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#under mysterious circumstances and it was covered up
flamingthespian · 4 months
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Idea: Sebastian is trans, Sam and Sebastian are dating and have been since before seb came out, which happened while kent was deployed. So when kent left for war he knew his teenage son had a “girlfriend,” and when he comes back, his young adult son now has a boyfriend, and he doesn’t realize it’s the same person, so he’s like, “why did Sam never write to me about breaking up with that girl or coming out as queer and starting to date this guy,” and doesn’t understand why Sam’s new boyfriend that he’s never met is acting somewhat familiar with him
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i don't know if the "true crime podcasters making jokes and calling their listeners their little murder babies or whatever" joke is real or not and at this point im too afraid to ask
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holybibly · 2 months
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𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 | 𝔚𝔬𝔬𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯
𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: smut, Priests!AU
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 9,9k
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is said: "The best way to get forgiveness for sins is to repent." Priest Wooyoung will tell you how to do this.
𝔚𝔄ℜ𝔑ℑ𝔑𝔊: Priest!Wooyoung, Hierophilia, church sex, religion kink, dirty talk, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play. spanking, fingering, orgasm delay, overstimulation, dom/sub and more.
𝔄/𝔑: And so it is that I have come to please you with something wicked. I don't know why I get so inspired, but I don't care. My opinion is that Priest Wooyoung is hot as hell, that's all. There will probably be another work released this weekend, but I won't tell you what it is. Of course, the unholy hours are available as usual. It's time to repent for the sins, bunnies, and, as the saying goes, Hell's empty, all demons outside.
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You have never thought of yourself as a religious person, not under any circumstances whatsoever. You never knelt down in front of your bed, covered your eyes with trembling eyelids, and whispered softly, "Hail Mary,"  before you went to sleep in your cold and lonely bed. 
Never asking God's mercy and forgiveness, you were as far from faith and piety as you could be. The last time you had been to church was years ago, when you came to communion with one of your distant relatives.   The feeling was all too familiar, yet as alien as the shattered fragments of a mysterious dream you remembered having long ago. You walked slowly up the rain-slicked stone steps of your hometown's old church, as smooth and dreary as the weather today. The thin branches of the dead trees, devoid of the usual green foliage you knew wrapped around them at the beginning of each spring, reached up to the sky as if in prayer—brittle and outstretched—like the hands of a sinner. 
"What am I doing here?" You asked yourself as you wrapped yourself more tightly in your soft cashmere coat and let out a convulsive sigh.
You didn't know how to answer that, and you couldn't seem to find the right one. That place... it seemed to call your name, and you couldn't resist the mysterious magnetism. The church was old and gloomy—the kind of church that people do not tell you the most pleasant stories about. Your eyes wandered over the faded, dark boards and the pointed spire, topped by a crooked, spiky cross that looked almost sinister as the rain swirled around it. The place had an air of desolation about it, and for a moment, you wondered if it was haunted. 
It was the same church that your mother had gone to when she was a child, always dressed in her most beautiful clothes and with ribbons of silk woven into her hair. 
"Did this place always look as spooky as it does now?" you asked her once. 
The cold wind whipped through your long hair as you pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the church and made your way in. The rusty metal hinges sobbed pitifully at the sound of your action. The inside of the church was musty and smelled of incense, and visually, it was the same as millions of other churches: furnished with rows of wooden pews, with dusty Bibles lying in compartments attached to the backs of the pews. Narrow Gothic windows, decorated with the faces of sexless angels, stretched up to a vaulted ceiling.
There was no one there, which was what you would have expected, considering that there were only a few cars in the car park when you arrived here. You felt stupid for being here, completely unaware of what the purpose of your visit was in the first place.
The echo of your footsteps on the dark, faded midnight-blue velour floor was the only sound in the church. As you walked towards the back of the church, where the neatly decorated altar stood, your fingertips glided weightlessly along the cool edges of the old pews. Dark and full of suffering, the heavy crucifix hung over the altar like an unbearable sacred burden. There was a small confessional not too far from it.
One day, when you were a little girl, your grandparents took you to the church and insisted that you have a confession of your sins. Sitting behind the curtain, you felt so grown up; the small room seemed so much larger in comparison to your petite body. With your head bowed, you solemnly told the priest that you sometimes took a few extra biscuits when your mother wasn't looking, and he, in turn, instructed you to recite the Hail Mary a few times.
As you approached the confessional, you lazily tugged at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the faded fabric, which was worn in places. You wondered what sins you could repent of now; you didn't often reflect on what you'd done or seek forgiveness, at least not from an all-powerful divine being you weren't even sure existed. You opened the curtain and jumped at the sharp sound of metal rings as they scratched against the beam on which it was hung. The inside of the cabin was dark, and there was a smell of dust in it. You coughed and breathed in the small particles that stuck to your tongue in an unpleasant way.
"Hello, my dear."
You jumped at the slight echo of the soft, melodic voice that came from behind the metal bars of the confessional. Leaning against the door, you pressed a hand to your chest, feeling your fast heart pound. Squinting, you hoped to get a better look at the dark figure of the priest on the other side.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." You said it quietly. "I... I was just lookin' around."
"You're new, right?" The voice was beautiful; with every vowel the person formed, you could hear some kind of melody, low and languid, almost seductive, and you suddenly realised that your hands were covered with goose bumps. Was the temperature in the little cabin any cooler than it was in the rest of the church? You couldn't be sure, but you found yourself unconsciously pulling the tails of your coat closer to your body.
Intrigued by the man on the other side of the small grate, you took a step further into the small room and looked around.
"Something like that."
"You don't come to places like this very often?" The voice made more of a statement than a question.
"No." You agreed with it. "I can't remember when I've been to church lately." You whispered in reply, so quietly that you could hardly be heard.
Silence fell between you, and, not quite understanding what you'd done, you reached out and pulled the curtain, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal bars, you saw a slender man's figure and carefully sat down on the velvet bench.
"So why did you come here today, then?" The priest asked, although there was something in his tone of voice that told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all this small talk a normal part of confession?
"I... I'm not really sure, just an instinct." You crumpled the soft fabric of your cloak between your fingers, growing more nervous with every second of the small talk between you and the mysterious priest.
"I understand, of course." He replied with a note of familiarity, as if he heard the same thing every day of his life.
Feeling even more insecure than before, you raised an eyebrow and shifted into the uncomfortable seat beneath you. There was something special about this priest, but you couldn't put your finger on what it was.
"Is something bothering you, dear?"
You bit your lower lip as you tried to process what he said. Was something gnawing at you? Was there something that was bothering you to such an extent that you were beginning to feel pangs of conscience? Deep down inside of you, in the depths of your mind, where you didn't dare to go?
"Maybe?" You finally managed to say it, but it sounded more like a question. Your whole body was on edge, and you couldn't understand why it was so. You weren't afraid, no, but there was definitely a sense of something out of the ordinary. Something that was forbidden.
"You've been doing a lot of thinking lately, haven't you?" The man asked you a question, and all of a sudden you found yourself with your eyes half closed in bliss as you enjoyed the silky texture of his voice. It sounded like an angel was singing, but with a dark undertone. "You have been asking yourself questions, perhaps even too alarming ones."
You nodded weakly in acknowledgement of his words; despite the barrier between you, he seemed to be aware of your silent response.
"You're afraid you're bad." He said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing at the last two words, there was a hint of mockery in the tone of his voice.
Hearing him say that made your mouth dry up and you coughed slightly, trying to clear your throat.
"Holy Father, what makes you say things like that?"
"Are not all of us afraid of something like this at some point in our lives? We are afraid of ourselves, afraid of our sinfulness."
There was a blink of confusion on your face, a complete bewilderment at the strange turn this conversation had taken. And yet, somehow, you felt compelled to go on and hear more.
His voice dropped to a hoarse, velvety whisper that sent waves of heat down the length of your spine and caused you to squirm in your seat. Was this how you were supposed to feel at this moment?
"Let me tell you a little secret, dearie."
"I-am I listening?" Your heartbeat quickened as a single streak of pale light fell on the man behind the small bars, and for a moment you saw a dark, fox-like eye.
"We are all bad men. Every single one of us."
A shiver ran down your entire body, and you could feel the stuffy air in the confessional getting hotter and hotter.
"Even you, dearest child." He moved closer to the mesh holes in the barrier that separated the two of you, and you could make out the shape of his lips, diabolically curved and full. "Especially you."
"F-Father…"
"Wooyoung." He fixed you. "My name is Wooyoung. "
You repeated his name softly, sliding your tongue over each letter; your voice was barely above a whisper, but you could hear the man inhale sharply as his name came out of your lips. His name was sinful and sweet, almost wicked, like a serpent that tempts you to do the most evil of deeds. This man cannot be a priest at all. But if he was not a priest, who was he then?"
"You are," he began, and you could almost feel the smirk on his beautiful lips as he spoke. "Very naughty girl.
Oh, my God. This wasn't really happening. Was it? No, he couldn't have meant it. He was a priest, for God's sake.
"And what is your suggestion that I should do about it?" You asked shyly, looking down at the palms of your hands, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your nails had dug themselves into the damp skin. You couldn't see Wooyoung, but you were sure that the look in his eyes would be nothing less than piercing and malicious. "Should I say the Hail Mary several times? Pray for atonement for what I have done? You haven't even told me why it is you think I'm a sinner."
He let out a dark, dry chuckle, and you heard a muffled sound as you guessed that the palms of his hands were making hard contact with his thighs.
"Shall I show you?"
"Show me what?" Your eyes narrowed and a strange sense of anticipation began to well up inside you.
"How do I have the knowledge that you are a sinner?"
You chewed on your lower lip in thought, and then you cleared your throat with a kind of self-assured finality.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"All right. But I'm beginning to think that you're a little overconfident." You added that last part in an attempt to lessen your sense of vulnerability in front of this man. You had doubts that anything would change, but something told you that you would need all the confidence you could have.
Hearing your words, his hand reached out and pressed against the grating metal, and he let out a low purr. Up close, you could see the prominent veins that ran down Wooyoung's slender hand, his long fingers adorned with a number of expensive rings, and you tried desperately to suppress a certain feeling that threatened to force itself upon you.
"Go on, touch; don't be afraid." He called to you, and you stretched out obediently, repeating what he said, carefully placing your fingertips on the grating's metal.
Instantly, your entire world was enveloped in a bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head, you saw clear images of unspeakable darkness, depravity, and longing. You recognised them as your dreams, as fleeting thoughts that you tried to push away, as shadows that danced on the walls of your bedroom in the late hours of the night. All of these images had been ripped right out of your mind.
You jerked your hand away from him as if it had been burned, and you cried out in pity as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked and suddenly found yourself back in the dark confessional, multi-coloured spots dancing in front of your eyes as if they were mocking you and your mind.
"What the hell was that?" You wanted your voice to be aggressive and forceful, but the words sounded weak and pathetic as soon as they left your soft lips.
"You see?" The coldness in his voice burned like a fire within you.
"Those... those are not my thoughts." You murmured in fear as the confessional seemed to grow colder and colder by the second. "They were not in mine."
Were they?
Now you could see your own breath steaming, and in one quick, desperate movement, you rushed to the curtain, tore it aside, and stepped into the light. As soon as you were out of the stall, you slumped limply into the front pew of the church, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
There was a rustling sound in the cabin before the door on the priest's side of the room opened slightly, and a man stepped out of the darkness—Wooyoung. He was of average height and was dressed entirely in black, like a second skin, with the exception of a crisp white collar. His black hair flowed like silk down to his sharp jaw line and framed the chiselled features of his face. With fierce dark eyes and full lips that curled into a wickedly seductive smile, he was handsome—beautifully handsome.
You should have been afraid of him after what he had just shown you. You should have turned around and run away and never looked back—away from this church and away from Wooyoung. As you have always sworn, you should have left your hometown forever.
But you didn't. The man in front of you, whose eyes seemed to have an even greater darkness in them, had completely hypnotised you.
"You are not the Holy Father." Your breath caught in your throat as he came closer. There was an unreadable expression on his handsome face as he looked down at you. "Who the hell are you?"
He smiled mischievously, and you saw something completely evil in his eyes.
"I am the man who is going to rid you of all of your sins." The sound of his voice was like sugar itself—hilariously sweet.
"W-what? Are you going to make me say my prayers?" At this, he laughed uncontrollably, vulgarly, and at the top of his voice.
"Oh, poor, sweet child." He said this in a drawl, dragging the toes of his immaculately polished black shoes along the floor and carefully folding his hands behind his back. "Absolutely not. I am going to make you repent for all of your sins."
He came to a halt just a few feet in front of you, tilted his head, and looked down at your body. There was a sense of nakedness and vulnerability under his piercing gaze. You felt completely helpless.
"Throughout your entire life, you have committed so many sins that it will take me a long time to get you to repent for them," he said. Wooyoung was talking about it as if it were the most common thing in the world.
"What if I have no desire for repentance?" You said it in a defiant tone. You wanted to be brave; you wanted to be strong and confident, but something deep down inside of you told you that Wooyoung was not the kind of person that you couldn't help but obey. His whole aura told you that if he wanted to, he would fold you up like an origami piece. But there was nothing you could do about it; you had to test the waters to see what would happen if you refused to bend to his will.
He looked at you so intently that you felt he wanted to eat you alive right then and there.
"But I have a feeling that's not the case, is it?" He said this as he ran the tips of his fingers along your jaw. You tensed as he touched you, feeling a cold shiver run down your spine as Wooyoung lazily ran his thumb over your lower lip. "I think you want to get on your knees before me, child. You wish to repent."
Your eyes widened at the sound of his words, and a smirk of arrogance spread across his perfect scarlet lips. Why haven't you fought back?
He leaned forward so that his gorgeous face was only inches away from yours. You squeezed your thighs together as warm wetness began to pool between them, realising he was even more beautiful up close, like sin itself.
"I could smell the sweetness of your cunt from the moment you walked into the church, you little slut." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, and you shivered at the feel of his hot breath on the skin of your body.
The vulgarity of his words made you gasp, but you couldn't deny how your mouth watered at the sound of his velvety voice saying the words 'cunt' and'slut'. God, he was doing something to you, but you were... You were attracted to it.
"I smelled that smell when you walked into the confessional, when you heard my voice, when you said my name." His eyes sparkled in a devilish way, trapping you in his gaze, and if you hadn't been so excited, you would have noticed the black shadows dancing along the edges of his irises.
He was speaking to you in an almost patronising manner now, and you froze in place as he pulled your lower lip down and gently ran his thumb along the inside of it until the pad of his finger was slick with your saliva.
"Wooyoung..." You exhaled, looking down at your hands, fidgeting aimlessly in your lap. Your cheeks were hot and flushed, and by the way Wooyoung looked at you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness was only turning him on even more.
"There's never been a girl in my life that has been so desperate for a fuck as you have. Your desires ... they are almost tangible." He was so close to you now that his hot lips touched the round of your cheek, sending a wave of electricity through your body as he spoke. "I have met many sinners in my life, as you can imagine."
"Are you going to punish me for that?" He raised an eyebrow before straightening up and looking down at you, seemingly completely satisfied with your answer. A majestic expression of all-encompassing power was frozen on his face as he spoke.
"No, darling, of course not. I wouldn't want to punish you, but I am going to make you repent. And the first sin you will have to do penance for will be lust." Wooyoung said, and you found yourself biting your lower lip at the commanding tone of his voice. "Stand up." He gave you the order.
You did as he asked you to, got up from your seat, and stood in front of the so-called priest. He moved around you in a circle, as if considering what to do with you, never allowing you to escape his dark gaze. His tongue stretched out to lick his plump lips in a sensual way; finally, he sat down on the spot where you had been a few seconds before and ran his hands over his muscular, thick thighs.
You were standing in front of him, completely at his mercy, your head bowed in respect as he looked at you like a predator from his seated position, your skin burning under the weight of his gaze. You could almost feel his eyes as they crawled over your body, peeling away layer after layer until they reached the very core of your soul.
"Get undressed." There was a metallic edge to Wooyoung's voice as he crossed his legs and leaned back, his long hair falling over his handsome face, making him even more vicious. "Now."
You opened your mouth to speak, words of protest hovering on the tip of your tongue, but you closed it immediately, realising that it was better not to protest. The feeling of submission came again, sharp and clear, and you quickly pulled off your cloak and threw it to the ground behind you. The soft fabric pooled on top of the midnight blue velour. Then your jumper and your jeans joined it, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and pulled them down to your hips.
As you shyly wrapped your arms around yourself, you suddenly realised that your nipples were hard and swollen and could be seen peeking out from under the thin white lace of your bra.
Wooyoung leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his sharp chin resting on his palms, before he glared at you.
"You have to undress completely, darling."
You nodded obediently, reached behind your back to unhook your bra, and with timid reluctance, pulled the lace straps off your shoulders. You lowered your eyes in shame and looked down at the floor, while Wooyoung kept his gaze fixed on you.
"In atoning for our sins." He began to speak softly, reaching out to your face and gently guiding your chin so that you looked up at him. "We do not have the luxury of being modest." Wooyoung patted your cheek in a condescending manner before he hooked his fingertips into the waistband of your panties, which were nothing more than a thin piece of white lace. He let out a sweet moan as he slowly pulled them off of you, inch by inch, revealing the smooth skin and the wet folds of your pussy.
You blushed as you watched him rub the lace between his fingers, and a thoughtful look came over his handsome face as he said.
"They're wet, darling." He finally said it in a sarcastic tone, his lips curling into a disgusted grin. "You really are a whore, aren't you? You walk around in wet panties and have depraved thoughts, and no less so than about a person who wears holy garments." Despite the roughness and harshness of his words, you could still see the mischievous gleam in his eyes. He tucked your panties into his trouser pocket.
"It's really pathetic, isn't it?" His tongue flicked over his plump lower lip until it was glistening with saliva, and a quick glance down at his crotch showed that he was hard. "You are so lucky that I am here to help you rid yourself of all the sins that you have committed, my child."
The humiliating nature of the situation was turning you on far more than you were prepared to admit. Your clit was throbbing with pain, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, and your thoughts were constantly wandering off in a thick, lustful haze.
"Show me how you touch yourself at night when you are alone with all those sordid thoughts. I want to see you give yourself over to sin." Wooyoung ordered you as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a casual manner. It was impossible to ignore his erection in this position, and your mouth fell open a little when you noticed just how massive the bulge was.
"Y-yes, sir." You whispered. Your mind was spinning with lust as you parted your legs slightly for easier access, your hand hesitantly touching the warm, soft flesh of your inner thighs, shuddering as you discovered the abundance of your juices running down it.
"Keep going, darling. Don't be shy." In response to his words, your fingers touched your neglected, throbbing clit, spreading a sticky, warm wetness and massaging it in slow, firm circles. You whimpered softly, partly from pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation that was blooming in your throat, to which Wooyoung only gave a wicked grin.
"Come on, we both know that you can do it better than that." He reproached you. "I'd like to see you fuck yourself, darling."
You swallowed hard and hesitantly let your fingers slide between the wet folds of your pussy. Your behaviour was beginning to irritate Wooyoung, and all the playfulness was gone in an instant, and a venomous bitterness appeared in his voice. With the silver of his rings digging uncomfortably into your skin, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. His gaze was as intent and as dark as the night, and you shivered at the sight.
"Didn't you hear what I said? I said, fuck yourself."
It was such a rude and vulgar thing to say, especially coming from someone who was a priest, and it took your breath away. In obedience to his command, you immediately slid two fingers through the soft, wet folds and into your cunt. You let out a long moan as you felt your silky walls stretch around your fingers, and, trying to get more of the feeling, you began to move them back and forth. Trying desperately to keep your balance in this awkward position, your knees were getting weaker by the second, and you could feel yourself starting to orgasm.
"You don't expect me to believe that your slutty little cunt can only hold two fingers, do you?" Wooyoung mocked him, biting down on his plump lower lip with her perfect set of teeth. 
Gritting your teeth against the invasion, you sighed heavily and added another finger. The soft walls of your vagina squeezed your fingers like a velvet vice with every move you made. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push away the shame that was quickly engulfing you like the flames of hell. The wet, squelching sound of your fingers moving in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar.
"Harder, show me all of it." Wooyoung's sharp command came out, and you did your best to obey, curling your fingers and rubbing them roughly against the small, spongy bundle of nerves inside you. You were breathing heavily, your forehead and neck glistening with sweat, and your lips red and swollen when Wooyoung finally told you to stop. It was cruel, the way he waited patiently and calculatedly until you were about to come, only to deny you, but you couldn't bring yourself to complain; it was your punishment after all.
Your fingers picked up the glistening wetness that flowed from your cunt, and as you looked at Wooyoung, you brought it to your mouth and wrapped your lips around your fingers, licking it and sucking every last drop of it.
He rose sharply from where he sat, shading you and towering over you like the very embodiment of God—or the Devil? Wooyoung wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on your hairline, with a look of genuine affection on his handsome face. This tenderness did not last for long, however, and after a few seconds, he was back in his unrelenting position of authority.
"On your knees, dear." You did so without hesitation, your knees immediately touching the faded and discoloured velour.
"Look at you, stripped of all your dignity, on your knees, writhing in despair, like a bitch in heat. Aren't you a sight to see?"
You blinked slowly, looking up at him with a fawn's wide-eyed innocence, squeezing your legs together as another wave of excitement surged from your needy cunt. Wooyoung taunted you; there was no way he would show you mercy—you could see it in his eyes as he looked at you coldly, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.
"You have no pride, my dear, but you must still do penance for that, to be sure you will have forgiveness for that too." He lifted one foot and placed it on the seat of the bench, presenting you with a polished, expensive-looking shoe. "Clean it for me. With your mouth, my dear."
You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung but didn't argue, for fear that he would punish you more severely and in more subtle ways if you didn't comply. His boot looked clean enough; not a single scuff could be seen on the shiny leather, and as you moved closer to the bench, you ran the tip of your tongue along the leather in an experimental way. It didn't taste like much, which was a relief to your anxiety, and soon you were flattening your tongue and licking the hard material as if your life depended on it.
"Good girl." He cooed, but there was very little in the way of kindness in that reassurance. As if you were nothing more than a pet, his hand stroked your hair. You were relieved when Wooyoung pulled away and removed his foot from the bench, shuddering at the thought of all the dirt you were putting in your mouth.
"Look at me, my darling."
Your eyes fell on the large bulge at the front of his dark, neatly pressed trousers, and you moved away from the bench so that you were now level with his crotch. A beam of red light shone through the stained glass behind him, reflecting off the black stone of his ring as Wooyoung ran his fingers over his belt. As he slowly unbuckled the belt, the church was silent, except for the faint jingle of the metal buckle. Your gaze lingered for a moment on the image of the Virgin Mary that stood in the corner of the church. Was there judgement in her eyes? Was there a sense of disgust? Her face was as divinely serene as ever, and you couldn't tell.
Too handsome to be a saint, he bowed his head towards you, long strands of black hair falling down to frame his face. Wooyoung unzipped his trousers, taking a moment for a lewd touch of his bulge before pulling out his hard cock. The head of his cock was wet and turgid; a thick drop of pre-cum rolled down its length, and you wanted to follow its movement with your tongue.
"What do you crave, huh?" He asked, hissing as his hand slid up and down the length of his thick cock.
"Do you crave something that can't be satisfied?" His words flowed in a rhythmic flow, and his tone was so soft that you could almost swear that he was singing to you. It was the voice of an angel that was calling out to you. "Do you take all that they give you, only to find that you're still starving to death?" You bobbed your head up and down, desperate and needy, and parted your lips as he rubbed the head over your lips, staining them with pre-cum, making them slick and shiny. You were giddy, stunned by the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you had so willingly allowed to pollute you in this house of God.
"You're a greedy little animal, aren't you?" Wooyoung taunted you with a throaty grunt as he slapped his cock against your cheek. You kept your hands on your hips, waiting obediently for further instructions. You grew more and more restless by the second, not having his dick in your mouth or in your hand.
God, you were one hungry little thing, you really were.
From where you were on your knees, he looked ethereal, his full lips moulded into a perfect, sensual shape. It was fascinating to watch such a man let himself fall apart like that, his chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his forehead as he moved his hand over his thick cock.
He let out a low, guttural moan as he picked up the pace and came closer and closer to the edge, throwing his head back towards the vaulted ceiling. You were so turned on that you were sure your juices were already dripping onto the carpet beneath you, forming a small puddle, a dirty declaration of your desire. The unpleasant throbbing of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Wooyoung's approach to orgasm, his breathing choked and ragged.
He looked down at you and licked his luscious, almost sinful, lips.
"Open your mouth, dear." As if you knew he wanted it, you parted your jaw and lowered your head to his cock. Wooyoung jerked his cock a few more times before he released a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic roar of pleasure escaping from his lips like music. "Don't even have a thought about swallowing."
You felt the thick stream of his cum begin to flow down your tongue and into the depths of your throat, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. Wooyoung pulled his trousers back on, buckled his belt around his waist, and sat back down on the bench with a cold indifference. There was not a single trace left of the erotic image that you had seen just a minute ago.
He patted his muscular, thick thighs and looked at you defiantly, and you obediently walked over to him and sat down on his lap.
His warm thigh pressed against your cunt without pity as soon as you sat down, and you pressed against him desperately in pursuit of the pleasure he hadn't allowed you to have yet. At the same time, Wooyoung slapped your bare bottom with the palm of his hand.
"You have been impertinent to me, which means you have an anger that makes you want to sin. And that is one of my favourite sins, my dear. Wooyoung said as he put his hands on your hips to stop you from squirming on his leg. "To see all the terrible things people can do just because of a little anger is both fascinating and funny."
He lifted you slightly and placed you on his lap. You obeyed him without saying a word. He manipulated you like a doll, positioning you so that you were completely on top of him, your long hair falling in your face and your head tilted forward. You clenched your jaw as hard as you could, terrified of what would happen if you let a single drop of his sperm come out of your mouth. You winced and whimpered as he wedged his knee between your legs again, his hand brushing the tender junction of your ass and thigh.
"I can feel the rage burning deep inside you, my child." Wooyoung held your hands behind your back as he restrained you, tears welling in your eyes. He used his other hand to press down on your lower back and used his knee to press down on your wet cunt. You let out a scream, the piercing sound muffled by your closed lips. The texture of his cum seemed to get thicker the longer it remained on your tongue, and you had to clench your jaw tighter, praying that nothing would accidentally drip out. You couldn't afford to be disgusted by how bitter and cold it had become, coating your mouth with every slight movement you made.
"Isn't that so? Answer me, dear." He growled as he began to massage your ass so hard that you could feel his nails digging into your soft skin.
All you could manage was a pitiful "mmmm.".
"Angry, naughty girl." He said, his voice full of fake sympathy as he ran his fingertips along your thighs in preparation for what was to come. "We can't let this pass unnoticed, can we? You need to repent."
Without warning, he slapped your ass so hard you almost forgot the cum in your mouth. Your body jerked forward before he caught you and brought you back. He didn't give you any time to recover from the blow, as he landed a second one on the opposite side of your ass. Your eyes welled up with tears and concentration as you struggled to keep your mouth shut. Tears started streaming from your eyes down your flushed, hot cheeks as he hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times. Wooyoung continued his merciless assault, each blow harder than the last, until he landed a particularly hard blow that you were sure would leave a bloody handprint on your skin. The force of the blow was almost enough to bring you to a scream, and for a moment, your lips parted. A small stream of cum ran from the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin.
You hoped that he hadn't noticed, but you realised that you were out of luck when he let go of your wrists and took a firm grip of your hair instead. As he leaned down to speak roughly into your ear, he dug his nails into the battered, red skin of your ass as he pulled your head back.
"I will have no choice but to extend your punishment if you make a mess, my dear." When he warned you, Wooyoung's voice was deep and quietly ominous, like the ocean on the brink of a storm. He waited for a nod of understanding from you before he let go of your hair and returned to his previous position, running the palm of his hand lovingly over the swollen expanse of your ass.
You closed your eyes and took deep, slow breaths as Wooyoung spanked you over and over again without stopping. You would probably have enjoyed the spanking if it hadn't been for the added responsibility of holding a tonne of cum in your mouthYou s you squirm under his touch. His knee was still pressed relentlessly against your cunt, and his trousers were no doubt slippery from your excitement, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through your body every time you jerked in response to another loud slap against your skin. The sound was almost deafening, echoing off the walls of the old church in a dull echo.
Your punishment turned Wooyoung on once more, his hard cock pressed against the side of your body.
"It's turning you on, you little bitch." The tone of his voice would have been venomous, but it still remained angelic in some way. "I shouldn't be surprised about that. It doesn't matter what kind of touch you have, is it? You're such a needy slut that even the most innocent of touches makes your cunt wet." He ran his fingers through the tangled hair at the back of your head and let out a mocking chuckle. "You can swallow now, darling."
You swallow the cold, sticky cum, gasping in relief as it slides down your throat, immediately following his request. You could still taste it on the inside of your mouth, a faint hint of savoury sweetness tickling your taste buds. After he had spent a few seconds stroking your battered bottom in gentle, soothing movements, he grabbed hold of your sides and lifted you up until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his lap. For the second time that night, he unbuckled his belt, sliding his trousers and boxer shorts halfway down his hips and freeing his thick cock.
Your stomach churned at the sight of Wooyoung's big, thick cock, but you knew better than to give in to your dark desires. All you could think about was how much you wanted to feel it—to run your hand along its veiny member, to curl your lips around its warm, velvety length, to jump on it and take it so deep into your cunt until you were sure you could feel it deep inside your belly. Wooyoung was absolutely right: you didn't care how he touched you at all. You were longing to feel his touch in any way that was possible.
"Pampered little sluts like you are always too used to being given everything they want without having to lift a finger to get it." He said this as he used his thumb to massage the wet head of his cock. He lifted you up and guided you to straddle him, his hands gripping the soft curves of your hips. Your breath caught; you were so close to your desire that you could almost taste it on your tongue.
"Is that what you wanted, darling?" Wooyoung hummed sweetly as he wrapped his long fingers around your wrist and pressed your hand down onto his cock. Instinctively, you grabbed hold of it, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you ran your fingers along the prominent veins that adorned the length of his cock.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You said it breathlessly. "God, yes. This is what I have been craving so much."
"You little whore, you ought to know better than to take the name of the Lord in vain in the presence of a priest." Wooyoung teased, and you could feel his hot, cinnamon-scented breath on the back of your neck. The pleasure rippled through your body.
"Please, Wooyoung, please, I want to repent." You came close to whimpering. Your hips jerked in Wooyoung's tight grip in search of some kind of relief, and he reached forward to hold you tightly.
"You must try harder, darling. I want to see you try to repent." He placed his hands on either side of you, and the corners of his sensual lips curled up slightly into a wicked grin as he leaned back against the bench and looked at you from under his half-closed eyelids. You leaned forward and held his cock upright by the base. Sitting up, you rubbed the flushed head along your soft, wet folds, pushing it past your entrance and stretching the small hole with his thick, hot cock. Your heart pounded in your chest, pounding against your ribs as you slid on top of him all at once. At the obviously intense pain of his thickness stretching your narrow, silky walls, tears streamed from your eyes.
"Dear Lord." You let out a loud moan and rolled your eyes back as he suddenly filled you to the brim. Wooyoung didn't move, maintaining a majestic coolness, but you could see him sucking his plump lower lip into his mouth when he could feel your pussy enveloping him, a soft hiss coming from the back of his throat.
"That's it, my darling." He praised you, not being able to control himself, and he began to knead your plump tits in his hands. You squealed and barely moved your hips, still trying to get used to the idea of having something so massive and so hot inside of you. "I want you to fuck yourself on my dick. Can you do that for me like a good girl?" he asked.
"Yeah, Holy Father." You replied breathlessly. You leaned over Wooyoung's shoulder and grabbed hold of the edge of the bench with both hands to prop yourself up. As you began to move slowly, up and down on his cock, Wooyoung pressed his mouth to your sensitive nipple and ran his tongue over it.
You were starting to sweat, but you continued to fuck yourself as ordered, gaining momentum with each thrust of your hips.
The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty church and mingled with the muffled, lascivious moans that escaped from your throat. You had never experienced ecstasy like this before, and you were not sure if you would ever be able to experience it again. You were insatiable, moving your hips in an almost painfully hard rhythm, your knuckles white from the force of your grip on the bench. The head of Wooyoung's cock reached your cervix, and you saw stars, unable to think of anything else but your inevitable orgasm and the devilishly beautiful man beneath you.
"Fuck, oh, fuck, Wooyoung, please..." You screamed out the words in an incoherent manner, completely consumed by the intense pleasure you were feeling. Wooyoung was a lot less eloquent than you and tried to control himself, but it was obvious that he was going crazy as well, judging by how hard he was pressing down on you. You could be sure that the marks that his hands had left on your body would be there for a long time to come.
He growled as he lifted his hips up towards you, and streams of tears began to run down your cheeks with renewed force. It hurt, but you loved the pain, you craved it, and you knew you wouldn't be able to forget it for weeks and weeks.
"I'm so close... oh fuck, I'm... I'm..." You let out a loud moan and threw your head back.
With that, he pushed you away from him with such force that you fell off his lap, your ass touching the cold velour carpet, his cock coming out of you just as you were about to come. You sobbed pitifully and looked up at Wooyoung with your eyes wide and glassy as he rose to his feet, his cock glistening with the wetness of your cunt.
"I don't think you're sincere enough in repenting; you're still full of sin, full of forbidden and dark desires, my dear." Wooyoung said it in a dismissive manner as he looked down at you. He leaned down and ran his long fingers through your hair, pulling you up until you were kneeling. "I know what you want, negligible girl. You want to cum. But unfortunately for you, today I'm the only one who can do it."
He mocked you, taking pleasure in the look of misery on your face as he forced your mouth open. He then shoved his cock into your mouth, letting you taste the arousal of your own as it covered him, and without any warning at all,, he began to fuck you in the face at a fast, merciless pace. Gagging on his cock and taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed down your throat, using your hair as a rein to guide your head, there was nothing you could do but take what was given to you. You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed against the smooth, hot skin of his pelvis, one hand holding you in place as warm ropes of cum shot down your throat. He released you and threw you on your side like a rag doll when he was sure you had drunk every last drop.
Too humiliated to look into the eyes of the gorgeous man who had brought you to this state, you began to sob, pulling your knees to your chest. There was no more holiness in Wooyoung than there was in the devil himself. Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, he wore a robe. At the moment, you were nothing more than a whimpering mess, bruised and humiliated, with a sore throat and trembling lips.
And yet somehow your cunt was throbbing and leaking, desperate for filling.
"Please, Wooyoung..." As the words left your lips, you felt numb and didn't even know how you could speak. "Please."
From where he was standing, he looked sinfully delicious, towering over you like a fallen angel dressed in black and sin as you lay on the floor, and you watched in disappointment as he tucked his dick back into his trousers. With what little strength you had left, you tugged at the hem of his trouser leg, and he tilted his head questioningly, a sensual smile crossing his plump lips at the sight of your hopeless state.
"Please. I don't know what you want me to repent for, but please.... Just... please. I'll do anything for you. Wooyoung..." You were on your knees, pressing your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging for food.
"What do you want, my child?" He asked in a voice that was patronising and majestic. He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away some of the tears that had partially dried as he did so. "Wasn't that enough for you? Isn't it enough that my cock fills your mouth and your cunt? Are you going to ask me for more when I have already given you so much?"
You lowered your eyes in shame.
He grabbed you roughly by the shoulder and jerked you to your feet, throwing you onto the bench as he did so. Wooyoung licked his lips as he admired the sight of your naked body as it lay on the wooden bench, the angry red marks on your skin, and the blackened bruises that adorned your thighs.
"Do you want to cum? Is that what you want, you little slut?" Wooyoung asked you as he dropped to his knees and spread your thighs wide open. When you didn't answer, he smacked you hard on the inside of your thigh. "Answer me, bitch."
"Oh my God." You sighed, melting at the teasing sensation of the cold air of the wind on your hot and needy cunt as he spoke. "Y-yes Holy Father. That is what I want."
"Isn't it?" Wooyoung purred, holding your hips in place so that they would remain open for his pleasure. "I will be gracious to you, because that is what God commands us to be."
Suddenly, he lowered himself forward and buried his gorgeous face in your pussy, stroking vigorously between the folds of your pussy and collecting your sticky secretions on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangled in his black silk hair, reflexively rubbing your pussy all over his face. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit, sucking just enough to leave you stunned, and ran his tongue between your soft folds, swollen from his previous actions. Squirming helplessly under his ministrations, you cried out as he let go of one of your hips and slipped two long fingers inside you.
It was brutal—the way he moved his fingers inside you in a merciless way, his mouth working fervently over your clit. The edges of your vision became blurred, and soon you could feel the walls of your pussy beginning to contract, a sign that your climax was nearing.
"I... I... damn!" He flicked your head once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you came, throwing your head back in euphoria as you were consumed by your orgasm. Your cunt vibrated as Wooyoung laughed mockingly, and it was then that the whole situation became clear to you: you had been fucked, well and truly. He wasn't going to let you breathe; instead, he continued to play with your throbbing clit, a third finger thrusting into you with a dirty, lewd slurp.
"This is too much..." You whimpered as his tongue moved quickly around your sensitive clit, and his fingers spread you lightly as they went. You had no choice but to accept what he was giving you—the pleasure coursing through you so strongly that it became unbearable—but you were sure that was what he wanted—to punish you with what you craved so much.
He ran his fingers inside of you, guiding them so that they hit the deepest places that no one else had ever been able to reach. He twisted and turned them, brushing against something that was spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for the second time. Just as you had feared, Wooyoung had no intention of stopping; now he was sucking on your clit with such passion that you could barely move, and you fell limply to the back of the bench, your legs twitching under his tight grip. He continued to push his fingers deep into you, your body shuddering weakly each time the tips of his fingers made contact with your cervix.
"Wooyoung, please stop." You begged, but all he did was laugh maliciously and spread his fingers out inside of you, stretching you even further. He pulled away from your clit with a loud pop, and you were on the verge of a sigh of relief until he removed his fingers from your core and replaced them with his sinful lips.
"N-no, that's too much, please!" Now you were sobbing openly as he lowered his head to lick the stripes between your folds, his thumb circling your defenceless clit, his long silken hair tickling the sore skin on your inner thighs.
Wooyoung sucked one of your labia into his mouth before he pushed himself deeper into your entrance and began to fuck you with his skilled, long tongue. You felt the familiar tightness in your stomach once more, and the muscles in your thighs clenched as he pinched your clit with two fingers. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you came, but this time everything was different: a wave of clear liquid burst from your overstimulated cunt and soaked Wooyoung's face and the front of his perfect shirt.
Eventually, he pulled himself away, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at the mess that you had made.
"You filthy little thing." He laughed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and licked his wet fingers at the mess. "So, what do you think? Have you come to understand how you can repent of your sins?"
"Y-yes, Holy Father." You said you were clenching your legs in a protective manner in case he decided to go for another round.
"Good." He rose to his feet again, looking just as untouched as he had been the first time you had seen him, except for his hair, which was slightly dishevelled.
Your whole body was aching, from your sore ass to your swollen cunt, from your hips to your back. You were sure that for the next few weeks, Wooyoung would be the only thing on your mind.    "I will be waiting for your return, my child. I need to be sure that you have understood the righteous path and that you are living without sin. Do you understand me, dear?"
"Yes, Wooyoung, I am definitely going to come back to confess."
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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months
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Hello gremlin!
I’ve read most of your monster!141 and I absolutely love how you write these stories!
I was wondering if you could do something with a barn owl reader! Barn owl are my favorite animal in general and i would love to see how the monster!141 boys will react to such a cute but deadly hybrid.
I think it will be hilarious how easily you can sneak up on them! After all silence and stealth is a common trait amongst owls. Also it’s not like your a tiny hybrid either you are pretty big and strong but not taller of stronger than the boys
-again i love your work, it’s simply amazing ( i also hope this ask isn’t too weird) 🦉🦉
You weren't even a pet at first. One of the scouts, the flying patrol for the base - the deadly one, really, although the fact that you're only active at night makes you a bit less of an effective soldier than you should be initially. It's fine, you thought, it should be fine - you're flying under the radar, you don't catch attention, you do your job. Then you are accidentally caught in a full moon with Soap and Ghosts. You learned the secret of the most mysterious operator on the base - and you wish you didn't. Stuck on a night patrol with two horny dog and dog-ghost hybrid was...something. Something that got you squished between two of your superiors, your wings petted and stimulated relentlessly and your pussy and ass squeezing their knots. The two of them truly are just dogs at heart - refusing to separate from each other and from you, you could only hoot in pleasure as they were using your body like you were one of pets and not a fellow soldier. You knew what that would mean, obviously - you're strong, yes, but not to the point of their strength. You're not breedable or soft or small, but they are still stronger and you're still cumming around them like a lowly creature you are. Soap marks you with his bites and Ghost pushes his hands around your waist, squeezing you into the shape of a mate. You know your service as a soldier is over. It's not that bad with others - Gaz still respects another flying hybrid in the team, going on patrols whenever you are not being bred, and enjoying flying with you. Even if that means he is only doing this so he could fuck you up on some high mountain or the watching tower, so be it. You want freedom, you crave it, and if spreading your wings also means spreading your legs a bit later than fuck it - Kyle is making you cum, after all. Almost treating you like an equal, this is refreshing after the treatment you're getting from his fellow teammates. He loves to kiss you, to cover you in soft smooches and little pecks, and you never felt so utterly loved. Price is...a bit conflicted. He still treats you as a soldier sometimes. sending you on patrols and when you're all too eager, he is reminded that you're their pet - even though you look and act like a proper recruit. He knows how predator hybrids are, how you need work to do because just laying with your legs spread in your nest won't cut it for someone like you - so he sighs and gives you paperwork, at least, it's something to do whenever you're not filled with their pups. Price is softer with you, he is forcing himself to be. Being strict and acting like your captain is a second nature to him, but you're changing your circumstances really quickly and he just wants you to be good. Just wants you to feel alright even though he understands that the transition was harsh.
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virtualreader · 10 months
Text
birthday present
rickgrimesxfem!reader
summary: you weren't expecting anyone to remember that today was your birthday, and definitely did not expect a certain cowboy to give you not one, but two birthday presents.
word count: 1,2k.
genre: smut (and a little bit of fluff)
warnings: p in v (unprotected), fingering, sensory deprivation, praising.
a/n: this is my first time writing smut, I know I have a lot of scope for improvement, so feedback is certainly appreciated.
+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!
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"C’mon, take it. I got it for ya," Rick insisted, handing you the small box. The messily wrapped newspaper sheet was held in place by a delicate blue ribbon, which attempted to form a bow on top of it.
You were always living in a daze, with no sense of time. However, Rick was surprisingly able to keep track of the days and make sure to surprise you every year with a small gift. Some years, it would be a bouquet of flowers, and other years it would be a small trinket that he had picked up on one of his runs. Regardless of what it was, it always brought a smile to your face and made you feel loved.
You couldn't help but wonder how he managed to keep track of the calendar when you could barely remember what day of the week it was. But that was just another one of the many little mysteries that made him such a special person to you.
You carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the newspaper to reveal a small, silver necklace. The pendant on the necklace was in the shape of a cowboy hat, a nod to Rick's own hat that he always wore and which now belonged to Carl. You smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.
"Thank you, Rick. This is beautiful," you said, putting on the necklace and admiring the way it caught the light. Rick grinned, pleased with your reaction.
"Well, I couldn't let your birthday go by without getting you something," he replied. "But that's not all. I've got one more surprise for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold.
He covered your eyes with the cloth, tying it loosely behind your head. Normally the darkness would be something scary, not knowing what’s around you or what could happen next, but you had to admit that in these circumstances it pretty much turned you on.
You felt Rick’s hand on your arm, guiding you through the house. He closed the door of what you supposed was your bedroom behind him. And before you could even ask what was going on he put your hand on his throbbing budge.
You gasped in surprise, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Rick, what…?" you started to say, but he interrupted you.
"Happy birthday, darlin'," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I wanted to give you something special this year."
You felt his lips on yours, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment. The blindfold made everything feel more intense and intimate, and you were grateful for the darkness that allowed you to focus solely on the sensations coursing through your body.
As he pushed you down onto the bed, you could feel the intensity of his passion emanating from his movements. Rick's desire was palpable as he moved frantically on top of you, his body consumed by lust.
Briefly pulling away, he hiked up his shirt, revealing his taut, muscular abdomen. With your hands pinned up against the bedhead, you felt a shiver run down your spine as Rick's mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue teased and tantalized your skin, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.
“We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby.” he rasped against your neck as you wiggle under him.
The grip on your hand tightened, and the old bed squeaked along with your motion, creating a melody you completed with your purring.
His hands traveled to your pants, muddy from the gardening labors you were in charge of, and got rid of them, and continued to undress you until your body was completely exposed to his feverish gaze.
He took a moment to contemplate your body after he had relieved himself of his own clothing, damn, you looked so pretty subdued to his control. His tongue danced over your nipples, and the moan that escaped your mouth in response made Rick smile boastfully.
As you were about to complain, he interrupted you with a stern grunt and ordered you to open your mouth. Caught off guard by his sudden demand, you hesitated. He then slid his fingers into your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate them.
He spread your legs and pushed the two fingers inside you, causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved them slowly at first, but gradually picked up the pace, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. You moaned in ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers.
Each movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to bring you to the brink of orgasm and keep you there. You pulled your head back, your mouth open as you groaned, your legs stiffening.
As he looked at you, he couldn't help but think about how deliciously wet you was. Your body was practically begging him to do something, and he couldn't resist any longer.
He leaned in close and whispered in your ear, "God, I want you so badly right now." you shivered at his words, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. He continued to tease you, slowly running his fingers up and down your arm, sending chills down your spine.
The blindfold heightened the intensity of the pleasure, making it more satisfying and enjoyable. The lack of visual stimulation allowed the other senses to become more acute, leading to a more immersive experience. The anticipation of not knowing what would happen next added an element of excitement and mystery to the encounter. It added a new dimension to the experience.
“Rick…” you hoarsely begged.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” his deliberate teasing causing you to soak his fingers even more. “Tell me.”
“You,” his fingers leaved your hole. “I want you inside me.”
Next thing you knew, his tip was tentatively brushing your entrance. His barely perceptible touch tingled you, your whole body quivering in anticipation. He slid his hands to your hips, a firm hold on your sides, yet not hurting you. With your leg resting on his bare, broad shoulders he thrusted his cock against your walls, both fitting as key and lock.
Your spasms squeezed his warm rod, bringing him closer to climax. "Such a good girl." he praised you, the sound of your panting filling Rick's ears with satisfaction. His heady scent, more intense than ever, got you higher than drugs.
Finally, when you could take no more, Rick released you, allowing you to come down from the dizzying heights of pleasure. You were left panting and sweating, your body spent from the passionate experience.
You gasped for air, your body trembling from the intensity of the orgasm that had just wracked through your body. You couldn't believe how incredible it had felt, how Rick had managed to bring you such an incredible amount of pleasure. You were completely spent, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the orgasm. Rick lay next to you, his arm draped over your waist felt comforting and safe.
“Just so you know, I turn forty next month”
How could you possibly refuse to gift the man whose smile mesmerized you?
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tangerine-brooks · 16 days
Text
I've seen many posts that were like "💕what it would be like to date [insert a tsh character]💕" with cute romantic stuff and i was like GIRL NO, so that's what it would actually be like to date the secret history characters:
Charles: is drunk 24/7, throws stuff at you, hits you, disappears without explanation to be found in a hospital three days later, secretly fucks his twin sister
Richard: stalks and idealizes you even before your first conversation, then lies to you constantly about literally everything to make himself seem cool, never tells you anything about himself, gatekeeps, gazlights, fantasizes about hitting and raping you, doesn't care to know you, obsesses over you after a breakup for years
Francis: is gay and only dates you as a cover-up for being gay (for gays: doesn't know what consent is at all, kisses you and then tells you he doesn't feel anything for you, probably only wants a one-night stand, wakes you up at 2 a.m., because he just had an anxiety attack)
Henry: forces you to join a cult, never talks about feelings, never tells you anything about himself, suspiciously often talks about murder, then kills himself in front of you, mentally scarring you for the rest of your life
Bunny: is sexist, racist, homophobe, mentally unstable, doesn't have a job, insults you on purpose, spends all your money, reads your diary without permission, throws tantrums, steals from you, then dies under mysterious circumstances
Camilla: cheats on you with her twin brother, and we know nothing about her personality besides that thanks to richard who was so in love with her that he never saw her as a human being instead of a highly idealized pretty picture
Everyone: are high and/or drunk most of the time, are in a cult, do kill people
256 notes · View notes
visionsofmagic · 1 year
Text
“four times” | simon “ghost” riley [m]
masterlist.
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⋆ pairing: simon “ghost” riley [cod: mwII] x f!reader
⋆ summary: four times you think about how simon ghost riley will fuck you and one time he actually does.
⋆ wc: 6.7k
⋆ warnings&tags: nsfw, explicit language, flirting, daydreaming/dreaming, mentions of fantasy & kinks, rough!ghost who becomes soft for some time in odd circumstances, f!reader, kissing, licking, biting, oral > f receiving, cums, cursing, superior!ghost, touching, putting one's head down, dirty talk, pet names such as doll, handcuffing, safe word, reader is kind of like a brat, sinsful/unholy things, mentions of love, fluff, a little emotional, jealousy, events happens in a safe zone like a dom. remind me if I missed something. enjoy!
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it was not the first time you imagined about it but it was certainly the one you went further 'till it made you stood where you were, looking at the lieutenant's face shamelessly without your control and keeping dreaming about how he would fuck you.
you couldn't tell what made you think such a thing since he was your superior who you should look at a co-worker but it all changed when you joined to the team and got closer with each one of them, especially with ghost who you has spent so much nights in the field now. 
in these nights, you shared so many things, mostly you but ghost became more comfortable around you enough to let you tease him. it was a great development for your relationship. he wasn't like soap at all and for you, no men could be like him. mystery he had alongside his own persona was pulling you to him dangerously. 
maybe, that was the reason why you felt this way about him; wanting him to ruin you from head to toe. 
so, it wasn't a surprising thing when you sat down on the couch, watching ghost and soap organizing and planning how to enter the building secretly.
comparing to others, his body was massive and it began with it.
your mind studied how he could easily carry you. he could move your without any effort onto a higher level and he even could hold you by your ass, raising your body up, caging it between his massive body and a wall, hugging you from the waist and ass.
with the stamina he had on field, he clearly could go for some rounds like that, not putting you down while fucking you like that. you imagined how he would make you undress before fucking you from head to toe but keeping all of his suit on which would make you feel the fabric of his clothes on your skin.
he definitely would talk dirty, explicitly. he had no shame in that situations as you guessed.
as you kept dreaming him fucking you from behind while holding you up only leaving your tips touching the ground as your head hit the wall rapidly. all naked, sweat all over and screaming his name again and agai -
"y/n?" a deep voice you loved to hear said, taking you from your nasty dreams into reality with a blushed face. "are you okay?"
you nodded to your lieutenant. "sorry, sir," you said. "I was thinking about something. what were you saying?"
his eyes that was only visible thing from masked covered face kept looking at you, so, it was soap who answered your question, pointing out the map of the building. "can you stay in here for the mission?" 
looking at ghost one last time, you turned to soap and began to talk about the mission while you continued to feel ghost's heavy eyes on you from time to time.
°
second time was when you were standing on the building with ghost beside you, lying down on the ground on your stomachs, adjusting the snipers in front of you.
lieutenant was looking directly at the high building while you were looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
he had a good physics - a good built body thanks to exercises he was doing all the time. so, while he was lying like this, you could see strong muscles on his back that were visible than before. his arms were covered in black fabric, pointing out his muscular arms under the fabric. you wanted to touch them because your palms aching to feel his muscles under your skin, caressing them slowly while he took all you give him.
while looking at his body, your naughty side took control once again, making you have unholy thoughts about the way his arms could hold your thighs in place while he is standing on his knees right in front of you, his masked curled up only leaving his lips in display to your eyes and some wetness on his lips which you saw twice thanks to having same lunch time. wetness coming out of your bared pussy in front of his face, eating you alive while you hold his shoulders and arms on your thighs that are exposed because of the shortness of night dress you were wearing.
having him between your thighs, seeing him licking, biting and eating your pussy as you only leave moans of his name and how good he is making you was a dream in your head in that moment when a hand waved towards your direction – a hand of no one’s but ghost whose eyes filled with concern and confused looking.
“what are you thinking?” he asked, angry a little bit and you knew damn well why he was angry; the mission was about to start and you were dozing off, giving you danger and ghost probably began to think whether you were ready for the mission or not.
but you took a defensive and determined manner, shaking your head with your hands in sync. “I just got an idea is all, don’t worry, sir, I am ready for the mission.”
his eyes traveled from your face to your lower parts and to your face again and making you flush more in redness. “how copy?” he asked, bossy as ever, deepness in his voice.
“positive, sir.”
“good.” he said, nodding, believing you. “don’t make me carry you from the field, y/n. it is the last thing I want to.”
“don’t you worry, simon.” you smiled, feeling closer thanks to him calling you with your name so intensely. “I am good at this.”
°
third time came sooner than you expected it to be.
the mission was done perfectly, no blood dropped, no one got harmed, the information they had got back from them secretly, not alerting anyone in the building while you and soap stayed in the field and ghost on the rooftop, giving you information and calmness through the mission, especially to you.
after it was done, the team took different cars to go back into the place you were staying at. you were the one who left behind with just one car because you decided to wait for ghost to reach you, leaving the rooftop. it was a habit you had after a dangerous mission you and ghost had in previous times. it began to be more natural each time and no one questioned it, not even you and simon, it was an unspoken and calming gesture you both shared.
while keeping silence, you enter the back of black truck. you took the chair in front of simon because there were no one in the truck expect you to and you believed it would be strange to sit beside him when there were all empty spaces. this was the first mistake you did.
you realized it when simon put down his sniper on the ground when car began to move, driver staying behind the closed black mirror, not giving any sight of you two to him. then, simon put his head to the surface of truck, looking at you with his dark colored eyes – they looked darker than before because of gloomy white lights of the car. they looked at you so intensely that you moved in awkwardness, but not breaking eye contact but it was hard to keep, especially when he opened his legs wider, manspreading, showing off his powerful thighs seamlessly enough to make your face turn into a redness.
he looked damn well with the way he was sitting that your knees began to weaken, ready to shake any moment.
it was so hard not to imagine how could you easily stay on your knees, between his thick thighs, all of his armor on, only half of his face smirking down at you while you took his exposed cock deep inside your mouth, beginning for more and more for him to fuck it roughly, his hands on your hair, caressing gently and roughly at the same time to mess with your already dumb head.
you could guess you would hold his thighs with a strong grip, not wanting to fall onto the ground because of shaking legs he would give to you.
“y/n,” simon said, sounding half ghost who is your lieutenant and half simon who is your friend or crush if you would be honest to yourself. when you looked up to his face, you realized how you were staring at his thighs and well, that particular thing covered but a little visible to eyes. you knew damn well that he caught your staring and the heat raised inside you while you waited him to continue. but he said something you didn’t expect, “you did so well in the field.” he smirked, and you could tell that without even seeing his lips.
“good girl.”
°
it was the fourth time in which you actually took an action while dreaming about it because there was a free time to do whatever you want to do and it was right after the exercise day you shared with ghost and soap together to have fun and useless moment.
flashback
it was an idea coming out from soap, suggesting to share exercise hours while playing a game; the winner in each exercise would ask a question to others – the questions that could be anything including explicit ones to add some spicy to the game as soap said while smiling. thanks to the times you three spent, you knew very well what kinds of question he would ask.
it sounded fun and you nodded, and simon too who you tried not to look at for long times since he was wearing a black t-shirt, leaving his arms exposed and upper body covered with the skinny fabric of it. also he had black cargo pants on. he looked breath taking and you wanted to remove his mask and see his face.
then, it all began; first winner of exercise was soap thanks to the energy he had which would fade away slowly as you guessed. he had no shame and that’s why, he asked a very expected question; which position you like the most.
you rolled your eyes, punching him on the shoulder, “what an unexpected question you asked soap.” however, your calm manner changed when a deep voice came from your behind.
“can’t choose.”
he was standing right behind you as his bigger body swallowed yours. looking back to his face, covered with mask, you blushed. and when he looked down at you with dark colored eyes of his you loved to look at, you turned to soap suddenly who was smirking at simon’s answer.
“how about you, y/n?” soap asked, giving time for you to be comfortable to answer. he added when you stayed silent. “it’s just a game. don’t worry, little one.”
you tried to look confident and while simon’s piercing eyes were opening holes in your back, you shrugged, “classic ones, I guess.”
“classic ones?” soap chuckled, caressing your hair with a friendly manner, “I expected you to have – well, more colorful things than that.”
rolling your eyes, you tried to joke to calm the air down since all you could think simon’s presence and answer – can’t choose, was the thing he said, so, he loved every position. you wondered how many positions he experienced with others and that made your blood boil without your control.
with raising heat and anger on your body, you said to them, feeling sick, “enough with the game. I want to take a shower. you two go on.”
as you made your way you could feel the gazes simon gave to you; confused ones while soap shouted childishly, “but it just started!”
and here you were, sitting on your bed after a fresh shower which helped you to calm down and getting away with the ideas of simon with someone else. jealousy and anger were the things you shouldn’t have since you were being just a brat who had a crush on him. that was all. nothing more.
but when you remembered his answer, your brain began to act on its own; thinking every position simon would fuck you with.
and when it stopped on your favorite on, the doggystyle, not the one you told to soap, your mind blew up, making your hands work on your clit that saught attention. 
it was all dizzy now; you lying down on the bed, one of your hands on your breast while the other one playing with your folds, heavy and pitched breaths coming out of your parted mouth, your white night dress on your body, exposing your breasts alongside with your pussy and thighs.
it was passing midnight and no one were in your floor; soap and simon went outside as soap informed you, captain price and gaz were visiting some important individuals who were friends of captain, so, you were all alone – all alone to do what you wanted to for such a long time; thinking about the lieutenant – his hands, thighs, arms, massive body entirely and especially his cock while having your own pleasure with quilt because he was your superior, boss even, and on the other hand, he was your friend. if only he knew you were lying down on the bed and began to moan his name lowly but since there wasn’t any sound in the floor, it sounded so high for your ears.
when you were about to reach climax, the door knocked, taking you away from your naughty dreams.
with a dizzy mind and annoyed because of not reaching your climax, ache on the stomach, you got up, not minding putting something on to your messy night dress, you just stood behind the door, opening the lock, then the door only to see the mask of ghost, standing with all his glory behind the door with a black hoodie and light blue jeans on. he looked attractive and hot as always. you didn’t know how you could fall for someone without seeing his face but it was the power of simon. you fell for the man for only him, not for his face or position – only for him.
“s-simon?” you asked in surprise because he was the last one you expected to stay behind your door in such hour, especially since he was out with soap doing god knows what.
without saying anything, he just nodded towards the room, asking for a permission to enter.
giving him space to enter the room, you realized which dress you were wearing but it was all too late and simon’s eyes were already on your body, looking at it from corner of his eyes even though you could feel its burning effect, making your cheeks burn and remember what you were doing before he knocked the door.
cursing inside your head, you put your arms around your body with a calm movement, like you weren’t minding being like this in front of your crush – who you were having unholy thoughts recently, you asked, “is there something important, sir? I thought you and soap were outside for fun.”
“yeah?” simon asked in a low tone, making you shiver thanks to deepness of his sound – sounding more than ghost on the field than simon but there was also hints of simon still. “it wasn’t fun.” he added, slowly approaching you, putting a hand on the door, right beside your head, making your back touch door’s surface due to sudden closeness. he caged your body between his and the door. it was hard to breath normally.
“s-sir?”
“I was simon for a second there and now, I am the ‘sir’?” was he doing this on purpose? – the deepness and lustful his sound was making, eyes behind the mask that were only visible thing on his face and closeness. it was different than before.
“would you like me to call you with your name, sir?” you asked, shy as ever but trying to show confidence.
“no,” he shrugged, slowly, looking at your lips for a second for enough for you to catch it and become breathless. “call me whatever you like.”
you tried to chuckle, getting out of his hold, walking toward your bed without looking him back. “is this a joke that soap suggested?” you smiled again, a nervous one because what he was trying to do now was bad news to you; he was giving you a power he shouldn’t – power of being so fucking close to him. “it is not funny.”
you sat down on the bed, arms on your chest still, but the skirt of dress raised up, showing your little exposed thighs to him which you didn’t mind since the topic was different than simply your dress.
ghost leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, making them getting tight through the fabric of hoodie. he also crossed his legs, looking so tall, giving you a sense of being weaker and smaller than him but this only made your stomach twist in excitement. the whole air was heavy and filled with lust. 
“am I looking dumb to you?” he asked, sounding calm even though the question was – odd.
“huh?” you asked, confused. “no, sir, of course not.”
“then why you are acting like I am?” he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he got straighten and started walking towards you. you held your breaths ‘till he stood right in front of you, making you look up to see his face, then, he put his two hands on the bed, caging you in here too.
his nose were touching yours from time to time. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt hot, dizzy and excited.
“thinking I would not notice that gazes you gave me, hm, is that the deal, y/n?” he asked, “I can see though your skull, I can smell raising heat coming from it. standing there, dreaming about me.” his right hand found your left cheek, caressing it slowly, “tell me, doll, how many night you thought about me while touching yourself – like this one.” his mouth reached your ear and you could feel his warm breaths even through the mask, “how many times you moaned my name?”
your mind wasn’t there, no, it was all gone but still, you tried to protest, “s-sir, you are mistaking, I –“
“mistaking? oh,” he straightened up, his massive posture shining with the moon’s dim lights coming from windows. “then, I heard wrong it, maybe, you tried to moan another man’s name, is that it?”
you waved your hands on defense, “no, no!” everything was complex and you knew it was to tell truth in this situation in order to not make it more complex than it already was, so, taking a few deep breaths, you looked at his eyes once again, feeling weak on the knees due to his power, and saying, “it was your name I moaned, sir.”
he tilted his head to left a little, hand on your chin, caressing it gently contrary to the strength he held. “good girl,” he said, making you close your eyes – being called good girl by him was magnificent, and when he continued, it became more than it, “my good girl.” his other hand moved, lifting half of his mask, showing his smirking lips that turned into a straight line. he knelt down, closing the gap between you face and his, nose touching to each other. “don’t lie to me again. will you do it? will you be my good girl like always?”
you nodded, “I will!” you tried to calm down when he smirked again, knowing his dominance on you and proud of it. “I will, sir.”
“then, tell me,” oh he was being such a tease now with the way he was talking – low, deep, full of poison that could be death of you. “what you were moaning for?”
it took some certain seconds for you to answer his explicit question directed right into your face, wanting to get answers of what you were dreaming about him before he came. god knows how great hearing ability he had, catching you calling his name behind the walls. you could swear he stood there for a second to hear your pathetic moans, trying to give yourself pleasure. gulping, you looked half-giant man before you, losing your mind just with it. what it would do to you when you saw him naked? you wished inside, you begged even, to see him naked tonight, on your bed.
“for you, sir.” you gulped again. the room’s temperature was high – so high, like your mind and it wasn’t from a drug, no, it was because of him – simon fucking riley. he was one of his kind, for sure, and you could taste it tonight, maybe just once which made you sad for a moment before seeing him smirking to the answer, waiting for you to continue, giving him something would make him ruin you in the moment. “for your cock.”
“atta girl.” his fingers found the thin strap of your night dress, clinging it. his eyes found yours for a while, getting your approval even if he could see the way you closed your legs together to feel something to calm down your lustful pussy, hardened nipples visible through the dress and heavy – audible breathes. ghost was a beast but simon had the heart of a gentleman. knowing this, you nodded, giving him power over you he sought.
he gave you his hand, you held it, feeling roughness of it that tickles your skin in a funny way, heartwarming even. getting up, you waited for him to remove the dress from your body, letting it collapse into the ground, leaving you naked all over, causing you to have redness from cheeks to knees from here to there.
it was a fantasy for you, one of them really, being naked while he kept all his clothes on, fucking you like that but tonight, you wanted to see him too because it was the first time. you wanted it to be unforgettable forever.
when his eyes and his fingers moved in unison, traveling on your body that began with your face. as his fingers made his ways to your waist, he held it for both of his hands in a second, pulling you into him ‘till your exposed tits hit his chest. you screamed lowly at the sudden action, putting both hands on his shoulders to balance your stance. he didn’t smirk but you could swear he was enjoying this so fucking much from how his hands began to move from your waist to your ass, grapping them and giving gentle squeezes. he knelt down, nose touching nose, “I will give you some times to do whatever you want to do with me,” he put your hair to your ear with his left hand, “then, I will have you with my way.” 
you smirked, getting comfortable each second, gaining your confidence back. “is this a deal, sir?”
“no, pretty, it’s a warning because when I begin to have you with my way, you would not be able to even think what you wanted in the first place,” he smirked a little, “you will be too cock dumb even to think.” 
looking at his eyes carefully for the last time, you nodded, a smile of victory appeared on your face. “I trust you, lt. make me a dumb for your cock as if I've never been.” the moment you finished your sentence, a light exploded inside, and after a second, you were all over him, kissing his lips as your hands on his shoulders tightened in order to gain strength to keep still because his lips were your weakness from now on.
kissing him with the way you wanted the most, your heart reached its own euphoria, encouraging you to move closer – taking actions. so, your hands traveled on his neck, causing him bend more. he opened his mouth wider at the action, letting your tongue clash with his, reaching the taste of it – taste of him.
moaning, you held his hoodie, leaving his lips to remove it. being an obedient man, he let you remove it without saying anything, only looking at your face with his messy and red lips because of the roughness of the kiss you shared.
it was the first time you saw his upper body exposed, showing off his biceps and well built body with a proud looking on his half covered face when he saw the way you literally moaned with the half naked sight of him. “s-simon.” you tried to say, more like another moan of his name when his lips found yours once again, taking back the breath your lungs asked for.
he wasn’t that rough but you knew his kiss would leave puffiness on your lips.
finding you waist again, he made you jump into his arms, holding your body like it was the last thing for him to hold life on his hands. his touches felt both lovely and intense, blurring your mind, wanting to be fucked by him soon enough.
letting your back reach onto the bed gently and slowly while his mouth found your neck, you felt the heat radiating from his chest into yours and you couldn’t help but say, “I didn’t know my time was this limited.” when he began to put permanent licks and kisses on your neck, a hand on one of the breasts as the other one traveled on your thigh. when you remarked his eagerness by saying, “couldn’t wait any longer, huh? I didn’t know you were so into me like I was for you, sir.” he smirked for a second before giving you a rough bite, making your body jump in sudden pain that began to feel like a pleasure thanks to his added kisses. you knew you was right and that knowledge added more confidence and happiness to you. 
as your hand found his nape hair, coming out from the way his mask stayed, you held them tightly when his fingers positioned on your pussy’s enter.
“s-simon!” you said, “please, please, please.” and it took him just put his fingers on the folds of your pussy to make you start to beg for his cock – inside you.
“you sounded so confident now. where is that confidence go?”
you shook your hands in negative way, holding his hair still, waiting for him to stop playing with your folds and enter. “I just want it! please, please –“
“want what?” he teased but he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he entered his fingers into you, two of them as his kisses, licks and bites moved from your neck to breasts – taking his time on there while fucking you with his long and thick fingers, earning low moans from you. he moved to your abdomen, then to your pussy ‘till he reach right into your entrance.
his tongue joined his fingers, eating your pussy, adding third finger, going in and out rapildy, leaving you no choice but close your thighs together to take more pleasure of him because seeing his head between your thighs, pink tongue on the pussy, eyes on your face – challenging you to keep looking at him – at how good his tongue working on your clit. “s-simon!” you moaned again, earning a smack to your ass.
“stay still if you want to cum,” his hands opened your thighs wider, giving him a good view of your messy pussy. he added, “c’mon, be a good girl for me and don’t try to hold it back,” your stomach twisted in pleasure, reaching your climax soon enough. simon said, “cum.” to give permission to you before his tongue reached the deepest it could go when his three fingers entered you deep and rough, you moaned loudly, letting your cum hit his mouth and fingers.
simon didn’t stop at his actions of tongue ‘till he drunk all juicy you made with that hard cum thanks to him.
“s-simon –“ you said again. his name was the only thing your mind could make sense of. “please. need you – need your cock!”
“what a greedy girl you are, still wanting my cock even though you cum so much on my mouth.” he positioned himself on top of you, two hands caged your head between them as he left a little of his weight into yours. your legs opened on their own, hugging his belt, pushing him down to feel his hardened cock on your exposed pussy to seek friction. he chuckled deeply at your weak trying and you waited for a while in order to comprehend the way he chuckled so beautifully – he was so beautiful, not from this world, you believed – he was something else, different than any human and he was all yours now. you wished this magic would never end.
“since I couldn’t wait for your time, I will give you a choice.”
saying hmm in response, you closed your eyes and opened them to gain function of your brain back while simon watched you with sparkles on his darkened eyes. his hot breaths were hitting your face and that was the warmest thing you felt. “what choice?”
“choice of position.” he said, kissing your cheeks and chin, giving you explosions – good ones like fireworks on the night sky, “you didn’t say which position you liked most to soap. say to me, wanna hear it.”
you decided to tell the truth, so, you held his face with both of your palms, putting an innocent kiss to his nose like you weren’t all naked under him, took his fingers and tongue just now, “actually, I don’t care about the position anymore,” you shrugged, “with you, every each of them will be the best.”
that made him tilting his head to left, “you didn’t get my cock but you still believe it will be best.”
you chuckled, “why shouldn’t I? perhaps, it isn’t good, hm?” you challenged him.
he put the last gentle kiss on your lips. then, he left your body, standing on your knees as his hands stopped on his belt, removing it slowly enough to give you another twist on the stomach at the sight of him; half-covered mask on, pink and wet lips because of only you, exposed chest with full of biceps and well built muscles, veins visible on fingers and arms, and thick thighs covered with clothes but soon, would be left as naked as his chest.
“I should make you regret for saying that but tonight, I will take easy on you my pretty girl,” he removed his belt, holding it with one hand, unzipping his pants, taking it off from his body within his black boxers. in addition to his speech – him saying how you were his pretty girl, how he could punish you but choose not to for tonight, your mouth opened wider when you saw his hardened cock, finally free, standing with all its glory right in front of you. it was long and thick – greater than you could imagine in those naughty dreams of you. 
he knelt down again after giving you a time to acknowledge his cock, aching to enter you all way in. you looked at his eyes, full of danger and lust that pointing out his further actions, “so, enjoy it while you can because I will never be this merciful again.”
wait, he was saying that this would go on – that this wasn’t just one night thing? – you thought to yourself in pure disbelief but it all gone when he spun your body, making your face touch the surface of the bed’s sheets. feeling his chest on your back, you growled – his weight on you only made you eager than before and when his hands found yours, you felt cold sense of his belt. he was handcuffing you with his goddamn belt he took off and you only stayed still, a great idea of comiting a sin with simon looked thrilling and you didn’t move even when he checked out whether you could move your hands or not.
yes, you imagined him fucking you but this – this was beyond it. he was breaking all the norms you expected him to have and you couldn’t deny the feelings he gave to you – both sinfully coming right out of hell and fireworks made from the expression of beauty and innocence from a clear sky.
“y/n,” simon said, for time calling you with your name after you started making out. it felt closer than ever this time, so, you looked at his face with pure love, seeing him getting softer. “do you need a safe word? we can make one if you –“
“no,” you said, calm to give him guarantee, “with you, I don’t need one, simon.”
with your reply, his soft and thoughtful side seemed to give its place to the one whose intentions were to fuck you hard. you realized you loved both of them because they were all simon – your simon.
maybe it was wrong to call him as yours but when his hand found your neck, positioning your head into the sheets as his other hand found your thighs after lifting your ass higher, opening them wide open with the helps of his knees, it felt so right – you were his before even knowing and from now on, you had no complain being called as his as well as him being called yours.
you moaned when his cock’s tip positioned on your entrance, giving you a second to breath in and out. then, his cock entered inside with a rough thrust, making your body bounce because of the impact. your head nearly hit the headboard, moaning loudly some mindless things like begs, praising, and so on.
it felt so good – so right; the way his hand traveled on your waist, positioning you in one piece in order to make it stay still, not bouncing each time he trusted deeply and roughly. he indeed had a good strength and stamina within a great speed, you realized it now more than before.
as his thrusts made their way right into your walls, your moans were so loud that if someone just walk pass by your door, they could easily hear you moaning and screaming your lieutenant’s name shamelessly, as if it was the one thing you knew, maybe it was.
“s-simon –“ you tried to say with a messy mind, “if someone comes, they will – “ you took heavy breaths, his balls hitting you, his weight on yours hard to endure, “they will hear us!”
simon’s grip on your waist tightened, probably leaving marks that would last for a few days but he didn’t seemed as he mind it at all while he kept fucking you hard, giving your breasts bouncing with each thrust.
his cock were reaching your stomach and you knew you could see it if you looked at your abdomen. his hot breathes joined your moans and when he hugged your abdomen and breasts with two of his hands, making your back hit his chest. this new position made his cock reach deep down of your pussy, giving you painful but pleasure thrusts. from the tips of your fingers that were handcuffed, you felt his tightened biceps. giving them little touches, you heard simon curse under his breath.
reaching to your ear, he said, “scream my name more. if anyone pass by this door, I want them to hear whose cock you are taking and how it made you a cock dumb.” his thrusts became messy but their deepness were still there due to the new position. “maybe I should fuck you in shared office even. that would definitely make them hear your filthy moans. want that?”
he bit your neck, leaving your body onto the sheets once again, holding your thighs as he stayed without moving, only his hands. he was literally using your body like a lightweight toy. he was just moving your body back and forth without any movement, fucking you like this, proving the power he held because it was hard to move your body rapidly and roughly just to fuck you and he was doing it as it meant nothing to him.
you felt like a doll under his touch with the way he began to fuck you but it only made you reach another climax in an instant, being his doll – his slut he used for his cock in bed came wonderful to your ears.
“would my pretty girl like it? showing how she belongs to me who begs for my cock – who dreams of it every fucking night ‘till she gains it.”
“yes, yes, yes!” you screamed, “please, simon! let me cum, please, please, please –“
there wasn’t any sound including your own. it was only him. therefore, when his deep voice finally said, “cum. cum to my cock.” you cum undone in a second, letting your juicy pouring to his cock and onto the sheets from there.
you cum too high and hard but you had courage to say, “simon,” to him one last time before nearly fainting, “cum inside. I want you – I need you to cum inside.”
he lost balance of his thrusts that were going in and out softer now, and when he regained his balance, he only began to fuck you rougher this time, heavy breaths and curses came out of him ‘till he reached his own climax, cumming deep inside, feeding you with his hot seed.
it was better to feel his cum than your own.
putting your forehead into the bed, taking deep breaths to finally reaching what you wished for, you let simon took his cock off of you, letting his seed coming from inside to your folds, thighs and sheets – a beautiful sight to your eyes. he also removed his belt, kissing your chin that were hurting but with his lips, you wanted to be handcuffed more by him if he would keep kissing you like this afterwards.
your body collapsed onto the bed. looking at his still half-hardened cock and juicy on him – both his and yours, you moaned lowly, “simon.”
he put a hand beside your head, other one caressing your hair after pulling them out of your face, he kissed your forehead. “just rest, you need it.”
“I don’t need a rest.” you said, “I need you.”
he looked a bit confused, asking, “you want round two? I didn’t know you were such a greedy for it.”
you chuckled at his tease. “I would want it still even when we do it for a hundredth time, but, no.” your hand found his mask, not pulling it out, just holding it. “I want you, simon – just you.”
he looked surprised for a while, adjusting what you said. you could see how hard he was trying to hide his emotions under the mask but you knew him damn well, realizing it was the thing he wanted as well as you.
he nodded, holding the hand you touched to his mask with, putting a kiss to the fingers. his hands stayed on his mask and you felt an urge to say, “you don’t have to remove it. I will wait for the moment you believe as the right one. just come here,” you showed other half of the bed after leaving him enough space to fit. “and let me kiss you all night. don’t expect me to forget the deal you broke tonight.”
to get his normal self, not the one who was emotional and showing it, he just nodded, smiling little, “you don’t forget a thing, y/n.”
“of course, I don’t! it is about you after all.”
chuckling at your own answer, you watched simon leave his mask as it was; half-covered, lying on the bed, giving you his arm for you to put your head to but you choose his chest.
calming in his arms he hugged you with from the waist, you smiled. “let’s stay for a while. then, we can bathe to clean up.”
he nodded, “together?”
you tried to hide your blushed face with a hit on his chest, “simon!”
he shrugged, a ghost smile on his face as he closed his eyes at the feeling radiating both of you. “definitely together.”
the end.
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imaginesmai · 7 months
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Something new - Azriel
Another kinktober fic! I've seen this trope SO MUCH lately, I couldn't help myself.
Plot: Azriel proposes something new, and even if you have doubts, you're all in.
Warnings: just porn , facesitting, shadowplay.
Azriel is looking at you with a raised brow, a smug smile on his face. He’s silently daring you to bring up another argument, only so he can dismantle it as easily as the rest of them.
It’s hard enough to deny his petition. Not only it’s unusual for him to ask anything, to be comfortable enough around you to talk about sexual fantasies and desires. It is hard because he is completely naked. You can spend hours staring at his sculped chest, muscles hard and wide, covered in tattoos.
And you don’t even want to drag your eyes lower, where his cock is standing tall, demanding your attention.
Usually, you would be more than happy to give it all the attention you have. But Azriel has stopped you moments ago and proposed something different. Something you have never tried, although it has crossed your mind sometimes. Multiple times, actually.
“I will be fine” he assures you for the sixth time that evening. “I promise, darling. I’m a trained warrior, I push my body each day to the limit in the ring with Cassian. If I can take down Illyrian warriors, I can hold your weight”
“Or not” you rebate. “You can’t compare sparing to Cassian to me sitting on your face”
“Certainly not, I’m sure it will be far more pleasant”
Sex with Azriel is never monotonous, he makes sure of it. Even if the shadowsinger is an introvert and quiet on the outside, inside the bedroom he shows you a different part of him. You are used to playing games, some of them involving his shadows, ropes, and even wax.
You have enjoyed each and every of them, and you know you will enjoy what he is proposing even more. But still, you are doubtful about it.
“I could hurt you without meaning to. And what if you can’t breathe? How am I supposed to notice?” you repeat the questions, and he just blinks unamused. “We don’t know if it’s safe. Maybe someone has died and no one has reported it. Death by asphyxiation, under mysterious circumstances. Maybe their partner was shoving their – “
“What better way to die than between your legs?” Azriel cuts you off with a deep, loud chuckle. Tired of the banter, he grabs your hand and pushes you forward. “My shadows will make sure I live to do this again, don’t worry. Now let me have my dessert”
Any other time, you hope, you would have been more hesitant. But you have been both naked for a long time now, lazily making out and grinding against each other in bed. There are purple spots all over your neck and chest, where Azriel has been buried minutes ago. And your nails are printed all over his back and ass.
Before you can act on your newest fantasy, Azriel brings you close. He presses his lips against yours, as he has done already a thousand times that night.
They are swollen and soft, his hand holding the back of your head to keep you close. It brushes gently your hair, easing your worries away. His tongue traces the edge of yours, as if he hasn’t almost shoved it down your throat an hour ago.
Azriel eases the both of you until you are laying on his chest, wings sprawled under him. All it takes is for your sneaky fingers tracing the membrane of his left one for him to break the kiss.
His left hand gives you a playful smack on your ass and pushes you forward.
“Come on, Y/N” he growls, his shadows pushing you forward too.
“Let me know if it becomes too much” you remind him as you get to your knees.
“Sure”
“And if I’m too heavy, please don’t die” you place your hands on the headboard.
“I won’t die, I promise”
“If you feel like you can’t breathe, you touch my – “
“Get here”
You are still hesitant, hovering over his face with your knees at either side of his head. But Azriel, who has quite patient, doesn’t let you finish. He grips the top of your thighs and pulls down, his shadows fixing your hands on the headboard so you can’t pull yourself up.
And damn.
Any coherent thought leaves your head as he licks a long strip through your soaked folds, parting them without any care. You suck a breath when he reaches your opening and doesn’t stop for a second before digging in.
His shadows are the only thing cold on your body as you almost melt against his face, not caring anymore about asphyxiation or crushing him. Azriel is griping you so hard that there will be purple fingerprints on your legs the next day. And if the shadows holding you in place and his mouth devouring you isn’t enough, one of his hands gropes a handful of your ass and pulls you closer to him.
“You’re so sweet” Azriel mumbles from under you, his teeth grazing your clip and taking a deep moan out of you. “Coul be here all day”
“Az”
“My sweet pussy”
He isn’t possessive, at least not when you are public. Behind closed doors, he owns your body and soul. Your grip on the headboard almost flatters when he sucks hard on your clit, taking the small button between his lips, brushing his tongue underneath.
All you can smell is him, his arousal, and all you can hear is him lapping your juices. You don’t have to look back to know there’s a hand wrapped around his cock, a hand that isn’t his entirely. His shadows must have touched a sensitive spot, because his body is bucking up and you almost fall to the side, if it wasn’t for his hands holding you in place.
You try to get one hand free. Maybe to pull at his hair, to cover your mouth. Azriel doesn’t let you.
“Let me – I need a hand” you moan again when he starts leaving kisses from your clit to your opening, covering any reachable spot. “Azriel, let me go”
“No”
His voice resonates in your cunt and that is almost enough to bring you close to the edge. Only his presence would be enough, the presence of an Illyrian male that falls on his knees in front of you, that is completely yours.
Azriel knows your body and knows you’re close, so instead of letting go of any of your hands, he speeds up. All you feel are his teeth, his lips and his tongue on your pussy, on your folds, on your clit. He rounds the sensitive spot as the shadows rip a moan out of him, and the next second he has his tongue in you, his nose brushing your clit.
Like a madman who hasn’t eaten in days, he devours you whole. You are almost sure he has stopped breathing a while ago, but before you can make sure he’s fine, you’re cumming.
Without your hand to cover your mouth, anyone within hearing range hears you breaking down screaming his name as you cum on his face. He rides through your orgasm without even changing the pace, and black dots appear on your line of sight.
“Az, I can’t – Azriel, stop –“
He doesn’t, and before you know it, your tights are trapping his head between your legs and you’re having the best orgasm of your life. He continues licking any juice that leaves your body, alternating between eating you out and assaulting your clit.
The shadows let go when there’s nothing left in you to give, and Azriel has barely time to catch you as you fall to the side, completely spent.
He manages to pull you back to him, and when you open your eyes again, you’re met with his hazel ones looking down at you with only love and adoration. His lips and chin are shinning with your juices, and without breaking eye contact, he licks them clean.
It’s certainly enough to make you notice the shadows around his shaft.
“I’m alive” Azriel smirked. “Are you?”
“That was the best orgasm of my life”
Your confession drags an ego boost out of him, that you feel through the bond. You smile when his hand finds your cheek and caress it loving. If you asked, you are sure he would turn around and try to sleep with a painful boner. And if you asked, he would totally use his shadows to keep you up and go for a second round.
Before he can propose any of them, you prop up on your elbow and drag your nails down his chest.
They follow the pattern of his tattoos, and he watches you with a raised eyebrow. His expression quickly changes when your fingers find his nipple, your thumb flickering it gently.
“Return the favor?” you propose, with a knowing smile.
The next thing you know, Azriel’s lips are once more on you and his cock pressed against your stomach.
You’re in for a long night.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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buggysangel17 · 7 months
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The Bride of A Warlord
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Summary: You have arrived to what you now call your new home, it was scary and confusing, but at least you have someone else to keep you company. Characters: Dracule Mihawk x Wife!Female Reader (Amihan). Perona Word Count: 1,198 Chapter Warnings:  Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence (I am still in episode 20 of OP Anime so please bear with me on the fucked up timeline of events here)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Send Me An Ask?
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You were consumed by a cocktail of fear and excitement.
But that was only natural to feel in your current predicament. Taken from your home due to circumstance that was no longer in your control. You turned to what you now call your husband. Dracule Mihawk was a man not to be trifled with, one of the Seven Warlords and dubbed the Greatest Swordsman in the world.
“I will have your room prepared as soon as possible.” Mihawk spoke, interrupting you from your train of thoughts.
All you could do was nod. You were taken from your own home, miles away from what you had once been so familiar with, a place that you had deemed had become your own prison. Any form of freedom you would take, even if it means being under the circumstantial marriage with one Warlord such as Mihawk.
“Yes, Sir.” You nodded, having no right to complain or react negatively for a short wait.
Even without looking at him, you’ve noticed his sharp yellow eyes glued fall to you. Turning to looking up at him, you noticed his narrowed eyes, a frown that was something you had gotten so used to rest on his lips.
“You will call me by my name, I do not agree to have you calling me of anything else while under you are under my care.”
You gulped, but nodded your head in agreement. This man, as handsome as he was, still scared you. Having caught firsthand the destruction his sword could make to your entire island should his will make it.
“You are not here as my prisoner, you can freely explore the castle should you wish to do so. All I ask is you not to leave unless you tell me or have me to accompany you, is that understood?”
“Yes—Mihawk.” You responded quickly.
As you step off the grandiose boat onto the rocky shore of Kuraigana Island, your heard races with anticipation and uncertainty. The sea breeze carries the scent of salt and new adventure, but it’s the sight before you that leaves you breathless. Your new husband’s castle, looms high above, perched on a ragged cliff that seems to defy gravity.
The castle is a dark, imposing fortress, its jagged spires reaching towards the heavens like the fingers of a giant’s skeletal hands. The stone walls are as grey and foreboding as the thunderclouds that hover over the island. You can’t help but shudder at the stark contrast between the castle and the vibrant, tropical island that surrounds it.
Your arrival has not gone unnoticed. From the castle's towering parapets, you catch glimpses of shadowy figures watching your every move. As you start to climb the narrow, winding path that leads to the castle gates, your footsteps echo in the eerie silence.
The closer you get, the more details you can make out. The castle is adorned with intricate, Gothic architecture, with gargoyles leering down from the eaves. The windows are narrow and slit-like, like the eyes of a predator, and they seem to be keeping a watchful gaze on you. The walls are covered in ivy and moss, as if nature itself is trying to reclaim this imposing structure.
You can't help but feel a sense of unease as you approach the massive, iron-bound gates. The air feels heavy with centuries of history, and you can't shake the feeling that the castle holds secrets, both wondrous and sinister, within its ancient walls.
As the gates slowly creak open, revealing the cavernous darkness beyond, your heart pounds in your chest. You have entered a world unlike any you have ever known, a world of mystery and danger. And as you step across the threshold, you can't help but wonder what awaits you in this forbidding castle on Kuraigana Island.
As you step through the imposing gates of Mihawk's castle, your heart is still pounding with trepidation. The exterior of the castle had filled you with a sense of foreboding, but as you cross the threshold and enter the grand foyer, you are struck by a stark contrast.
The interior of the castle is a complete surprise. The space is bathed in warm, inviting light that spills from ornate chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. Elaborate tapestries hang on the walls, depicting scenes of epic battles and exotic landscapes. The polished marble floors beneath your feet reflect the glow of the many candles that line the corridor leading deeper into the castle.
Your husband, Mihawk, takes your hand and leads you forward, his expression unreadable. His grip is reassuring, grounding you in this unexpected change of atmosphere. You exchange a glance with him, and for a moment, you both share a silent understanding of the paradoxical nature of the castle.
The air inside is fragrant with the scent of fresh flowers, and the walls are adorned with vibrant paintings and delicate porcelain vases filled with blossoms.
As you explore the interior of the castle, you discover cozy sitting rooms with plush sofas and grand dining halls set with opulent feasts. The contrast between the grim exterior and the opulent interior is almost surreal, and you can't help but marvel at the transformation.
Mihawk guides you to a balcony overlooking a breathtaking garden bathed in moonlight. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you realize that the castle holds a world of beauty and wonder that you could not have imagined.
As you stand together on the balcony, surrounded by the enchanting sights and sounds of the castle, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope and excitement for the future that awaits you here, in this magical, enigmatic place.
It wasn’t your home, no, far from it, but with this new found freedom, all you could think of right now is what the world could possibly be able to give you now.
“You have a guest along? That’s surprising from you.”
You tensed, immediately finding yourself stepping closer to the man you now call your husband. Turning to the owner of the voice, the sight of a pink-haired girl over a decade younger than you had floated towards your direction with what you think were ghost accompanying her.
“Not a guest.” Mihawk explained his gaze was on you, you tensed as his hand had rested on the small of your back. “My wife.” He introduce without much of a hesitation in his tone.
“Wife?!” The girl gaped and was immediately all over you, questioning you and your life decisions and how much of a sour sport Mihawk was to her especially as he had left her all alone in the castle.
“You have a daughter?” You inquired.
“No, just an unwelcomed guest.” He explained earning the offense of the girl that you now learned was named Perona. “But she will keep you company for the instance that I will be out for a while.”
You nodded turning your attention to the package that came with now living in the same home, in the same castle, and in the same Island as your new husband. It was a chaos that you were slowly but surely coming to enjoy as time goes by.
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oneshotnewbie · 20 days
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Reader walks through fire to save Emily Prentiss. That's it, that's the prompt. You can decide what you do with it. Thank you 💖
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Authors note: Somehow lately I've had a thing for long oneshots that go well over the actual 1000 words. I just can't stop writing once I start haha. I wish you a nice start to the week ♥
⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the slight mention of burn injuries and fainting. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.
ᕚ---ᕘ
As Special Agent Emily Prentiss and you brought your car to a stop on a remote forest path, the dense treetops reached high into the sky, forming an impenetrable canopy of leaves that barely let in the light of the sun. It seemed as if nature itself wanted to keep a secret as a cold wind blew through the branches, carrying with it the whispers of the leaves.
A brief exchange of glances between Emily and you revealed the determination burning within you as you checked your gear and got your vests ready. As a well-rehearsed duo in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were familiar with the darkest depths of the human psyche and had faced the most dangerous criminals. But even for you, this case was of unusual intensity.
A series of brutal murders had terrified residents living on the edge of the Arkansas grove. The victims appeared to be chosen at random, and every lead the team found at the crime scene led to a dead end. But now a clue had led you here, to this dark place that was far from any civilization.
Together you made your way down the rocky and arduous path deeper into the forest, the cracking of twigs under your boots and the occasional call of a bird accompanied you like a dark melody. Imbued in your minds was the determination to solve this mystery and put an end to the evil that threatened the innocent inhabitants of this remote area.
Eventually you came to a small clearing dominated by a dilapidated log cabin. The centuries-old wooden walls were overgrown with moss and ivy, which covered the abandoned building like a veil. The windows stood empty and dark, like the eyes of a ghost from a bygone era, silently bearing witness to long-forgotten stories.
Emily sensed an eerie presence that seemed to emanate from the place, as if the walls themselves spoke of the horrors they had experienced. But she forced herself to suppress her fear and focused her gaze on the task before you both. Despite the ominous feeling that surrounded the place, your resolve remained unbroken as you prepared to explore the secrets of this mysterious place.             
“Ah, here we are,” you whispered quietly to her as you crouched and crept up to the entrance, gun drawn. "Let's see what we can find and finally close the case."
You entered the abandoned building together, your flashlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the path before you. A hint of decay hung heavy in the air as the old parquet floors crunched beneath your feet as if revealing the secrets of the building beneath you. But your resolve was still unshakable, and you searched every room with meticulous care, looking for clues that could solve the mystery.
As you began to move further into the next room, Emily paused in her position in the largest room and raised a hand to silence you before you could even begin to speak. You listened intently, and a quiet but distinct sound reached your ears - a gentle breeze that seemed to whisper through the gaps between the door and the frame.
“Over there,” Emily whispered as you returned to her, pointing to a locked door at the end of the hallway. The two of you approached the door slowly, your hearts pounding loudly in your ears as if anticipating the rhythm of the horror to come. With a quick nod, you released the lock on the door and entered the room first.
What unfolded before you chilled your blood. In the middle of the room sat an altar made of weathered stone, surrounded by extinguished candles and mysterious symbols that formed a dark coven around it. On the walls hung grotesque paintings of dark figures whose eyes seemed to pierce you, as if they wanted to explore your soul.
But the horror reached its climax with the sight of the body lying on the altar - a young girl, bound and mutilated, her face contorted in pain while an iron stake protruded from her chest, her breathing long stopped. The sight of her echoed in your mind, a cruel testament to the evil that permeated the place.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" you asked, an ice-cold shiver running down your spine as the ominous scene before you slowly took shape. Emily shrugged, her gaze caught by the gloomy atmosphere as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure. "We have to get out of here and call for backup," she said firmly, but the undertone betrayed the growing concern that threatened to overwhelm her too. She signaled for you to back off as she took a few steps back to give you cover. "This is bigger than we thought."
You nodded in agreement, but before you could take a step, another sound echoed across the ceiling - a soft rustling, followed by an ominous hissing that seemed to be emanating from a hidden pipe, accompanied by the pungent smell of smoke coming from beneath the door.
Panic rose within you as you realized that you possibly were in danger and that the rest of the team might be taking too long to reach you. You were trapped, surrounded by the dark remnants of a ritual space that seemed to harbor evil and now encircled you menacingly.
As you walked up the short steps and opened the door to leave the basement, and hastily return to your vehicle to call for backup, the blockhouse was engulfed in thick smoke.
Emily felt the heat rising on her skin and the acrid smoke entering her lungs as she coughed and pressed her sweater under her nose to escape the choking smoke. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the infernal crackling of the fire, which threatened to spread greedily, as if it was hungry for more fuel.
You nodded in agreement and reached for her hand, and together you fought your way through the impenetrable fog, your eyes burning with tears as you searched for a way out of this nightmare. But the fire, which had spread for reasons still unknown, seemed to cut off your path, your every movement blocked by a wall of heat that threatened you and that blocked your view. You didn't know where the exit was. Every step you took brought you closer to the certainty that you were surrounded by the merciless forces of destruction that were driving you closer to the abyss with every second.
Fear gripped both of you tightly as you looked around and realized the terrible reality. The flames around you burned higher and higher, their glowing tongues lashing out greedily at everything in their path, spreading an atmosphere of desperation and chaos.
And as you progressed on your way, you suddeny saw the outline of a dark figure. You strained to sharpen your focus, to heighten your senses in this inferno. "The perpetrator! He's here!" You shouted out to Emily, your voice filled with determination as you moved resolutely towards the unknown, clutching your gun tightly, the desire for justice burning in your heart.
But in the rush of the moment, you didn't notice that Emily wasn't following you, her own thoughts torn apart by the urgency of the situation. Her eyes searched desperately for a way out of this blazing hellfire as she fought within herself against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.
But as you got closer, you realized with horror that it wasn't the murderer, but just a shadow dancing in the pale light of the flames. A moment of relief quickly gave way to anxiety as you realized that the perpetrator was still lurking somewhere in the dark corners while you had lost sight of him. And now you were separated from Emily, your ally, your anchor in this burning hell.
Emily called out to you, but her voice was swallowed up by the angry crackling of the flames that raged around her like a wild animal. Her heart began to race involuntarily as she looked around and realized the cruel reality - she was completely alone, surrounded by the surging waves of fire that threatened to consume her and destroy her existence.
With her back pressed against the wall, she pressed her flashlight hard into the fog that permeated the room, hoping that the beam of light would attract you and lead you back to her. “Y/n, I’m here!” she cried desperately, her voice laced with the pain of isolation. "I'm trapped in the flames. Follow the light, please!" Her words echoed through the burning room, a silent cry for help amid the raging inferno.
Less than a minute later she heard a faint sound rising above the roar of the fire - the sound of a figure, a jacket over your head, fighting through the flames to get to her.
Emily turned to the side and watched in horror as you emerged from the blazing inferno, your face contorted with pain, your clothes scorched by them, and your skin marked by the cruel scars of the fire. “Oh my god, y/n!” she shouted, her voice filled with fear as you fell the last few inches towards her, her eyes wide in terror. "What have you done?"
You couldn't speak a word; the pain unbearable, your voice paralyzed by the torment of the fire. Your only job was to get your partner safely out of this burning house, so you placed a wet blanket over her head and body before carefully guiding her out of the flames, yourself also hidden under the blanket to protect yourself from further burns.
Her hand gripped yours tightly as she pulled you closer to her, feeling the pain and heat of your skin. "Y/n, you are seriously injured. Let me guide you," she whispered softly as she placed your arm over her shoulder, but the adrenaline rushed through your body, your mind numb from the agony that was coursing through you, her words unheard.
You struggled through the flames, your senses numbed by the unrelenting burn that accompanied you as you leaned heavily on Emily. Every step was agony, every breath a fight against the heat and smoke that threatened to suffocate your lungs. But despite the darkness of the inferno, you did not give up, but continued to fight, driven by the irrepressible will to bring Emily and yourself to safety, out of this hellfire.
As you finally made it out into the open and made your way to safety, a deafening bang ripped through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light that pierced the dark clouds of smoke and bathed the night in blinding daylight. Emily and you were thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion, the impact shattering your bodies as chaos erupted around you.
Fire shot out of the windows of the log cabin and quickly spread to the surrounding trees, the forest itself was going up in flames. The air was filled with an infernal crackling and hissing that shook the ground. The forest immediately became a burning fortress, enveloped in an impenetrable veil of flames that seemed to block any possibility of escape. "Y/n, get up," Emily urged, her voice firm and determined as she leaned towards you, "We have to get out of here. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get you looked after." Her words pierced the chaotic scene, a promise of rescue and hope amid the tumult of flames.
She shook your motionless body, but you didn't move. The adrenaline that had once fueled your senses was gone, and now your body was collapsing like a house of cards blown away by a merciless breeze. Emily gently turned your lifeless body onto its back, an act of tenderness in the midst of chaos that reflected your sacrifice and bravery - you had gone through hell to save her.
Half your body was scorched by the flames, your skin scarred by the fire, and your breathing was shallow and uneven, a faint sign of your struggle to survive.
Emily fought the panic that overcame her when she saw your badly injured body. "Stay with me, y/n," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear as the flames around her licked at the trees and ate through the undergrowth, a warning sign of destruction. "You can do this, you hear me? You have to do this. Please, y/n."
But you didn't move, unconscious and silent as death itself. Emily felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she forced herself to stay strong so as not to give up on you. Her hands rested gently on your bruised skin, a silent vow of loyalty and hope amidst the flames.
Emily pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her fingers shaking with tension as she dialed the number for her boss, Aaron Hotchner. She raised the phone to her ear, hoping for a connection as the chaos raged around her, the flames spreading unstoppably.
"Hotch, we need help urgently," she said, her voice firm and controlled even as fear burned in her heart. "Y/n is seriously injured, we need firefighters and paramedics here. The whole forest is burning down. Now!"
He reassured her that help and the team was on the way, and Emily put the phone away, her thoughts entirely on you, still lying motionless in front of her. "Please, y/n. Wake up," she pleaded, running her hand gently over your burned neck, as if she could call life back into you through the touch. "You have to fight, you hear me? You can't give up."
The minutes passed like hours as Emily waited, her eyes fixed on you, counting every breath, watching every movement of your body as she evaluated your vitals every second. But nothing changed, you remained motionless, your face expressionless like a mask of ash, and your thoughts swirled in a whirlpool of fear and hope.
Finally, the sound of engines pierced the oppressive silence as firefighters burst through the flames and rushed to your rescue. She was accompanied by the paramedics who immediately lifted you onto a stretcher and took you into the ambulance while she followed you with a worried look, closely watching the rescuers' every move.
The ambulance raced through the mountainous streets, sirens blaring across the countryside, as Emily sat next to you, holding your hand tightly amidst the furious roar of the sirens and the rattling engine.
ᕚ---ᕘ
The bright morning light filtered gently through the hospital room window as you slowly came to consciousness. Every breath was accompanied by pain, every muscle in your body felt like it was filled with lead. A silent struggle against the stabbing pain shot through you as you tried to move, only to be thrown back into the soft hospital bed by a painful retreat.
Emily sat by your bed, her eyes full of concern, her hand gently stroking your fingers as if she was trying to ease your pain with her touch. Noticing you had awakened, a soft smile broke across her lips as she reached for your hand that wasn't injured. “Welcome back, y/n,” she whispered quietly, her voice warm and sensitive. "How do you feel?"
You tried to speak, but your voice was only a hoarse whisper, choked by the pain of your injuries, and you coughed painfully. Emily handed you a glass of water and gently held it to your lips, helping you take a slow sip before continuing. "It's okay, speak slowly," she encouraged patiently. "You've had a tough time, but we're here to support you." Her words were a promise of care and hope in the midst of the darkness you had lived through.
You nodded slowly, your mind raging like wild whirlwinds, flooding with memories of the past mission - the fire, the flames, the heat that had penetrated your skin. And then there was Emily, strong and unwavering, standing next to you and holding you as your body slowly gave out and you tried desperately to get her out of harm's way.
“I remember,” you finally whispered, your eyes cloudy with pain as you tried to form the words through the thick fog of memories. A faint hint of understanding crossed Emily's face as she heard your words, her eyes full of empathy and compassion.
"You literally walked through fire to save me," she spoke quietly, her voice laced with a hint of awe as tears pooled in her eyes, glittering like diamonds in the light.
A faint smile crossed your lips, trembling with exertion, as you slowly raised your hand and placed it gently on her cheek, your touch a delicate promise of love and devotion. “You were inside,” you murmured quietly, your voice a whisper in the quiet of the hospital room. "No fire in the world would stop me from saving you. I can't lose you." The words were a confession that reached deeper than words could, a promise that was anchored in the infinite expanses of your connection.
Emily reached for your hand, her touch as delicate as a gentle breath as she leaned against you, letting her tears flow freely. "Thank you for coming to get me," she spoke, her voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "You are incredibly brave. I was deeply impressed by your courage and willingness to sacrifice. I will always be there for you, just as you were there for me."
Your eyes shined with gratitude and a hint of relief. You knew the road to recovery would be long and difficult, but you also knew you didn't have to walk it alone. You had Emily by your side, strong and unwavering, and the team that supported you. Together you would overcome this challenge, side by side, hand in hand, ready to weather any storm that blew your way.
You knew that the bond between you both was strong, strengthened by the flames of fate you had traversed together. And so began a journey of recovery and growth for you that would bring you closer together than ever before. Every step you took together would show you that the love and connection you felt for each other was stronger than any darkness that threatened you.
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casualhedonists · 3 months
Text
into the mist, into the clouds
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pairing: lucy gray x fem!reader
words: 3.5k
warnings: very few; fluff, angst, mystery and intrigue etc, post tbosas lucy gray
playlist for this fic • main masterlist
a/n: my first non-smut fic on here! title from carolina by taylor swift, which this fic is very much based on. this is one of my favorite things i've written in a very long time. enjoy 🤍
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
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“You didn’t see me here.”
Whispered words fill the space between you. Your head rests in her lap, dress crisp and clean and smelling like you, like your home. She looks at you with a sense of urgency, one you’ve seen all too many times before.
“What? Lucy Gray, you’re not…”
She can’t be leaving again. She only just arrived. The morning had brought dew and her muddied boots on your porch for the first time in months. Your mother was gone for the day, it was almost like Lucy Gray had known. Her dress was covered in dirt and grass stains. You piled it into a hamper, washed it in the fresh water of the creek down the hill from your house, scrubbing away while she collected firewood.
“I am. Tomorrow. Dawn.”
“Let me come with you.”
“It’s not safe, my love. I can keep myself protected if I’m alone. I’m startin’ to get real good at it.”
You don’t ask if she’d come back. Neither of you ever know the answer to that.
“Will you do something for me, Lucy Gray?”
Your voice drops. The fire crackles, the pine cones you’d collected together popping as they burn. She likes the sound, she told you. It was safe, comforting. Homely. You’d wondered if she was really talking about the fire, or you, the girl who sat with her in its warmth.
“Anything. You know I will.”
“Would you leave before I wake up? I’m not sure I can say goodbye to you again.”
She smiles, soft and sad, and gazes at you like you’re a song, or something she wants to memorise.
“Of course I will. It’ll be like I never came back here at all.”
The glow of the flames dance across her face.
“I don’t want that.” You whisper. “I hate feeling like you’re slipping away from me.”
She lowers her head to yours, your foreheads touch. You hear the smile in her voice.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
You’ve learned not to waste your time in tears, when she’s going to leave. There are better ways to spend those last moments, eyes dry and focused on tracing the lines of her face, committing it to memory for the last time in who knows how long. You sit up, curling into her, pressing your lips to hers, her hair still damp and smelling like the bar of soap you’d lent her when you fixed her a bath, your pruned fingertips massaging her scalp as the water began to cool. You make it to bed, sleeping soundly with her arms around you.
True to her word, she leaves in the morning. Leaving no trace, no proof she was ever there in the first place. But you feel the warmth of the sheets next to you, and you know.
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She finds you the next summer.
“Don’t move.”
You freeze, long grass up to your knees, long skirt swishing as you wade through the field, sun blaring down on you.
A pair of warm hands press softly over your eyes.
“You’re back.” You beam, spinning around, taking her head in your hands, eyes shut, just listening to her breathing. You press your lips to hers.
“I sure am.” When you break away to take her in, look at her sunkissed face, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her smile wider. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she got more beautiful every time you saw her.
You lie sun-drunk in the shade of the tall grass, lazing against each other as you go over your birthday, the village gossip, and she listens. Always listening, drinking up your words like she’s parched.
You’ve learned not to ask Lucy Gray where she’s been hiding, you both know it’s safer the less gets said. But she presses on, ever gentle, asking you for details when you fill her in on your life.
You jump at a movement in the grass beside you, but she just laughs. Picks up the snake, humming as it wraps and twists itself around her hand.
“These ones won’t hurt you, darlin’. They’re docile, see? Wouldn’t harm a fly.”
She lifts the snake to you slowly.
“You’re sure?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.” You reply instantly, like you’ve waited your whole life to hear the question.
“Then hold out your hand.”
You reach out.
“Close your eyes.”
You do. After a second, you feel hers, pressing into your palm, and an oddly warm sensation, smooth.
“It feels… dry.”
You open your eyes. The snake twists and drapes between the two of you, loosely binding your hand with Lucy Gray’s, holding you together.
She laughs, bright and sweet, like music.
“Well, what were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.” You confess. “Maybe for it to be wet? Slippery?”
Her laughter chimes through the field, a low gust of winding carrying it away. You stay like that for a few more hours, until night begins to fall, and the summer wind carries her away, too.
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A year passes. Then another half.
Your mother gets older; she gets sick. You venture outside the bounds in twelve, slipping under the rusted wire fence with a basket, collecting herbs you’d started to read about but couldn’t afford. You make tinctures, teas, you light incense and fill the house with sprigs of rosemary and thyme. It slows down the sickness that tore through her like wildfire. When she passes, it’s beautifully peaceful, like a candle being blown out. You carry her ashes to the lake and you spread them, lingering by the Covey’s cabin. Hoping.
She doesn’t come. You walk home, humming something you think you remember her singing years ago. You start to wonder if she was just something you dreamt up, an old folk song you sing to yourself each night before you fell asleep.
Spring rolls around, and your empty house gathers dust. Your way with herbs and remedies gets around, starting with a few bottles gifted to a neighbour with influenza. Her granddaughter comes to your doorstep with the empty vial and a bag of potatoes. You smile and thank her.
“Are you a witch?” She asks, barely ten years old and looking up at you with dark, mistrusting eyes. You laugh.
“I’m not too sure about that, hon. Did the herbs help?”
She nods, a frown etched along her features.
“Then perhaps I’m a good one.”
Before you know it, word gets around that you cured the old woman. You make a living collecting herbs, crushing them down, and people line up outside your door most days. You find a slice of peace in it, in the routine.
But winter is cruel, and the house turns cold. The house that was once the perfect size for you and your mother now feels like too much money and work to heat, and things start breaking, and leaking. You hear from your cousin in Seven, you’ve inherited a log cabin and a slice of land on the edge of some woods from a great-aunt you never met.
You weigh your options. You go to the lake and skim stones in the icy water, mulling it over.
To leave Twelve is everyone’s dream. But Lucy Gray. The gentle ghost who lingers over your shoulder. How will she find you, if she ever comes back? You can’t stay here waiting forever. One bad frost kills your crops, the chill sets into your bones, and you make up your mind. You pack up your herbs and bottles, your books and your clothes, the pinecone you keep beneath your pillow, the silver snake bracelet she gave you many years ago, and you leave. A simple, smudged note sits under the plant pot on the porch, your old hiding place for the spare house key where she’ll know to look:
I’m in the trees. Come find me.
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District Seven has more trees than you’ve ever seen. Twelve is known for it’s forests and fields, but these woods are expansive, spanning over miles, trees lined up perfectly, the smell of freshly chopped wood filling your senses.
Every step you took made you wonder if Lucy Gray been here, if the birds in these trees had heard her saccharine voice.
Your herbs sell a lot better in Seven. It’s enough to buy new clothes, and the village is better kept. The people are kind, warm and friendly. You can finally afford to eat your fill. Your cabin at the edge of the woods stays warm and comfortable, the wood is plentiful, you chop your own from the land that’s now yours.
Sometimes when your head spins from the weight of the axe you see movement in the woods, and you wonder. Sometimes you peer inside, certain that it’s her. But she feels so far away from you now, that you can’t help but feel you’ve abandoned her.
You take walks through the forests; you whistle to the birds and listen for the ones who might sing back. You hear nothing. One day, in the town, you walk by a window display with an old, beat-up guitar. It looks well-loved, and something draws you to it. Faded gold paint around the sound hole, strings messy but you go inside and barter, and take it home with you.
You hum some of the old songs she used to sing, try to piece together chords on the strings that aren’t snapped. It sounds like a mess but you play anyway. It feels like a piece of her that you want to keep close to you. You’ve learned to become a collector of sorts.
You’re kept warm through winter, and spring fades into summer. You take the little fishing boat that came with the cabin out on the river, and hike through the forest. You take your guitar with you, and one day, finally, you hear it.
A mockingjay.
It sings your broken tune back to you, bouncing through the pines. A smooth voice cuts through the birdsong.
“Did you miss me?”
Lucy Gray.
Your head spins around. And there she is, smiling, and you fall into her arms.
“I was so scared. I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“I know. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think I would either.”
“But you’re here, you found me! My note, I didn’t know if…”
“The trees.” She grins. “District Seven. It made perfect sense, my love.”
“I can’t believe you’re here. Lucy Gray, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”
“Oh, I think I do. If you think for a second you’re alone in that, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now,” she adds, nodding at the guitar, “what do we have here?”
You take her onto the river, safer in Seven than you’d ever been in Twelve. She watches as you grind up lavender, the smell filling up the cabin, fascinated as you explain the hobby that you’d turned into work. She fixes your guitar strings, teaches you some simple chords. You sit on the porch, playing while she sings.
“It suits you here, you know.”
“You think so?”
“I do.” She pauses. “I was so sorry to hear about your ma. She was a good woman. She was always kind to me. To everyone.”
“Thank you. I’m okay now, really. I like it here. It’s quiet, peaceful. I think that’s what she’d want for me.”
When she stares up at the sky, birds soaring up above, the rush of the wind through the trees, you can’t help but ask. This is all so perfect, and after so long you can’t bear the thought of her leaving again.
“Do you know how long…”
She smiles.
“Maybe a day or two? If that’s okay.”
You can’t hide your grin. You nod, and she glances up at you.
“Of course that’s okay. More than okay.”
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Her fingers press over yours as she demonstrates a final chord. She sits behind you as you strum, grinning at her, head spinning around and she’s so close, it’s almost surreal.
“You did it!” She’s beautiful. Vivid like a daydream, all technicolor.
“That’s all of it?”
“That’s all of it. Just play those four over again and you’ve got yourself a song.”
Your fingers intertwine, hand slipping from the guitar.
“Thank you for teaching me.” You whisper with a smile.
“You’ll remember it, won’t you?” There’s a solemness to it.
You frown.
“Of course I will. I’ll practice all the time.”
“You promise?” Her voice is desperate.
You slide the guitar to the floor and take her hand in yours, clasping it to your chest. Eyes making a silent oath.
“I won’t forget, Lucy Gray. I promise you.”
She nods, corners of her mouth turning up into a smile. You sigh.  
“You know I’ve kept everything, don’t you? All of it. Everything I have that reminds me of you.”
“I saw the pinecone on the mantelpiece. Was that from-”
“The time we made the fire in 12? Yeah.”
She lights up.
“You’re such a romantic. I love it. You-”
Your lips press to hers, suddenly overcome with emotion. When you pull away, she sees the tears on your cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” You cry. “I really didn’t, and… I don’t want you to leave, I-”
Her wide eyes fill with apology.
“I know. I wish I didn’t have to leave, sugar. I’m sorry it took me so long this time. I wish I could tell you how much it hurts to be away. It feels like I never really rest, until I’m back with you. Does that make sense?”
You nod, blinking away your tears.
“Will you do something for me, my love?” She presses, soft hands brushing away your tears.
“Anything.”
“Until tomorrow, can we pretend I’m not leaving? Pretend like this is our normal. Like we’ve got all the time in the world.”
You close your eyes, then look at her again, just as quickly, not wanting to waste a precious second.
“All the time in the world.” You whisper back.
True to your word, you make the most of it. She leaves you the next morning. You say a proper goodbye this time, holding her like you’ll never let go. But you do.
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Weeks stretch on and you can feel her slipping away again. The birds ease the pain, singing her pretty melodies back to you, like a worn-out record you’ve played on repeat. You throw the windows and doors open, filling the house with summer’s balmy air and the sound of her voice bouncing through the rooms as if she was still there. But soon enough, they forget her dulcet notes, and you’re alone with yourself again.
You track the time through seasons, like you always have. The summer draws to a bittersweet close, and you miss it before it’s fully gone.
You slip back into your routine. You take the boat out alone. The schoolchildren sneak up to your door at times, you hear them whispering. The witch rumours are back in full swing but you don’t mind them. You think it rather suits you. You open the door, much to their horror, and offer them some cookies. They come dutifully back for more on Saturdays, and you appreciate the bit of company.
You keep your promise, and it keeps her alive. You practice the chords she taught you, rough calluses starting to form on your fingers. You trace them at night when the world gets too quiet, and as winter closes in again it gets quieter still. The birds fly away to escape the cold, and you wonder if out there somewhere, she might see them. You find yourself praying the winter isn’t being too cruel to her, wherever she is.
One day, at the market, you’re sat at your stall selling chamomile and sage tea, and you hear her name, like a question in someone’s voice. They remember. They remember her. Your heart swells. You want to scream at the top of your lungs, it’s her. She is the girl you love.
She appears more and more in your dreams, some nights you’re restless, dreaming of her scared, running from something in a dark forest, sometimes you’re there by her side. Other times you wake with a start thinking she’s knocking at your door. You sprint outside into the darkness, barefoot on the damp grass, turning in circles before you catch your breath.
You could make yourself some valerian root tea as a remedy, but you don’t. You don’t mind her living on through your dreams. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
You’re comforted by this haunting.
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She finds you again. She always does.
“I saw the Covey a few months ago.” You tell her, the first night you spend together, lay in your bed, arms and legs a tangled mess, her hand in your hair.
Her eyes light up.
“Did you really? Close to here?”
You nod.
“They weren’t here for long. I’m not sure they recognised me, I was at the back of the room. It was pretty dark.”
Her eyes are wistful, filled with something you think you understand now.
“It all feels like so long ago, doesn’t it? I forget sometimes, just how long it’s been.” She looks to the floor. “And Maude Ivory – was she there? How’d she look?”
“She was.” You grin. “She looked happy. Healthy. She was smiling and dancing the whole night, like she always used to.”
You pause for a second, wondering if you should go back, mention that she, much like you, must still have an emptiness, a gap in her life even after all these years, but it’s like Lucy Gray reads your mind. Always one step ahead.
“That’s good.” She says decidedly. “It’s all I ever wanted for her. To be happy. Free. Thank you for telling me. I… I think about them a lot. About all of it. But I always hoped they’d move on without me.”
You’re quiet when you speak again.
“Lucy Gray, I don’t think anyone could ever move on from you.”
It lingers in the air. You speak up again.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can.”
“When I saw them that night, I stayed for the whole set, because… well, it’s silly,” you confess, “I couldn’t stop watching. I kept thinking that you’d show up. Like they’d just announce your name and they’d all cheer like they did in Twelve. Like you would get up there and sing, and see me in the crowd, and just… smile. Like you’d asked me to be there that night.”
It’s back again, that wistful look of hers.
“I sure wish I had been, sugar. But I think I’d rather be here with you than up on that stage, these days.”
Warmth fills your chest. “Yeah?”
She takes a breath.
“It’s important that people forget me. It’s safer this way. I don’t know what they’d do if they found me, but I know for certain I don’t plan to find out. Maybe one day… well, we’ll have to see. But for now, I could stay a little longer. Would that be okay? If I stayed until the week ends?”
Stay forever, you want to say. But you nod, holding her like she’s already gone.
When she leaves, it’s too soon. Always too soon. You stand in front of the cabin, wishing you could mold your hand around hers and never let go. You kiss her goodbye.
“You didn’t see me here.” She whispers against your lips.
“Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” You respond, and her lips turn into a half-smile.
“Now. Close your eyes.”
You press them shut, feeling her hands slip from yours. When you open them, she’s gone again.
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As the years go by, you stop hearing the name Lucy Gray altogether. She starts to feel more like a folk tale; a messy, ink splashed cursive on old parchment. You yearn to speak of her, to keep her legacy alive, but you can’t. You don’t. You remember, though. The world could forget about Lucy Gray Baird, but your memory of her lived on like a still-beating heart, and in turn it kept her alive. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t keep you alive, too.
You make quite the name for yourself, your apothecary bringing in customers from across Seven, sometimes further. So much so, that sometimes you wonder if when she passes through Twelve or Seven, she hears about you and remembers, counting down the days until she gets to come home.
She still haunts your dreams, slipping away as soon as you wake up. But she’ll come back. No matter how many times she leaves. Wherever you go, she’ll find you. She could go anywhere in the world, but she’ll always come back home to you. And you’ll be waiting for her, even if the world curses her name, even if the Covey forgets her too. You understand now. She’s as much yours as you are hers. And when she comes home, it’ll always feel like she never left. And that’s enough for you. It was always enough.
You leave your porch light on.
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taglist: (i'm just gonna tag people who showed interest in the excerpt/might like this!) @etfrin @darby-rowe @ohstardew @ohmeadows @sabrinasbd @ctrlovertheworld
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campoverlook-if · 3 months
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Welcome to Camp Overlook, Where We're Stronger Together!
DEMO LINK ll Updated: 4/26/24 ll Wordcount: 70k [W/O Code], 16k [Average]
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Secrets are all around you in the small town of Crescent Cove, and its local summer camp, Camp Overlook. A place where childhood memories mix with the unsettling realities of the unknown.
A place once known for freedom and friendship, is now shrouded in flickering lights crawling around the woods and campers vanishing into thin air. Far hidden in Hudson Forest is the truth of any person's most horrid nightmares.
As a counselor, you are entrusted with guiding a group of youngsters through their formative days of self-discovery as you grapple with the disturbing circumstances around you.
Whether you are a newbie or a returning former camper yourself, the secrets of the woods are still ominous and crippling. Among the cheer of camp, eerie events unfold before you.
Is Mr. Adams, the cheerful camp director, still a jolly man, or is there something now hidden beneath the surface? Is Crescent Cove, the quiet little mountain town, hiding a secret so great that it will do anything to keep it covered? Are the campers, lovable and rebellious, exhibiting behavior that goes against their nature?
Camp is supposed to fun, so why are you running for your life?
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Setting: Crescent Cove, USA (Fictional Small Town)
Genre(s): Horror, Mystery, Drama, Romance
Warning(s): This is an 18+ story for depictions of violence, death, sexual themes, and child endangerment.
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Customizable MC - Name, gender, appearance, sexuality, and personality are all choosable aspects to make your counselor.
Get To Know Your Little Campers - The kids look up to you at the end of the day and their relationships with you reflects on the story.
Discover The Mystery of Crescent Cove - Learn the truth on what exactly happened thirty years ago that changed a small town forever.
Find A Summer Lover - Choose from thirteen ROs all looking for someone to love. Maybe you’ll find more than just one...
Meet Your New Best Friends - Create lasting friendships that survive the test of time. Or lifetime rivals that are ready to hurt you at any chance.
The Camp Needs You - Save your friends and protect the camp, or watch it all disappear before your eyes.
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Lucas [M] - The King of the Woods
Stuck up, arrogant, and just one half of an irritating duo. Lucas always has to have the last word and the last thing anyone needs is to hear him whine about not getting it. It doesn’t help that the staff like him, the liar. Just be sure to stay out of his way or else.
Asher [NB] - The Sleeping Angel
Completely checked out of life, or at least, that’s what Asher wants everyone to think. There’s just a little something more hiding under that quiet exterior but Asher isn’t the type of person to open up to just anyone. They’ve got demons in their closet, and they’ve come along to camp for the ride.
Jack/Jasmine [M/F] - The Wise Old Tree
If anybody can round up a group of rowdy kids and teens together its this counselor. Calm and collected, they're there when the situation loses control and everyone needs to be working together on the same page. But this personality wasn’t perfected over night and even the calmest of seas can swallow those around them below.
Ethan/Ella [M/F] - The Friend of None
What some may call everyone’s best friend, they're at this camp for one thing and one thing only. To make a summer that’ll last forever. Leader of the pack, they know how to get the populous together and have a good time. But even the party animal has to get tired at some point and it's those moments when the real them emerges.
Ruby [F] - The Little Red Hen
Soft-spoken, polite, and kind to a fault. Ruby is the person you want when you need a comforting hand. A true healer and guiding life even if she is a little shy around others. But all healers have a story, Ruby just doesn’t have the cure to make it all go away.
William/Willow [M/F] - The Undisguised Wolf
They say if you gaze into the abyss, it tends to gaze back and tells you what you’re made of. That’s how it feels when this quiet storm enters a room, the room grows cold and the fun dies out. No one knows what lurks behind those eyes, and no one knows for sure if they’re the eyes of a monster.
Oliver/Olivia [M/F] - The Two-Faced Lover
Excitable, sweet, just the happiest bubble around. Around most people at least. But really, they're just an actor who knows how to play their part. No one knows the real them and maybe that's starting to have a toll on them. But it’s not like they can suddenly do a 180 and show the world who they really are. At least that’s what they like to think.
.....and seven others to discover! (Character Bios Here)
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Sweet Nothings (Part One)
Part Two
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Summary: Y/N is a lesser fae who is spending her life wandering around different Courts, everything changes when she ends up in Autumn and by accident meets the new High Lord.
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, lots of self doubt, mentions of dog attack? (not really the smoke hounds are good puppies who look terrifying)
English is not my language so I deeply apologise for any eventual mistake also sorry if it sucks, I reread it while tired.
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One day, when she was only a curious child, Y/N had found her nemesis in a bush of wild raspberries. It was the time of dreams and fireflies who, in her mind of little girl, plausibly lived inside thorny loops of greenery with delicious berries peaking from behind the leaves. But the fireflies were not pleased to find a young thief at their front door and that was the day Y/N got her first and only scar, a thin white line on one of her legs as a reminder to not walk through literal thorns too carelessly.
As an adult, Y/N had made it an habit to plant raspberries and roses in every place she had ever lived. She was a lesser fae, and despite everything, that meant a very long life. And she was part mortal, with no other choice than to live in the outskirts of every society she encountered in Prythian, destined to shine briefly for her talents but be quickly disposed of, when those around her could scent the doomed outcast in her.
Born in Winter she had wandered to Summer and from there she had thrown herself into the unknown, as the fates intended. She had lived a hundred lives, voraciously trying to fill her loneliness, learning new things all the time. No matter how much life humbled her, or how miserable she was sometimes. Today she was a patissier at the Court of Autumn, but in the past she had been a maid in Winter, secretly learning a language spoken in a remote mortal land under the light of a candle when the household she was working in was asleep. Silently, in the coldest hours of the night she had fought to stay awake and do something with herself that was different from scrubbing the floors of that old manor.
A century after that, she had been almost a beggar in the lands of Dawn, the witch that lived as an hermit and used every plant she found to create oils and fragrances and remedies, trying to match every smell with a specific feeling or memory.
Doing something other than what was expected from someone of her stance had been what had kept her alive for so long, what had kept her sane when all of her hopes were digging themselves deep into the ground of a place that was not her home.
And a home was the one thing that Y/N had never really known. She had lived in plenty of places, but in her mind a malicious sentence echoed constantly, 'the point of a home is to have somewhere to always return to'.
Her dreams, her hopes, her passions... Those were the things that made her feel like an individual and not like the lowly being she had often been treated like.
For many long years, books had been her only friends, the only comfort afforded to her by the world. And in dusty books from the mortal lands, wastepaper in Prythian, she had decided than one day she would live an autumn like the ones described in those stained pages. But the Autumn Court had been avoided like the plague by Y/N in her constant wandering, too many stories of cruelty had came out of that place for her to be courageous enough to dare enter that territory.
Months before, when she was still in the Day Court, working in one of the countless libraries, she had heard whisperings of the passing of the old High Lord of Autumn who apparently had died under mysterious circumstances. She decided to move to a closer court and observe Autumn, but once she had catched a glimpse of the rust coloured tree leaves in the distance she knew that it would not take too long before her curiosity consumed her caution.
Y/N lived in the frost covered land of Winter for three weeks before leaving the court she had been born in centuries before, to pry into a forest that reminded her of a particularly bright sunset.
_
A month later, Y/N still had no idea on how a simple walk into a forest turned into her working at the most important palace of Autumn. Actually she knew exactly how it had happened but the chain of events had been so confusionary to live that she preferred not to think too much about it.
It all started when she got lost, too mesmerised by the warm colours surrounding her to carefully stay close to the border of Winter. And it progressively got stranger when Y/N realised with horror that she was walking on a trail that ended in a village. Certainly a picturesque place she thought before trying to put some distance between her and the cabins without being noticed, failing so miserably that she pondered hiding in a cave and have another few almost hermitic decades.
Before she could manage to build up a convincing lie about places she was trying urgently to reach, she had found herself sitting for dinner in a real house as a guest of an extremely chatty family, ordered to sit by a matron that was as welcoming as she was intimidating. And after a week, awkwardly relishing the kindness of the villagers like a wild cat being fed for the first time, Y/N's first real attempt at socialising had been preparing delicious sweets for everyone who had been nice to her. She always stubbornly downplayed her talents, flaunting made her anxious and obsessed about everything that could go wrong. It all started with simple biscuits, buttery and spiced, served with warm goat milk to her hosts for breakfast. Continued with a plate of swirling pastel pink meringues and a strawberry marmalade cake, to an old widow that had tailored and gifted her a delicate dress decorated with numerous embroidered tiny lilac flowers, one of her favourites from when she had been young. Then she baked an earthy weat cake with chestnut cream for a very old fae who allowed her to use his personal library. After weeks of joyful carrot muffins, candied citrus fruits given away to the few younglings of the village at every occasion, and a sustained sequence of birthday cakes, her new ephemeral normalcy was shattered by the visit of some relatives of the family that had welcomed her the first time she had stumbled into that small settlement.
The lady of the house who had treated Y/N almost like a daughter had a brother who knew someone who worked in the kitchens of the Forest House and he swore that he could find a place as an assistant patissier for the maker of the cherry cake he was enjoying, cake that Y/N had baked that day, realising that the small house was fervently preparing for a special dinner.
'Forest House, what a stupid name for a palace' she thought, of course she would leave, the last thing she wanted was to be a burden for her hosts. Even if she had enjoyed her time in the village she was ready to leave, she would go back one day, she knew it.
Y/N had learned the hard way not to fuss over the past and not to get too attached to anything she met in her eternal wandering. She often found herself thinking that her life flowed just like water, unforgiving and unemotional warden of memories that were never allowed to get back to the shore.
She whispered her goodbyes into the morning mist and left without looking back.
_
To fall into a routine while working in the kitchens had been surprisingly easy. Just as easy and unexpected it had been starting to work there, Y/N had been quickly pushed into the role of one of the main patissiers by a small and nervous male who had declared himself too old to bother with the frills of the fine patisserie that was expected to come out of the kitchens of the Forest House.
Y/N found it almost relaxing, to work unbothered in her corner. Baking, preparing, assembling and decorating her various creations, had become the actions that paced her days. The chatter, the clashing of pots and the crackling of the fire were all background noises that kept her mind silent, free to focus on her job.
She rarely left the staff quarters, and when she did, it was to sneak into the gardens and explore them furtively, even if no one was ever there to enjoy them anyway.
Most of her free time was spent with the cats that lived of the kitchen's leftovers, she had realised with delight that the small feral creatures somehow enjoyed the soft singing that sometimes came out of her mouth when she was alone or too distracted.
As an outsider she felt shy when talking with her colleagues, and they had all run out of conversation points rather quickly. All they ever talked about was work, the new elusive High Lord that everyone was wary of and every scandal the nobles caused on a weekly basis. Y/N was not too interested in any of that, after all she did not know any of those people. She strongly suspected to have catched a glimpse of the new High Lord during one of her secret explorations of the gardens, when she had noticed a crowned head move away from one of the windows, in a confusionary mirage of auburn hair and an aura of arrogance. Her visits to the gardens had decreased drastically after that occurrence. Better careful than caught.
One night she decided to sneak into the gardens again, the day had been an almost nightmare and she needed to get away from the kitchens for a little while. It had been a busy day, lords from all over the Court were visiting the Forest House and the kitchens felt like a gigantic furnace. Y/N had been forced to take refuge in the ice cellar to finish up all of the desserts she was preparing to avoid them melting miserably in the torrid chaos. All of her cat friends had avoided the kitchens the whole day, frightened by the deafening sounds and strong smells.
Y/N threw herself on a bed of dense moss, breathing in deeply the scent of alyssum that permeated in that hidden spot of the gardens. She got up with a huff and started walking, falling asleep there would be a terrible idea. She took a new route, one that she had usually avoided during her past secret explorations, she felt bolder hidden by the darkness of the night. The unexplored part of the gardens was near the orangery and the large path in front of it was not covered by trees like the rest. Y/N gently slid her fingers over a fragrant line of muguets before stopping in front of the pot of an majestic orchid that had definitely seen better days, she hid the plant in a corner that was a little more bit sheltered from the crisp autumnal wind.
Y/N continued to walk until she reached an enormous and elaborate fountain. It was one of her favourites parts of the gardens, the intricate metal fence that surrounded it was rusty and the fountain itself was so vast that a small island had been placed at its center, the statues on it were covered with moss. Water came out of small statuettes of all around the perimeter but must of it was coming out of the island, the sound of it difficult to ignore. It was like something out of a book, a forgotten wonder in an abandoned garden. A group of ducks lived there and Y/N liked to gather berries from nearby bushes and feed the adorable animals. She could see them, despite the darkness, smoothly swimming towards her. She quickly picked a handful of blueberries and threw them in the water, her gesture met with a few happy quacking sounds.
Y/N smiled to herself and started to head in direction of the kitchens, hoping to sneak in her little room without awakening any of her colleagues. The night was silent and hearing a rustle behind her made her stop in her tracks petrified, she slowly turned around just in time for a monstrous beast to jump on her and make her fall onto the ground with a terrified screech. The beast, that she realised was a dog, was blocking her with its paws painfully pressed into her ribs, sniffing her face. Y/N wanted to scream loudly and desperately, but she held it back and tried to stay still, hoping that the dog would lose interest in her. Tears were running down her face and usually she wasn't one for praying, but in her mind she begged the Mother to save her from a fate as horrible as dying mauled by the jaws of that animal. It was licking her face, cruelly preparing to take the first bite...
"Let the little bunny go, Willow," said a male voice, good-naturedly scolding the dog. Y/N started sobbing when the monster- Willow- finally allowed her to breathe. The gigantic dog lowered her head to the ground and looked at the crying girl, Y/N could swear that she saw worry in those eyes and Willow tentatively licked her face, whining in a comically apologetic way for a hound so terrifying.
Strong arms grabbed her and pulled her up, in between tears she found herself looking at a tall male, clearly one of the nobles. It took her a few moments to connect the dots, the auburn hair and the hound, she could make out the dark shapes of more of them in the distance, his impeccable clothes and the slightly haughty expression... Y/N was almost sure that she was in front of the Hight Lord, and if the one scrutinising her in that moment was not him, he was probably one of his brothers.
Realising that she had been caught in the gardens she made a curtsy, trying to contain her trembling of fear from everything that was happening. He clicked his tongue, and Y/N held her breath terrified, she had annoyed him even more.
But instead of immediately reprimanding her or worse, he tilted her head up. There was a surprising gentleness in his gesture that clashed with the impassive expression on his face, his eyes on the other hand carried a glint of arrogance and amusement in them.
"Don't worry, little bunny, none of us bites without a good reason," he said, almost as if he was making fun of her. Then he produced a handkerchief and handed it to her, Y/N could not dare to accept it, she didn't want to stain the white and soft looking fabric with the mud that had dirtied her hands after his hound had made her fall. He rolled his eyes with an attitude that in a clearer state of mind she would have found infuriating and, still with that strange gentleness, he wiped her tears off. Y/N almost jumped back, embarrassed.
"Does the little bunny have a name?" He asked. Y/N was starting to get mildly annoyed with his attitude, he was talking to her as if she actually was a wild frightened creature of the woods.
She told him her name in a timid whisper and he repeated it, her name sounding almost comforting in his mouth. Y/N tried to put on a mask of composure.
"I deeply apologise, my lord. I should not be here and..." she said quickly and agitated before he interrupted her by putting a finger on her lips.
"Call me Eris," he said not looking at her and going to damp the handkerchief under the spilling water of one of the small fountain statuettes near them.
Y/N went pale, so he was the High Lord. He started cautiously cleaning her hands, making sure that she didn't hurt herself falling.
"I can do this on my own. You shouldn't bother yourself with me, my lord" she whispered but he ignored her, except for an annoyed look when she insisted in not calling him by his name.
"You don't feel it yet, don't you?" asked Eris frowning and observing her carefully. Y/N looked at him interrogatively. Then suddenly it all became clear and the realisation took her breath away. In a moment something snapped in between them and a single thread of gold tied their souls together. In the past she had tried to imagine what a mating bond could feel like but the reality of it was completely different from every single daydream she had secretly indulged in. The sheer and raw sense of belonging was something unexpected, it was as if the nostalgia that she often felt inside of her heart had been finally placated.
She would have fallen to the ground again if he didn't catch her, holding her in his arms almost with reverence.
"Never again you will fall" murmured Eris "I won't allow it".
"That is an unpractical intention" she replied. Uncertainty was rumbling in her mind, she wanted to run, to hide far away and disappear, to live like a wild animal in the forest and forget everything about all of this. He was her mate and a stranger, their lives were not supposed to touch, they were not supposed to meet, let alone being bound together by a superior force.
Y/N felt ashamed suddenly, she was being weak by allowing him to be close, to hold her up when she was supposed to ruinously fall. Someone of his stance would never accept to be shackled to a lesser fae, she did not want to delude herself into heartbreak and rejection. Maybe he was being polite for pity or for some perverse game, was she a rabbit about to fall into the jaws a fox?
She hastily put some distance between them, in that moment she really wished to have the ability to winnow.
Eris had a hurt look in his eyes when she backed away, it lasted a second before he composed himself once again and started speaking calmly, as if he knew of her intentions and he wanted to keep her from running like a frightened wild bunny.
"I have no intention to hurt you. I merely plead you to allow me to take care of you and to protect you, others may try to harm you for this bond between us. It is your choice to accept it or not but I would like to clarify that, for me, you are a miracle I never dared to hope in".
"You don't know me, don't use words you will regret," said Y/N, her face a mask of cold nonchalance that she sometimes used to protect herself with. But he simply smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Please," he whispered, in a vulnerable manner that made Y/N raise her brows with scepticism. How could she surrender to the unknown?
_
Y/N was standing in front of her mirror, doubtfully studying her reflection. Three months had passed since the night in the garden.
Two months of tedious hours with a dozen seamstresses who had been tasked to create a wardrobe for her that was worthy of the High Lord's mate. Three months of eating almost every meal with Eris and spending time in his office or in the gardens together. Three months of trying to fill her days with literature and other pastimes to keep her mind from thinking too intensely about the uncertainty of her future.
When she had accepted to be moved to another, more suitable, room for her security-excuse quickly added by Eris just when she was about to start protesting- she had insisted for her new room to be as simple as possible and she was sure that her mate had not taken that request into consideration in the slightest.
Her room was spacious and sumptuously decorated, the windows were tall, some of them partly made of intricate stained glass art, and there was even a terrace.
Y/N continued to stand in front of the large mirror, trying to find a way to make her hair presentable. She knew that she could never match the sophisticated looks of the ladies she had seen at court, wives and daughters of advisers and courtiers with intricate hairstyles and the behaviour of someone who belonged there in the Forest House. She had started to be almost ashamed of how her hair only reached her shoulders, she had used to love how the delicate waves framed her face and how comfortable keeping them at that length was, but at court she felt like a fish out of water. Shortly after the first dresses had been completed and started to be placed in her room, jewelry appeared as well and Y/N had refrained from wearing it. The jewels were magnificent more that anything she had seen before, she debated if the mating bond had somehow made Eris aware of the things that she would like when emeralds and dark amethysts, baroque pearls and aquamarines had started to appear. She huffed exasperated and took an elaborate pair of gold earrings with rose-coloured pearls, they matched her dress and hopefully counterbalanced the simplicity of her hair.
She picked up one of the cats that had mastered enough bravery to go find her deep into the labyrinth that was the palace when she had disappeared from the kitchens. She had tried to dissuade them from playing with the canopy of her bed but the finely embroidered fabric beared the signs of their mischievous claws. Willow had also found her way into her room, the hound looked silly with the cats playing with her tail while she observed the mate of her master move around the chamber.
The cat in her arms immediately started purring, Y/N had called the fluffy creature Luna, after the feline decided to live constantly gravitating around her.
She considered wearing a pale green mantle but decided otherwise, it was one of those rare days when the sun shone over the Autumn Court and she was determined to make the best of it.
Y/N left her chamber and started heading in direction of the gardens, she knew that she would find Eris waiting for her. It was starting to become a habit to promenade together around the gardens in the afternoon, her initial shyness had soon become curiosity and she had realised that conversing with her mate was quite enjoyable. When the mating bond had snapped, it had been a long time since Y/N had a long and significant conversation with another and now in three months she felt as if she had never talked so much ever before in her entire life. During the busy days that kept Eris in his office she usually went to curl up in one of the sofas there, with a book, silently thinking about why for some strange reason she did want to be in his presence anyway, even in silence when he tried to disentangle whatever problem the Court was facing.
He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his attention to the hounds enthusiastically wagging their tails, happy to be in the presence of their master. He looked up, feeling her presence, and offered a warm smile. She would never say it out loud, not after knowing him for such a short amount of time, but his smile made her think about the calm days of Autumn she had often daydreamed about in the past, when she had been wandering around the others courts always with a book in hand, reading the descriptions of warm coloured leaves and bonfires.
Eris reached for her hand as she approached him and gently kissed her knuckles before intertwining their fingers.
"Your grace is brightening my day," he murmured.
Y/N smiled at him, hoping to control the blush that she knew was making its way to her cheeks. She blamed the magic bond between them for how she had catched herself thinking about him in the last few days. In truth she had been relieved when she had realised how gentle he was with her, always making sure of her comfort; but she had seen the fire that was his power as much as it was his personality, the firmness and confidence he displayed in ruling his Court. The night before she had surprised herself thinking about how it would feel to kiss him, to have that gentleness turn into the fire she knew he had in him, to feel his hands and his lips fervently and hungrily explore her body. She had quickly put her absurd thoughts aside and it had been almost easy, but now she was walking next to him and it was impossible to ignore the warmth radiating from his body, making her remember every thought she had the night before. Y/N was tempted to snatch her hand away from his, but that would probably rise questions and maybe erase all of the progress they had made.
Eris guided her to a wisteria covered gazebo overlooking the woods that surrounded the Forest House.
"I was under the assumption that you had a meeting with your advisors this afternoon," said Y/N, not that she was upset to be there, but still the note she had received from him hours before had made her perplexed and a little guilty.
Eris grinned "No, the meeting had strangely disappeared from my schedule". She refrained from rolling her eyes, she didn't want him to ignore his duties just to entertain her, she didn't feel worthy of such bother.
He pressed a kiss to her temple as if he had sensed the tone of her thoughts. "Since the first time I saw you in this gardens, secretly smiling at every little plant as if they were your friends you had become the light of my days. And I will make sure to demonstrate that for as long as you will allow me," he murmured and then he added with a tender expression "Stop doubting your importance to me, my mate".
Y/N didn't respond, she looked away and started walking slowly in direction of the fountain, trying to hide her flushed cheeks and the troubled look in her eyes. She ignored the water and entered a path to the rose garden. She could feel Eris' eyes on her, studying her reactions and the awkwardness she had not presented in weeks. She asked herself what would he do if she broke their silent harmony of friendly hours spended talking and polite touches, they were mates but they acted like nothing more than two strangers who had recently started a discreet friendship which was also not far from the truth, but did he want her in the same way she had surprised herself wanting him lately? Or were they just trying to be civil after a superior force had pushed them together?
Y/N looked down pretending to find the falling of the leaves over the gardens interesting.
She did not notice Eris taking a rose from one of the bushes that were all around them until he brushed the flower against her arm and handed it to her.
Y/N didn't want to look at him, knowing that all of her thoughts were perfectly readable in her eyes, instead she leaned back, knowing that she would be met with his warmth. He chuckled when her back rested against his chest, his arms surrounding her waist.
"What did I do right to deserve such a treat?" whispered Eris in her ear.
Y/N shook her head and turned around, shyly leaving a delicate kiss on his lips and then observing his reaction, instinctively expecting him to laugh at her or to tell her that it was a mistake. The conviction of being unwanted and undesirable was stronger than her, deeply engraved into her heart by a life of solitude. She felt tears threatening to escape her self control.
But before she could regret her actions and run away, Eris' lips were on hers, hungrily kissing, tasting, savouring her with a passion that made her knees weak. When they broke away from the kiss she noticed tears in his eyes as well, and a fire that took her breath away. No one had ever looked at her that way and she was sure that no one would ever want her as fervently as Eris did.
They stayed there for a long time, both made speechless by the raw sense of belonging that had rushed over them, created by the mating bond and by something more. Neither of them had the courage to say it out loud yet, irrationally scared to shatter the enchanted silence of the rose garden with words. Without them noticing, love had made its way into their lives and it felt stronger than magic.
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bunnyyamor · 1 year
Text
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ nanami with a short reader headcanons
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nanami kento x fem! short reader ୨୧ ꒰ mentions nsfw content in here…mdni ꒱ not betad read, pet-names, a lot of fluff
pls comment + like + reblog; i would rlly appreciate it (๑˘︶˘๑)
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nanami sleeps on you
it’s so cute because you are like his little pillow. 
the day was rough for him, his job wanting more time from him and the work more stressful causing him to have a headache and just ache his limbs from the constant sitting and typing. 
you gave him so medicine, cooked him a delicious dinner and ordered him to go take a shower and sleep. he mattered so much to you. 
“i will take a shower now just, let me close my eyes for a second.” his voice was soft and rough. you were sitting beside him, his big hands wrapped around your tiny ones as you looked at his face. 
his attention and awake went out the window and instead were replaced by tiny snores and breaths. he was sleeping.
“aww poor baby.” you felt so bad for him. he always looked so tired. 
the next thing he did was so adorable you wanted to cuddle with him and carry him to bed yourself. 
you were so tiny compared to him in height. siting next to him you realized the height difference. 
his face looked so relaxed as he started drooping down your side. 
you tried to catch him but instead his head plopped on your shoulder. 
yes he may have been heavy but you could handle it. you needed to because you didn’t want to disturb him. 
his head was much bigger than yours and bigger than your shoulders. 
you were like his tiny pillow.
his eyebrows twisted in inoocene, perhaps dreaming. 
he mumbled something in his sleep under the lines of, “i love you baby girl. thank you for taking care of me.” ending it with a small smile. 
you smiled too, combing his soft hair with your fingers and kissing his forehead. “you can stay there as long as you want, love.”
him having to dip his head down low to kiss you
he was gone the whole day, of course fighting and doing his job. you understood the circumstances but it still didn’t make it easier.
you missed your nanami.
missed his arms around you, his smell, his voice. all of it. you craved it. 
but the most thing you missed were his kisses. 
you hated not having him! it made you grumpy. 
finally, the mystery man returned home. bags under his eyes, suit still on, which turned you on even more. 
nanami loosened his tie as he sat in front of the tv. 
you knew he wanted to relax but he didn’t even come to you. 
you coughed, “mr. nanami. why haven’t you say hello to me?” and the fact he didn’t even kiss you when walking in. 
you hadn’t been kissed the whole day. it was as if he was trying to see how long you could last.
nanami combed back his hair as he got up with a moan, “i’m sorry baby. it’s just been rough at work. but you’re right. how’s my sweetheart doing?” he would closen up to you. towering over you that you had to look up at him. 
his hands would come up to pat your head and caress your cheek. 
“you’re sweetheart is not doing good,” you pouted. your lip sticking out like a child. 
nanami chuckled, “hmm? why is that?”
you crossed your arms, “because, you haven’t even kissed me all day.” 
nanami bit his lip to try to stop him from bursting out laughing. 
“so…kiss me!” you stood on your tippy toes as you leaned against his torso. your lips pursed out with a grunting sound as you closed your eyes. 
“okay, baby wants her kiss,” nanami smiled as he lowered down, dipping his head to kiss your lips. 
your head seemed so tiny in his palms. 
you smiled in the kiss as you both moved in sync and nanami deepened the kiss.
when you wear his shirt
fuck, you felt your legs tremble and weak
you were very much sore
last night nanami was fucking you so good, long deep strokes inside you as he made you cum more than once. 
you woke up with a groan, hurting
you saw beside you nanami still fast asleep, the covers slipping, showing slightly his v lines
you wanted to let him sleep so you got up, not disturbing him and noticed the chill air
you wanted to slip on something simple and loose so you saw his t-shirt hanging on the chair and decided to use his shirt
it was huge on you!
the end of it made it to your knees and it was loose and flabby
it looked like a dress on you
you smiled bashfully at the size different
as your bare feet padded on the floor to go have waffles for breakfast your face met with nanami’s bare chest.
“you’re wearing my shirt?” he held onto the loose fabric.
you looked down, not wanting to be embarrassed. “yes. it’s super comfy.”
nanami pulled you in closer by the shirt and kissed your lips. “i like it on you. you look adorable.” he grabbed your tiny hand and walked with you out to the kitchen, loving how he wore the pants to the pjama set and you wore the shirt. 
he loved how big it was on you, and something ignited in him seeing you wearing his shirt.
you jump in his arms
nanami has fought curses. monsters that could eat your flesh. has fought humans with unexplainable power
nanami has done it all
and yet here he was racing to your shared apartment after fightingin curses because you were screaming on the phone
“nanami get here quick. help!”
his heart raced at what might have happened to you.
feeling a lump in his throat he pushed back tears, needing to get to your safety. he always wanted to protect you. he wouldn’t know what to do if you were gone. 
but when he showed up and actually saw your problem
“y/n, what’s wrong princess?” he said breathless.
“it’s a SPIDER!”
you were literally standing on the counter, screaming at a wolf spider as it walked around like it owned the place
nanami had his hands on his hips like a stern parent, “are you serious? this is what you called me for?”
“nanami, get it! it’s coming for me!” you screamed high pitched. you were deathly afraid of spiders
nanami rolled his eyes. 
the spider made it’s way up the cabinets and you jumped down with a squeal and jumped in nanami’s arms, “get it! get the fuckin spider!”
you were so small and short in nanami’s arms. 
your legs wrapped around his stomach and your arms wrapped around his neck, your face hiding there as well. “oh please nanami get the spider. it’s scarring me”
nanami wanted to kiss you all over with how cute you were. 
he held you under your butt holding you closer. 
he loved how adorable you were holding him and being afraid
what an innocent fear
“it’s okay baby, i got you.” nanami’s deep voice soothed you as he kissed your cheek. 
still holding onto you, you almost choking him, he stepped on the spider
“i-is it dead?” your lips trembled and you had tears in your eyes. 
nanami chuckled, “baby, i thought something happened to you? i came running as fast as i could.”
“i’m sorry…thank you for killing the spider for me.” you kissed his nose, still holding onto him. 
nanmi still had his glasses on and work attire, even having his cursed weapon with him
he looked like he would go into battle with a fuckin spider
“it’s okay love, i’m just glad you’re safe.”
dancing with you
on a yacht, orchestra music blaring, good food, you and nanami dressed to the nines
life was good
nanami loved how perfect you were in his arms
he loved holding you tight against him as you two leaned against the yacht railing, staring at the stars
a beautiful song stared playing and nanami stuck his hand out to you like a gentleman, “i would love to ask the princess for a dance?”
you giggled like a school girl, living out your fantasy
“why yes, my prince.” you took his hand and he led you to the middle of the dance floor
just you and him, peace and quiet
nanami loved how precious you were
so fragile like a dove
you body snuggled up to him as you two danced, bodies close
your head laid against his chest as you heard his heart beat
the heart that beat for you
you gave a satisfied hum
as you two twirled and he dipped you, the way you were like a little stuffed animal to nanami, so cute made him blush
you were so adorable being so tiny
he just wanted to pick you up and give you a million kisses
being drunk with nanami
“what a fuckin bitch,” you spat as you saw the sport on the tv
you both were at a bar
you were absolutely wasted drunk
nanami was surprised at how many drinks got you
he was expecting more but realized it only took a small amount for you because of the size difference
he still was nurturing his glass while he called it done for you
“awww c’mon nanami, one more!” you whined like a child
“no. you’re drunk y/n. besides you’re making a ruckus.”
you glared at him
‘m’fine,” hiccup
nanami shook his head as he tried to get you to drink water
to think only a few drinks got you this drunk, it was astounding to nanami
“hahaha, nanami i love you baby. i love you so much. mmmmmmmm, you’re meh favoriteeeeee hubbyyyyyyyyy.”
nanami couldn’t help but chuckle, “we’re not husband and wife yet, babe.”
“hmmm? wellll, soon we gots to chang’em thater.”
nanami patted your head
“i lover this man to the moon and back, yessir! and his cock is soooooo big i want to eater right now!” you shouted at the top of your lungs
nanami’s eyes widened in embarrassment because everyone was looking at him
he covered his face to try to hide his red face
“that’s it, wer’re leaving.”
“whuh-why? i’amer just getting started” hiccup
nanami knew you weren’t going to come willingly so he picked you up and threw you short body over his shoulder like you were a bag of rice
affectionate
he obviously is the bigger spoon and loves to coddle you in bed and bear hug you
like a weighted blanket
when he wakes up early for work he will give you a kiss to your forehead, loving the way your hair smells
the way you smell
it hard for him to unglue himself from you in the bed
then when days he has work off you usually wake up first so you can make him breakfast
like i said earlier youll be in his shirt making waffles or eggs
whatever he wants
while its cooking you’ll sit at the breakfast table enjoying your cup of coffee
sleep is still evident in your eyes as you yawn like a cute kitty in his eyes
he likes to greet your small form by kissing atop your head, chuckling at how cute you get by almost jumping up from his rudeness
he loves giving you forehead kisses
even while your cleaning the dishes he will tower over you and grab your face to give you a wet kiss
tongue swiping in between your lips as he feels the need to devour your cute little body
wedding day
he was so nervous
so were you
anxious chills and shaky hands
you found a dress perfect for your size
it was enough but not too much that it overpowered you
it was perfection
you knew nanami would love it
finally when you showed him he started crying
he couldn’t help it, tears just streamed down his face, happy tears
he even was blushing and a giggly mess
your heart was full of love
He was the man for sure you wanted to marry
The height difference was so cute because you had this elegant delicate poofy dress and he wore his nice tight masculine suit
He dipped down to kiss your forehead, giggling so happy with happy tears as he took your face in his hands 
“You look so beautiful baby”
Between him blushing and his tears you started tearing up as well just because you love this man so much
“I can’t believe you're my wife”
“I can’t believe you're my husband. I am mrs. Kento”
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angel’s little words - this is kinda self indulgent bc I am 4’11 but I got all these headcanon ideas and inspo from this tiktok video, I hope u all enjoyed some domestic casual nanami
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badperson-8 · 3 months
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Butting In (Part 2) Satan and Asmodeus
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Male/AMAB MC finds an intriguing sex toy – a magical fleshlight, which is automatically connected to the body of whoever haunts their sexual fantasies. How will each brother react if MC succumbs to the temptation and uses the device?
amabMC x Satan | amabMC x Asmo
2.7k words | NSFW | Porn without plot | gn!pronouns MC | AO3 link
Content Warnings: Dub-con | Anal Sex | Mentions of Blood and Violence (not during sex)
Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)
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Satan
Satan breathes heavily as he opens his eyes and looks around. There are three unconscious bodies (maybe even corpses) lying at his feet. Their flesh is all torn up, lacking either an arm or a leg. Satan stares at his hands, covered in blood, trying to remember how he got to this point. As the red liquid dries up and loses its pleasant warmth, he recalls what exactly happened.
Satan was on his way to the bookstore to find a book from the Human world MC mentioned earlier, when he heard a strange commotion in the alley nearby. He had some spare time, so he decided to check what was going on. There he found three young demons who were having fun by torturing a cat. The poor creature had multiple wounds all over its body.
The next second, Satan was standing in his demon form with blood on his hands. Well, that certainly explains things. It’s a relief that the reason for his temporary memory loss was rage. It would be unfortunate if he started having memory problems; his brain is an important storage of countless useful pieces of information after all.
Satan ignores the quiet whining of one of the demons - torturers of cats don’t deserve life in his book. It’s much more important to find the wounded kitten. It is known that cats have some mysterious connection to the Devildom, the land itself protects them, granting magical abilities that also include fast regeneration. They are much more vulnerable in the Human world than here, but still. It’s important to check this cat just in case, and maybe carry it to the vet clinic.
Satan takes a few steps further to the alley when he suddenly feels the overwhelming pleasure spreading across his whole body. The demon stops in shock, trying to analyze what provoked this reaction. Definitely not the recent massacre; Satan knows himself well enough to know that while violence satisfies his needs as the Avatar of Wrath, it doesn’t turn him on. Maybe the reason for such a reaction is the fact that it’s a rare occasion when he almost feels like a hero? Sexual arousal has a strong emotional component, after all. Even simple feelings like happiness or excitement can become erotic stimuli under certain circumstances…
The second wave of pleasure feels less overwhelming, because Satan was mentally ready for it. And he got a chance to examine the reaction of his organism more attentively. He notices a pattern, which leads him to believe that the source of these disturbances is…
His own backside. Satan shakes his head, his mind refuses to accept this information. It is indeed a delicate place with lots of nerve endings, but it can’t produce such… reactions on its own, without any stimulation.
Satan frowns and closes his eyes, examining his magical energy. Just as he thought, there are faint traces of the curse on him. The demon growls when he feels how invisible touches slowly move past his anal sphincters and get into his rectum. He has never understood why nature decided to make this particular place so sensitive. And now he has to endure such humiliation because of this. Satan’s pupils become narrow slits as he sinks into pure wrath.  
Satan snarls as he tries to ignore the distracting sensations and concentrate on the source of the curse. He can’t discover the essence of this spell or artifact, but he got something even better: a destination. Satan bares his fangs in something that almost looks like a victorious smile. His demon form makes him fast and efficient, so he jumps as high as he can and digs his claws into the brick wall, climbing up.  
Satan reaches the roof and starts running towards the source of the curse, imagining how he will rip out the intestines of the one who is behind all this. The sudden feeling of something wet inside him makes the demon trip off, but he grabs the side of the building just in time to save himself from a nasty fall. Satan roars, feeling his blood boil from fury. He jumps back on the roof, but this time he gets on all fours and starts sprinting as fast as he can.
The desire to tear apart the fool who dares to do this to him overtakes his brain. Satan can only concentrate on the magical trail and annoying boner that makes the way more difficult and longer than it should be. He doesn’t even realize where he’s sprinting. His eyes no longer see the road, as he feels something hot and heavy pushing past the tightened rings of muscle. Satan can only hear his own heartbeat and the blood pumping in his head as he gets closer to his goal.
Roof. Long jump. Concrete. Porch. Door. Fuck the door. Window. Jump…
The window shatters loudly, scratching the demon, but he couldn’t care less. Satan jumps straight at the target, dropping them on the floor and climbing on top of them. He swings his arm forward, ready to dig his long claws into the flesh…
But as he sees MC’s face, he redirects his hand to the side, scratching the floor right next to their face. They stare at each other in shock, unable to understand what is happening.
Satan silently turns his head around and sees some kind of artifact attached to MC’s hard dick. Even his monstrous face, covered in blood, and sudden attack didn’t kill their arousal. In fact, it seems they’re getting even harder…
Satan immediately looks back at MC, his eyes widening even more. MC just lays under him silently, their brain is completely shut down. Satan also has to gather all his strength to be able to think somewhat rationally. So, they find him… attractive? Even in his demon form? Even when he looks like… this? And it was them the whole time? They are… inside him?
A sudden moan from MC makes Satan almost jump to the ceiling like a scared cat. He only now realizes how fast his body relaxed as soon as he realized that MC was the cause of this… misunderstanding. His muscles stopped violently squeezing MC’s dick, so now the human must experience whole new sensations. Satan’s body feels it as well. Now, when his mind is not against the sudden intrusion, he starts to… enjoy it.
Satan tilts his head in curiosity, examining the human. His pupils slowly dilate as his shiny, green eyes absorb every hint of pleasure on MC’s face. His sharp, spiky tail carefully slides along MC’s body, stopping its tip near the artifact. It slowly wraps around the device, grabbing it tightly. Satan finds himself smirking when he sees the confused reaction of the human beneath him.
His tail gently moves the artifact up, along the hardened dick of MC. His claws uncontrollably rupture the floor near the human’s head as he feels the resumed movement inside. Satan and MC moan synchronically as the tail starts moving the artifact up and down, bringing them both immense pleasure.
Satan feels the human’s hands on his hips. Their trembling fingers attempt to unzip his pants and get to his dick. It takes them several tries, but they prevail in the end. MC starts massaging Satan’s cock, pumping it to the pace of their thrusts into the artifact. The demon growls in approval and satisfaction, quickening the movements on his tail.
The tempo of the pushes becomes intense and uncontrollably rough. Satan doesn’t dare put his hands or lips on the human, fearing to injure them with his sharp claws and fangs. MC doesn’t have such a problem, though, so they use this advantage to tease the mighty demon. Satan grumbles, but it feels too good, so he allows MC to do everything they want.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach their peak. Satan comes on top of his human, shivering with his whole body. He inhales deeply the smell of sex and pleasure that fills the whole room. Satan can’t hold in a soft purr as he settles on top of MC, not intending to get up anytime soon.
…Later that day, when Satan decided to finally release MC, they both visited the infamous alley. Bodies were nowhere to be seen, but they found a completely healthy cat, who ate all the treats they brought. It seems, the Devildom’s magic treats cats even kinder than it’s described in books. And demolishes everyone who tries to disturb the peace, one way or another.
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Asmodeus
Today is a big day. Asmo has been chasing this opportunity for several months. He finally became the new face of Goetia Cosmetics. This company primarily specializes in hair products, but after a recent rebranding, they decided to start releasing makeup kits. It was a huge deal ever since they announced it, and every model, influencer, and actor wanted to be the ambassador of the new cosmetic line.
Asmodeus wasn’t so desperate, of course. Well, at least he hid it very well. In truth, he wanted this job just as much as everybody else. It was quite overhyped, true, and he totally understood it. But even MC, who wasn’t very knowledgeable about the fashion world of the Devildom, heard about this advertisement campaign. The second MC mentioned Goetia Cosmetics in a casual conversation with him, Asmodeus knew that he couldn’t let some second-rate model steal the spotlight. Not when MC had their eyes on this campaign.
The only problem was that Goetia Cosmetics didn’t want to hire well-established and popular celebrities. They were looking for a new face, someone fresh and unique. So they dared to refuse Asmo when he graciously offered his services.
But Asmo was in the business for too long to let this little unpleasant episode stop him. So, after a couple of polite, professional meetings and death threats, the company quicklyunderstood how foolish it was to refuse the most beautiful and popular demon in the whole Devildom. They even raised the fee for modeling in their campaign after Asmo semi-publicly assumed that they were looking for a new face purely to pay less to a presumed young and gullible model.
But Asmo is already regretting his decision to join this campaign. Deadlines are always brutal in this sort of business, but this is a new level of incompetence. Asmodeus sighs, checking his look in the mirror one last time. The company managed to do wonders from a marketing standpoint. But when it came to creating the actual material for the campaign, it became clear that the people in charge weren’t ready for a project of such scale. Deadlines were moved and missed multiple times on each stage of the project, and now they’ve reached a critical point. His photos were supposed to be published long ago, but they didn’t even start shooting them.
So now, it seems like the whole photoshoot will last for only one day. Asmo has no right to make a single mistake, he can’t feel ill or tired. He needs to deal with it like always, professionally.
Even if he feels suspiciously pleasant sensations in the area of his butthole. Asmo sighs once again, not sure if he should be pissed off or happy. MC chose literally the worst time to find the little present Asmo left for them. Asmodeus thought that it would make for a thrilling little game. He had no doubts about who would be in MC’s sexual fantasies. So he waited. And waited. And waited. But MC took their sweet time.
Okay, Asmodeus didn’t explain what this device was made for, and he simply left it in MC’s bedroom as a surprise. Maybe he chose a not so obvious spot, but still. MC should’ve figured out what this thing does long ago. And they finally did it. Fantastic.
“Mr. Asmodeus, sir. We’re starting in five minutes. Are you ready?” A little, round demon with impressive horns squeaks at Asmo, trembling slightly.
“Yes.” Asmo simply responds, wincing as MC’s fingers gently penetrate his hole. The little demon decides that Mr. Asmodeus doesn’t want to be disturbed, so they quickly run away.
Asmo examines his face in the mirror, wondering whether he’ll manage to hide his growing erection and unavoidable moans, sitting under the spotlight in front of several cameras. He’s quite good at being sneaky and masking naughty activities in public. But this is too public for his liking.
MC’s fingers gently play with his hole and move deeper, no doubt feeling Asmo’s warmth inside the artifact. They’re taking their sweet time again; they clearly don’t intend to finish in the next five minutes. Such delicious torture. Asmo smiles softly, teasingly squeezing the fingers with his muscles…
“Mr. Asmodeus, sir! We’re ready to start!” The same round demon returns, interrupting Asmo’s thoughts. Have five minutes already passed? Preposterous. So he was glued to the mirror this whole time, lost in the sensations from MC’s skilled fingers. A new wave of rumors about Asmo’s narcissism will certainly start after this, but he couldn’t care less.
Asmo straightens up and pridefully walks towards the chair on which he’ll spend the next several hours. At least he doesn’t have to advertise clothes, only the makeup on his face. He crosses his legs and casually places his hands in the area of his groin, attempting to hide his quite visible erection.
A lovely makeup artist runs towards him, fixing the last minor details on his face before the photoshoot starts. This is the exact moment MC chooses to apply some lube inside the artifact, making Asmo shiver and passionately breathe out on the verge of a moan right into the makeup artist’s face. Needless to say, the artist runs away immediately, blushing and stumbling. Well, at least the whole predicament is entertaining. But Asmo needs to control himself better to avoid harassment lawsuits.
And MC definitely doesn’t make it easier for him. He feels how their hard dick thrusts inside, going all the way in in one motion. The camera clicks right in front of Asmo’s face, capturing all the little details. The demon clenches his fists, doing his best to maintain a joyful smile, but it’s hard when MC immediately takes the crazy pace and pushes inside him at tremendous speed. Asmo is well aware of how mind-blowing his ass can be. He’s the Avatar of Lust, after all. But he never knew he would wish to be a little less perfect.
Because MC on the other side simply loses their mind, ramming the artifact with all their might. Asmodeus has to utilize every last piece of his acting skills to not show what he actually feels. He desires to spread his legs and take the whole length of MC’s dick, over and over. He wants to milk the damn thing, absorbing every last drop of MC’s cum. He wishes he could whimper and scream from pleasure as loud as he wants.
But he calmly sits on the chair, politely smiling and obediently turning his head 10 degrees to the side, so that the lighting illuminates his features better, just as the photographer wants it. Asmo’s boner leaves prominent wet stains on the fabric of his pants. He can feel it as he tries to stop his legs from shaking.
Asmo feels MC coming inside him, holding in a sigh of relief and smiling more brightly than ever. Finally, he gets a chance to take a break. Maybe he’ll even manage to make the boner go away if he concentrates on the photographer’s large pimple, which shines provokingly on his nose.
But the bright smile instantly disappears, as he feels MC going for the second round. Such stamina is quite admirable, but not in this situation.
“Asmo? What happened?” The photographer worryingly asks, noticing the disappearance of the smile.
“…Nothing. Please, continue.” Asmo smiles once again, bracing himself for a very long photoshoot.
…The campaign was a tremendous success, despite all the little problems during the production period. Asmodeus managed to make a ton of high-quality photos for the ad. But there was one particular picture that was used the most and became the official photo of the whole campaign.
That photo pictured Asmo’s most genuine and happiest smile the world has ever seen. It was the exact moment when, after several hours of sweet torture and several rounds of getting his ass destroyed by MC’s dick, Asmodeus gave up and let himself come right in front of the whole filming crew and a dozen cameras. All while keeping his cheerful smile on. Because that’s what being a professional means.
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Part 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)
P.S. The art doesn't belong to me, it's an official art from Shall We Date: Obey Me! (The Mysterious Box card)
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splitster · 7 months
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answering MORE asks!!
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featuring: pom wraith au, ✨discovered secrets✨, character motivations and more! check it out! ↓↓
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now THAT's a question... it VERY much depends on the story!! it could range from immediately supportive, to shocked confusion, to terrified repulsion-- i've made art for a few different ideas... but ultimately it depends on how close they are (and the circumstances under which she's revealed)
Dingo's loyalties are going to lie with the rescue corps. he's been there for a while, and he's friends with his coworkers. he especially has loyalties towards Yonny and Shepherd (one being his childhood friend, and the other his captain that he's grown to tremendously respect). so if he thinks that his crewmates and his friends are going to be endangered, he'll always side with them first! so hopefully whenever Pom is revealed, he'll realize Pom isn't a threat!!
i think he'd be prone to accepting Pom's secret, especially if they've started becoming friends. maybe she has to protect him out on the field (dumbass tried to show off and it backfired), and she gets hurt in a way that reveals she's not human. maybe Dingo encounters Pom accidentally when she's in her full wraith form, and he's entasked by the rescue corps with monitoring this "Rose Wraith" to make sure it's not a danger to their mission, and at some point he realizes the Rose Wraith and their new recruit are one and the same. there's a lot of possibilities!
they're fun to think about... i do want to pick an idea to flesh out with art or maybe some writing hehe!!
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i will admit i've never looked too hard into that particular theory, so it's not something i had or will have in mind when making this au... there's certainly something very mysterious about the planet that neither the crew nor Pom understands. there's a strange connection between the planet PNF404 and the wraiths too!
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she can't shrink her core that much, so it'd have to be something that can fit a ball in it. otherwise yeah i guess she could just recreate gmod prop hunt💖
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OHOHHOHOHO its funny you ask this, i literally have a comic drafted about this exact scenario
you'll see parts of this in the comic i'm making, but think about it from Pom's perspective: humanoids are really weak, squishy things. they can die from the silliest things! if they get stabbed they'll die, if they hit their head too hard they die, they can't even lose limbs without being at threat of dying. compare that to Pom as a wraith -- the only thing that's fatal to her is her core getting shattered. she's way tougher than the others, and she doesn't have a good frame of reference for what IS fatal to humanoids because they seem to be able to die from anything...
so when Dingo gets hurt out on the field, she'd freak out thinking Dingo is straight up dying. if they're close enough, she'll sacrifice her cover as a regular person and go wraith mode to save him from any further damage. she asks him over and over if he's dying, and when he says no she'll ask if he's lying. she's panicking! when she's dragging him back to the ship and when the adrenaline wears off, she might get teary eyed. she genuinely thought she was about to lose her crewmate... someone she'd started to consider a friend. she's never had anyone to lose before and it's a very scary feeling!
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there are a LOT of really good questions here!! i can't fully dive into everything here or else i'd end up writing a novel but i will try!!!
pom is a VERY simple creature at first. i haven't decided on which planet she grew up on -- probably a random civilized colony -- but she grew up on the fringes of society. she's always been an observer and in the background; she's experienced enough to loosely know how to fit in, but a lot of social nuances are lost to her because of her inexperience.
but (unfortunately) there's some shit you have to do if you want to engage in society, one of which is make money. if you want a place to live you gotta make some dough, and through some fortunate coincidences she happens upon the rescue corps recruiting advertisements. one thing leads to another, she ends up training and eventually recruited as a new officer. whoever was supposed to background check her clearly was sleeping on the job, because a simple Space Google would've revealed her listed home planet of Karut to be fake (when they asked where she was from she panicked and said carrot💖)
pom has spent so much of her life simply drifting on the outskirts of a civilization she doesn't belong to. she doesn't realize (until she has friends to lose) that she was very much lonely. when she's on the rescue mission she comes to understand herself and what she wants a lot better, but that also precariously places her right on the edge of tragedy because now there's stakes if her secret is found out
she might be learning more about humans every day, but ultimately they're still a mystery. there are so many nasty potential outcomes if her secret is found out, ranging from being outcasted to a worst case scenario where they attack her or experiment on her indefinitely. she's never had anything to lose before, so now that she does she's terrified of the possibility!
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realistically, if pom's secret was found out in the middle of a mission, i think most of them would be concerned but ultimately accepting. their new recruit is just a little gooey, but that's okay! she's still a star officer, and they couldn't execute this rescue without her! (shepherd is terrified of Creatures though so she'd take a while to warm up. yonny however is already chomping at the bit to experiment on her)
however... if they thought wraith pom might've replaced their original recruit, that'd go horribly. imagine being shepherd -- she'd think that the new recruit she spotted at training camp DIED, and was replaced by a gooey abomination at some point during this rescue mission. that's terrifying to think about, they don't know anything at all about what pom is so they might fear the others being picked off and replaced, or any amount of other awful things.
likewise, if they realize wraith pom has a connection to this planet (and to the other wraiths), they might suspect she's trying to tear them apart from the inside. pom is a complete unknown, and that's a scary thing! so ultimately their reactions depend on the circumstances of how she's revealed
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thank you!! i already talked a little about everyone else, but captain Olimar is an interesting one. if you consider strictly the canon of pikmin 4, then he would simply be curious. he's never met an alien creature with the same level of sentience as him, and you KNOW he'd be taking writing and taking notes on her lol
however, if you consider a slight deviation from canon where olimar had a run in with the plasm wraith, his reaction would be WAY different. wraiths have a certain unsettling aura to them (it's how wraiths can sense other wraiths nearby), and if olimar spent an extended amount of time around the plasm he probably would've picked up on that sense. the first time he sees pom exposed, even if its just her partial form, that horrible awful sensation would prickle the back of his mind. she feels like the plasm, and that would be terrifying and AWFUL. olimar is a very kind man, but he's not about to subject himself to any more trauma (or endanger the nice rescue corps folk who saved him), so he'd spearhead the effort to contain pom (with the intention of ousting her back whence she came)
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THANK YOU!! please hold pom like a hamburger. she'd just stare at you with that blank ass expression
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my life long crusade to draw all pikmin characters screaming...
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THANK you!! i love those silly cartoon people
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PNF-404 is basically like a buffet to her with all the creatures she can eat for biomass. she can control her size but this is a funny thought
"There was a terrible accident with the ships miniatizer... I flipped the m to w and now I'm big...."
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oh hi!! uh i've never used fire alpaca, I used Paint Tool Sai for the longest time before switching to Procreate. I also sometimes use clip paint studio but Procreate is my go-to art program!
i could make a FAQ but i don't know what i'd put there HLIHAIERHA i don't have too many frequently asked questions
thank you for reading this far!! i also appreciate everyone sending in asks💖, I try to read all of them even if I can't get to them right away. I'll get through them all... slowly...
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