#DON'T YOU EVER LOOK AT MY WIFE AGAIN

[introspectivememories]

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[hauntingblue]

Max and anne I am holding you both carefully in my hands

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo having a brutal rivalry with your son.

You'd promise your now eighteen year old, "Sen, your father and I didn't part on bad terms. It would be nice if the two of you could get along."

Sentaro would scoff, crossing his arms and leaning in the kitchen doorway. "Strongest sorcerer in the world and couldn't protect his wife?" You touch a hand to the large burn mark on your chest. Sen watches the movement and shakes his head. "Like I could ever get along with a guy like that."

~

Imagine your son is the splitting image of his father, save for how his hair grows in black, then fades to white when it grows past the roots.

"You have my pretty face, but I don't know where you got such a shit attitude." Sen would be face to face with his dad while he was on business at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Satoru would look him up and down. "I know for a fact that your mom never taught you that."

Sen's face would contort into a look of disgust. "Don't act like you know her."

"I know her in ways no one else ever could--"

Uncle Suguru would be forced to intervene before everyone got to find out what happens when two hollow purples collide.

~

Imagine Satoru still loves you - he never stopped, of course - and visits you at the house while your son is on a mission.

"You miss me, don't you, mama?" he'd murmur in your ear while he has you crowded up against the living room wall. "You have a little mini me running around, so I bet you think about me all the time, huh?"

He'd be right of course, but life was so hard for you and your son after the divorce that you're reluctant to start up anything again. You'd always love Satoru, but you hadn't seen enough of him to know if he'd changed since you were last together. That said, it's hard to remain rational when the love of your life presses his lips to yours.

You won't get enough time to consider, however, since your ex will have been ripped away from you and sent flying through the opposite wall. Your son, just as tall as his dad, will be standing protectively in front of you, fists clenched tight.

Sen wouldn't look at you when you gently touch his broad back in an attempt to calm him down.

"Don't get too close, mom," he'd say with gritted teeth. "The old man's about to learn he's not the strongest any more."

~

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[seafumes]

rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.

oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."

the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.

that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)

rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:

"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."

rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.

and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."

rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.

buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)

indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."

rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.

"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."

"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""

rich husbands <33

[caramelkoo]

behind your touch (18+)

jungkook x reader

genre : married couple, simp husband!Jungkook

summary : two introverts explore the sexier and much more hotter side of their relationship.

warnings : lots of smut and fluff, dual pov, Jungkook is a wild one and he's also a simp, they're adorable, oc is a tadbit nervous, they're newly married and so in love with eo, breeding kink, unprotected sex (please be safe), Oral (giving and receiving), Jungkook is dominant, hair pulling, spanking, he loves her ass, masturbating together. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : i have no idea which freaky monster was sitting on my shoulders when i wrote this. enjoy and if you're ovulating, goodluck. kisses <33

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your pov

"One more, honey. Just give me one more"

Your husband's fingers pump into you as you tweak your nipples between your forefinger and thumb. The pleasure is so intense and burning, you almost see stars. Jungkook is on his stomach between your legs wide apart, his left hand is grabbing your left tit while his three fingers thrust into your wet pussy, thumb rubbing your clit. His face is hovering above yours and he nibbles on your ear.

"I- oh my god, Jungkook I can't" you whimper as you try to control your ragged breathing. He has your body totally at his mercy and you know he's not going to stop until he makes you come for the third time. You don't even know how he pulled one out of you the second time.

"I know you can. Let me see that beautiful pussy clench. Just like that."

His finger go even deeper inside you. He twists his forefinger in such a way, you almost scream before slapping your hand over your mouth but Jungkook takes a hold of your hand, removing it from your mouth.

he warns, "Don't you dare muffle your screams or else I'm gonna spank that perfect ass until it's red and hot"

That does it, your hands rapidly grab the taut silk bedsheet, pulling and undoing it as you arch your back. Sweat beads cover your forehead as you let out a scream before coming harder than ever before.

"FUCK" you pant.

Jungkook takes out his fingers before sucking them off. You look at him with lust in your eyes and sigh. When he's done he holds you close to him as you tuck your face into his neck. Patient as you come down, running his hands over your arms, breasts and ass.

"That's my girl, you did so good" he kisses your forehead.

While you feel like you've ran a marathon, his facial expression holds nothing but pride and affection.

"God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes right now. A fucking sight"

You chuckle, "You're crazy"

Placing a chaste kiss on your cheek he eyes find you again, "How are you feeling, wife?"

Your cheeks instantly turn a deep shade of pink. It's been twenty days since you both have been married, promised to love each other till the day you die. However, you've still not gotten used to him calling you his wife and it appears he loves your flustered face given that he calls you that every chance he gets.

You ignore his snarky chuckle and reply, "Perfect. How are you feeling, husband?

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Jungkook nuzzles his face in your neck and squeals. His golden retriever personality has always been your favorite.

"I love hearing you call me that. Is this how you feel when i call you wife?"

Indeed you do but no way you're gonna tell him that. His ego has gone big enough for the day. You push him down by his shoulders and lower yourself down to his thick length. He's still wearing his black boxers but earlier somewhere in the process he's gotten rid of his shirt.

Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you push them down and let his thick length spring free. Your mouth immediately waters seeing his tip red and angry, begging for attention. A drop of cum has formed on top of it.

"Honey, you don't have to do this" he assures pushing up from his elbows to look at you.

"I want to" you say taking him in your mouth as his grunt follows after.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. You're so good at this, baby. So so good" his head thumps back on the pillow. His stomach muscles are clenching hard resulting his abs to look more defined. You run your hands over them. His breathing picks up when you take him deeper and when you cup his balls, his hands grab a handful of your brown locks.

"_____, baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that" his hips come up pushing his cock to the back of your throat. He thrusts once, twice, thrice. The room is filled with wet noises and both of your moans. You've never heard of anything more beautiful. You've never seen anyone more beautiful than your husband.

"W-Want me to come in your mouth?" he asks as you nod frantically.

And he does. Another moans slips out of him as he grips your hair a bit tighter while also making sure not to hurt you. Your throat gets filled with his load.

"Swallow it, wife"

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Peace. If someone were to ask how your relationship is with Jungkook, you'd use the word peaceful. Love has all sort of forms and in your life where you are surrounded by so many people who love you, their love however, is slightly different yet equally precious.

For instance, there's passionate love then there's motherly love, bubbly love of a friend and nurturing love of a grandparent. When it comes to your husband, it's peaceful and calm. Your introvert personality had let people in the past assume the worst of you. The enormity of the fact that people think introverts are stand offish or impolite is beyond you.

It wasn't the case with Jungkook, though. Since you're both introverts it's never too quiet or too loud for you. A cup of coffee while you're sitting on his lap watching the sunset, taking a hot bath together where you both are not saying a word and letting silence wash over you, you reading your book while he plays his video game.

These moments might seem boring and mundane to a third party but for both of you, who feel like themselves in silence, they're more than just moments.

But that's not to say that there's no spark. That factor has certainly never been a matter of concern. Just like right now as you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, your body has never looked this stunning. You're wearing a red lingerie which hugs your pear shaped body like a dream.

However, you can't seem to stop the fleeting feeling of nervousness creeping up in your stomach, twisting it into knots. This is new for you. Even in your past relationships you have never explored this much. It's only Jungkook's ability to make you comfortable in your body that has led you to this point. So, you take a deep breath and call out for him.

"Babe!!!"

"Yeah?" before you left him to execute your sexy little surprise, he was talking to his best friend, Jimin. It appears he's done talking.

Adjusting the bra strap, you yell again, "Can you close your eyes for me, please?"

"Why?" he's got to be kidding.

"JUST DO IT!!"

"Alright, alright woman"

You walk towards the door and twist the knob oh so slowly. You open the door slightly ajar and see him sitting on the corner of the bed and then only you walk out.

Standing four steps before him you speak, "Okay you can open them"

"That's what she said"

You huff out a laugh but quickly recover.

"Jeon Jungkook"

"Shit, you full named me? This must be serio-" his words come to a halt when his gaze falls on you.

A nervous smile breaks out of your full lips as you wait for him to continue. When he doesn't say anything you start to wonder if you overdid it but he doesn't give you much time to think further because the next thing you know is he's pushing you against the bedroom wall, lips colliding with yours.

You moan as your lips move together with him sucking your bottom one between his. It's sloppy, it's filled with saliva but you wouldn't have it any other way. Tonight, you want the sloppy and wet.

His mouth is soft and eager. One thing about kissing Jungkook is that it's never the same. It's different every fucking time and it only gets better. His tongue pushes in between your lips before you part them and allow it to slide against your own.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, "Jesus Christ,____. You're trying to kill me, baby"

"Do you like it?" you chuckle.

"Like it? You have no idea how many times I've gotten off to this visual. You look like a fucking goddess and you could ask for anything right now, I'd give it to you"

He shakes his head right to left like he still can't comprehend the sight in front of him. So you decide to help him.

"Fuck me"

"What?"

"I need you to fuck me, Jungkook." you ask him in a stern voice.

From the way he looks at you, it seems like he can't wait another second to get his mouth on you. Taking a step back, he looks at you up and down as if taking his fill. The moment the next words leave his mouth, you shiver.

"Strip"

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Jungkook's pov

"Strip"

The red lingerie pushes his wife's tits up as Jungkook is holds onto this slender thread of restraint, scared that if this gets any hotter, it'll snap. Her skin is so smooth and her lips are swollen from the rather burning kiss they shared earlier. The bulge in his sweatpants must be visible but he's not embarrassed about it.

A man can only handle so much. He looks at ______ with a fire and yearning that runs so deep he feels like it'll consume him whole. He wonders what made tonight worth it? is it the lingerie? is it the fact that they're newly married? is it the honeymoon?

No, It's because of the woman standing before him. It's because of the fact that he is the luckiest man alive on the planet to not only have a woman so sexy as his wife but also someone who is an outstanding daughter, a responsible sister and a human worth living for.

People talk about dying for their loved ones but what about living for them? What about living with them? When he was standing at the alter with ______ standing in front of him just like now he had made a promise to himself that he will live for her everyday. He will make every single day worth it for her so that she will choose him again as her husband in her next life.

The red fabric of cloth falls down with a subtle thump on the ground and his eyes travel all over _____ body. Her slender legs, a dark mole just above her left knee, stretch marks looking like lightening travelling from her navel down to her knees, the curve of her waist he has always loved to hold and kiss, her tits with perky nipples begging for attention and then finally her face.

"Come here and lie down on the bed" she does as he says.

When she gets comfortable enough and looks at him he asks her to spread her legs.

"Show me that pretty pussy, sweetheart" she spreads her legs slowly as if teasing him. He sucks in a deep breath before slipping out of his sweatpants and letting his cock spring free. It slaps against his stomach and he gives it a pump.

"I'm going to fuck you real nice but before that I want to watch. Don't worry though, I'll let you watch too" his voice is as husky as ever.

He walks back to the chair in the corner of the room and sits himself down. His wife looks at him with so much innocence and wonder, for a second he considers changing his mind and snuggle her to sleep but then again, she asked for it so she'll get it.

"Slip one finger inside, baby. Make sure to do it slowly, I want you to feel it well. Soak in the feeling"

"Jungkook, I'm not sure-"

"Hey, I'm right here, my love. I'm in this with you but reconsider it and if you're still not sure, we'll stop" he gently assures her, respecting her boundaries.

______ thinks for a while before taking a deep breath and nodding. Her hand slowly travels down to her stomach and finally to her wet cunt.

"Perfect, now rub your clit slowly and then slide a finger inside" she follows his commands as she lets out a light moan, her head tipping back in pleasure. It's just the beginning.

Jungkook's hands work up and down his length as he seeks his own pleasure but he's not sure how long he can last with the look on his wife's face. It's the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. She's his strength but fuck if she doesn't make him weak in the knees. Both of their moans fill the room with several "fuck" and "oh my god" following right after.

As _____ slides her finger inside and pumps it, he also fastens the pace of his pumping.

"Two more in, baby. Give it everything I know you're close" he manages to speak in a low voice.

"Jungkook, it's too much ahhh" she whines as she arches her back off the bed and he can see her pussy going moist and swollen indicating she's almost there. His hands pump as fast working his veiny cock between his tattooed hands and as soon as his wife lets out another loud moan, his orgasm follows making him throw his head back as he comes down from the high.

When he finally gets a hold of himself, he catches a look at her. She's breathing rapidly and caressing her stomach. Walking up to her he kneels down facing her sex and puts his mouth on it, sucking loudly.

"JUNGKOOK-"

Jungkook's eyes look up to her as he slides his tongue up and then down her pussy cleaning her off as she grabs his hair in response and yanks him up. He obliges and hovers over her before taking the same fingers that were inside her as he pushes them against her lips. She opens those kissable lips and tastes herself.

"Do you understand how divine you taste now?"

_____ hums as her lips release the finger with a loud pop. His eyes trace her face lovingly. _____ has exactly ten moles on her face and his favorite is the one on her upper lip. It's meant to be kissed just like the other ones.

"You're staring"

"I like looking at you. You're the loveliest person ever, do you know that? How did I even get so lucky?"

_____ grins and it's the only thing he ever wants to see on her face.

"Tell me how you want my cock wife and I'll give it to you" His eyes are glue to her face. He could look at her all day and not get bored.

"I- I want it from behind if that's okay" there is a hint of hesitation in her voice and he doesn't like it. But that's okay because he plans on making her as comfortable as possible tonight.

When he turns her on her stomach and guides her ass upwards, her face down on the mattress, she gasps but doesn't object.

"Are you okay with me spanking this ass, honey? Want me to tell you how bad I want you?" she whimpers.

"Yes, please"

"That's a good fucking girl" his doesn't wait a second longer before giving a slap on the globe of her ass, only to slap it once more while also making sure not to hurt her in the process. His palms paint her pale skin.

He works her clit pulling a loud moan out of her. _____ breath is picking up the pace again as sweat beads her back glistening it in the best way possible. He notches the head of his cock at her entrance and pushes inside with a force that takes both of their breaths away.

"Fuck" he cries out and she whines.

He pulls himself outside before thrusting back inside, "Fuck, I love you, _____. You're the best thing that happened to me. Every morning- ugh- every morning I get excited just because of the fact that I get to see this pretty face. You beautiful, strong, gentle of a woman and you're all mine"

His thrusts fasten, he gives three kisses on the dimples of her back as he fucks her from behind just like she asked.

"I love you, baby" he hears her reply back, her voice breathy.

"You like that?"

thrust

"You like how I'm giving it all to you, huh?"

thrust

"You like being at my mercy? Desperate and needy?"

thrust

"Want me to give you a baby,hmm? Make you look all mine?" His final thrust goes even deeper before he turns her on her back. He pulls out and freezes. The woman he's married to is looking like a fucking angel who also has been fucked raw and good. He couldn't be more in love with her.

"Sweetheart, I wanna try something but I need to you to trust me, alright? I'll never hurt you" when he gets a nod from _____ he uses his knees to move up to her until he just above her stomach.

"Push those tits together for me" he commands.

So, she does. ______ doesn't hesitate this time and his chest grows another inch with pride. Her tits squeeze up with the help of her palms and Jungkook carefully slips his cock into the tight channel. Her chest is decorated with the hickeys he's given her this morning.

It takes five thrusts for him to come on her chest. White, hot liquid covers his wife's chest as he quickly pushes himself sideways and lies down beside her with a loud thump.

"Christ, that was so good" he pants.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before running to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel. He swipes it all over her chest as he cleans her off. She's still looking at him with the same love and passion in her eyes as before. Nothing has changed and nothing will change.

As soon as he's done cleaning up and gets ready to talk his wife's ears off, her soft snores pull at his attention. Giggling to himself as he covers her with the duvet pulling it taut so she can be warm and cozy, he gets comfortable beside her and prepares to go into a deep slumber.

A hand wraps around his stomach making his silly, romantic heart flutter and _____ places her head on his chest.

Placing a chaste kiss on her temple and nose, he whispers into the darkness, "Goodnight, honey. Thank you for being mine"

[gojoshooter]

HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU

tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies

Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.

Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.

Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.

Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.

“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.

Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”

At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.

“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”

Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”

Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”

Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”

Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.

As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”

Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.

Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.

“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”

Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.

Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.

“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.

an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33

tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts

[bi-writes]

a hand for a hand | knight!ghost x f!reader

in the year of our lord 1657, your king wields a weapon that cannot be reproduced. as your queen's lady-in-waiting, you steer clear of it, lest it cut you when it passes by. but duty and desire are rarely met in a man's world.

type: one-shot (6.5k)

cw: dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, mentions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, ghost is obsessed with your tits (18+)

It is not a secret that you are afraid of the king's men. There is a reason that they have a reputation of cruelty. Ravagers, conquerors, unruly and untamed–they train like dogs, and they live like them, too. By accident, you have wandered to where their barracks are, and if it wasn't for the happenstance of your king hearing your screams, they would've taken your virtue that night.

That one belongs to my wife, he had said, gripping you by the scruff of your neck. Spoil it, and I'll have your fuckin' heads. His queen had been much kinder when he returned you back inside, cradling your head in her lap and promising to have something fashioned for you to wear so none of his men would ever touch you again.

And they haven't. They do not bow to you, but they open the doors for you, move out of your way, try to keep their eyes off of the softness of your cleavage and the curve of your skirt. But there is one that does not, there is one that refuses, and this one you avoid the most.

You don't know him by any other name other than Ghost. The right hand of the king, his most trusted advisor and his most brutal of men. There are times when he barges into the throne room, his sword dragging along the stone floor and trailing blood in its path, and he tosses the head of the king's enemy onto the floor. You clutch onto the skirt of your queen's dress, tears welling up in your eyes, and when you look up, he is staring at you, heaving in the metal of his armor, and you look away as his men yell out proudly as they crowd the room.

His eyes are always on you when you are in his presence. They track you as you move behind your queen, follow you as you eat and drink and tend to her majesty's needs. He wanders the halls, and he observes you as if you are his next meal. And maybe you are–if he suddenly decided you would be his next conquest, you don't think a refusal is in order. Maybe that's the mercy he gives you; just the aggressiveness of his stare and his stare only, and not the strength of his hand or the cruelness of his demeanor.

There is always a party. Always a celebration for this brute. He is praised by politicians and priests alike, because he must be the hand of god, delivering whatever the king asks for when it is asked of him. He does not lose, all he comes back with is chests full of gold and new slashes to add to the growing collection on his skin. Sometimes you wonder if he puts them on himself. You wonder if he drags his dagger in a crooked line down the length of his arm, as if he is tallying his win, counting up to a number that already puts the men that came before him to shame.

He seems like the kind of man to do so–like the kind of man to do it even with the blood of his adversary still warm on the sharp edge of the blade, the kind to lick it clean when he's finished just to solidify the unease and the terror of the next man to have the unfortunate fate of ending up at the wrong end of his adrenaline.

He has no face. He has no name. And if he is coming for you, it's already too late; your fate has been sealed, and you should say your last rites. The only mercy he ever gives is that death is always quick. His sword is too sharp, and his hand is too heavy.

It is late in the evening when you hear it. There's screaming in the courtyard, yells and howls and cheers. You put down your hairbrush, getting up and padding to the window to look outside. The king's men are there, hundreds of them milling about and walking around. They share mead and wine, crusty bread in their muddy hands. They are bloody and bruised, but they are happy. They sing and chant, hold each other and crowd around fires. They left weeks ago, and they are back now, and you suspect it must be victory on account of their demeanor.

You are not surprised by this. They aren't kind, but it makes them good soldiers. They aren't afraid to die; it's a common idea in your culture that for a man to die in battle is the only way to true salvation, to actual ascension. You have always hated this idea. Boys become cruel, and men become unforgiving, and it is why you are so grateful to be her majesty's lady-in-waiting because it means she is your only duty and nothing more.

You are surprised by the knock on your door. You think about ignoring it, but then there is another knock, and then a familiar, low voice mutters, "Are you awake, my lady?"

You tie your robe and scurry. When you open up the door, you curtsy low and graceful, your eyes drawn to the floor as you tremble a little in the king's presence. You've never really spoken to him before, not without his queen at your side.

"Y-Yes, your majesty? I'm sorry for my appearance, I–"

"It's quite late," he says gently. "You don't have to apologize. Is it alright if I come in?"

You stand from your curtsy, blinking up at him. You think for a few moments before you nod, widening the door. He settles himself at the seat by the window, looking down into the courtyard. He has a hint of a smirk on his face as he looks down at his men, still singing.

"I have a request of you," he says finally. You take a seat at the edge of your bed, wringing your hands nervously in your lap. Whatever his request is, you don't know why he's putting it this way. You're not exactly allowed to refuse. "It is time for my most decorated men to receive their titles. They deserve it, after what they have done for me these past few years."

You swallow, "Yes, of course. You have such a fine army, your majesty. You must be...V-very proud."

He turns to face you, and he nods.

"These titles come with land. Money. Responsibility. And it comes with other things they might request," he explains. "One of these things can be a bride."

"They are most fortunate," you say softly, trying to smile. He stands, turning back to look down into the courtyard.

"You are to be wed tomorrow," he tells you. "I know you gave up much to accept your role at my wife's side, and for that, I have arranged for a sizable dowry on your behalf. Congratulations, my lady." he turns to smile at you. "By sunset, you are to be a duchess."

You're shaking when he goes. You clutch the sheets, sinking to your knees, and you cry. You cry because you know who asked for your hand. You know who wants you, you know who it is, because every time he comes back from war, he cannot take his eyes off of you. He eats you with his gaze, he violates you and has never even touched you, he takes from you, and you've never spoken to him, but you know it's him, you know it, you know it–

Your queen is ecstatic. She lends you diamonds to wear, and she fusses over the embroidered silk and cotton dress they've sewn for you overnight. She tells you she's so proud, that you will make such a beautiful bride and a beautiful duchess, and it takes all of your strength not to cry, to choke back your sobs. Your innocence will be gone by the next morning, you know this, and yet here she beams about colored fabric and your new, unwanted title and all of the duties you have never, ever wanted for yourself.

Marriage will be your prison, and you will never be free. You'll be hidden behind closed doors and forced to carry loud, chubby babies.

You are not the only bride that afternoon, but you feel like the most important. Your veil is the longest, your dress is the most intricate, and you are wearing the queen's diamonds. Not to mention, you are to become a duchess, and the rest will be lords and ladies, nothing more. You have always hated the hierarchy that society fits themselves into, but you've never despised it more than this moment.

He is waiting for you when you make it to the throne room. He wears his armor, polished and without blood, his face covered and his hood up to shadow his dark eyes. He wears his telltale insignia with pride, the skull motif of his belt gleaming and the paint of his mask fresh. He stands tall and menacing, a reaper in human skin, and you are so close to tears as you make your way to him. Your eyes find his, and he holds out his hand for you to take. You slip a delicate hand into his gloved one, letting the rough fabric warm you as he brings you to stand in front of him. He purrs, you think, a low rumble as his eyes look you up and down.

You are a prize. A trophy. Nothing more. A gift given for cutting the heads off of your king's foes, and that is all.

The ring on your finger is gold, and the ring you slip over his is silver. And then he gives you his first gift as your husband–a tiara, made of emerald and gold, and he slips your veil off to tuck it between the strands of your hair. The intricate pattern on the tiara matches the patterns along the iron of his armor, and you want to think of this as a gesture of good will, but you know it is given with possessive intent, a brand of ownership.

Because that is what this is. Not a ceremony of love, but an exchange, a transaction. You've been bought with blood, and there is nothing you can do about it.

But one day he will grow bored of me, and maybe then, I'll feel myself again.

He narrows his eyes, glares, and your lips part, trembling, you are terrified. His response is to growl with delight, his eyes falling to stare at the laces that hold in your cleavage. You observe this fact–the fact that you have things that other ladies do not. You are not tiny like them, not thin nor delicate. You are warm, soft, and the squeeze of your breasts in your dress draw him in.

You are a prisoner, now. But perhaps, if you play this game correctly, you can be in your ward's good graces. This is the hand you've been dealt; perhaps there is still a way to win if you steel your bluff.

The party is lively. There is music, gold coins tossed haphazardly on tables, so much dancing and enough food to stuff yourself for days. There is endless wine, and there are brides seated in laps, hungry new couples kissing and whispering soft nothings into each other's ears. The king blessed you all, told you to enjoy your new lives, your new titles, to make your country proud and raise pretty, fat babies.

You sit aways from him. You don't speak, just stare at your dinner plate, sipping wine absentmindedly as you think about the rest of your life and how miserable you will be. You think about the control you have never had, the choices you have never been given, and you wish so badly that you were a man.

Men simply ask for, and then they receive. Women simply hope that their eyes don't meet a flame too hot to handle.

His eyes bore into your head. When you catch his gaze every once in a while, all he does is tilt his head to the side and observe you. The beauty that you are, the woman that no one can have, the supple tits that belong to him, and the perfect cunt he knows that you have under the multitude of skirts you hide it under. Your skin glows, your hair is healthy, you will give him everything that he needs, that he craves.

You'll look so beautiful carrying his heir. You'll look so perfect when you begin to wear the dresses he will buy you, when you sleep in the bed in the house that he gives you, when you stand in the kitchen that he builds for you. Although, a woman like you deserves to do nothing but relax, be pampered, to lay down on a bed of furs as he eats your sweetness and fucks you stupid.

When the morning is early, you sneak out. You scurry to your bedroom, closing the door behind you for a moment of peace. You take a seat on your bed, the bed you aren't sure you will have for much longer, and you sit there and stare at your feet until the door opens.

You know who it is right away. Coming in unannounced, because now he is allowed to, because everything in this room now belongs to him, from the thread holding your dress together to the very breaths you take.

You sit up straight, turning your head. Ghost slips through, taking up the space by the door as it shuts behind him. You watch him as he stands poised just like the soldier he is, looking at you illuminated by nothing but candlelight. His gloved hands rest at his sides, but he squeezes them in and out of fists, clicking his tongue. You hear the leather of them move.

You have never spoken to him before. You've never heard him speak. You wonder if he really knows how to; you wonder if he has a voice or if he's been whittled down to nothing but the sounds that a loyal mutt makes. You know why he's here, you know why he's come. You can't tell him no, you don't think, but he doesn't move from his place, so you aren't completely sure of what he wants.

But you have an idea.

"Y'abhor me," he says finally. He speaks. You swallow. At least he isn't stupid. It's rare that you see a brute with brains. Although, with all the battles he has won, you know he doesn't lack intelligence. He is seasoned, worldly, knows how to convince the politicians and to rile up the uneducated men that kill for him. He must have a quick tongue and a strong vocabulary. A leader bred for killing, a man taught to know his audience and how to deliver a persuasive message.

But has he been taught to tame a cat? How to please a woman? How to love her, how to have her?

Love. What a silly dream.

"Not as much as I fear you," you admit. He hums, his eyes crinkling a little, as if he's smiling. You watch him carefully as he finally moves, rounding the bed before he stands in front of you.

"Wot is it y'r afraid of?" he asks. His voice comes low, from the bottom of his chest. You tilt your head up to look at him.

"That you'll hurt me," you whisper. He shrugs, shaking his head.

"A beaten wife is no good t'me," he tells you, very matter-of-fact. "Need strong heirs. Which means I need y'fed and happy."

"I'll never be happy."

He grips your chin, shutting you up. A part of you wishes he would be meaner. That he would be the angry, possessive Ghost that he truly is and show the kingdom that there is no part of him redeemable or salvageable. You want to sport his bruises and tell the queen he is an animal, but his touch is firm and nothing more. If anything, he's gentler than you expected him to be.

"We'll see about tha'."

Your eyes water, and you stiffen at his touch.

"I know who you are," your voice cracks. "I know what you do. You're a pillager. You take women, and you kill men."

He tilts his head to the side, smoothing his thumb along your bottom lip. You aren't wrong. Since he was small, most of what he has known has been the smell of blood in the air and the sound of screams when he shows up at their doors. He's never been particularly gentle when he ravages. He takes, takes, takes–it tastes good and strengthens his bones. It puts medals on his chest and pretty, thick women in his bed.

But you are no village in an unfortunate land. You are the gift that his king has given him. The forbidden treasure that he had his eye on since he saw you standing there beside his queen. Poised, elegant, graceful, timid, untouched, perfectly soft. Ghost has never known this kind of thing, and if you had been any other lady, he would have married you long ago, but he had to wait. He had to be patient, win and kill enough that his king could not refuse his request–no, his demand–to have you.

He did not do the king's bidding for the glory or for the honor. He did it so he could bite into you, so that even if you screamed, you belonged, and no one would care.

"Just a matter of war, dear wife. They matter little," Ghost mutters. "Let me look at ya..." he tilts your head side to side, observing you. He guides his hand down your throat, arching you back so he could trace his fingers along the swell of your breasts. He hums with approval, reaching lower and squeezing the fat of one breast with one big hand. His eyes flash, and he fondles the other.

You are surprised by the sensation. No one has ever touched you this way before. It feels...good. His hands are warm, even under all of that leather, and you find yourself feeling rather sensitive. You lean back a little on the palms of your hands, looking down. You watch as he traces a finger around your nipple, and you bite your lip when it pebbles under his touch. He uses both hands now, cupping both of them, growling. Ohhh–it feels so nice.

"Gonna be so nice when they're full," he murmurs, mostly to himself. "All for our babe."

You don't know what comes over you. You don't know why you do it, but you do. You lift your hand, gripping the edge of the laces that tie the front of your dress closed, and you pull. The weight of your breasts unravel the ribbons, and Ghost groans audibly when they spill out of your corset. There is a tickle that you feel, some sort of sick satisfaction, knowing that you've pleased him in some way.

"Tha'sit...My beautiful bride..." he smacks his lips together under his mask, as if he's hungry, "Tits of a fuckin' angel."

You squeeze your legs together. You know what it is to feel aroused, but this is different. You feel wet, so wet, as if it's wetting the skirt of your dress. You've never felt it this strong. You whimper a little, and he chuckles, so mean.

"Y'like tha', my bride?" he asks. He reaches up and cups your cheek, bringing your soft eyes to his. The praise, it itches you nicely. "Y'r m'prize, swee'eart. I killed over a thousand men, and y'are what m'reward is, did y'know tha'?" he hisses. "Cut the heart out of a man's chest, like a fuckin' pig, just to 'ave this cunt."

Why does it feel so good? Why are you getting wetter and wetter, why are you whining, why are you giving into it? Why do you want it so bad, why do you ache?

It hurts, it hurts–

"'s olright," he coos, so condescending. "Shhhh..." he puts a palm on your chest and pushes, making you lay back. You swallow, letting him put a finger between the laces of your corset and tug. It barely budges, fastened so carefully, and you gasp sharply when he uses two big hands and grunts, ripping your corset apart. You hear the crack of the whale bone give away under the strength of him, and it's a reminder of just how dangerous he is, how strong, and you know when he looks between your thighs, he'll find you wet and needy and captivated.

The corset comes loose, and he tugs, taking your skirts with it until you're naked underneath him. You want to feel shame, but you can't. You're so desperate, for whatever he will give you, and instead of covering yourself, you let your knees fall open. The groan he lets out makes you leak even more, and he watches with awe as your puffy hole pulses. He moves to shove his trousers down, but you stop him, putting a hand on the chest of his leather armor.

"Wait–" you meet his eyes. Your eyes flutter. "B-but...But I want..."

He eyes you curiously, narrowing them.

"Want wot?"

You swallow.

"I-I..." you reach down and slip your fingers gently through your folds. The squelch makes his eyes widen, and he's mesmerized by what he sees. "I want...Your mouth..."

He snickers, "Y'think a man will eat it so easy?" he raises a brow. "Doesn't work tha' way. Besides..." he shrugs. "I don't reveal m'face."

You sit up, blinking, smoothing your hands down his chest and tracing them along the hem of his trousers. His dark eyes follow you, and you realize he doesn't really say no. You need to remind him that you are not one of his men. You need to be kept happy, and he needs to give in, even if it hurts his fucking ego.

"Please?" you whisper, taking his hand and putting it back on your face, kissing the palm of his glove. Killed a thousand men to have me, so show me–show me, show me, show me. You nuzzle into it, giving him those eyes, and he stares for a long few moments. "Please..."

He sinks to his knees almost immediately. His armor stretches a little, the leather and metal moving rigidly with him. Your eyes widen a little at the position–the thing that he is knelt down in front of his wife, an act of submission.

"Turn around," he snaps. "On y'r knees."

You do as he says. You turn on the bed, your face squished against the cushions, and he yanks you back by your hips. You fist the sheets, sucking in a shaky breath, and your eyes squeeze shut when he puts two hands on your ass and spreads you wide. He plants a kiss on your folds from over the mask, and then you hear the shuffle of fabric before his warm tongue prods at your entrance.

He eats slow at first. Just drags his tongue through the slick there. He's exploring you, learning you. But then he is all-consuming. He hisses, gripping you by the thighs and suckling at your clit before tracing his name into the folds of your cunt. You can't help how wet you are–drooling, wetting his mask, crying so soft as he bobs his head and eats you, starving. He did not expect you to be so sweet, so soft. Every part of you is soft, and he associates the taste of you with the sound of your pleasure, and it's like a trigger. His brain ticks just the right way when he hears you moan for the first time. Not even battle quiets the tinnitus, but the ringing is nearly gone now.

He wonders if you're sent from heaven, even though he doesn't believe in it. But something had to have sent you, something had to have given you to him, because it's too much, it's too good, it's too real.

What he wants is in his hands, cumming on his tongue, crying because of his touch. Too real, too real, too real.

He pulls away. He smacks his lips gently, smirking, and then he pulls his mask back down. He stands up straight, watching you, still on your knees, squirming. He tuts, turning you onto your back easily. You're languid and a little breathless, and you giggle a little when you realize how easy it is for him to manhandle you, for him to move you. You've never felt very small, but he doesn't even strain, not even a little.

He's so scary, it makes you sick, but you can make this your own–you could make him love you, couldn't you? Someone this twisted, someone this insane, you could make him obsessed, you could drive him crazy, you could have the loyal dog you have always been yourself.

Killed a thousand men to have me, so I'll put you on your fucking knees.

It's what you're owed. For all the years of serving, for all the years of submission and pain and kneeling and curtsying, you're allowed to have something, you can have something, even if it's this monster of a man. He may have paid for you, but you won't let a thousand men die for nothing.

You will make him love you. You will make him love you. You will make him love you.

You sit up, a bit dazed. You're swimming in your own head, a little insane from the orgasm. You know what a man like him wants. You have doted on men like him all your life. You know what it is that arrogant people crave, what it is they desire, the things that keep them up at night, you know because you've soothed those fears all your life.

You just need to know how to make him purr. You need to know what clears the thoughts in his head.

"My husband," you whisper, meeting his eyes, and there's a little twitch in his eyes. He likes that title. "I–"

"Did y'like that, my bride?" he murmurs. "Your husband's mouth on y'r cunt, 'n now y'r singin' for me, eh?"

You bat your lashes, sliding your hands up his forearms. You drag your fingers over the sleeves of his armor, whimpering. The smell of leather is overwhelming, but you suppose you must get used to it. You have a feeling you'll be polishing it for the rest of your life.

"I've always been...Terrified of you," you whisper. "The way you come into court...The way you fight...Seeing you in all those places, you have always scared me..." he hums, his eyes intrigued. He smooths his hands up your thighs, gripping onto your waist as he tugs you closer to him. "But, I..." you reach for his shoulders, pulling on him until he bends, leans over you, crowds your space and shadows you like the eclipse he truly is. "I-I want more..."

He chuckles, "I know y'do," he echos. "Could see it in y'r eyes, darling girl," he sighs. "A pretty face like this one...Wasted on her majesty."

"I don't think we're allowed to say that."

"I deliver entire countries at john's feet, I'll say wot I bloody please," he snaps. You just blink up at him, before smiling a little.

This disgusting, murderous, possessive, immoral, treacherous piece of shit that is your husband is really the most beautiful man you've ever set your eyes on. Strong, resilient, unable to be killed, adored by his king and his men alike. He is everything a man is supposed to be, but nothing like how a gentleman should behave. He is built for war, built to take, so how can you get this nasty thing to love you?

Ghost does not seem the kind of man to bend to the desires of ordinary men. He may want to fuck you, but he has self-control. He may enjoy the praise of his men, but he doesn't require it. He may ache for the soft press of a woman, but he is self-sufficient and easily deterred.

So you do what servant women do best. You appease, because at the end of the day, Ghost is still a man, and men are all the same.

"A baby..." you whisper, holding onto the backs of his hands firmly. You dig your nails into the skin there, arching your back to get closer to him. He growls under the mask, metal biting into your soft skin as he grips you even tighter. "Want a baby..."

He cackles, so mean, and he leans down to kiss along your ear, down your throat, biting at the supple skin through the mask. He's still got all of his armor on, he hasn't shed one lick of his gear, but you cling to it like a parasite. He is one with it, and you realize this now, his second skin made of durable steel and patent animal skin, singed at the edges. He's such a fine soldier, too strong for his own good, too rough around all his edges to be anything but a masochist, but he's yours. He belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and it isn't until he slides the warmth of his length through your folds that you realize this, too.

You reach up with trembling hands, high enough to cup his masked face. He flinches, nearly throwing you off, but you shush him gently, cooing softly as you nuzzle your nose against his.

"I'm sorry," you whisper there. It's so intimate, this position, and you know that he has never let anyone touch him this way by the feeling of his body under your hands, stiff and unable to move. You roll your hips gently, up against his, and you let out a soft keen at the squelch of your slick against his cock. "It's...It's everything I didn't know I wanted..."

He grunts, metal creaking as his nostrils flare.

"I don't understand," he murmurs. Affection, it's so unfamiliar that it startles him. That someone can be kind to him, something other than a hard hand and an impossible order, it's not something he knows, and he's not sure how he feels about it. His instinct tells him to distance himself, but his cock guides him closer.

"You," you whine. "So big–" you reach down between your bodies, pumping his cock gently. Your fingers barely meet around his girth, a true testament to his size, he lacks this largeness nowhere. "–there's nothing to be afraid of, is there?"

Ghost snarls a little, gripping your thighs tight and securing them around his waist. You lock your ankles around his hips, pulling, and he hums as the head of his cock sinks into you easily.

"Naughty lil' girl," he laughs, standing straight as his thighs meet your ass. You whine, your back bowing like a taut string, and he slides his tongue over his teeth with a menacing click. "Not a virgin, are ya?"

"I-I am," you gasp, clawing at his forearms, and he hisses when you clench.

"Mm. Not a stranger t'this feelin' then, aye?"

You shake your head, and he nods, hoisting your legs up and over his shoulders as he gives you a firm thrust.

"Good," he mutters. "Don't much feel like pettin' ya."

And he doesn't. He's a menace. He snarls like a beast under his armor, his gloves squeezing your plush thighs as he pounds into you with no words to soften the blow. He isn't gentle by any means–he gives, and he expects you to take, and your legs shake as you try and crawl away from him. He doesn't let you–his fingers spread around your waist and he tugs, spearing you back onto his cock before he leans over you and starts putting his back into it.

Despite the roughness, he looks down at you, eyes focused on yours, and he doesn't look away. Your arms flail a little until you reach up and wrap them around his neck for stability, but it only draws his face close to yours. Your hand falls to grip his jaw, and he leans into it just enough that you know you have him.

"You'll make such a good little babe," he grunts, groaning when you tighten just that much. He's securing his place, making room inside of you so you can take even more. "Cunt was made to bear m'children, m'lady..."

"That so?" you squeak, and he smiles under the mask–you're falling apart on his cock, a good girl, just for him, just like you always are. "Have to finish what you started for that to happen, don't you?"

"Fuckin' brat–" Ghost snaps, but he presses his face to yours, needing to be closer, needing to have you, needing to make you his from the inside-out. A ring is not enough, no, he has to bind you to him forever by making you bear his kin. He will give you many, he's going to keep you fat and beautiful and pregnant, and his children will know that their father hungered for their mother so much that he destroyed a generation of men to covet one of his own.

Ghost has known since the first moment he laid his eyes on you that you would be it. You had to be his wife, no one else would suffice, because no one else could bear the weight of his name the way you would be able to. No one else would be able to carry his babies without dying, no one else could make the sun fall and the moon rise and the fire wane just long enough for him to feel human again, no one.

You start to think the same. You've never felt this way, so out of your body and so aware of it all at once. You're floating–you're somewhere else, you think. There's a pleasure so searing, that you can barely breathe. His cock is deep, touching places inside of you your fingers could never dream to reach, and there's a place that he touches sometimes that makes your eyes blur and your mouth make the most pathetic whining sound. You're crying, begging, asking him for more, please–! Nnghh–please!

He's never had a woman so wet. He has always had them for his own pleasure. He has never paid attention to what they feel or tried to make it nice for anyone but himself, but he knows he will never want it the same ever again. There's something so satisfying about the heavy plat, plat, plat that his cock makes every time his hips meet yours. He can feel his trousers sticking to his thick thighs, knows that there must be some thick, creamy slick coating his length and sticking to your skin that he suddenly wants to scoop up with his tongue and savor the tang of his bride, his wife, his pretty, pretty girl–tha's it, just right, like tha'–

"I...I-I–!" it's more intense than you've ever felt it. A crescendo of pleasure that is starting to grow in your belly, an unwavering warmth that he keeps flooding you with, so good that you can't stop crying for it. You're sputtering, drooling, clawing at the hood around his back because it's so fucking close, it's right there, it's mine, you're mine, mine, mine–

"Fuckin' hell–" Ghost groans, cradling your head against his chest as he stills his hips against yours and fills you nice and warm. You go cross-eyed, you think, shaking as you latch your mouth onto his masked jaw and suck. You need to put your mouth around something, need to fill it with the taste of him. He doesn't move, body heavy and suffocating over you, but you don't tell him to move and make no effort to push him off.

You think you want this. You think you want him to keep you here, just like this, underneath him, full of him, drooling from more than just your mouth from a fucking too good and the promise of something more.

He moves to take a seat on the bed, and you chase after him. You keep your arms around his neck, shuffle into his lap, and he chuckles under his breath as he wraps one big arm around you and tugs you close to him.

Maybe it isn't so bad to be bound to someone like this. Maybe it isn't so bad to belong, maybe it isn't so bad to be wanted this way, maybe it isn't the most unfortunate thing to not have the autonomy of yourself anymore in favor of being this thing's wife.

You slide your hand down his chest before smoothing it over one masked cheek. His eyes close for a moment, and he leans into it for just long enough that you recognize the gesture as one of need. Ghost aches, too–maybe not for the same thing you ache for, but he aches, and maybe it's for this.

Something gentle. Something soft. Something to bury himself into because the flames have burnt too hot for too long, and the voices in his head give him no reprieve. His hands are too dirty, too unclean, and you think maybe that's why he doesn't take his gloves off anymore–there is no cleaning agent enough for the blood caked under his fingernails.

He's more human this way. Less beast, more man, but you see that flicker of humanity disappear entirely when he sees the trickle of his cum slipping onto the fine sheets of your bed.

What a waste. What a loss. He has to fuck you again.

He will never be bored of me, I don't think. Ghost will want me forever–even when we are dead, because he cannot die, because he's already rotting inside.

You don't seem to mind your new position. No kneeling, no curtsying–your duty is on your back and on your side and on your stomach, presented for your husband, just for his pleasure, just for your own.

In all your life, you have never wanted this. You endured the burden of serving because you were at least needed this way. Marriage to you looked akin to death; when the veils fell over girl's faces, you never saw them again. They would be confined to their houses, made to spread their legs, forced to carry children they didn't want and die the slow death of giving their husbands everything they wanted while their dreams were buried alongside them.

Your dream is freedom. It always has been. Your dream is to do as you please, to go where you want to go, to say the things you want to say. There is an understanding here that you have, an opportunity that you could not see before. Before you had Ghost, you saw him as the thing in your way. He was the quicksand that would pull you under, the tide that sunk the earth, the dog that guarded his bone. But you know now, you understand, that Ghost doesn't have to be the wall in your way.

He is more animal than man, and in that fact alone, you feel power in your toes and something hungry knocking at the bone of your ribs, just waiting to come out.

Ghost will hold the sword. And you will hold the leash.

NEXT

[snowsinterlude]

need someone older.

(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)

summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.

c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal

being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.

thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.

when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.

you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.

"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.

"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.

"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.

his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.

and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.

"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.

"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"

"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.

"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.

"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.

"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.

"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.

"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.

"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.

"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."

"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.

"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.

you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"

he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.

"keep it." he said once you took the ring

"but- s-sir, i-"

"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.

he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.

"i hope you know what that means."

"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.

"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."

[pseudowho]

Kento was often quiet, but, swirling his whiskey over dinner, his silence hung heavy with words unspoken. You looked up at him, reading, shrewd.

"...what's up?"

"Hm? Ah, nothing."

"Uh-uh. Out with it, Kento."

Kento put his fork down, his brows furrowing. He plaited his fingers in front of his chin, resting on them.

"Would you...be upset if I had a work wife?"

You chewed, hmmm-ing aloud.

"Well, that depends. Do you think she actually has romantic feelings for you?"

"...no."

"If you talk about me, is she ever disrespectful? Like she wants to replace me?"

"Not at all."

"Do you like her?"

"...yes. She's a good woman."

"Oh, okay. Does she give you secret blowjobs in the storecupboards?"

Kento was aghast, mute with outrage, one hand pressing to his chest, pearl-clutching. You laughed into your pasta.

"Calm down, precious. That's a no then." You put your fork down, taking his hand from his chest, and swirling your fingertips on his palm.

"Then, I'm fine with it. I trust you to put a stop to things if they become suggestive. I know you're obsessed with me, and I know she hasn't got a chance even if she tried anything. Okay?"

Kento still pondered, his skin prickling, his food untouched, and you continued.

"Most importantly, are you upset with it?"

"Yes." He burst out, stabbing his pasta. "It's...disrespectful. Unprofessional. I have one wife, and that's the way I want it to be."

"Then, there's your answer. So stop worrying, eat your dinner, and tell her in the morning."

You continued eating. You felt Kento's eyes on you, calloused warm fingertips stroking your inner wrist, trailing suggestively up your forearm, and your smile grew as you chewed.

"...stop staring at me, Kento."

"No. You're lovely."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Around mid-morning the next day, you received a text...and another, and another...and anotheranotheranother, your phone blowing up in your pocket.

"Jesus--alright--give me a minute." You said aloud to nobody in particular, putting your tea down.

You opened your phone to a slew of messages from Gojo, and read them with a growing smile.

Shoko is so upset

Nanamin doesn't want to be her work husband

This is fine for me because I need a work wife and she kept saying no to me

So tyvm

She's my wife now

As you laughed, reaching for your tea again, your phone began to ring; Kento. You answered.

"Hey, lov--"

"Is Gojo texting you?"

Your phone buzzed again, blowing up against your ear, and you snorted with laughter.

"Kento, save her. Save Shoko. You have a duty. Be a good work husband."

"--but I don't want another wife--"

"--and you'd sentence her to Gojo? Kento. She's my best friend."

Silence. A huff. Kento hung up as you laughed. Tapping your phone against your thigh, and biting your lip, you tapped out a message to Shoko.

He's all yours. Make sure he takes a lunch break. He likes the pastries in the cafeteria on Tuesdays but never manages to get one, help him out. If he's grumpy he's probably just hungry. Force him home on time. Good luck.

[pearlymel]

A duty— Capitano

Synopsis: You were set to marry a fatui... Wait, is that a fucking harbinger?!

Wc: 3.3k

Warning(s): fem reader for this one, reader gets called "wife", Capitano is described to have dark blue eyes (i swear i did my research and they said yes to dark blue eyes), MDNI masturbation but no sex between them.

Notes: don't ask the reason why you are in an arranged marriage, my brain is fried. You can come up with your own reasons ! Wrote this with my eyes cursing at me to sleep so half not proofread. Part 2 is out here. Part 3 is out here!

Tick tock.

You watched as the clock ticked louder than usual, cringing to yourself when the sound became unpleasant to you, it was ringing in your ears.

Even the fatui around you were like statue's, you considered for a minute to check if they were even alive and breathing.

The door then swinged opened, everyone's head suddenly lowering slightly which made you even more confused, but you mimicked their gestures nonetheless for respect.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the room, the sound only getting louder and heavier the closer it got you.

The steps finally stopped, and your glance up to see a big—no, giant man standing right infront of you. He seemed to be wearing a helmet to cover his face, long black hair that protrutes from the back of his helmet and over his shoulders, and the big coat that was full of fur draped around his shoulders.

You must say, he went all out with his appearance as a fatui.

"Are you perhaps..." You started, breaking the silence that hung think in the air, "... The person who I'm arranged to marry?" You finish off, tilting your head curiously.

He doesn't answer immediately, rather, he looks down at you, observing your features which makes you wipe your sweaty hands to your sides.

"Il Capitano," he finally spoke, a raspy voice, you noted. Capitano extended his arm out for you, and you willingly accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"Member of the fatui Harbingers."

His next words made your hand freeze. Did he just say Harbinger? Not even a normal fatui like you thought, but a whole harbinger. Standing right before you, and shaking your hand.

Well you were screwed because what the hell have you gotten yourself into.

You both were quiet now, staring at eachother that it's becoming almost painfully awkward.

"Your name?" He asks, letting your hand go and it's like you were snapped back to reality when you immediately blurt out your name.

He repeats your name like you were on his kill-off list, but that was just overthinking on your part.

"I'd like your company from now on." He announced, stepping a tad closer to you which made you hold in your breath.

"then i shall be at your company..." Giving him your best small smile, you bowed your head again.

•••

Your wedding basically consisted of a witness and marriage papers that needed your signature. You didn't even get the chance to wear a traditional wedding dress nor have a honeymoon, which you don't think is necessary for now since everything was going too fast for your liking.

And Marina, your new personal maid, has become your new friend in this big estate of Capitano's, teaching you everything you must and mustn't do. Kind of like a 101 guide on how to be a wife.

Ever since that day a two months ago, you have not done anything but cause trouble.

You wanted to go out? Well you need your husband's permission. You want to eat something? Ask Marina first and she'll whip it for you no problem, and no you're not allowed to cook by yourself. You bombarded Capitano with questions about himself, but his answers wouldn't be enough as they were about a word or a sentence long.

As boring as that is, this is your life now for... Archons know how long. But you remember it being temporary, if your memory did not fail you.

Capitano had returned back to the estate for the night, and for the first time, you greeted him at the front door with a smile, wishing you could see him smile back at you.

"My lord," you bow elegantly like how Marina taught you, speaking even softly like nothing ever happened a week ago, the fit you remember throwing at him, demanding an answer on why you couldn't do anything around.

The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the clanking of his armor as he took a step closer to you, his towering figure cast an intimidating shadow upon you. "It is rare," he spoke in a blunt tone, "to see you this obedient." Capitano paused, his gaze scrutinizing your every move. "You have been behaving recently?"

You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your clothes nervously like you have been caught, a nervous quiet laugh escaping your lips, "i believe I've always behaved."

Capitano let out a terse sigh at your answer, his eyes unflinching through the slits of his helmet. "To your luck," he muttered, "you have been... tolerable." The word 'tolerable' hung heavily in the air, making it clear that it was the most positive adjective he could summon about you.

"However," he added after a few moments, "you seem more compliant than usual today. This is an... interesting change." His tone was questioning, as if hinting that he was wary of your compliance, expecting a hidden scheme behind it.

"Shall we have dinner?" You change the topic, changing your position to stand by his side so that both of you could walk to the dining room together. Capitano nods curtly, acknowledging your suggestion. He allows you to approach, though there is a stiffness in his movements as he lets you stand by his side.

The two of you begin walking to the dining room, your husband's steps were heavy, and it was evident that he was still in his full armor, the sound of his footsteps filling the hall.

"You are not usually the one to suggest dinner," he commented, "I thought today was nice... Despite how i always fight you, forgive me." you mumble apologetically.

You become quiet when he doesn't answer back, your hands clasped infront of you instead.

You both soon reached the dining hall, now sat opposite eachother on the dining table, Capitano's gaze remained fixed upon you as you both sat across each other, the coldness in his eyes didn't waver as he observed you intently. The silence seemed to thicken as the only sound in the room was the clinking of silverware against the ceramic dinnerware.

"How was your trip?" You asked casually while stuffing some veggies in your mouth.

"The trip was... uneventful," he replied tersely, pausing briefly before continuing. "The usual Fatui business, nothing that concerns you, wife." His words were as biting as ever, indicating that he wasn't keen on discussing his business matters with you.

"nofing mfun?" You ask again with your mouth too full this time, "don't speak with your mouth full of food." You swallow your food down when you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his tone, maybe he was even frowning if you could see him behind his helmet.

"i will retire to my chambers after this," you place down the silverware on the tablecloth to reach for the glass of water next to you. Capitano doesn't answer, but he nods slowly in return.

•••

The world was still and the moon illuminated the grounds outside, casting a soft glow upon the landscape. You could hear the occasional sound of crickets and the whispered rustle of leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere inside the expansive estate.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one seemingly longer than the last as you anticipated Capitano's return this time. You fidgeted with the sheets, as you waited, you recalled Marina's words, a distant memory echoing in your head, "It is custom for a wife to wait for her husband to return before she retires to bed." You never did that, no. You would always sleep before he did and he would always wake up before you did. It was rare to even see him on your side of the bed, only sometimes when you would wake up from a sudden heavy weight shifting next to you.

Despite being married for quite some time, the connection between you two was still distant and cold. Capitano didn't seem to care for you on any emotional level, instead seeing you as a mere accessory to his life as a mighty Capitano of the Fatui Harbingers. A possession rather than a wife, you thought.

Capitano's steps echoed through the room as he stepped into your bedroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He closed the door behind him with a thump, shutting out the outside world and isolating the two of you in the room.

He observed you quietly for a moment, "You're not in bed yet?"

"i was waiting for you."

"And why, pray tell, were you waiting for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Marina..." You mumble, standing up from the bed while looking away in a bit of embarrassment, "she taught me it was custom for a wife to wait for her husband."

Capitano seemed even more surprised upon hearing your answer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Marina... I see," he said slowly, of her name sending a ripple of irritation through him. Capitano disliked Marina's influence on you and how she seethe mentioned to be teaching you things.

He strode closer to you, by now you were used to his presence that it would not make you involuntary step back, you instead wait for his next move.

Lifting his hand to take a few strands of your hair was the last thing you expected. The strands resting on his hand as he lifted it closer to his helmet, almost like a gesture of kissing your hair which made you blink rapidly.

"You don't have to," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing the strands, "don't have to listen to Marina or anyone. You may do your own thing in this estate. I just want you well taken care of and safe."

You think you may have just fallen in love with the man because... Why is your heart beating so fast that it could explode? Or wait, can he hear it?

Capitano then let go of your hair, walking past you as he started loosening the straps of his armor, "it is late," he muttered with a rasp, his hands working quickly to remove his armor. The sound of armor being unthreaded echoed through the room, punctuated by the clinks of metal.

Taking off his helmet next so casually made your eyebrows furrow and sit back on the bed with your head tilted to get a closer look at him.

His eyes were glowing dark blue, the most beautiful shade of blue you think you've ever seen. The prettiest face too despite his dark and intimidating aura.

"you're beautiful." You whispered in awe, though Capitano, who was half-way through removing his armor, paused for a moment as he heard your words. He wasn't expecting such a compliment from you. It was rare for you to praise him, preferring to defy him more often than not.

"Beautiful?" he repeated, his voice gruff, you noticed his expressions and tried to act cool, your fingers nervously scratching your neck out of habit when you get shy.

"You're beautiful too, my wife." This completely caught you off gaurd, but it doesn't stop you from smiling and laughing it off quietly.

"Goodnight." Your head rests on the pillow, and this time you face him in your sleep, and he makes the effort to mimick your gestures.

"Goodnight."

•••

"Marina, where is my wife?" That was the first thing he asked your personal maid the moment he arrived back from his mission. His head looking around rather than looking down directly at Marina.

"The lady should be at her chambers."

"She's not."

"What?" Poor Marina's eyes widened, she was sure she just gave you a basket of fruits and snacks in your room, even asking you if you needed anything else.

"... Forgive me, my lord. She's probably in the bat—"

"She's not in the bathroom." He replied in a low, dangerous tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Where are you, my lady? Marinas thought through gritted teeth before exhaling out shakily, "i shall go find her at once." Marina began looking around every corner of the estate, and each room she opened without you in it, she would lose two years of her life with Capitano following her.

You couldn't have escaped, right?

Finally when she hurriedly went to the back of the estate, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw you sitting outside on the grass with the basket of goods she handed you earlier.

You wave your hands and both Capitano and Marina with a bright smile, causing his shoulders to relax when you were at last seen having fun by yourself.

"you're going to get me killed one day." Marina mouthed at you, but since there was some distance between you both, you just smiled and shrugged at her.

Capitano approached you slowly, his purposeful stride carrying him towards you with measured steps. You were perched on the grass, happily savoring the treats in your hands, when he suddenly materialized before you. "Sit." You pat the space next to you, to which he obliged without hesitation.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"No."

"Never? It's nice."

"You do seem to be enjoying yourself." He hums thoughtfully, and your smile widens, "The last couple of months have been interesting, and i get to know you better now." You say before popping a blueberry in your mouth to chew on.

"Blueberry?" You offer, raising your hand while holding a blueberry in between your thumb and forefinger.

You might think your husband is shy by how he looks around at first before taking off his helmet, cute. Eventually he leans to take the fruit between his teeth before chewing silently, the slight fruit juice glistening on his lips before his tongue along with his thumb swiped over his lower lip.

"you know," you suddenly speak, drawing your hips near him, "we've never kissed yet."

He pauses, staring at you while thinking deep about it, "does it bother you?"

"No, does the idea bother you?" Your question held a mixture of uncertainty and intrigue.

Without a warning, his hand held your left cheek with gentleness, his lips slotting against yours for three seconds max before it ended.

What?

Your eyes were wide open the whole three seconds of it too!

"What was that?" The horror in your eyes was evident, not because you were scared, but because you were caught off guard and your eyes were fucking open. Capitano, upon seeing your eyes, he immediately tried pulling away, thinking he might've scared you in some way.

But you were quick to hold his wrist firmly so it wouldn't leave your cheek. "I liked it." You blurt out with the reddest cheeks ever, and he's almost amused.

"But it was too fast," you clear your throat before tilting your head closer, "may i, husband?" How can he refuse when you asked so nicely too?

Your lips latch onto his for the second time, and this time, you were going to give him a proper kiss. With your lips moving with ease against his, the sounds of soft smacks of your lips together filling the air which makes the tips of his ears go red.

You don't continue after both of you pull away to catch your breath, your eyes staring deeply into eachother as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Let's not do this again," your heart almost drops at his words. Did you mess up again? Did he not like how it felt—

"In public, i meant. I wouldn't like anyone to see you in such a state."

You can definitely hear the crickets in your head. "So we can continue kissing?"

"Mm," he only hums back before reaching for his helmet to put it back on. "I have to leave, i will be back by midnight," and when he stands up, it was your cue to stand up to bid him goodbye.

"Take care, husband." You wrap you arms around him, and he circles his arms back around you into a tight hug. It was not your first hug together, so you got used to the feeling of not being able to breath for a couple of seconds before of his tight arms around you.

•••

Capitano expected you to be awake when he returned from a few errands he had to run earlier, expecting you to wait for for him so that both of you could sleep at the same time ever since you did that day.

But you were asleep, peaceful and relaxed on your shared bed. You, wearing nothing but a silky nightgown like you always do, the blanket shuffled messily on you which revealed your legs slightly parted, and your arms hugging the pillow underneath you.

You looked like an angel to him, so vulnerable.. so pretty like this—god was he pent up from today.

He hands clenched tightly into fists until his knuckles turned white as he looked away, instead busying himself in taking off his usually neat coat which was now covered in few splatters of crimson red.

The sound of the running water masked his muttering, instantly regretting his thoughtlessness. As he grabbed the bar of soap, he began to wash vigorously, trying to expel the memories of combat and the musky scent of carnage. His body couldn't be gentler with himself though, as he massaged his muscles that ached from the constant strain.

His heartbeat quickened as his mind wandered back to you. You were the sweetest thing in his life, and he would never ever hurt you, in fact, he would rather die than have your precious skin scratched. Or even cutting off the heads without hesitating if one would hurt you.

He hates himself for envisioning your body under his, or thinking about how skilled you would be with your tongue or hands. he thought he was a selfish lustful man for thinking of such thing when you were sound asleep and tired.

Unable to bear it any longer, he reached for himself, stroking slowly at first before heavier thrusts took over all while imagining how it would feel like to be inside your soft and warm cunt instead of his hard and rough fist. The steam from the shower served to muffle his low groans, half in agony, half in ecstasy. Closing his eyes, he pictured your warm smile or shy and embarrassed facial expressions as his release came steadily forth, his forehead hit the cool tiles as he let out a deep, satisfied sigh.

After taking a moment to get himself together, he turned off the water and faced the mirror. How can he go back to bed after jerking off to the thought of your smile and sleeping figure? He would very much rather bang his head on the wall.

But he dried off with a sigh and headed back to bed, trying to keep his eyes half closed with his back turned to you as he sinked down on the mattress, taking a bit of blanket to cover himself with his eyes forced shut.

Your sudden arms that enveloped around him from behind is what gave Capitano a scare. A literal scare to the big man.

Were you awake this whole time? Did you hear him back in the bathroom? Was he too loud?

But your soft snores made his stiff shoulders sag in relief, indicating you were still in deep in your dreams.

He decided to turn around to face you, looking down at how innocent you looked, how the moonlight seemed to glow on your face from the window, giving your features a glowy shine.

"You have ruined me," he whispered carefully while brushing off strands of your hair away from your face to press a goodnight kiss on your forehead. "I am yours, ruin me, break me, and love me as much as you want, my wife."

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ GOOD MORNING, BABY !! ❞

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : g. satoru + g. suguru + n. kento + f. toji + k. choso + t. fumihiko

☾₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, mommy kink, breeding kink, satoru and toji are just filthy, choso is so cute and needy, kento is the sweetest husband, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ g. satoru ; satoru tries to wake you up, but you just don't want to. and by try, he means he blew into your ear just for you to huff and smack him away, grumbling to let you sleep or you'd bite him. ohh, you are so cute, he just really can't help himself

“look at my pretty girl, such a mess…tsk, wish she'd wake up, now i gotta fuck her soft, pretty thighs instead of that pretty lil' pussy." “aww, your pussy 's so noisy! listen t' her...she's all wet, she's cryin' f'me to fuck her, isn't she? aww, poor thing...” “ooh, are you cumming, baby? cumming in your sleep like a slutty little girl while I fuck your thighs, so precious…”

✧ g. suguru ; suguru's hands move up and down your soft curves while he grinds against your thighs, quiet, sticky noises sounding in the room. you're so adorable, he wants to shake you awake but teasing you with his thick cock nudging against your clit is so much more fun

“you’ve always been so responsive, i didn’t think my dick between your thighs would get you like this, princess.” “oh? was that my name? don’t tell me you’re having a wet dream about me. so dirty, baby, thinking of me like that while sleeping when I’m right here with you.” “don’t you wanna wake up and move my cock somewhere other than your thighs? c'mon, princess, wake up for me.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ k. choso ; not outright fucking you is painful, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. He’s so fucking hard, that dream affected him more than he thought, and before he knew it, he was fucking your thighs, not caring how loud he was being.

“baby, baby, fuck, hoohmygodd, please! need y'so bad, so fuckin' soft, so soft, fuck, could d' this to you all the time, never wanna stop, p-please, god, 'm gonna cum all over you-!” “sticky fuckin' p-pussy's beggin' me t' fuck it, b-but wanna see you look at me. c'mon, c-c'monnn, please wake up, let me stick it in, o-or 'm gonna waste it a-and cum all over your cunt.” “oh, mmh, ’m cumming, ’m cumming, baby, i-i’ll clean y' up after, g'nna fuck you again 'n' again 'n' againnn, fuck, ’m cumming-!”

✧ t. fumihiko ; poor thing, fumihiko honestly tries to deal with it by himself, trying to just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn't work. he knew what he needed, he needed you, needed to touch and feel you around him. with shaky hands holding your thighs, he slides his aching cock between your thighs, moaning so cutely…and when you wake up and start cooing to him, he absolutely loses himself.

“i’m-i’m gonna mess you up so bad, been wantin’ to leave you a mess for so long, so fucking long, 'm g-gonna cum all over your pretty thighs. 's okay, right? right? mmh, okay, 'm gonna do it, 'm gonna cum on 'em.” “y-yeah, yeah, fuck, your thighs are so soft, feel so good around my cock, gonna cum all over them, m-ma'am.” “'s so much cum, i can’t stop cumming, m-mommy, ’m losing my mind, love your thighs, they're so soft, s' soft, thank you, thank you, thank you-!”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ f. toji ; it’s not uncommon for toji to wake up in the middle of the night, cock hard in his sweats. can you blame the guy when he's sleeping next to the sexiest woman he's ever laid his eyes on. he thanks whatever god there is for giving him a wife like you who lets him fuck your soft thighs until you wake up up so he can stuff you full of cum instead of wasting it on your stomach.

“’s time to wake up, mama, don’ ya wan' me t' fuck your needy cunt 'stead of these pretty thighs?” “aw, y'look soooo cute and dumb right now…my pretty thing. c'mon, spread those legs for me, mama, toji's gonna take care of ya.” “did y' dream 'bout me fucking your thighs? yeah? mm, you’re takin' my cock like you wanted me t' fuck you awake…hm? you want that next time? mm, i’ll keep it in mind, baby girl, now shut up and let me fuck you dumb.”

✧ n. kento ; he usually only does this when he’s very very frustrated from working, coming home to see his pretty baby in one of his button-ups sleeping, thighs out in the open. he can’t help himself, softly calling your name as he slides his hard cock slowly in and out between your thighs, giving you soft smile when you wake up.

“sorry to wake you, darling, I know it’s late, but I need you. you just...look so beautiful, i couldn't help himself.” “you were responding so cutely in your sleep…would you rather I be inside you? ask nicely, honey, and I’ll give you what you want. you know a good husband does whatever his wife asks.” “so, so pretty like this, i could fuck you for days. should i do that, my sweet girl? mm, maybe i should take tomorrow off and keep you in bed all take, make sure that my seed takes. what do you think, sweetheart, you want me to give you a baby?”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[winxanity-ii]

DAMNED DEVOTION [3/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( m. receiving oral/handjob; fem. receiving oral; p in v; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; breeding kink; degradation/praise kink; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 5.4k a/n: ahhh, i can't believe i finally finished the final part to this little 'devotion' piece. to thank you all for following along with this series i may have gone a little filthy 😅 also, don't know if you guys care to know, but it's my twin (@k-nayee) and i's 20th birthday today, wheeewwww 🎉🥳! i'll see you all in the next update, and don't be afraid to shoot an ask/request or check out my other works! this is a continuation of my previous one-shotS, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍' and '𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read those yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

It was a bright afternoon, the sun hanging high in the sky, its rays filtering through the branches of the old oak tree that stood at the edge of the courtyard. The air smelled fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of conversation.

A group of young nuns-in-training, dressed in their modest habits, sat on the grass, their voices soft with laughter. You were among them, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you, your Bible open in your lap, a pencil in your hand as you made notes from the earlier service.

The warmth of the sun on your skin made you feel content, almost peaceful, and you were momentarily lost in thought, the words on the page blurring slightly as your mind wandered.

"Sister ____!" a voice called, breaking through your concentration.

You looked up, startled, to see one of the younger nuns smiling at you, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had a round face, still clinging to the softness of her youth, her cheeks flushed from the sun. Her name was Sister Olive, and she was always one of the more talkative ones, her energy infectious among the group.

"Yes?" you replied, giving her a gentle smile. The group of nuns-in-training giggled amongst themselves, their eyes flickering between you and something—or rather someone—further down the courtyard path.

You followed their gaze and saw Father Charlie walking alongside another priest, his expression focused, his hands clasped behind his back.

The sun seemed to catch on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the soft waves of his hair. He looked every bit the holy man, yet there was an undeniable handsomeness to him, something that drew eyes wherever he went.

Sister Olive leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sister ____, does Father Charlie have a wife?"

Your brows furrowed slightly, confused by the question. "Pardon?" you asked, blinking as you looked back at her.

The group broke into another fit of giggles, Sister Olive glancing towards Father Charlie again before continuing. "I heard that priests can be married if they were married before being ordained..." she trailed off, her tone curious, her gaze turning back to you. "I just wondered if Father Charlie was ever married. He seems like he could be, doesn't he?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, Sister Olive, he isn't married," you answered, your tone soft but firm.

The young nuns exchanged glances, and another wave of giggles spread through the group, their laughter light and full of the innocence of youth.

Sister Olive sighed dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, I thought so. He's too serious to have a wife, don't you think? But still... he's quite handsome."

You swallowed, glancing back towards Father Charlie, who was now nearing the edge of the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area as if searching for something—or someone.

You quickly looked away, your heart fluttering in your chest, a strange mixture of emotions churning within you. You knew you shouldn't think of him in that way, shouldn't let the words of the younger nuns affect you, but it was impossible not to.

The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he had looked at you in the confessional—it all came rushing back, making your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly as you closed your Bible.

A second later, a shadow fell over the group; the young nuns quickly quieted, their giggles turning into soft murmurs. Looking up, you saw Father Charlie standing before you, a small, knowing grin on his lips.

His eyes locked onto yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your breath catch. He gave a short, polite bow of his head. "Good morning, Sister ____," he said, his voice smooth, almost gentle, before his gaze shifted to the rest of the group. "Good morning, sisters."

The young nuns responded in unison, their voices a mix of giggles and greetings. You looked down at your Bible, mumbling a quiet, "Good morning, Father Charlie," along with the others, your face heating up under his watchful eyes.

You thought that was the end of it, that he would move on and let you be, but then he spoke again, his voice calling your name.

"Sister ____," he said, his tone still polite, but there was something in it that made your heart skip a beat. "I was hoping I could have your assistance with preparing for next week's sermon. I need some help organizing the notes and scriptures. Would you be able to spare a moment?"

You felt your heart race, already knowing that this was a lie, that his request had little to do with the sermon and everything to do with the tension that lingered between you.

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile, nodding as you closed your Bible and rose to your feet. "Of course, Father," you replied, turning to the young nuns. "I'll see you all later."

They nodded, their eyes wide with curiosity as they watched you walk away with Father Charlie. He led you across the courtyard, his pace measured, his hands clasped behind his back.

You followed him in silence, your heart pounding, your mind racing with a mix of anticipation and fear.

He brought you to the sacristy—a room in the church where sacred objects and vestments were kept and prepared for use during rituals.

The room was medium-sized, its thick concrete walls lined with shelves that held ornate chalices, gilded candlesticks, and other sacred items. A large wooden table stood in the center, covered with cloth and a few open books, the sunlight streaming through the small window, casting a warm glow over the space.

The air smelled faintly of incense, the scent comforting yet heavy, reminding you of the solemnity of the church.

You turned around just in time to see Father Charlie shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet room.

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat as he turned back to you, his eyes dark, filled with something you couldn't quite name—something that made your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, and turned back around, your eyes roaming over the various sacred objects lining the shelves. You busied yourself by adjusting the cloth on the table, pretending to study the items, anything to keep yourself distracted from the tension filling the room.

You could feel him behind you, his presence heavy, the air thick with something unspoken.

A shudder ran through you as you felt his hands on your shoulders, his fingers rubbing gently against the fabric of your habit, caressing your shoulders with a slow, deliberate touch. You closed your eyes, trying to suppress the tremble that ran through your body, your breath catching in your throat.

"F-Father Charlie..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you could say anything more, he spun you around, his hands firm on your shoulders. His eyes were intense, dark, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the way his pupils were blown wide; his lips parted slightly as he looked at you.

"Shhh," he murmured, one of his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but there was an intensity behind it that made your heart race. His gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, you felt like you were caught, trapped in the depth of his eyes, unable to look away.

You took a shaky step back, your eyes dropping to the floor as you tried to gather your thoughts. You turned away from him, your hands gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white as you spoke, your voice trembling. "Father, I... I find myself at war. What we... what we have, it's wrong. It's against everything we believe in, everything we stand for. I can't... we can't keep doing this."

You heard him let out a soft, frustrated sigh, and a second later, his hands were on you again, spinning you around to face him. There was a tension in his jaw; his eyes narrowed slightly, frustration evident in the way he looked at you.

"No," he said, his voice firm, his gaze intense as he held you in place. "No, Sister. You're wrong. This... what we have, it's not wrong. It's not some sin that we need to be ashamed of." His voice softened slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Do you think the love between Jesus and Mary Magdalene was wrong? Do you think He loved her any less because of who she was? Love is not something to be condemned, not when it's real... not when it consumes you the way this consumes me."

His voice dropped lower, almost a groan, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against yours. "You have no idea what you do to me. The way you look at me, the way you move, the way you speak—it's made me delirious. I can't think of anything else but you; I can't focus on anything but this need, this hunger for you. You've taken hold of me, body and soul, and I can't... I can't let you go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing at the intensity of his gaze, the raw need in his voice. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the conflict within you fading beneath the weight of his confession, the depth of his longing.

"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, a desperate edge to his words. "Please, just let me have you, one last time. If you're sure—if you really mean it, I'll let you go. But please... just one more time."

A soft, almost mousy, "Okay," left your lips before you could stop yourself, the word barely audible, but it was all he needed.

In an instant, he was on you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands pulling you close, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you with a hunger that took your breath away.

Your steps staggered back, your body unsteady as he moved with you, following you, his lips never leaving yours. Your back hit the edge of the table, and he pressed against you, his body warm, his touch insistent, his kiss deepening as his tongue slipped into your mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he guided you onto the table, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel the intensity of his need, the way his body pressed against yours, his hands exploring, claiming, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His fingers were frantic as they pushed up your habit, his touch rough, almost desperate. His lips never left your skin, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, across your chest.

You could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts, his need evident in every hurried movement, every touch. He kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours, swallowing your soft moans as his hands moved beneath the fabric, lifting it higher, his touch hot against your bare skin.

You gasped when he dropped to his knees before you, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, his hands holding your legs apart. Just as he was about to continue, you panicked slightly, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. "W-Wait," you stuttered, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

Charlie looked up at you, his gaze questioning, his breath hot against your thighs. His eyes were dark, filled with desire, and his lips were parted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

You swallowed, licking your lips nervously as you avoided his gaze, your fingers still gripping his shoulders. "I... you always... I mean, you always... please me with your mouth," you stammered, your face growing hot, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I was wondering if... if I could... return the favor?"

Your words were awkward, your innocence clear in the way you spoke, the way your eyes flickered everywhere but at him. You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your voice going quiet. "I mean... if you want, Father..." You finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes wide, nervous, and hopeful.

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension. You began to worry that you had said something wrong, that you had crossed some line, but then Charlie let out a low groan, his hands tightening on your thighs, his head dropping against them. He muttered something, his voice muffled, and you barely caught the words, "Are you truly an angel, or a devil sent to test me?"

He stood slowly, his hands sliding up your thighs as he rose, his eyes never leaving yours. When he reached you, he cupped your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. His lips moved slowly against yours, his tongue teasing, tasting, and when he finally pulled away, he left a soft peck against your lips. His eyes were softer now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, his touch tender.

Then, his expression shifted, his eyes darkening, a low, commanding tone entering his voice as he spoke. "Get on your knees," he said, his voice almost a growl.

You felt a shiver run through you, your body reacting instinctively to his words. You stared up at him, your heart pounding, your pulse quickening as you saw the way his eyes had darkened, the hunger there almost overwhelming. His breathing was shallow, his gaze so intense it made your knees weak.

Slowly, you moved, slipping off the table, your feet touching the ground as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. You didn't break eye contact as you descended, your gaze locked on his, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.

There was something electric in the air, something that made your skin tingle, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

Father Charlie's eyes were dark, his gaze fixed on you, his lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling as he watched you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you almost unbearable.

You knelt there, looking up at him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting, anticipating.

Slowly, Charlie's hands moved beneath his robes, the rustling of fabric almost deafening in the silence of the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him, expecting him to pull his robes up and over his waist, but instead, he began slipping off the entire robe, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your gaze was drawn to his chest as the robe slid off his shoulders, revealing smooth, tanned skin, the muscles beneath rippling with each movement. He pulled the robe over his head, his arms flexing, the fabric falling to the floor behind him.

Your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every inch of him—the broadness of his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell, the dark hair that started at his navel and led downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his unbuckled trousers.

There was a dark line of hair, a happy trail that made your breathing stutter, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Charlie's eyes never left yours as he reached down, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch gentle, almost affectionate. His thumb caressed the bottom of your face before his hand shifted, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks until your lips puckered slightly. His eyes darkened, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"Pull it out," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He dropped his hand away, his gaze heavy as he watched you.

With shaking hands, you reached up, your fingers trembling as they found the button of his trousers. You fumbled for a moment, your breath shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

You unbuttoned his trousers, your fingers brushing against the zipper, pulling it down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room. You tugged the fabric down his hips, the trousers falling to his ankles.

Your eyes widened as you saw the large bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers, the outline of him clear, the sight making your breath hitch. Slowly, you reached forward, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, your gaze fixed on him.

His length sprang free, bobbing slightly before settling against his thigh. You couldn't help but stare, taking him in. The veins along his length stood out, thick and prominent, the head flushed a deep pink, glistening slightly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the reality of it sinking in. He was bigger than you remembered, the sheer size of him making your breath catch, your heart pounding even harder.

That... that was inside me...

Your cheeks flushed at the memory, the thought of it making your thighs press together, heat pooling in your belly.

"Sister," Charlie's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone soft but commanding. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his gaze, his dark eyes watching you intently. There was something in his expression, a mixture of desire and tenderness that made your breath catch. "Give me your hand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated for only a moment before you extended your hand to him, your fingers trembling slightly. He took it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you watched as his other hand moved down his chest, his fingers gliding over his smooth skin, tracing the lines of his muscles before finally wrapping around his length.

He let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as he began to stroke himself, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip. His eyes never left yours, watching your reaction, his lips parted as he sucked in a breath, a shudder running through his body.

The sight made your mouth go dry, your eyes widening as you watched him, unable to look away. After a few seconds, he shuddered your name, his voice rough, needy. "Touch me," he panted, his eyes half-lidded, his gaze filled with desire.

You allowed him to guide your hand, wrapping your fingers around him, his own hand covering yours, his grip firm. A low, broken moan left his lips at the contact, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes closing for a moment.

You could feel the warmth of him, the way he twitched in your hand, the weight of him almost overwhelming.

Sitting up on your knees, you moved closer, your other hand resting on his strong thigh to steady yourself. Your thumb unconsciously brushed against his leg, the muscles tensing beneath your touch as you focused on holding him in your hand.

You looked up at him, your eyes questioning, unsure of what to do next. Charlie's gaze dropped to meet yours, his thumb reaching out to pull down your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he dipped it into your mouth for a brief moment. He let out a soft sigh, his voice almost a whisper. "Open wider," he instructed, his eyes fixed on you. "Drop your tongue, just like you're about to eat a popsicle."

You followed his instructions, your jaw dropping open, your tongue hanging out slightly, your eyes still locked on his. He hummed in approval, guiding your hand up, moving his length towards your awaiting tongue.

The tip of him brushed against your tongue, the taste salty, musky, as he rubbed the head across the surface, letting out an appreciative hum. He did this for a few seconds, his eyes watching every reaction you made, his lips curling into a small smile.

Slowly, he pushed himself further into your mouth, just an inch or two, his breath hitching as he watched you. "Close your lips around it," he murmured, his voice strained. "Suck."

You closed your mouth around him, your lips sealing around the head of his length, your tongue pressing against the underside. He let out a deep groan, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you in place. "Just like that," he whispered, his voice thick hoarse. "That's it... good girl."

You began to suck gently, your cheeks hollowing as you moved your head slightly, taking him in just a bit more. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and slightly bitter, but not unpleasant.

His hips jerked slightly, a low moan escaping his lips as he watched you, his eyes dark, filled with lust. He guided you slowly, his hand on the back of your head setting the pace, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing moment.

"Use your tongue," he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Swirl it around the tip... yes, just like that." You did as he instructed, your tongue moving over the sensitive head, and he shuddered, his grip on your hair tightening, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. "God, you have no idea what you do to me," he muttered, his voice strained, his eyes locked on yours.

You continued to move, your hand stroking the base of him as you sucked, your other hand still resting on his thigh, your thumb brushing against his skin in a soothing motion.

His breaths came in short gasps, his chest heaving as he watched you, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted. He whispered your name, his voice filled with need, his hips rocking slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"You're perfect," he groaned, his head tilting back, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation. "So good... just like that. Don't stop." His words were slurred, his voice thick with pleasure, and you could feel him throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him growing stronger as he neared his peak.

His hips began to move more, his breathing turning into short, desperate gasps, his hand guiding you, holding you in place as he chased his release. He muttered your name, his voice breaking, a mixture of moans and whispered praises filling the room as he lost himself to the pleasure.

When he finally came, the taste of him filled your mouth, his hips jerking, a deep groan escaping his lips as he held you there, his fingers tangled in your hair. He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked down at you, his eyes dark, filled with something raw, something possessive.

Charlie reached down, his hand wrapping around your arm, pulling you up from your knees with a strength that left you breathless. He yanked you into a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue.

He groaned against your lips, his hand moving to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devoured you, his kiss deep, consuming. His tongue moved against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled back slightly, licking across your lips before placing a softer, lingering kiss there.

He pulled away, his eyes locking onto yours, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. Without a word, he lifted you, settling you back onto the table, his hands pushing up your habit, his gaze dropping between your legs as he knelt before you once again. "I need to prep you," he murmured, his voice husky, his hands sliding up your thighs.

His fingers reached between your legs, expecting to find the fabric of your underwear, but instead, they came in contact with your soaked folds. He let out a surprised sound, his eyes shooting up to meet yours, a brow raised in question. You released a huff, your cheeks flushing as you looked away, muttering, "It's laundry day..."

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his lips curling into an amused smile. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your knee before his hands moved to push your thighs further apart, the stretch making your muscles burn slightly, the sensation both uncomfortable and thrilling. He held your legs open, his eyes fixed on you, watching your every reaction.

Before you knew it, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive flesh, a silent gasp falling from your lips, your eyes closing, your head falling back as your back arched off the table.

The feeling of his tongue moving against you, licking, sucking, made your thighs tremble in his hold, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

He worshipped you with his mouth, his tongue moving with purpose, teasing your entrance, his lips closing around your clit, sucking gently.

One of his hands moved up, his fingers brushing against your entrance before slowly pushing inside, stretching you, his mouth never stopping, never hesitating. He worked you with a skill that left you breathless, every flick of his tongue, every gentle thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm built slowly, a steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Charlie seemed to know exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to move his fingers to bring you to the brink, his name falling from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body trembling, your thighs shaking around his head.

But just as you were about to fall over the edge, just as the pleasure was about to consume you, he pulled away.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips, your eyes opening, a mixture of confusion and need in your gaze as you looked down at him. He stood slowly, his eyes dark, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body aching for release.

Charlie licked his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached up, his fingers tilting your head back, exposing the line of your neck to him. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just below your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His other hand moved to wrap one of your legs around his waist, his fingers digging into your thigh as he held you against him, his body pressed tightly to yours.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Don't worry, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll fill you back up and give you what you need." The words sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching at the promise, a whimper escaping your lips.

Charlie reached between your bodies, his hand wrapping around his length, positioning himself. He rubbed the tip against your clit, the sensation making your body jerk, a gasp falling from your lips.

He moved slowly, dragging the head of his length up and down your slit, teasing you, your body trembling in his arms, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

Then, without warning, he pushed forward, bullying his way into you, the stretch almost unbearable.

You arched further into his arms, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your body struggling to accommodate him. He let out a deep groan, his fingers tightening on your thigh, his other hand moving to grip your hip, holding you in place as he filled you completely.

His pace was brutal, each stroke long and deep, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, his hips slamming against yours. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low, rough, filled with need. "You... You feel so good... so tight around me," he panted, his words broken by soft moans. "I'm going to fuck you, fill you up until you can't think of anything else."

His hips snapped against yours, his movements rough, desperate, his body pressing you down against the table, his weight holding you in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Imagine it, Sister," he whispered, his voice dark, almost a growl. "A secret child... a product of our sin, of our blasphemy against the church." His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your core clenching around him, your body reacting to the forbidden promise, the thought of it pushing you closer to the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your entire body tensing, your back arching as the pleasure consumed you, a silent scream on your lips. You could feel Charlie shudder above you, his thrusts growing erratic, his breath coming in short gasps as he chased his own release.

After a few more brutal strokes, he let out a deep groan, his hips pressing against yours as he came, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin.

He stayed there, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. You could feel his heart pounding against your own, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

You shivered as he began to pull back, the movement making you wince slightly, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure.

His softening length slipped out of you, the feeling making you gasp softly, a mix of relief and emptiness settling in your chest. You felt the warm, sticky sensation as globs of his cum poured out, slowly dripping down your inner thighs.

You began to close your legs, thinking he was done, that he would put his clothes back on, but his hand stopped you, his fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, keeping you open.

Charlie lowered himself to his knees once again, his eyes fixed on you, a dark hunger still present in his gaze. Before you could understand what was happening, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive folds.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue, warm and wet, sliding through your slickness, lapping up the mixture of your release and his own. His groans were sinful, vibrating against you, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the taste.

Your brain raced, unsure of what to do or what to say, your body twitching beneath his touch, your legs instinctively trying to close, still overly sensitive from your previous climax. But Charlie's hands were strong, his grip firm as he held your thighs apart, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you open for him.

He was relentless, his tongue moving with purpose, his lips closing around your swollen clit, sucking gently, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white. You could feel the pleasure building again, a slow, steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

You couldn't hold back the soft whimpers and moans that spilled from your lips, your head falling back, your eyes closing as the pleasure consumed you.

When you came, it hit you like a final, blinding wave, your body arching off the table, your thighs trembling in Charlie's hold. A broken cry escaped your lips, your back arching, your eyes squeezed shut.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Your mind was clouded as the pleasure consumed you, the feeling like the flames of damnation licking at your skin. For I am burned by the fire of desire, a sinner in the eyes of heaven.

And you weren't sure if you minded at all.

A/N: ya know, i think my smut has gotten better, what do you guys think??? and to answer the upcoming question(s) i know will be asked: yes, this is the final part, i won't be continuing the 'Devotion' series/making it into a book 😔 i know, i know. i promise i want too, but knowing me, i tend to bounce around/start new projects out of nowhere, so if i didn't spend weeks planning before hand, it'll grow cold eventually, and i don't wanna put you guys through that 😩 but never fret, i will continue writing for father charlie 😝, he's just too versatile not to. see you guys soon ❤️❤️❤️.

[sunniques]

— 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your stepdad goes to great lengths to spoil you.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, somnophilia, cockwarming, masturbation, oral sex (f & m), rimming, face riding, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, cum eating, riding, shower sex, recording during sex, having sex while on the phone, reader can be carried by cheol

➺ WC: 8k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. thank you @wonustars for beta reading this for me <3

Seungcheol is the first to admit that he spoils you rotten. He can’t really be blamed for it since you were a spoiled princess long before he met you. Technically, it’s your mother’s fault for always indulging you every time you asked for something. He knows she only gave in to compensate for not being around as much as she should have, but now it’s a responsibility he’s happily shouldered.

That’s why when you tell him you want to fuck all over the house with no interruptions, he doesn’t hesitate to make that happen. It's not hard despite there being certain obstacles he comes across.

"I don't understand," his wife's voice wobbles just enough for him to realize she's going to push back. "If you're upset with me, what we need is to talk, not give each other space."

"I need time to think, and I can't do that with you here."

"Seungcheol," his wife's voice is tight with repressed emotion. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not leaving my own house—"

"It's my house," he reminds her coldly. "You're hardly ever here, anyway. I know you'd rather be at work than spend time with me or Y/N."

Your mom flinches because his words are like ice, and because they're true. Still, the selfish part of her can't give him what he wants. Not when it feels like this will make her lose him forever.

"But giving you space for the entire weekend—!"

"Don't raise your voice," Seungcheol hisses, eyes dark and dangerous. "I don't want Y/N to hear."

He won't let her ruin your surprise. He wants to see your face when he tells you that you'll have the entire house to yourselves all weekend long.

Seungcheol doesn't feel bad even as his wife swallows thickly.

"Fine," she whispers, "I'll give you the space you want."

"Good. I want you gone before Saturday."

It's still early when you're gently pulled out of your wet dream by an intense pleasure. Through bleary eyes, you can see the sun still hasn't fully risen. You almost think you're still dreaming until you realize that your pussy being hot and wet is very real. Immediately, you recognize the situation and the pleasure clouding your senses.

You let out a needy mewl when you look down to see a head of hair between your thighs. Arousal rips through you when you realize you're completely naked, sleeping shirt and panties discarded beside your equally naked stepdad. Seungcheol groans into your cunt, pulling back a bit to gently suck on your swollen clit. The quiet whine you let out has his cock throbbing.

"Morning, princess."

"Daddy," you moan as you spread your trembling thighs.

"Shh, baby," Seungcheol gently shushes you while still lapping at your dripping cunt. "Your mom's still sleeping. You don't want to wake her up do you?"

More juices drip from your clenching pussy, and for a moment you wish he had crushed some of those sleeping pills in her drink again. But then again, if she slept in and missed her flight you wouldn't be able to have a cum-filled weekend with her husband like you planned. All you can do is hope she leaves for your grandparents' house soon.

"She's not gone yet?" You can't keep the whine out of your sleepy whisper.

"No," Seungcheol sighs in mutual disappointment before dropping his head back down to keep eating you out.

You toss your head back, mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he licks a broad stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit again. He repeats the action before forcing his tongue back into your slick pussy. Your clit pulses with pleasure as Seungcheol slowly eats you out.

"I've been feasting on your little pussy all morning," he hums against you, placing gentle kisses on your soft lips.

"Already got you to cream on my tongue twice."

He sounds so pleased that he got you to cum without waking you. The satisfied smirk on his shiny lips makes you moan and roll your hips into his mouth.

"You like that, sweetheart? Like that your daddy couldn't help himself?" Seungcheol's eyes are dark as he gently nips at your throbbing clit.

You give him a half-hearted nod, mind swimming with pleasure. Seungcheol's tongue smooths over your pussy and runs it up your slit to softly suckle on your clit, getting the sensitive bud messy with his spit. You grind your hips into his mouth eagerly, wanting to put on a show for the dark eyes that are watching you with molten heat.

Seungcheol pulls back, but not without pressing a quick kiss to your throbbing clit. "Roll over for me, baby. I want to try something."

You sluggishly do as he asks, rolling over until you're lying on your stomach. He grabs your thighs and pushes them until you're spread open, glistening cunt on display for him. Your stepdad's groan is guttural and makes you clench around nothing.

"Prettiest fucking view ever," Seungcheol hums to himself, cock throbbing at the erotic sight of you splayed out for him.

Seungcheol's hands grab your ass as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips open. He's quick to dive back into your pussy like a starved man. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, back arching as arousal thrums in your belly.

"God, baby. Love eating this pretty pussy." Your stepdad groans into the wet mess he's created, fucking his tongue deeper into your tight hole.

You try to keep your moans quiet as your hips squirm against the wet tongue spearing you open. The way Seungcheol greedily eats your cunt turns you on even more, and just thinking about what he says gets you even wetter. Feeling his strong hands holding you open as he's fucking his tongue into your clenching hole over and over again is sending you closer to the edge.

You tense slightly when you feel the pad of a finger slide over the furl of your asshole. Seungcheol groans into your pussy making you clench and rock down on the bed. He doesn't move his finger, only rubs it softly back and forth over your asshole.

"Want me to eat this hole too, sweetheart?" Seungcheol pulls back with a wet sound, mouth dragging up to bite your ass cheeks. "All you have to do is ask."

You feel hot all over, loving how fucking nasty he is. How he doesn't hesitate to give you anything you want. All you do is hum, and in less than a second he's spreading your ass until your hole is completely bare for him to see. You wiggle your hips to further entice him. Seungcheol growls as he licks a hot, wet stripe from your cunt all the way to your asshole.

"Daddy!" You cry, pussy fluttering at how much you like it. "More!"

"Don't worry, brat. Daddy's gonna lick you clean," Seungcheol says before he spits on your puckered hole. "I'm gonna eat this cute little ass all morning."

You gasp and moan as he licks over your rim with his hot tongue. The sensation makes you squirm and rock your swollen clit into the bed. While you're distracted by his mouth, he slips a couple of fingers into your empty pussy making you squeal and buck your hips. Seungcheol hums and slowly slides his tongue into your ass, spit dripping down onto his fingers that are scissoring you open.

"Fuck, daddy." You choke out, feeling unbelievably turned on as Seungcheol fucks your ass open with his thick tongue.

He fucks his fingers into your pussy until he's rubbing against your g-spot. You whine and bite your pillow to try and stifle the filthy sounds you're letting out. His tongue greedily licks your asshole open, sloppy wet sounds echoing off your bedroom walls making you drip slick down his fingers. It all feels so good that you wouldn't care if your mom were to walk in on you and your stepdad like this.

You're so lost in pleasure that you almost miss the knock on your door.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Your mom's groggy voice wanders through the door.

Seungcheol groans quietly and buries his tongue past your clenching hole. His tongue fucks deeper into your ass while he fingers your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your stepdad starts to eat you out with more vigor than before. His fingers curl into you, massaging that spot that has you mewling into your covers.

Seungcheol briefly pulls away to whisper his filthy desire. "Cream all over my fingers, sweetheart. Show daddy how much you love having his tongue in your ass."

You can't keep your moan quiet when Seungcheol fucks his fingers into your squelching pussy harder. The long digits brush against your spongy spot until your tight pussy is pulsing around his fingers.

"Y/N?" Your mom sounds a bit more awake now.

You grind your hips into Seungcheol as his tongue slowly laps at the rim of your hole over and over again. The sloppy wet noise fills the room, and you wonder if your mom can hear it. Not that you or your stepdad care.

"I-I'm getting up now," luckily, your fucked out voice can easily be mistaken for fatigue.

"I won't be able to make you breakfast before I go. Make sure you eat something before you go to class!"

She's never made you breakfast—not even when you were in grade school. Instead of pondering on why she was trying to act doting, you give her a shaky okay. All you really care about is the teasing kicks her husband is giving your clenching hole.

When her footsteps fade away, his tongue spears you open again. Seungcheol starts to roughly fuck his fingers into your sopping pussy. It all feels so good that you start to bounce back against your stepdad's mouth and fingers, a preening whine high in your throat. Seungcheol lets out a feral growl and pushes his mouth harder against the furl of your asshole to fuck his tongue deeper into your clenching hole.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy," you mewl softly.

Seungcheol hums and keeps eating your ass, his long fingers massaging your velvety walls. You writhe against your bedsheets, the friction allowing the fabric to rub against your clit. Your toes curl as the stimulation pushes you over the edge. With a muffled wail, you cum hard around Seungcheol's fingers. Your wet walls flutter around his fingers as you asshole clenches around his wet tongue.

Your stepdad pulls away once you come down from your high. He groans lowly in his throat before telling you to stay still. A familiar wet sound fills your ears, and when you look over your shoulder you see him jerking off.

"Gonna cum on your holes." Seungcheol groans, fucking his hand harder.

His fat tip bumps against your spread pussy as hot ropes of cum cover your skin. You moan when you feel him drag the head of his leaking cock up to your asshole to cover it with the rest of his seed.

"So fucking pretty," Seungcheol groans.

You lick your lips and blindly reach for your phone. "Want pictures, daddy."

Seungcheol's grin is devious as he takes your phone and does as you ask. He even gets your permission to take a quick video of your soiled holes. Once he's done, he tosses the phone aside and pulls you up to give you a filthy kiss. You moan into his mouth, knowing this is going to be the best weekend of your life.

"Come on, princess," Seungcheol coos adoringly after you pull away. "Let's go shower."

You lick your lips as your stepdad picks you up and carries you over to the master bedroom. It's thrilling for you, especially because you can hear that your mom is still downstairs. Seungcheol shares your uncaring attitude. He's too busy showering you with affectionate kisses to care that his wife might come upstairs and find you two naked.

The air between you is intoxicating, and you almost feel impatient when Seungcheol gently sets you down on the bathroom counter. You make a move to get off and go towards the shower, but your stepdad is quick to stop you. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, eyes shimmering with arousal and affection.

"Stay there and let daddy take care of you, sweetheart," Seungcheol says before going to start the shower.

He waits until the water warms before picking you up again and placing you under the soothing water. You let out a content sigh and lean against him as the humid air surrounds you both. Seungcheol kisses the top of your head before grabbing a clean washcloth and lathering it up with soap.

Seungcheol is gentle as he runs the sudsy cloth along your body. He takes his time, gently cleaning you while murmuring how pretty you are. You can't help but relax under his gentle touch.

"Cheol," you half moan, half sigh as he presses open mouth kisses on your clean skin.

Your thighs squeeze together when he slowly runs the cloth across your tits. He slowly circles your sensitive nipples over and over until you're mewling and arching into his touch. Seungcheol is quick to discard the cloth and goes to grab your soapy tits.

"Fuck," he groans as he pinches and tugs on your hard nipples. "You have the prettiest tits, baby."

Molten heat invades your senses, the praise making you keen. The way your stepdad is so rough with your nipples has your pussy leaking with a different type of wetness running down your thighs. One of his large hands leaves your soft flesh to turn your head so he can give you a heated kiss. His other hand slowly trails down your body until you feel his fingers swiping across your slit then back up to circle your slippery clit.

"Such a sexy little brat," Seungcheol groans fondly before he hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can watch himself play with your pussy. "Always so ready for me."

You cry out in pleasure when his hand comes down to spank your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your knees buckle, but luckily Seungcheol's arm is tightly secured around your waist. He slowly turns you until your back is against the cool tile. Your eyes follow the beads of water that run down his toned body. The water drip off his thick cock, and you feel white hot arousal consume you entirely.

"Daddy," you whine and reach out for his cock.

Seungcheol smirks and kneels down, ignoring your petulant pout, "Daddy's still hungry."

You clench around nothing as he rubs his large hands along your thighs before spreading them open. His grin is devious as he places wet kisses along your inner thighs. You can't contain your moan as his breath ghosts across your throbbing clit.

"Daddy!" You squeal when Seungcheol finally fucks his tongue into your wet cunt.

Your stepdad groans, the vibration stimulating you further as his tongue slides deeper into your pulsing cunt. It's impossible not to watch him as he messily eats you out, licking and suckling on your sensitive bud. His dark eyes are trained on you, loving the fucked out face you're making.

Seungcheol moans when you grind your pussy into his face. He eagerly laps up your juices, licking and tasing every part of you his tongue can reach. The way he places soft kisses between his licks and sucks make your trembling legs feel like they're going to give out. Your eyes roll back as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole, slurping up every last bit of your arousal.

Seungcheol's cock throbs at the sweet sounds you're letting out. He smirks against your cunt when you arch up and press closer to his pouty lips.

"Gonna cum, daddy."

Seungcheol hums in approval, tongue relentlessly lapping at your clit. "Do it, princess. Cum on daddy's face so he can fill you up."

You cry out loudly and squirt all over his face.

Seungcheol groans in approval and slurps up everything you release. He's smug when fucking you through your orgasm, and he doesn't stop until your legs are shaking. Your stepdad licks his lips and slowly stands, picking you up in the process. He can tell his display of strength turns you on, and it makes his ego inflate.

"Fuck," you mewl when you feel his cock nudge against your pussy.

Seungcheol's gaze is dark as he rubs his throbbing cock along your messy lips. The leaking tip bumps your sensitive clit, making you arch your back and cry out for him. You're so needy and desperate for his dick that he can't make you wait any longer. Seungcheol grabs your ass, squeezing it roughly, before he sinks you down on his aching cock.

"Mmmh, fuck, daddy," your moans come out in a fucked out pants, arms and legs locking around his body.

Seungcheol starts to fuck you slowly, rocking his cock in and out of your pussy at a pace you're not used to from him. Hot water cascades over the both of you, and it makes you feel that much better as your tight walls eagerly suck him in. You feel his cock stretching you out slowly, making you whine into his wet neck.

"Fucking shit, Y/N," your stepdad's groan is guttural. "Tight little pussy feels too good."

It's like you both lose sense of time as Seungcheol slowly splits you open on his cock. The movement of his hips are slow yet deliberate. Every time his pelvis rubs against your clit you see stars. His throbbing tip brushes against the spongy spot inside you, barely kissing your cervix with every precise movement. Molten pleasure consumes you slowly, already making you feel cock drunk.

"Seungcheol?"

Your stepdad's hips stutter at the sound of your mother's voice, but one look at the pout on your face makes him keep going. Especially since you tighten around him at the same time his cock starts to throb and twitch inside you. You two share a filthy smirk, loving the turn of events. It’s so sick and twisted, but both of you are past caring.

"What is it?" Seungcheol calls, slightly annoyed as he starts to bounce you on his cock.

"I– Well..." your mom trails off, sounding completely unsure of herself.

You don't care that it's uncharacteristic of her because Seungcheol starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck. His thrusts have grown rougher, harshly pounding into your squelching pussy. Your eyes roll back as your toes curl. The feeling of your stepdad's veiny cock dragging against your slick walls have you gushing all over him, and the fact that your mom is standing right outside the bathroom door completely unaware only turns you on more.

"I hope giving you the space you want doesn't mean this is the end of our marriage." You can tell she's close to tears as she speaks.

"Cum inside me, daddy," you purr into Seungcheol's ear, wanting nothing more than him to stuff you full.

Seungcheol quietly groans into your neck, feeling your pulsing walls flutter around his cock. His grip on your ass tightens, and he starts to bounce you harder on his aching dick. He hears his wife holding back sobs, but he doesn’t feel bad. Not since he has her daughter’s tight little pussy wrapped around his cock.

"Such a nasty little brat," he hums against your wet skin, hips snapping savagely. "You want me to cream this cute little pussy while your mom is on the other side of that door crying for me?"

You mewl into his ear, pussy clenching around his cock and staining it with more of your cream. Seungcheol grunts, hips moving faster as he fucks into your hole deeper and harder. Your back arches as your cunt spasms around his dick.

"Want it so bad, daddy," you whimper into his ears, nails digging into his back. "Breed this little pussy. Stuff me full and knock me up."

"God damn, baby. You're such a dirty little slut," he whispers against your hot, wet skin. "What would your mom say if she walked in and saw you begging for my cum?"

You whine again, hips rocking into his as his thick cock pistons in and out of your hot cunt.

"What would you tell your wife?" You say through a fucked out giggle. "You'd have to tell her that you're bouncing her daughter on your big cock because you want to put a baby in her."

Seungcheol's deep moan almost drowns out your mother's voice.

"I know you're still mad, so I'll call you when I land. Please take care of Y/N while I'm away."

"Don't worry," Seungcheol growls, loud enough to be heard over the running water. "I'll make sure to take care of her."

You finally wail out in pleasure when you hear the footsteps fade away. Seungcheol savagely rams his cock against your sweet spot over and over until you're cumming hard on his throbbing dick.

"That's it, princess. Make a mess all over daddy's cock. Fuck. I'm gonna fill this cute little pussy all weekend long. Not letting you off my dick until I know you're carrying my child."

Your stepdad spears into your sloppy cunt harder, his leaking tip brushing against your g spot with every thrust. "Fuck, sweetheart. Little pussy feels too good."

With a loud grunt, he pushed his cock as deep as it'll go before thick, hot ropes of cum spurt from his throbbing tip. Seungcheol moans loudly, grinding his cock into your pulsing walls.

You smash your lips onto his, loving the feeling of his cum slowly dripping out of you.

The weekend is coming to an end, and true to his word, your stepdad has not let you off his cock. You've fucked all over the house just like you wanted. In the hot tub out back, then in the pool. On the billiards table and in the laundry room. Even on the kitchen counter and the dining room table. Every surface has been stained with you and Seungcheol's mixed releases. It thrills you because it feels like you're marking the house—your house—in the filthiest way possible.

Seungcheol has been especially doting, giving into every single one of your wishes. He even agreed to record the nasty things you do so you can watch it later on. The videos are mainly taken on your phone, but you have to insist that he take some on his too. After all, he should have some memories of the weekend he planned as well.

This is all so wrong. Seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to make himself care. Especially when you look so beautiful underneath him, with your puffy nipples covered in his saliva and your fucked out expression of absolute pleasure. Especially when you moan and whimper the single word that makes him go insane every single time it falls from your pretty lips.

"Daddy!"

Fuck. To have his sweet little stepdaughter in such a filthy way is everything to him. His cock is buried so deep inside of you that he's certain he's in your guts. His teeth graze your neck as you cling to him. "Like this, angel? Like when your stepdad fucks you like this?"

A cute whine escapes you, but you can't answer because you're too far gone. Seungcheol thinks that you may be doing it on purpose for the camera, but either way, he loves it.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels," his whispered voice in your ear makes you shudder.

Your pussy clenches hard around his thick cock, wanting to keep him there forever.

"So fucking good. God, daddy. I'm gonna cum." Again.

You don't know how many times you've cum already, or if you've even stopped cumming. The entire weekend has felt like one prolonged orgasm for you.

You grab his hair and pull his face to yours, looking into his eyes. "Cum with me—cum inside me," you plead, your tongue flicking against his lips.

Seungcheol can't deny you anything. He never has. His hips speed up, his orgasm so close but he needs you to tip over first. The feeling of his stepdaughter creaming and making a mess on his cock is one he'll never get tired of.

"God, you're such a needy little brat," he groans against your lips. Words can't describe how much he loves you. How fucking thankful he is that you love him the same way. "Can't get enough of daddy's cum, hm?"

It only takes a few circles of his thumb on your clit and you're cumming with a loud whine.

"Daddy, please!" Your fingers dig into the skin of his back while you plead with him to fill you up. It's only a few seconds later that you're taking load after load of his thick cum.

"Mm, yes!" You mewl, closing your eyes, savoring the feeling of it.

Seungcheol kisses your lips, not daring to pull out. He doesn't want a single drop to escape.

"You got all of daddy's cum. Is my sweet girl happy now?"

You smile into the kiss as you catch your breath, looking at him adoringly, "Yes, daddy."

Seungcheol licks his lips hungrily and reaches for the phone propped against the nightstand. He points it at your stuffed cunt, groaning when he sees his cum running down the length of his cock and down to his heavy sack. Just as he’s about to end the video, you buck your hips with a needy whine.

“Want more, daddy!”

And so, ever powerless to your desires, Seungcheol positions your phone in the same spot before giving you exactly what you want. He’s not soft like he was earlier—not that you want him to be. You always act like a greedy brat when you want him to be rough with you.

“What a greedy fucking brat!” He punctuates every word with a rough thrust, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your sloppy hole keeps sucking him in.

“Fucking shit. You need it that bad, baby? Need daddy’s cock to stuff you full until you’re dripping in his cum?"

Seungcheol doesn't realize just how badly you do need it. Your hands reach down to squeeze his plump ass, dragging him as far into you as physically possible. “Yes, daddy, yes! Need your cock, need your cum! Need it so fucking bad!”

Your needy moans only drive him to fuck you harder. Seungcheol feels fucking insane. This is undoubtedly the best sex of his life, and he can’t remember ever fucking anyone so passionately. Fuck, you feel so good.

He’s so addicted to your sweet little cunt that he thinks he might go crazy without it. You just have a molten little pussy that’s sucking and wetting his cock so deliciously, dragging his cum right out of his heavy balls, and he’s powerless to it. All he can do is groan and bury his face in your neck as he pulses warm and hot inside you.

“O-oh fuck, baby!” Seungcheol moans against your skin as he spills his thick load inside you. “There you go, princess. Take all of daddy’s cum.”

Your sweet moans sound like heaven, and he has to smash his lips on yours as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy. “Fuck. Such a tight fucking pussy.”

Seungcheol’s heart nearly bursts when you give him a fucked out smile, eyes full of adoration. “It’s all yours, daddy.”

If there's one thing you've come to learn about your stepdad, it's that he's unexpectedly clingy. Honestly, you love that side of him, which is why you can't say no when he asks you to cockwarm him. You're both sitting on the couch with some movie playing softly in the background. Seungcheol is on a business call while you shop online.

All the pretty things you have in your cart are courtesy of your doting stepdad, and as you go to check out, you feel yourself slowly drifting into a peaceful haze. Seungcheol keeps talking, running a soothing hand up and down your back while periodically placing gentle kisses on your head.

You bask in his warmth and the floaty feeling taking over your consciousness. Seungcheol's cock feels so big and thick inside you that it's all you can think about. The delicious stretch it provides is driving you crazy in the best way, and it only gets worse when he trails his free hand down to squeeze your ass. You mewl into his neck, loving this dreamlike state his cock has you in.

"Feel good, princess?"

His soothing voice is like honey, and it has you sighing against his neck, "So good, daddy."

Seungcheol's smirk is smug, "Yeah?"

You hum with a halfhearted nod, still too lost in the feeling of his cock filling you up.

"Spoiled little brat likes being stretched out on this big cock, huh?"

You whine cutely, pussy clenching down on his thick cock, "Yes, daddy."

"Fuck," Seungcheol grunts, pressing his hips up into you further. "I think it's time to fill this needy cunt."

You roll your hips down with a moan of agreement. It's just like him to give you what you want before you ask for it, "Daddy's the best."

Seungcheol's smirk is unbearably attractive as his hands tighten on your waist. He wastes no time in fucking his cock up into your soaking pussy, making sure to go as deep as possible. You come back to life as his big dick hits your sweet spot immediately. With a loud cry you lift yourself off of his chest to take off the large shirt you're wearing. Your stepdad groans when he sees your pretty tits bouncing in his face, cock twitching inside you.

After several skin slapping thrusts, he slows down to deep rolling grinds. His eyes are dark as he reaches for the buzzing phone he discarded just seconds ago.

"Be quiet for me, baby."

Your eyes drift down to the phone in his hand, smirking when you see it's your mom calling. Seungcheol picks up and put it on speaker, setting the phone aside so he can grab your bouncing tits.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey." Your mom sounds deflated. "How... How are you?"

"Fine," Seungcheol grunts before he starts to thrust deeply into your dripping cunt while pulling and pinching your pretty nipples. "How's things over there?"

Your eyes roll back as you hear your mom go on about how happy your grandparents were to see her. Molten pleasure licks up your spine as you start to meet Seungcheol's rough thrusts. His mouth drops open as your pussy pulses and clenches around his cock.

"How's Y/N?" Your mom asks, but there's something off about her tone.

Immediately, you can tell she's not really interested in what you were up to. It's a tactic to keep him on the phone longer. Not that you care. You know she's not all that concerned since you're an adult and have your own life. It's why she only texted you once after landing.

"She's fine. We spent some time together earlier—just like I promised you." His voice drips with honey as he watches you fall apart on his cock.

You grin impishly as he drills up into your squelching pussy with his thick, heavy cock. Part of you wonders if she can hear the sound of skin on skin or the lewd squelching coming from your stuffed pussy. The thought turns you on so much that you have to tamper down the moan climbing up your throat. You feel like screaming because of how good you feel, and your stepdad just smirks at you like he isn't making a mess of you.

One of Seungcheol's hands slowly trails down your body to where you're connected. His thumb circles your clit slowly, barely giving you any stimulation. You buck your hips and push yourself harder into his hand, ever the impatient brat. He loves it, and yet he ignores your silent plea. Your stepdad stops teasing your sensitive bud and moves his hand to guide your hips into a rolling grind. The other goes to the fat of your ass, roughly squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"Thank you, honey," her tone is love stricken, and you wonder how she could easily fall back into his trap just like that. Part of you finds it funny while the other part of you feels disgusted.

"It means a lot to me that you care for her even when I'm not there."

Seungcheol smirks at you, leaning back to focus on your bouncing tits, "Of course. I have to care for our little princess even when you're not around."

You bite your lip when Seungcheol aggressively thrusts you down on his dick.

"So fucking tight." He hisses through clenched teeth.

"Well I'm grateful, even though I sometimes think she's a little too spoiled."

Both of his large hands are now cupping your ass, helping you bounce on this aching cock. His hungry gaze stares at the way your pretty pussy swallows his cock so perfectly. By now, he's sure your insides are shaped like him, and it just makes him twitch and throb inside you. He's so focused on watching his cock piston in and out of your tight hole that he almost misses his wife's question.

"Honey, are you done thinking now?"

Seungcheol doesn't answer her, instead choosing to spit on your sloppy pussy. You slow your bounces, tight cunt clenches at the action. Your stepdad smirks and does it again. He watches, completely satisfied as you shudder and roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"No," He admits as you start to bounce on his dick again, "I'm still a little angry."

"Really?" Your mom can't hide her disappointment.

Seungcheol nearly loses it when you start to roll your hips sensually, fucking his cock exactly the way he likes it. Your thighs are starting to stick to his from the amount of wetness between you two. With a smug grin, you lean forward to give him a sloppy kiss.

"Let it all out, daddy," you whisper against his lips, "fill my pussy with your cum."

"Seungcheol?"

That annoying voice makes your stepdad fuck you harder, eager to give you what you both want.

"It's going to take some time. Some things don't just go away overnight."

Your stepdad keeps talking to your mom like you're not grinding your needy cunt on his fat cock. It's just making you more wet, and you can feel your arousal dripping down his balls and onto the nice couch. You have no doubt that it'll leave a stain, but that's the least of your worries right now. It turns you on so much to know that Seungcheol is fucking you while he's talking to his wife. You feel like such a slut, but you can't deny how much you like it.

You've never been so wet, and it makes you want to ride your stepdad harder, maybe even get caught. Your pussy spasms and clenches down on him at that thought, making him flinch and bite his lip.

Seungcheol slaps your ass with both hands and cages you against his chest. You muffle your cry of pleasure in his neck as he savagely starts to thrust into you like you're nothing more than a hole. His leaking cock is hitting inside you so deep and hard that it's not long before you cum all over his big cock.

The room smells of sex as he starts to bounce you on his sensitive cock all over again. Loud squelching and quiet whimpers fill the air as your stepdad helps you ride him. One last, milking compression of your silky pussy has him emptying his balls inside you. Seungcheol groans into your shoulder, hips never stopping.

"Okay. I understand," your mom sounds close to tears.

You don’t care. Instead, you start to move your hips to help her husband fuck his cum deeper into your fertile pussy. Your wetness and his cum seeping between your folds and down his veiny girth turns your skilled movements sloppy.

“Give me more, daddy,” you mewl, batting your eyelashes in that coy way he loves.

Seungcheol raises his body into more of a sitting position and roughly pulls you up and off of his cock. You watch dazedly as his dick drools with the remnants of your orgasm and his cum. You lick your lips at the filthy sight of his wet cock.

“Honey?”

Your mom’s voice sounds distant as her husband positions you over the armrest of the couch. He only hums in response as he slowly slides his fat cock back into your messy pussy. Your mouth drops open at the feeling. Once again he’s stretching you out so good that it has your pussy clenching down on him compulsively.

“Do…” She pauses. “Do you still love me?”

Seungcheol can’t focus on her pathetic words as he slowly starts to fuck your sloppy pussy. He can see the remnants of his cum being pushed out of you as his thrusts start to get rougher. Your warm walls cling to his cock desperately, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth.

“How could you ask me that?” Seungcheol mocks her dejected tone, though she doesn’t notice. “You’re the one that’s never home anymore. I’m starting to wonder if you still love me?”

It’s sick how good he is at gaslighting, but you don’t feel bad. In fact it turns you on. Like really fucking bad. Your pussy tightens around your stepdad’s cock which makes him angle his hips to have you biting down on the armrest to stifle your filthy moans. He fucks into your sweet spot as pleasure whites out any coherent thoughts you have.

“Of course I do!” Your mom sounds shrill and distraught, so much that she can’t hear how good her husband is fucking you. How he’s splitting you open on the nice couch she picked out when they first got married. “How could you think—?”

“Let’s talk about it when you come home,” Seungcheol says through gritted teeth, eyes focused on how your pretty ass is bouncing back on his pelvis. “You’re upset, and this is a conversation we need to have in person.”

The pathetic okay sounds distant, and you vaguely catch her saying I love you to Seungcheol before he abruptly hangs up the phone without saying it back.

“Goddamn,” Seungcheol groans as disregards his phone, “trying to suck me in, sweetheart? Greedy little pussy needs daddy's cock that bad?"

He pounds into your sloppy, squelching hole when you loudly moan and nod. Your juices are dripping everywhere, and he fucking loves it. The swollen tip of his cock hammers against your g-spot until you’re screaming for him. Seungcheol smirks, knowing you were just waiting to let it all out.

"I fucking knew it," He groans with an endeared laugh.

"Don’t worry, princess. Daddy’s gonna cream this sweet fucking pussy. Get you all dirty so I can eat you out."

You whine and claw at the couch, clit rubbing against the rough material and pushing you closer and closer to orgasm. By now your legs are shaking from the sheer pleasure his big cock is giving you.

"Should I make you squirt on my cock, sweetheart? Get the couch all dirty?"

You start to bounce yourself back on his cock eagerly, "Daddy, gonna cum!"

Seungcheol grins and affectionately squeezes your sides before his hand slips down to your clit. He tugs your hips back just a little and lands a hard spank across your swollen bud. You squeal loudly, body trembling at the mean action.

"Daddy!"

"Oh, I know,” His voice drips with lust, "you know daddy can’t help but be a little rough with your little pussy."

Your stepdad smacks you again catching your clit on his wedding ring making you scream as your orgasm rushes over you. Slick drips around his cock as your cunt clamps down on his dick. You whine and move your hips in tandem with his, loving how intense this one is.

"Fuck!" Seungcheol growls, hips pistoning harder into your fluttering walls.

“Such a good girl. My good little brat—fuck!"

Your cunt milks his cock as he fills you with hot sticky cum. His thrusts start to get sloppy as he spills rope after rope into your hot cunt.

"Take it," he hisses, biting down hard on your shoulder causing you to moan, pussy clamping down even harder on his dick.

You’re crying out loudly from how good it feels, hole still gushing slick from his fat cock bullying into your pussy and cumming deep inside you. This load is the biggest he’s ever given you. Somehow he doesn’t stop cumming. It feels like stream after stream of his hot seed paints every inch of your fluttering walls white.

"Gonna eat you out after this," Seungcheol groans in your ear, "need to get my mouth on your messy little pussy."

You whine as he pulls out, cum and slick oozing from your hole to drip all down your thighs and onto the couch. Without moving you, Seungcheol lays on his back and shifts until he's underneath your splayed legs.

"Sit on my face, baby," he guides your hips down, “let your stepdad clean the mess he made.”

With a harsh tug, your cunt presses down on his awaiting mouth. His nose bumps against your clit as his eager tongue licks into your sensitive pussy. You feel him moan against your wetness, wasting to time in lapping up the cum he’s left inside you. The filthy action makes you rock against his soft lips. You grab onto his hair and start riding his face gently since you're still reeling from your previous orgasm.

"Daddy!" You cry out as he fucks his tongue deeper into your hole. "Feels so fucking good! Fuck—mhm."

You trail off with a whine as he sucks on your pussy lips and nips at your clit. He greedily eats all the cum out of your messy cunt. Mewling, you press yourself harder on Seungcheol’s face. He groans gutturally when you settle further onto his mouth. Your stepdad grinds his mouth against your puffy cunt making you whine louder, clit throbbing with arousal. He rubs his nose against the sensitive bundle of nerves making you buck into the feeling.

Arousal gushes out of you as your stepdad continues to eat your pussy, and you don’t realize you’re on the verge of another orgasm until you’re squirting all over his face. Seungcheol groans in satisfaction, lapping up every stream that gushes out of your hot little cunt.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Your back arches in a perfect curve as Seungcheol laps up all of your creamy slick.

Of course, Seungcheol only moans along with you and presses even further into your cunt, practically suffocating himself to taste you more. He’ll never get enough of your addicting taste, and you looked back to see his cock hard and throbbing, leaking with so much precum that it looks painful.

When he finally finishes, you don’t let him get up despite the fact that your legs are too shaky to hold your weight. Seungcheol lays back, curious about your next moves. He moans loudly when you crawl down his sweaty body and take his aching cock into your soft hands.

“My turn to have a taste, daddy.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything before you push the drippy tip of his cock past your swollen lips. His loud moan makes your cunt pulse. It makes you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head before licking down the rest of his dirty cock. You can taste yourself, and that just turns you on even more.

"Gonna make me cum in your mouth, sweetheart," he groans, watching your lips stretch around his hard cock.

You keep your eyes on him as you sink your hot mouth on his pulsing cock. He’s so big, too big to fit all of him in your mouth. Not that you care. Sucking him off always gets you so wet. Especially because you can tell how much he loves it.

"Fuck. You gonna swallow the rest of daddy’s cum, baby?" Seungcheol grins at you as you moan around his dick.

“You like that? It’s gonna feel so good, baby. Daddy's hot cum pouring down your slutty throat."

You whine, reaching down to your sore cunt to rub your clit. His filthy words always turn you on so much, and he fucking knows it. You can tell by the way he smirks.

"That turn you on, sweetheart?" He chuckles as you slide his cock deeper into your mouth. Seungcheol pulls out a few inches and sinks back down into you making you moan as he fills your throat.

"Play with that cute pussy. I want you to cum all over your fingers while I fuck your mouth."

You continue to moan as you take his cock further down your throat.

"God, baby, I'm about to cum," his hips stutter, "Be a good girl and swallow every last drop for daddy. Milk my cock just how I like."

Your fingers circle and rub your clit faster until you're moaning uncontrollably around his length. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back at the vibrations he feels on his dick. He moans your name, and that’s all it takes to have you cumming, hole clenching down on nothing as slick drips from your pussy.

With a low groan, Seungcheol eases out of your mouth until you can only suckle on the fat head of his dick. Hot sticky ropes of cum fill your mouth and the back of your throat in the next second. Your stepdad grins when you take his cock and slowly sink it further into your mouth. You moan at the feeling of cum dripping down the back of your throat. Eagerly, you swallow and milk his throbbing cock for all it’s worth.

Seungcheol pulls out of your mouth completely but leaves his swollen tip pressed to your lips, “finish cleaning daddy’s cock, sweetheart."

You press a gentle kiss on his sensitive head before giving it a shy kitten lick that drives him crazy. After he’s satisfied, he pulls you off his cock and sits back on the couch before pulling you into his lap.

Seungcheol kisses you, tongue sloppily licking into your mouth. You moan happily, unable to get enough of him.

"You’re so good for me, baby," your stepdad mumbles after he pulls away, "always such a good girl."

After you’re done, Seungcheol carries you to your room. He cleans you up in your bathroom, tenderly cleaning every part of your body before washing himself. Once he’s done, he makes sure to dress you in your favorite sleep shirt before joining you in your bed.

“Daddy,” you hum as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “love you.”

“Me too, princess,” he hums, arms tightening around you.

“Don’t want this to end,” you say sleepily before finally drifting off into a lovely dream.

Seungcheol hums in agreement, staying up longer to contemplate.

Now that he’s had a taste of what it would be like to have you without anyone getting in the way, he knows he won’t be able to go back. And so, in his deeply twisted mind he starts to plot how he’s going to make that happen. Of course, he’ll have to run his plans by you before attempting anything, but he knows you won’t have any objections.

Seungcheol drifts off to sleep, happily dreaming of a life where it’s just you and him.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[ohproserpine]

i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~" 

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

.

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town. 

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers." 

Charming. 

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman. 

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow. 

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead. 

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose. 

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout. 

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said. 

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit. 

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."