post #I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning #beauty and the beast #disney

[slayfics]

This is rlly angsty. Sooo what about muichiro in his afterlife meeting the reader, and the reader is still upset that he left her despite promising to stay with her? Make it have a happy ending please. Thank you!

You meet Muichiro in the afterlife.

As everything started to fade, you realized you weren't scared. You had lived a long enough life with the people around you, and you were more than ready to be reunited with your friends that had passed before you.

You'd miss your friends that you were leaving behind dearly, but you knew you'd be reunited with them at some point. Now it was time to move on from this life.

Everything was dark, but only for a while. A light started to grow but a veil of mist made it hard to decipher where you were.

Slowly, a silhouette started to appear. At first, it was unrecognizable, until you made out the flowing hair of an unmistakable person from your past.

Muichiro looked as beautiful as ever as he made his way through the mist to greet you.

As happy as you were to see him again, you couldn't help the anger that began to boil in your stomach. Muichiro had been taken from you so many years ago. It was unfair you didn't get to live this life alongside him. Why did he have to leave you?

The anger boiled up until it spilled over. You found yourself yelling at the Hashira.

"How could you have left me?! I lived all those years without you! It was torturous existing without you!" you cried and shoved Muichiro with both hands. The Hashira's expression did not change. He looked at you with the same loving expression as when he had first appeared, standing calmly and accepting your assaults.

"I visited your grave every day, but it wasn't the same. I needed you with me, and you left me!" you cried, collapsing onto the endless floor.

Muichiro sat beside you and pulled you into a hug.

"You visited me every day to share a meal with me, and I enjoyed every bite. You could not see me, but I was there. You were never alone," he said as you softened in his embrace. "I know my early departure hurt you. I can not make up for that, but if you would have me, I waited for you to walk into the next life together." It was then you felt his tears hit the top of your head. Muichiro was crying too.

Shame washed over you at your harsh greeting to the Hashira. You didn't mean to be so rough.

"I'm so sorry Muichiro... I just missed you beyond what I can express. There isn't anyone else I'd want to walk into the next life with," you said, nuzzling your head into his embrace.

Muichiro placed his hand under your chin and pushed your head up into a kiss.

"First, there are some people I would like you to meet," Muichiro responded. You looked off into the mist and saw three outlines approaching, one of which looked identical to Muichiro.

We love angst here! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy the fic! I have a few more thanks to give. Thank you to @plvuii for offering to proof read my writings. You’ve helped out this poor dyslexic writer more than you know! Please check her out she makes amazing fics of her own! A special thanks once again to @valartsstuff for allowing me to use her adorable artwork. Please check her out if you haven’t already, you’ll be doing yourself a favor hehe~

#kny x reader #kny x you #anime x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #anime x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x you #muichiro x reader #kny muichiro #muichiro x y/n #muichiro tokito #demon slayer muichiro #kny fanfic #kny hashira #kimetsu no yaiba hashira #demon slayer hashira #mist hashira #hashira x reader

[smuttykdrama]

[Suhyeok x Bully!Hambie!Gwinam's Sister!Reader / All Of Us Are Dead]

Warnings: NONCON (Well, sort of? Suhyeok's saying no but he actually wants it?), Female Reader, Sub!Suhyeok, Dom!Reader, Smut, Degrading.

(A/N): So i just finished AOUAD and hOLY FUCK i need more Suhyeok smut. I'm a massive fucking domme so had make this idea into a fanfic!! I might make a longer one tbh, like a book on wattpad or something haha. Anyways, filth under the cut!

"What are you smirking at, you brat, huh? Answer me.“

You moved like a predator, dangerous and calculating, and Suhyeok panted pathetically before you even touched him. You'd roughed him up a little so he was too exhausted to dare to escape your clutches.

“Nothing! None of your business, Yoon (Y/N)."

As defiant and brave as ever, Suhyeok wasn’t going to give himself up without a fight, even if he didn’t want to win that fight anyways. You'd found him alone in a classroom full of zombies, fighting for his life. Luckily, you were there to help him out of that sticky situation...and into another one. You and your psycho brother, Yoon Gwinam, had both turned into a Hambie. Conveniently, Gwinam told you that Suhyeok was yours, as long as he have Cheongsan to torment. Nightmare siblings, everyone called you.

"Lee Suhyeok. I saved you. How are you going to repay me, huh?"

You picked him up from the floor like he weighed nothing, ripping his blazer and shirt apart almost instantly, shocking him. A part of Suhyeok felt violated, but another part excited him. He'd hanged with the school bullies before, hence he knew you, and secretly liked you and your fierce attitude.

"Come on, thats enough, (Y/N). Let me go. I have to get back to the others."

Your eyes widened in anger.

"Say that again. I dare you. Do you know what fucking bullshit i had to go through to finally capture you?!"

Suhyeok accidentally moaned as you cornered him and tangled a hand in your hair, tugging on it. You basically hissed, nails leaving tracks across the tanned, unblemished skin of his chest. He gasped, attempting to push you away as you sucked on his neck harshly, making sure not to bite him...yet.

“Wha- (Y/N)..stop - nnghh..."

Suhyeok trailed off, groaning, his adams apple bobbing up and down as you traced his neck. It made you thirsty for more; to claim him as yours, to hurt him more. There was nothing more erotic than a strong fighter submitting to you completely, unable to defend himself from your advances. The truth is, ever since Suhyeok stopped talking to you, your brother and the other bullies, day by day you grew more frustrated with him. And his stupid bravery. The fact that he's not yours. That hes so perfect and good and distancing himself from you. From evil.

"Please, (Y/N). I have to help our classmates -"

Oh come on. Even when he was being violated like this, Suhyeok was thinking of others. At this point he knows he’s going to be punished for even believing that you were a nice person. Because you were a possessive freak. A weirdo. Someone who’s entire existence is frowned upon. If only he knew what it was like to be infatuated with someone until you’d either kill a person, or them.

SLAP.

“Don’t you get it? You’re mine. Stay out of everyone’s sight. Don’t touch them, talk to them, look at them, or even breathe in their direction. I'll kill you if you go back."

Before Suhyeok could say anything else, he choked on his next words as you peeled your panties off and picked him up, thrusting straight onto him, his cock completely filling you up. In that moment, he felt himself crumble in front of you. In this very moment, all Suhyeok wanted was to feel alive again. To forget about the damn zombies. You felt the sweet sting of him stretching you open, filling you to the brim and you know you’d never feel this with anyone else. No matter how shady and unethical and terrifying you were, Suhyeok knew you were not the kind of woman you find twice. 

“Are you fucking with me? You like this don’t you? You dirty little whore, Lee Suhyeok, enjoying being used by a filthy possessive girl like me. You want to be owned. Be thankful i haven't turned you already."

You weren’t taking your time, the way you’re fucking him into the wall—bucking your hips into his at a frantic pace and making him whine—it wasn’t for pleasure. No, he could tell by the way you’re keeping him close, not trying to change your angle to get deeper, that you wanted to possess him completely.

"Harder..."

He finally whispered, his eyes averting from your gaze as you fucked him into oblivion. The slapping of flesh was loud, and so was the sound of Suhyeok's ever so needy moaning. And your heavenly whimpers.

"(Y/N), fuck, im yours. I'm yours, so own me."

That's what you liked to hear.

[END]

#suhyeok #lee suhyeok #kdrama imagine #kdrama x reader #suhyeok x reader #suhyeok smut #suhyeok imagine #all of us are dead #all of us are dead imagine #all of us are dead x reader #all of us are dead smut #smut #dom!reader #sub!character #aouad #aouad x reader #aouad smut

[stardust-sprinkler]

“Bad boy who’s always good to his girl—”

Is very much how I view Touya in like a College!AU.

* Like he either despises or is apathetic to almost everything. 99.9% of people aren’t worth his time, existing power structures are corrupt and can suck his d!ck, society as a whole is the fucking worst.

* But to you? Devoted. Unashamedly. Just fully ready to flip someone the bird and walk away mid-sentence just because you finally showed up to the party.

* And like who’s gonna be stupid enough to make fun of how head over heels he is for you? Of Todoroki Touya?? Do they have a death wish??

* And we all know Touya has definitely started fights over you—he’s stepping back into the dorm lobby after a smoke break and some dude’s making you uncomfortable while you’re trying to fucking study… Our man is throwing punches first and asking questions second. Must’ve been a freshman, because pretty much everyone on campus knows who you belong to. 🤷🏼

* Touya definitely has your name somewhere in his sprawling tattoos and never fucking dreamed of getting a second helmet for his motorcycle until he met you.

* When he did meet you at a party, he knew within the hour that you were gonna be his. Never before in his life has he had trouble making up his mind, wasn’t gonna start now. Before you left with your friends, he’d told you to be ready for him to pick you up tomorrow night.

* Now, you’ve been dating for a while and he has no qualms about doting on you in public. He’s still stoic and expressionless as hell, but he’ll run his hand through your hair while you’re sitting at the coffee bar or press a soft kiss to your temple when you’re posted up in a corner of the library.

* Someone who had a bone to pick with him was stupid enough to crack a joke about how whipped he must be to act like this just for some pūssy… Touya came back 10 minutes later, courteously using his white shirt to wipe his bloody knuckles clean so he could go back to tracing patterns on your skin with the hand slung over your shoulder.

* As for a stunt that mysteriously never got pinned on anyone— There was one time, you were freaking out about an exam with a huge class % that you somehow forgot to study for. Well, it seems odd that the sprinkler system went off for the whole building for no discernible reason… You never asked him about it, just wrapped your arms around his waist that evening and whispered a quiet “Thank you” into his chest. His response was a noncommittal grunt and a tight squeeze before he pulled you into his room and locked the door for the night.

* He’s always painted his nails blue or black, but now he lets you choose the color and do it for him, while he’s just leaning over the cafeteria table and flipping through a text book.

* At some point, you have a few more drinks than usual at a party and when he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, you try to push him away, saying, “I already have a boyfriend, asshole—” before realizing it’s him and it’s the first time you ever hear him laugh laugh. Fast forward to when you’re back at your dorm, he’s going down on you for a whole hour. You thought that, after one o, he was gonna be done—but when you pushed him back a little to change positions, he swatted your hand away and growled that he wasn’t done eating yet. You’d just been such a good girl for him, knowing who you belonged to. You deserved a reward, of course.

* This man’s always touching you in some capacity—holding your hand, slinging his arm around your waist or over your shoulders, pulling you into his lap every chance he gets.

* You have a surplus of little gifts he gets you just because—knows you like crystals so he’ll just procure one from his pocket once in a while on a day when you’re really stressed. Not that you’ve ever asked him for one, or for the snacks he brings over when you’re finally done with your midterms. Even specialty items. Say you’re into something like dragons or (ironically) certain anime characters. Well, occasionally you’ll find tiny figurines or charm bracelets with them on it, just mysteriously left in your room. Eventually you have little collections and the corner of his lip twitches upward watching you fawn over each new gift (and then over him next).

* Any gallery installation or stage performance or capstone project or thesis defense— This man is sitting silently in the rows, wearing the proudest (albeit very small) smile the whole time.

* In turn, being someone who didn’t get enough attention/affection at home—when you get him something for no reason, or pull him tight to your side during movie night, or card your fingers through his hair with his head on your lap, or embarrassingly whoop and holler just because he got some kind of good news… You can see this man just melt for you. No one else would catch it, but his eyes soften and he huffs out a small sigh that even you can barely hear.

* Even worse, when he’s sure you’re too busy furiously thumbing through a stack of books for a research paper or too wrapped up scouring your annotated essay for errors to notice… he just basks in you. Looks at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars in the sky. So, you’re always caught off guard when he suddenly swings you over to straddle his lap and buries his face in your neck and stays there. You’re laughing and squirming, trying to get back to—something really important, babe—but he won’t let up and you inevitably have to just let him press languid kisses (and leave a hickey or two) along your collarbone until he’s satisfied. And THEN you can go back to what you were doing. (You make sure never to tell him it helps calm and refocus you. Lose your ability to fake complain about it? Not a chance.)

* He loves it when you play with his earrings or necklaces or rings when you’re curled up on the couch, just chatting. Makes his chest tight for some reason. Feels good. As for you, you love feeling his snakebites and tongue piercing when you kiss him—your brain short-circuits for a second everytime.

* Long story long, the resident bad boy on campus is smitten with you… And the rest of the world can go fuck itself.

(I have so many more College!Touya hcs—lemme know if y’all want some!)

#bnha #dabi #dabi hcs #touya todoroki #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #college au #mha touya #bnha touya #bnha au #bnha dabi #touya x you #dabi thirst #femme character #Bad Boy Who’s Always Good to His Girl

[uvobreakmylegs]

Burst

the fic I wrote for @hypnoswrites's birthday this year, who asked for a fic with Razor💜💜💜

demon!Razor x reader

Warnings: mentions of execution, mentions of torture, blood, death, gore

Word Count: 7.5k

The thin, sharp point of the sewing needle pierced through the soft cloth effortlessly, the thread attached to the end gliding through the small in the fabric until it snagged to a stop, unable to go any further once it had run out. Adjusting your grip on the cloth, the process was then repeated as you pushed the needle back into the fabric to complete the stitch, the thread gliding through once more. And so it went, stitch after stitch while a sleeve slowly began to form in your hands, the long bit of fabric becoming more recognizable as such when your thread pulled the pieces together in a tight seam.

The art of creating should be one that was satisfying. To take a lifeless piece of fabric and give it shape, give it a form that made it useful should be something that would make the creator proud. Not only that they had the skills to create clothing, but to also see the satisfaction of those who wore it once it was complete. The pay was well, yes, but to see someone happy with the work you had created was an added bonus. To see the happy smiles while they twirled around in your clothing, posing in front of the mirror and offering you words of praise. It was nice to know they appreciated your work, and with that, knowing that you offered something of value. While there would always be difficult and ungrateful customers, the ones that you had made happy were what drove you forward.

There was no satisfaction to be had in your work now.

You felt a bead of sweat beginning to run down your forehead, and you lifted up your arm to wipe it away, staying on constant alert so as to not allow anything to stain the fabric you now held as any imperfection would not be tolerated.

Time was growing short.

Day would come soon, and with it, your execution.

You shuddered as you continued to sew, trying to hurry as you continued to sew up the sleeve that lay in your lap. Sitting on the floor of a cold room at the top of a foreboding tower, there was fabric strewn all over the small area, both cut and uncut, all assembled into particular piles so you wouldn't need to go searching for them once you got to the other dresses.

'Other dresses'.

You bit your lip in frustration, knowing there was no way you'd even get that far.

Hours of work since you had been thrown in here, and there wasn't much to show for it: a bodice with one sleeve attached, another sleeve that was only half-finished and the beginnings of a skirt. Outside of the dress you were working on, the six others only existed as cut up pieces and were in no way presentable. And even with what you did have complete, it didn't account for the detail that the dresses were meant to have. Nor for the fact that you were meant to complete seven immaculate dresses before that door was opened again.

Seven gowns for the lordship's wife and their six daughters, to be made in the finest silks, embroidered and adorned with jewelry, all of which had been stuffed into the space you currently occupied. That was the feat that would save your life.

You knew that it was impossible.

No matter what skill you had when it came to your craft, there was no way for you to be able to complete seven gowns of high quality in the span of a single night. But you thought that perhaps if you were to make at least one of good quality, the lady and her daughters would be entranced enough that they would beg for the lord to spare your life so you could complete the rest. At least for a week. That would be all you needed to complete those gowns to their satisfaction, you were sure of it.

If you were granted that mercy, you could then use the time you had in finishing the other six gowns to earn the favor of those seven women and convince them to let you go free, and in that way, you could avoid the agonizing death of being tied up while the flames burned in a pyre beneath your feet.

But that wouldn't happen if you couldn't complete even one of them. If, when the tower door was opened again, they saw that it was only partially complete, you would be hauled off to the town square and set alight for everyone to see and gawk at.

No, that wouldn't be what happened first.

You had heard of what happened to others who had been accused of witchcraft: they were tortured for hours before their executions, regardless of whether they denied the accusation or not. And when they were brought before the public, they were paraded around so they could be abused further by way of the crowd throwing stones, mud and whatever else was on hand and easy to throw. Only then would the execution begin, a slow, painful process that began with heavy smoke that filled up your lungs and ended by being engulfed in flames.

The thought of all of that terrified you, and as you heard the bells of the church ring out the time of one o'clock in the morning, you were spurred to go faster. As fast as you were able to without your work coming out shoddy, at least.

There was some relief that hit you once the second sleeve was finished and you were able to begin stitching it onto the bodice. Once that part was fully finished, you would be able to continue your work on the skirt, and upon the completion of that, you could add in the details that would entrance the women who held your fate in their hands. Hopefully enough so that your failure to produce seven gowns would be forgiven.

It would be forgiven, you assured yourself. As long as you could complete the one, you could save yourself.

So you continued to toil away as the hour grew later and later.

When the second sleeve was firmly attached to the bodice, you were able to turn your attention to the skirt, continuing where you had left off earlier. Once the skirt was finished and attached to the rest, you would need to add in the detailing, you reminded yourself. The embroidery for the accents, as well as the jewels that were expected to complete the gown. All of that detailed work required time and couldn't be rushed.

Was completing even one possible?

You bit your lip again.

It would be fine, you told yourself. You could do this much.

You continued.

Once the skirt was finished and you began to attach it to the bodice, you heard the church bells ring out twice.

Two in the morning.

Dawn would come at six.

It would be fine. After the skirt was attached, you could spend the remaining four hours adding in the details. That was enough time to make the gown a thing of beauty.

You'd never done it in such a short amount of time but you could do it, you told yourself.

At the risk of your life being lost, you could do anything.

You continued stitching fast while doing your best to keep them from being sloppy, and while you did so, you glanced over to the multitude of threads and jewels that had been placed in here alongside the fabric, going over in your head which ones you would use and what design would work best with this particular gown. While you had time, you wished to get this part of the work done with so you could get to those important details. So you sped up just a little bit more.

Your haste was your undoing.

You stabbed your finger with the needle.

Crying out, you dropped the gown while you pulled your hand away, bringing it up to your face to inspect the damage. Already there was blood dripping down your finger, more than you would've expected. And before you could think to pull your hand away further, a single drop of the red liquid fell from your hand and down onto the gown on your lap.

No no no no no no no-!

The blood droplet landed right in the middle of the sleeve, spreading out as it soaked into the fabric. You jumped to your feet, holding the gown with one hand while you looked for something to use to wash the blood out. It was still salvageable.

Except you only realized now that they hadn't given you any food or water when they locked you in here, and you were so focused on completing your task that it hadn't crossed your mind before.

There was nothing you could do.

No, there needed to be something-!

In a move of panic, you rushed forward as you looked for anything, anything that could save the sleeve.

Your state of panic was so great that you didn't notice when the edge of the gown came far too close to a nearby candle. Only when you heard the fabric igniting followed by the unmistakable smell of smoke did you realize the awful blunder.

You could go up in flames before the morning even came.

The next moments were spent frantically as you beat the flames out of the gown with both hands. The fire was determined to spread quickly and the flames were hot against the aching skin of your palms, but the fire ultimately was put out as quickly as it had started. But that meant very little to you in that moment.

You held up the bottom of the dress, falling to your knees once you saw the extent of the damage. There was no salvaging the skirt; the flames had traveled too far, leaving the fabric burnt and curled on the edges. And what hadn't been affected by the flames had managed to get your blood on it, complementing the sleeve which now had a large red blot marring the center of it. You would need to replace both of them completely.

Hours worth of work now meant nothing, and you would need to start over if you wanted a chance of keeping your life. You let out a shaky breath as you went over in your head all that would need to be redone. Only the bodice and second sleeve were usable. You were back to only having a bodice and a sleeve done, and you would need to redo the other parts. That would take time.

Outside, you heard the church bells ring out three times.

Three in the morning.

Three hours until dawn. Only three hours.

You were doomed.

In that moment, you fell into despair.

You were reduced to a sobbing mess in the middle of that room, realizing that your bid to save yourself had failed. It was too late now to start over. You wouldn't be able to get even that single dress done, and when they opened that door to find you in the middle of your half-finished project that was partially burnt, you would burn as well.

The lord had also told you that if you didn't produce the dresses, the punishment you would receive would be harsher than it would have originally, as he had no desire for you to waste either his time or that of his wife and daughters. All of them would be angry.

The horrors of torture would be worse. The pain would be worse. All of it would be worse.

And with you still trapped in that room with no way of getting past that locked door on your own, you found yourself begging for someone to help you. For someone to appear and take you away from this awful place, to save you from that horrific fate.

Please, you thought to yourself while you cried, clutching the ruined dress up to your face while the blood from your injured finger had finally staunched.

Please let someone save me from this.

I'll do anything

That heroic character who saw the truth of the situation and keep you from harm refused to appear, and you stayed where you were, unable to cease your tears at the hopelessness of everything. You were barely able to note when you heard the rain from the outside begin to hit the roof above you, starting out as a drizzle before becoming stronger, pattering against the tile of the roof.

But after a few moments, you noticed the next change faster: inexplicably, the room became cold. All of the heat that had built up from the many candles was gone, and you were suddenly shivering against the stone floor, your clothes and the fabric beneath you offering little protection.

Immediately recognizing that as strange, you pulled your head back up, wiping away a few stray tears as you looked about, uncertain as to what could have caused the change in temperature to be so drastic.

“Am I right in assuming that the pyre outside is meant for you?”

The male voice that spoke into your ear had you screeching as you scurried forward, crawling away on all fours before you reached the wall and turned to see who had managed to sneak up on you.

It turned out to be a man, one who was currently crouching down next to where you had been sitting moments before. A guard? Given his size and his build, he certainly could have been. But no. Based on the slightly tattered clothing he wore, he didn't look like one of them. At the moment it seemed more likely that the purple-haired man sitting before you was a prisoner like yourself. But he hadn't been in here before. You'd been alone for hours now.

You glanced to the door, expecting to see it open. Yet it was still shut tight, and you got the feeling that if you were to try again to push it open, you would be met with a solid resistance, the wood that made up the door far stronger than yourself.

How had he entered without you noticing?

Your attention was brought back to the man when he spoke to you again, a friendly smile on his face as he asked “well? Am I right?”

Despite your confusion as to how he had suddenly appeared, you decided it would be best to answer the man seeing that you were locked in a room with him. So after staying quiet for a few moments, you nodded.

He hummed.

“You must be accused of something awful, then. People aren't burned for just anything,” the man said, settling down on the floor in a seated position.

Instead of elaborating on why you were to be executed, you asked “who are you? How did you get in? Why are you here?”

He didn't give you the courtesy of an answer to any of your questions; instead he chuckled at you. It certainly felt as though he was amused by your frantic state, and that only had you feeling worse about him.

“Why are you here?!” you repeated.

He motioned for you to shush.

“You should keep your voice down,” he told you, “that guard outside is asleep for now, but that might not be the case for long if you keep going like that.”

There was sense in his words, and you quickly glanced back over to the door, worried at the possibility of any movement behind it. Both you and the mystery man would be in trouble should he be discovered in here with you, and no doubt he would suffer for attempting to help you escape.

…. Was that even what he was here to do?

You looked back to the man, uncertain of what to make of him.

You still couldn't fathom how he had gotten in without either you or the guard outside noticing, and you were at a loss as to why he was here at all. But he was right that you should keep your voice down.

Sensing that you were in a calmer state, he spoke again.

“To start with your first question, my name is Razor,” he said, adding “I don't think the answer to your second question is as interesting as you might expect.”

Razor settled himself further, leaning against the wall as he continued with “as for the third, I'm only here because you called for me.”

Called for….?

You realized what he was speaking of. The desperate plea of yours that was going through your head moments ago. Had you been speaking out loud when you said that? How could he have even heard that?

“You heard that?” you asked.

“Barely,” he answered, “you were lucky. You happened to ask at the right time and I happened to be around.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you wondered what the time had to do with anything.

Razor continued before you had the chance to ask, saying “now that I've answered those questions of yours, how about you answer mine?”

“… On if the pyre is meant for me?”

“What else?”

You looked down to the floor, your eyes ending up on the burnt and bloody gown that sat between the two of you as you quietly nodded.

“Yes, it's for me.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“I've been accused of witchcraft.”

He didn't seem all that surprised by your answer. His eyes went to the gown as well before they examined the rest of the materials in the room. At the sight of him glancing around, you noted something: Razor's eyes were unusually dark. No, not just dark. The irises were pitch-black.

Was Razor even human?

The thought was unexpected but the explanation made sense of certain things if true. Such as how he had appeared out of nowhere, or how he could have heard that desperate plea for help – that when you thought about it more, you were certain you hadn't said that aloud. Though the fear from earlier settled into you once more at this realization. How could you be sure that Razor was benevolent?

Spirits and fae were spoken of in whispers and tall tales, and usually done so with no small amount of fear. It was well known that most otherworldly beings didn't care much for the likes of humans, and most stayed away from the places humans had settled into, keeping to their places in nature that humans couldn't get to. And when an unlucky human did come across the path of one of those beings, the story would usually end in tragedy, with that person disappearing completely or their brutalized remains being discovered some time later.

If you disappeared right now no one would care

The depressing thought that came through was unhelpful and you told yourself to stop.

Then came Razor's next question.

“Why were you accused?”

You sat up more, trying to adjust your posture. He didn't comment on it, but you were worried you might have offended him with the way you ran from him earlier.

“A ship sank during a storm,” you told him.

At that, Razor actually seemed puzzled as he asked “a sunken ship? That's what this is about? Surely the people here would be aware that such things are common. What did the survivors say?”

You lowered your head as you said “there were no survivors.”

“None?”

You shook your head.

“There were witnesses who said they saw the crew trying to swim to shore, but that all eventually vanished beneath the water. Some claimed that they saw white hands pulling them under. The accounts of those witnesses led everyone to believe that the sinking was the work of something evil, and then one of the village women came forward to say she saw me orchestrating the whole thing on a hill near the bay.”

“So you're here because you were careless.”

“No!”

You leaned forward on your hands as you exclaimed “I had nothing to do with any of that! I was just as horrified at what happened as anyone else! My only crime was that I watched the ship as it sank. I had no power at all in that situation!”

It was after your outburst that you remembered to keep your voice down, and you slapped a hand over your mouth as you once again looked to the door.

Mercifully, nothing came from it.

“I'm sorry,” you said a moment later.

Luckily for you, he nodded as he said “it's alright. It's quite understandable why you would react that way, given what you're facing.”

How odd that you felt a tiny bit better just from hearing that. It did nothing to change what you were going through, but just that little bit of empathy gave you a small peace of comfort. The words he said next did as well.

“For what it's worth, I believe you,” Razor said.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” you answered.

“I take it no one else did?”

You shook your head, saying “I only arrived a fortnight ago in search of work. No one here knows me.”

“So you were selected because you were the outsider.”

You nodded.

“Well, that explains what I saw outside,” Razor began. Then he looked about the room as he continued with “but I would like to know what exactly is going on with all of this.”

You sighed.

“A last-ditch effort to save myself,” you answered sadly, explaining as you said “the lord of the castle gave me one night before the execution after I told him I would make his wife and daughters fine gowns in exchange for my freedom.”

“How many?”

“Seven.”

“You set yourself up for failure,” Razor said bluntly.

“I knew that I could never make seven in one night,” you told him, “but I thought that if I could make at least one, they would allow me more time to make the rest, and from there I might secure my freedom.”

Razor said nothing before he looked down at the burnt and bloody dress that lay before him. In particular, he seemed focused on the smears of blood that had marred the fabric, and when he looked back up to you, his gaze went to the finger you had accidentally stabbed with the needle.

“Clearly, that plan failed,” he said.

You hung your head low as you admitted “it probably wasn't going to work at all. Even if I finished that one, it likely wouldn't be acceptable. All of this was just a desperate effort to push off the inevitable for as long as I could.”

Glancing back up at him, you then asked “unless you have some way for all of them to be done by the morning.

Razor gave you a flat look as he said “do I look like I know anything about making dresses?”

“…. I suppose not.”

The cold was beginning to bother you more now, and you wrapped your arms around yourself in an effort to retain some heat. You noted that the rain was coming down harder now, the water striking the roof with more force than the simple drizzle from before. Maybe that would push off your execution, you idly thought. If the wood was too wet to set alight, you might live longer than you anticipated. Though it would likely do nothing to save you from the torture. If anything, it would prolong it. You shuddered.

Razor was quiet, his gaze on you while he seemingly evaluated you.

He came to you because he had heard your cry for help, didn't he? Did he intend to help you, or was he only here to witness your misery up close?

You wouldn't know until you asked.

“I know you said how you got in wouldn't be interesting to me,” you began, “but… Would it be possible for you to take me out the way you got in?”

“No.”

The blunt answer was unexpected, and you looked back up as you blinked in surprise.

“Oh.”

Your voice was shaky now, and you were barely able to breathe out the words “why did you come here, then?”

“I was curious,” he answered.

…. Curious.

That was all. He saw the scene outside in the nearby village and wanted to know what that was all about. Now he knew, and he likely wouldn't stay around for much longer. And unless the rain delayed the execution, by noon tomorrow you would be sent up to the sky in a plume of darkened smoke.

Your fate was sealed.

With that realization, your spirit broke for the second time that night and you began to sob, overcome with grief while you curled into yourself with your head in your hands, tears obscuring your vision. The rain outside was beginning to come down harder, and in one spot of the room, a bit of the water was beginning to drip onto the pile of fabrics, but you were too distraught to notice.

“Why are you crying?”

Razor sounded genuinely confused when he asked that a moment later.

After a few moments of trying to compose yourself, you shakily answered “I-I'm really go-going to die tomorrow.”

“Why are you so certain of that?”

“Because you can't help me,” you answered just as your mind began going wild with many terrible thoughts.

You'll be cut up and stuck like a pig. Burning coals placed in and against you. Whipped until the skin of your back was raw and bloody. Placed inside horrific devices that would make you yearn for death.

The fire will be a mercy

Razor hadn't said anything, and with the way you held your head in your hands, you were too scared to look up, afraid that when you looked over to him again, you would find that he was gone, no longer interested in your particular set of unfortunate circumstances. Or perhaps he had never been there. Perhaps your mind had broken and you had made up a figure you could talk to, one who was willing to believe your side of the story and offer even the smallest bit of comfort but that the delusion was only able to go so far, only last so long before you realized what your mind was doing.

It was bitterly cold in that tower now, the many candles placed around the room doing nothing to keep you warm.

Then, above the sound of the rain, you heard movement in the room. That of someone climbing to their feet.

You didn't look up.

The footsteps you heard after were muffled by the way they stepped on the ruined gown and the other materials still strewn about the floor, but you heard the way someone came closer to you.

That someone then knelt down in front of you.

…. It sounded real. And you could sense that there was a person sitting in front of you, feel just how close they were to you.

Was Razor real? But if he was, why was he still here?

A large form suddenly overtook yours, and you gasped as two strong arms wrapped around your back and pulled you in close. Your head shot back up in time to see that it was Razor; he was still in here with you, and upon feeling his touch, you found that he wasn't any sort of hallucination. Without a word, he pulled you up from where you were curled against the wall and against his chest.

Razor was holding you.

Outside, the rain began to come down even harder, the sounds of the multitude of droplets descending from the heavens far more audible now on the stone tiles.

“Tell me,” Razor said, “what do you want?”

“… What I want? Why does that matter?” you asked.

“Because I'd like to hear.”

“Why?”

“Just tell me,” he said.

It was strange. Why was he interested in any of this? Why did he care enough about you to ask? What did he get out of it?

…. Who really cared if you were going to die soon?

Taking ahold of his shirt, you leaned your head against his chest as you answered “All I want is for them to not hurt me.”

Razor was quick to ask “and by 'them', you mean the inhabitants of this castle and the village beyond?”

You nodded.

“Say it aloud,” he ordered.

“Say what?”

“Say that you want me to save you from those people.”

“Why?”

“Because that's the only way I can save you.”

“….. You want to save me?”

“I do.”

Razor clutched you tighter as he continued with “so say it. Say that you want to be saved from all those who would wish you harm.”

Was that truly all it would take?

You questioned it in your mind for only a moment, as you were quickly reminded of what would happen once the guard came to collect you. Torture and death. Undignified, humiliating and painful. All before an uncaring crowd who only came to your execution so they could have an outlet for their anger at the previous tragedy or simply for the entertainment of watching you die.

You weren't going to go through that. You refused. You had done nothing wrong and you didn't deserve a fate like that.

“Please, Razor,” you whispered, “save me from all of them.”

The unexpected happened once again when Razor leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. But you were given no chance to question that as you heard when the rain outside manage to come down even harder.

Then came the sound of thunder, a deep rumbling that shook the very foundations of the tower you sat inside. It almost sounded like the growling of an animal. The winds were picking up as well, whistling past the castle and through the buildings of the village beyond, forcing open the doors and shutters that had not been properly bolted shut. In the distance, you could hear a single voice exclaim in surprise.

A lightning bolt struck.

One that was so close and so bright that you could see the light that came from it beneath the door of your cell. The thunder that accompanied it was even louder than the rumbling before, and you pulled your hands away from Razor's shirt to cover your ears while the entire building shook violently.

Even with the protection over your ears, you heard as the guard outside was startled awake as he fell from his seat, calling out in shock.

More voices called out in the distance, sounding less surprised and more frightened.

And then the hail came.

It started off the same way the rain had, falling innocently upon the roof. The small pellets bounced off harmlessly, clinking against the tiles. But just like the rain, they began to come down harder, and the longer they fell, the more of them began to batter against the roof with even more force.

The guard outside left his post, hurriedly running down the stairway.

The hail came down stronger still, and you unintentionally whimpered, the noises from the outside worrying you the longer they went on.

Razor spoke then.

“You'll be fine. Just wait for it to be over,” he told you.

Something crashed into the room.

You snapped your head over to where the sound had come from, only to find that several of the candles had gone out. The howling wind was easier to hear now, as was the ever present thunder. And, while it was harder to make out now, you thought you heard similar crashing noises coming from outside the door, as well as voices that screamed out in response.

More objects crashed into your cell, and within moments all of the candles had been snuffed out. Now you were in the dark, the only bit of light coming from the lighting that raced across the sky above the tower.

You kept your hands over your ears while you cowered against Razor. He continued to hold you, and you felt him shift around you, positioning himself so that he shielded you from the worst of the storm that got in through the holes in the roof.

In the chaos that the storm brought in and around the castle, it took you some time to notice that the figure you were huddling against seemed…. Different. The body positioned above you felt larger, the muscled arms felt stronger than before and at the ends of his fingers, you felt claws that lightly pressed into your skin through the fabric of your clothing.

Even though you knew you would see very little if you tried to look up at what exactly was shielding you, you kept your eyes squeezed shut, too afraid that you would see something you shouldn't.

How you eventually fell asleep during that ordeal you would never know.

Droplets of water landing on your cheek were what roused you from sleep, and while at first you mindlessly brushed them away, once you to fully regained consciousness you shot up into a sitting position, remembering the storm of the previous night while you took in the state of the room.

It was in shambles. Ruined fabric strewn everywhere, jewels and threads scattered about, the door now hanging open on one hinge and a multitude of holes punctured through the ceiling, allowing in the dripping water and small streams of sunlight. Many of the jewels had been broken to pieces, torn apart by some unknown force. And after moving a sheet of fabric that you noticed had a hole in it, you found that whatever had pierced it had also gone straight through the floor beneath it.

Yet you were unharmed, and currently you were laying on top of your unfinished projects, a few of the larger pieces sliding off of you that seemed to have been placed on top of you while you had been asleep.

….. You'd been asleep. And you had been that way for quite a while, judging by what you could see of the sun through the roof.

No one had come for you?

You then looked to the door, and then realized that what you were seeing was wrong. Why had it been left open? Who had wrenched it open in such a way that it had been damaged?

Where was the guard? Where was the lord and his wife?

Where was Razor? Not here, that was certain.

Quietly, you pulled yourself to your feet before you approached the open door, keeping your footsteps light as you tried to listen for anyone who might be coming your way.

You heard no one.

And after exiting your makeshift cell and finding your way to the stairs, you stopped when you came to a small window, looking out at the village beyond. Even with the distance, you could see that the village had sustained just as much damage as the castle, if not more. And perhaps it was only because of that distance, but you couldn't hear any activity coming from there. No sounds of any villagers either attempting repairs or to go on with their workday as best they could. All of it was silent except for the distant sound of the waves from the nearby sea.

You continued going down.

The first person you found was a guard at the bottom of the spiral stairway, stiffly splayed out at the bottom of the steps, weapon still in hand. You didn't need to get close to see that he was dead. When you saw him first you stopped, not wanting to get any closer. The markings you could see on his armor and body worried you. But if you wanted to leave the tower, you needed to step over him. After a few moments of gathering up your courage, you descended again. Once you got closer was when you discovered the cause of his death:

Holes.

Dozens of holes that ranged in size were all over that had punctured through his body. The majority of them had struck him in the back, though when you carefully stepped around him, you saw that there had been a few that had struck him up top through the head and shoulder. He'd been standing when he was first hit, and whatever had pierced him had continued to do so until the storm had ceased. No doubt he had been dead long before then.

The thought of 'what could cause such a thing' was a brief one – you quickly caught sight of the hailstones that still littered the ruined hall, and you noted a few that were colored red, matching the blood that had oozed out of the guard's puncture wounds.

The hail had been strong enough to pierce through the roof, you remembered. If it had no issue with that feat, it had no issue going through human flesh.

How many others had died?

You began to wander the halls, stepping over hailstones and pieces of the castle that had crumbled in the storm's wake. Soon enough you were stepping over bodies as well, all of whom were in a similar condition as the guard you had first seen. You found other guards. Then servants. Then nobles. You recognized two of the lordship's daughters, both huddled together beneath a barely upright table, their desperate attempt at shelter failing miserably as the hailstones slowly melted into the blood around them.

All of them with riddled with holes.

No one had survived. No one other than you.

…. You needed to leave.

If anyone from the outside discovered this scene and found you the sole survivor, you would be questioned as to how you of all people had lived. That ran the risk of receiving more accusations and death sentences if you couldn't come up with a good explanation. No, it was better to take whatever food you could find in the kitchens and then travel as far away as you could for a fresh start.

No one needed to know the truth.

You only payed attention to the structure of the castle from then, limiting your attention to the bodies of the dead to brief glances. Some of the damage to the walls had been extreme enough that you feared parts of them could come crumbling down. Even more reason to leave this place.

The kitchen wasn't hard to find, situated at the lowest level of the building. There were bodies within that room as well, but you kept your focus on the contents of the room, immediately going to scavenging for the food that was still edible. A loaf of bread and a few apples were quickly placed into a bag you found nearby that appeared to be in good shape, and you slung the bag over your shoulder as you began a search for water. You wanted to make as much distance between yourself and the castle, so you wanted enough food and water to last you for a few days. If all went well, you would have found somewhere else to stay by then. Where that would be exactly or what you would be doing, you had no clue, but you would deal with that when the time came.

Catching sight of the closed door of a storage room, you began to make your way there.

Only you noticed the body that lay just before it.

Another servant, this time a man, who had been filled with holes like the rest. Only the state this particular body was in was different from the others you had seen. Parts of him were missing. Specifically one of his arms and pieces of his legs that had been torn away. With the way the meat of his flesh had been torn off, it almost looked as though an animal had gotten to this one.

What sort of animal could devour an entire arm and leave nothing behind?

Something snapped in half behind the storage room door.

You took a few steps back as your attention was now there, listening as a sickening noise echoed within the confines of that room. Another snap like that of a bone, and then the sound of tearing, like tough meat being ripped apart. A loud chewing sound followed, accompanied by unearthly grunting. And then a crunching noise that followed sounded as though whatever was in there had just broken a bone with the strength of it's jaw alone.

…. There very well could have been the remains of some large animal within that room, one that had been hunted the day prior.

But taking another look at the man who lay in the middle of the kitchen floor and the state he was in, the missing arm and the state of his legs, and you found yourself having a hard time believing that whatever was in there was feasting on a mere animal.

Leave now.

Before it turns it's attention on you. The water can wait.

With that, you held tightly onto your bag of food as you turned and swiftly made your way to the door that lead outside. You'd taken hold of the handle and you were about to pull it open when-

Stop

A voice that reverberated in your head made you freeze, and despite your best efforts to break free, you were petrified to that spot, still tightly gripping the handle of the door that lead the way to freedom.

Why couldn't you move?

The door to the storage room creaked open and you felt your blood freeze, your breathing coming in heavy as you were certain that whatever that thing was that was now coming out was going to kill you-!

Instead of a beast-like creature that you anticipated charging at you, footsteps sounded against the floor. They were coming towards you and you felt an odd feeling of deja vu.

“Ready to leave, I see.”

You recognized that voice.

And as soon as those words were spoken, you had control of your body again, allowing you to look over your shoulder to the figure who now stood behind you.

It was Razor.

He smiled at you and placed a comforting hand upon your shoulder as he said “forgive me for leaving you by yourself like that. You seemed like you needed the rest and I thought I'd take a look around before we left.”

“…. Before we left?” you repeated, asking “I'm going with you?”

“It's a fair trade for saving your life, don't you think?” he asked in return.

You looked about the room again, focusing on the hail that had managed to make it's way down there and the bodies within that were just as battered as the ones on the levels above. Everyone within the castle was dead. And then you remembered that the village was in the same state, if not worse. At this point there seemed to be little doubt that anyone there had managed to survive.

“You did all this?” you asked. You felt the horror in your own expression, that Razor was capable of so much destruction.

He raised an eyebrow at you, asking “why do you care? These people would have happily killed you if not for me.”

He misunderstood what you meant, but you weren't given any chance to explain yourself as he wrapped a hand around your shoulder and pulled you close.

“I'll protect you,” Razor said, “and all you need to do in exchange is follow my every order. That doesn't sound bad, does it?”

His black eyes were staring down at you again. Staring at you, daring you to disagree with him.

Do what he wants, your mind told you. And since your voice currently couldn't work, you gave a small shake of your head to answer 'no', that it didn't sound bad.

The fact that you felt otherwise was besides the point.

Razor smiled at you, and the squeeze of your shoulder that accompanied that indicated that he was pleased with you.

“We should get going,” he then told you. He pulled you away from the door and took the handle, opening it for you. You wanted to ask where you were going, but you still couldn't find your voice. When he held the door open and looked at you, you followed his silent order and walked out the door, clutching the bag of food while you kept your gaze on the ground in front of you. Razor was soon leading you through the desecrated courtyard, making sure you were never too far away from him.

And as he took you through the castle gate, you wondered just what sort of future was in store for you. Your gaze went back to the man – spirit? Demon? – as you wondered what fate was in store for you now that Razor controlled it.

#reader insert #yandere x reader #razor x reader #yandere razor #hxh razor #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere hxh #hxh x reader