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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: At the request of Papa Emeritus III, you return to your duties around the Ministry, but when he reminds you of your absence from confessional in the past month, he asks you to return to where it all started...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 12k (lol wtf sorry guys this one ran away from me...)

Warnings: Pillow Humping, cunnilingus, panty-sniffing kink (once again, the glove returns...), honestly Copia just gets more pathetic in this part, vaginal fingering, premature ejaculation, cum eating, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, dirty talk (a lot of it...), lots of feelings, idiots to lovers

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Guys... thank you all SO MUCH. The love for this fic has been bigger than I ever thought, and genuinely my heart is so full whenever I get a comment, a reblog, a message about it. I hope this is worth the wait, I know it's literally double the length of the other chapters but I really wanted you to enjoy and immerse yourself - there needed to be a decent enough pay-off after all the pining and angst 😂 Special thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for the beta reading and encouragement, and to @adinferix for their help with the Italian translation!

Copia had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t think of you today. Last night had been the last time. No, really.... He swore it. The moment he decided? When he’d woken up, face down in his pillows – after a night of self-indulgence that included another long-since dirtied and discarded pillow... - and realised that there was something stuck to his face.

Your glove. It had taken at least 25 minutes for the red imprint of that floral pattern to fade away from the pale skin across his cheek, and he’d been mortified - especially when brushing his teeth, having to stare at himself in the mirror with that pattern taunting him. He may as well have written “PERVERT” in sharpie across his cheek instead, for all the shame it brought him.

That pattern was the reason for the Cardinal’s tardiness to his seminar that day, the man scurrying down the halls and checking his reflection in any and every passing surface possible to be sure that there was no longer an intrusive red flower burned into his pale skin.

When he reached his classroom, everyone had taken to their seats already, some chattering away with each other as they waited, others impatiently tapping their feet or pencils with each passing second. Copia slunk into the classroom, muttering apologies with his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the death glares of the siblings who took their studies just a touch too seriously.

Without further ado, the Cardinal began to make some notes on the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked against the board, some of the siblings in the room whining incredulously at the sound and the chatter ceasing as if he’d done it deliberately to shush them.

“Okie dokie, we will look today to focus on Latin pronunciation, and-” the Cardinal froze as he turned back to the class, eyes settling on a figure in the back corner.

He must have been dreaming...

There you sat, in your most conservative habit possible – purposefully changing after your meeting with Terzo that morning, your guilt for derailing the Cardinal in the confessional booth forcing you out of your impressive ensemble meant to manipulate Papa.

Coming to Copia’s seminar was not a choice; you just desperately didn’t want Papa to bring Sister Imperator into this or get yourself in any more trouble. Terzo had spared you a punishment and you weren’t to take this for granted. So, you’d made sure you arrived with a group of other siblings, pushing through into the seminar room and plonking yourself in the very back corner in the hope he wouldn’t see you.

But of course, he saw you. As if his body was magnetically drawn towards you, you were the first he laid his eyes on.

You avoided his gaze, scribbling something down on the paper in front of you to look busy. You hadn’t missed his cut off sentence as his eyes settled on you, nor the lingering silence as you scribbled.

‘Say something, Cardinal... Please say something. I can’t bear this...’ you thought, the seconds ticking by.

“Mi dispiace (I’m sorry), I lost my train of thought for a moment. Pronunciation, sì, that’s where we were. Okay...” he shook his head, returning his attention to the class. He couldn’t focus on you now, couldn’t jeopardise himself that way. One wrong move, and you may disappear for another four weeks, or worse, and Satanas, he’d never forgive himself. That was not the kind of hell he wished to endure.

Throughout the seminar, he would steal quick glances in your direction, as if making sure you were indeed still there, that you were real. Trying to find you before now had been like trying to catch smoke... downright impossible. His guilt gnawed at him like an insect burrowing into his skin, shame creeping over him each time he saw you staring down at your page.

You didn’t want to be here, that much was clear to him. He’d made you uncomfortable, avoiding him... It stung him more than it should.

“I... I think we’re done for today, classe (class) . Good job, molto bene (very good),” he fussed over the book on his desk as the class rose from their seats, gathering their things and heading for the door. In a moment of what he would describe as idiocy, he called out, “Uh, Sorella ______? Could I just...”

But you were gone.

Copia felt like a moron, embarrassed and pining over you as he watched you leave so quickly, quite obviously running from him. All he wanted to do was to apologise, to make you feel like you didn’t have to hide from him anymore. But you were that repulsed by him that you fled at the first chance you could.

He huffed, dropping into his chair at his desk as the room emptied. He thought it over for a moment – you didn’t want to be in his class, and yet you came anyway. Why?

Terzo... He had noticed your absence, questioned the Cardinal over it... Perhaps he’d told you to return to your duties, punished you...

And that was all his fault. He’d upset you so much you’d avoided your duties, hidden yourself away. You were so repulsed by him that you couldn’t even look at him anymore. His sweet, most innocent Sorella…

The Sorella who used to smile at him in the hallways, no matter who she was walking with.

The Sorella who never missed a seminar he was hosting.

The Sorella who only ever confessed on a Thursday, during his duty.

The Sorella who kept stealing glances at him as his brothers performed Black Mass.

Not anymore.

How silly of him to think there was ever any chance you might not hate him. How silly of him to think you might actually be attracted to him, that you could be at all interested in the blithering idiot Cardinale who still reads Beano comics and relaxes with a Juicebox and video games at the end of the working week.

Copia was always brushed to the side, never good enough for a woman as wonderful as you, as beautiful as you.

How daft he felt, and how sick he felt knowing how he had defiled your trust – and continued to do so every. fucking. night. Behind your back, in the shame of his private quarters.

Perverted old Cardinale Copia...

Those moans, oh how he could write a symphony with those moans. They sounded so visceral and somehow so melodic rolling from your tongue as his rolled against your heat. And Sathanas, the taste... he devoured that sweetness like it was his last meal on Death Row. Your hands clutching his hair scraped their nails against his scalp and he growled into your mound with a deep vibration that drew more sweet, sweet moans from your lips.

With two gloved fingers, he breached your walls and with expert precision, he found the spot only you had found yourself – no previous lovers ever able to satiate you like he could. You were his.

His his his.

Even through the leather, he could feel your warmth on his fingers, hear the hungry slurps of your pussy drawing him back in over and over with every pump of his fingers inside you.

“Cardinal... Cardinal....” you chanted like a mantra, eyes screwed shut and breath laboured as he drew you closer and closer to an end, more of your juices seeping out and dripping onto his eagerly lapping tongue, until...

Until...

Sweat beaded on Copia’s forehead as his eyes shot open, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he lay in bed, his skin hot to the touch in the dark around him. His head snapped to the side, seeing the glowing red of his digital alarm clock reading 3:09am.

He rubbed at his paintless eyes, groaning into the dark at the sticky feeling all over his body, the sweat now cooling in the night air and chilling him.

Just a fucking dream.

He could still taste you, still feel you, still hear you... How could he stop this? How would he ever be able to move on from this fucking chokehold you had on him? Does time heal all wounds? Copia sure hoped so.

In the dark, he felt the familiar need in his groin – a stiffness he wouldn’t be able to shake so easily. He didn’t want to, not again. Already he felt like a total degenerate, jacking off to the smell of your used glove a nightly occurrence. But now he was dreaming of you?

With reluctance, he shifted the sheets and let his naked form hit the cold air around him, thick cock standing to attention. He threw an arm over his eyes, his other reaching down until he could lazily stroke the shaft of his shame a few times.

Here we go again, he thought to himself in disgust.

But disgust wasn’t enough to quell the rising lust he felt, and his hand began to pump his length with vigour as he recounted the details of the dream that woke him.

He whimpered into the night, the heavy arm across his eyes shielding himself from his own depravity only getting heavier. His hips started to roll against the mattress, meeting his fist over and over. He couldn’t take this, he wanted so badly to bury himself, to grind down, to feel pressure...

He sat upright, reaching behind him for one of the silk pillows he lay on before. He got up onto his knees, folding the pillow in two to create a crease and pushed it into his mattress, lining his hips up with it.

And like the dirty old cardinal he was, he pushed his cock into the crease, groaning into a tight fist as he did.

He leaned his weight over onto the hand pinning the pillow down and began to roll his hips into the softness, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as images of you flashed in his mind. That dream, it had felt so... so real? As if he could taste you still, smell you still...

And he could, of course, once his hand had snaked under the remaining pillows to retrieve that damned glove he was far too lazy to hide properly these days. He humped the pillow he buried his cock into like a horny teenager, holding that glove against his nose and mouth as he got faster and faster, inhaling.

“Ohhh, cazzo... (fuck),” he groaned, picturing you beneath him, his cock pistoning in and out of you. How good you’d feel beneath him, how slick, and wet, and warm you’d be for him. The noises from the confessional booth still haunted him, ricocheting off the inside of his skull as he buried himself over and over.

“Sorella... Hmmm,” he hummed, “______, merda (shit).” His hips stuttered, the silk dampened with precum giving just enough friction... He wished it was you so badly, your pussy enveloping him. He craved it, like he couldn’t bear to go on without having you, even if it were just once.

He bit his lip as he growled, hunching over the pillow like an animal and spilling his cum into the crease. His hips slowed, lazily rocking back and forth as he milked the rest of his spend until he could take it not more, letting go of the silk and falling face first into the rest of his bedding, uncaring of the mess beneath him.

Integrating yourself back into the Ministry life hadn’t been nearly as hard as you had thought, managing to avoid the Cardinal everywhere other than that damn seminar. You’d heard him call out to you as you were leaving, but it only made your feet carry you faster past your Siblings and out into the hall to escape. You knew it was cowardly, but you weren’t ready to have to explain yourself to him, to see the disappointment in his face or to chastise you for what you’d coerced him into doing.

You knew today you could evade him, his schedule keeping him busy all day and out of your current hiding place; the library.

You adored this library... The corridors were like a maze, easy enough to get lost in your pursuit of knowledge. In dark nooks, high back leather chairs to read in sat in dim lamplight. Artistic renditions of Satanic teachings littered the ceilings as they might in a Catholic church – except, it was Lucifer who danced through each scene instead of Jesus. Dark wooded desks for studying or translating lined up in the middle of the lobby, two grand staircases winding up the walls opposite each other to the second floor. In between the staircases, was the most beautiful part of all...

On the floor sat a reversed Pentagram, carved into stone with pictures of Lucifer and his most feared animals painted into the ramp where the staircases met – goats, cats, owls, bats... the misunderstood creatures tied to him. Carved into the outer edge of the pentagram sat purple stained Atropa belladonna flowers and vines, and atop the raised pentagram sat a marble statue of a white snake winding around a black pedestal. In the mouth of the snake, stuck between the fangs, was the ripest red apple – a symbol of Lucifer’s temptation, his greatest triumph in the Garden of Eden.

That statue always seemed to steal your breath away, as it did anyone who gazed upon it. The care and attention to detail, the way it always shined in the faux candlelight – real was too dangerous around the ancient texts and antique furniture throughout the library – it was just so spectacular.

It was a beautiful place to spend your day, but it served a purpose today. You chose one of the leather high back chairs just off from the lobby to relax and catch up on some reading you’d neglected in your time spent hiding.

As you neared the end of the book you were studying – an old Catholic tome you struggled to translate from the dusty pages – you decided to find the book that you knew countered the Catholic teachings, so you could cross reference and perhaps understand the old book better.

You stood, taking the Catholic tome with you into the rows of tall bookshelves in search of the Satanic counterpart. It had to be up on the fourth shelf, just out of reach. Sighing dramatically in your own laziness, you reached for the running ladder at the end of the shelves, dragging it along its tracks to the spot you had been standing. You rested the book in your arms on a lower shelf, and starting to climb the rungs of the ladder.

In your haste, the long skirt of your chosen conservative habit – the ones you had taken to wearing every day now that you were to be out and about around the Cardinal again – became trapped under your foot and naturally, you slipped from a few feet off the ground, losing your grip and balance.

Two unassumingly strong arms stopped you before you could hit the marble flooring, wrapping around your waist and tugging you to a body behind you to stop you meeting a rather bruising conclusion. “Careful, Sorella...” the chest you were pressed against vibrated with a deep chuckle. “Pretty girls should not be covered in accidental bruises, eh?”

You stumbled to your feet, straightening out your habit and turning to see Terzo smirking at you, his ghostly eye somehow even more bewitching in the dim lamplight. “Grazie (thank you), Papa... I slipped on...”

“Sì, your habit,” his eyes raked over your form, confusion furrowing on his brow as he remembered the other morning in his office – you'd been wearing something much more to his liking. “I must say, I preferred the shorter one, mia cara . With the red stitching...” he winked.

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you averted your eyes from his.

“Did you only wear that for me, tesoro? ” he winked, taking a step towards you, “Thought it would get you out of trouble, eh?” His teasing flustered you, and you couldn’t string a full sentence together as your heart pounded in your ears, breathing irregular to compensate for the rush of oxygen to your brain. He laughed as you stuttered a denial.

“Speaking of trouble, have you been attending your duties, sorella? Did you go to Copia’s seminar?” he stepped back again out of your personal space, allowing you to breathe normally once again.

“Sì, Papa.”

“And was he... happy to see you?” he asked, arching a brow. His tone confused you, like he expected a specific reaction. But Terzo was fishing... he suspected the Cardinal had a crush and was doing anything he could to put you in Copia’s way. He was making you dance around him, like the carrot on a string to tempt the donkey....

“Uh... I don’t know,” you thought back to the way his face fell when his eyes caught yours, the way his breath caught in his throat and the look of fear as his skin had paled to a grey colour. “Perhaps he was surprised.”

Terzo’s face screwed up in confused annoyance. He’d expected better from the Cardinal, for him to be more welcoming when he so clearly had missed you around the Ministry. He’d asked Terzo to keep an eye out for you, to tell him immediately if he saw you, after all.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back to your schedule, mia cara. But you know,” Terzo had a plan... He enjoyed meddling in the Cardinal’s affairs, and well, anyone’s ... “I must insist you attend confessional before today is out.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. You fought to keep your face neutral, quelling every natural urge to look absolutely petrified of the thought. Because of course he would want you to attend confessional today.

On a fucking Thursday.

“It’s been a while, no? If you were gone for four weeks, you must be overdue?” he quizzed.

“W-well, yes...”

“We can’t have you falling behind, mia cara. I’m sure you have something to confess to the Dark Lord,” he turned on his expensive Cuban heels, “I must go, I have some uh... business to attend concerning a rather beautiful Librarian,” he began sauntering off into the bookshelves, “By tonight, per favore, sorella !” he called out behind him.

Just as before, your shoes echoed on the Ministry floors as you walked to the Chapel. Except tonight, they felt louder and louder, ringing in your ears with each step. Your legs carried you on autopilot, unable to disobey a Papa’s direct instruction.

Why did he choose tonight of all nights? It felt like returning to the scene of a crime... You didn’t know what you were going to say, what you could possibly confess to the Cardinal this evening that you’d done in the last few weeks when quite obviously you hadn’t done anything at all...

The Chapel was steeped in dim candlelight, completely void of any signs of life. You stood in the doorway for a moment, staring like a deer caught in headlights at the booth at the other end of the room. A shiver ran over your spine, a nasty reminder that you were supposed to move, to go and sit in that infernal wooden box next to the source of your embarrassment, your fear... your lust.

Because of course, despite your efforts to pretend he didn’t exist, your brain liked to remind you at night that he most certainly did. Except now, the grunts and groans of his pleasure were accurate, burned into your memory and used against you as a weapon as you slept.

With a push, you entered the Chapel, somehow speed-walking to sit inside the booth beside the Cardinal who jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut a little too hard. You wasted no time.

“Bless me, Cardinal, I have sinned,” you deadpanned.

Beside you, the Cardinal sat bolt upright, eyes staring into his peripheral vision, afraid to make a move and look directly at the shadow beside him. If he made any sudden movements, perhaps you’d disappear in a puff of smoke...

He cleared his throat quietly. “Which of the sins have you committed, Sorella?” He stuck to his duty, as you stuck to yours. He wasn’t about to risk trying to have any other kind of conversation with you right now. Perhaps he could try after...

But what the fuck would he even say to you? He wanted so desperately to apologise, but he couldn’t completely clear his conscience without admitting to everything that’s happened since the last time you sat beside each other in this damned booth. And there was no way he could do that, not without the promise that the ground would open up beneath his feet and plunge him into the deepest pit of hell the second he finished confessing.

Beside him, you waited a moment, trying to think of something to confess to, but your mind was screaming the same thing at you. Lust. Lust. Lust. Lust. LUST.

“Sloth, Cardinal,” you huffed, “I’ve neglected my duties.” Coward, you scolded yourself. Not that it was a lie, of course. But... you couldn’t just own up to the worst of your sins.

Copia’s shoulders relaxed next to him, a sigh leaving his lips. Part of him was terrified you might say lust again – he wasn’t sure he could take that torture.

“Do you wish to elaborate, sorella? Is there a reason for your sloth?” he asked, as if he was trying to hurt himself further. He knew it was him – he was the reason. You were avoiding him, disgusted by him.

“I did something terrible, and... I’ve been hiding,” you admitted. The cardinal was confused... What could you, his sweet sorella, have possibly done that was so terrible? Lucifer, you didn’t mean him? Were you that horrified by him?

“Sorella, there’s no need to hide, you... uh...” he couldn’t think straight, his heartbeat rising in his chest as he panicked. He didn’t know what to say... Almost as if he were to absolve you of your sins but that wasn’t what confessional was for? But he wanted so badly to comfort you, to tell you it was okay, that he was so sorry... So very sorry for putting you in that position all those weeks ago.

And on the other side of the lattice, there you sat, feeling sorry for ever entering the booth that night, for pushing him into such a situation with a member of his congregation, for defiling his position as Cardinal.

Both two different sides of exactly the same coin.

“I... I can’t do this, Cardinal. I’m sorry...” you rushed, pushing your way out of the booth and running through the Chapel. Copia sat for a moment, frozen in shock and disappointment when his body reacted before his mind could.

He got up, and chased you. Out through the Chapel, down the hall where the clacking of your shoes was still echoing off the marble. But he kept running, desperately trying to find you without tripping on his cassock. He had to find you. He couldn’t let you stay like this, so angry and disgusted at him. He needed to apologise, even if that meant admitting to all the rest...

“Sorella, wait!” he called, the halls empty for the time of evening it was. He was grateful, chasing a mere shadow through the halls like a predator on the hunt for his prey. Except that’s the last thing he wanted you to feel; hunted.

You found it too difficult to run in your habit, far too long for you. You cursed as you stumbled, somehow managing to stay on your feet in the pursuit of your dorm but the Cardinal was faster than he looked, and before you knew what had happened you felt a grip on your arm dragging you into a nearby door, letting go as soon as you’d been almost flung into the room.

The door slammed, and the Cardinal stood against it, breathless and looking distraught.

“Cardinal, don’t make me s-” you wanted to apologise, to beg to spare you the shame of saying aloud what you’d been thinking since that first confessional... but he interrupted you. “Sorella, mi dispiace if I frightened you, but I owe you an ap-”

“Cardinal please, I can’t-” “Mia cara, just listen...” he begged, but neither of you could get a word in edgeways.

“I’m sorry, okay? I can’t help it, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...” you cried, eyes filling with tears as you yelled your sorrows at him. “What? What are you-” his confusion painted his features, hardened lines forming in his face.

“Y-you’ve always been so good to me, and I don’t want to make you feel awkward or put you through that ever again. I should never have made you do that, I’m so ashamed of myself,” you rabbited on, wailing at him with four weeks of pent-up embarrassment spewing out your mouth. But the Cardinal stared at you as the cogs in his brain turned, realising what you were actually apologising for.

“Are you sorry for your dream, mia cara?” he asked you softly, taking a step to stand of his own accord instead of leaning his back against the closed door.

“Yes!” you yelled, “That and... well... what happened. It was too far, I put you in such an uncomfortable position and that’s not fair of me at all. Cardinal please forgive me, I’m trying not to have these thoughts-” “You’re still having them?” his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting as he processed your rantings.

“Well, um... I... yes, but I’m working on it, I’m trying to busy myself with other things and I thought that maybe if I hid for a while that I could stop it, not that I could look you in the eyes again anyway after what I did, and...”

Copia had heard enough. He strode towards you through the rows of desks and chairs surrounding him, pressing the palm of his glove to your mouth to quiet you and in turn, pushing you to lean back against the solid oak desk behind you. “Sorella, please...”

That moment, singularly, was the beginning of your downfall. When you felt the leather of his glove press against your lips, his body pressing against yours as you stumbled back, and you whined against his hand...

Copia’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected that at all. His movements were not meant to be at all provocative in nature; he had simply panicked, needing you to hush so he could speak, to apologise and not knowing how else to do so. But now... Well, he could see the crimson colour of your cheeks under his glove, matched with the look of shock on your own face. That noise; it was completely involuntary. But it came from a place of lust... Of submission.

A beat of silence passed between you, the air appearing to be sucked out of the room completely, suffocating you both where you stood. Your screamed at yourself inside your head, cursing how pathetically easily you had succumbed to the slightest touch and showed your hand before any kind of game had truly even begun.

“You must learn when to quiet this pretty mouth of yours and listen...” The cardinal tested his limits, watching your response. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell deeply and slowly beneath him, and how your eyes softened a little as they scanned his face and found no real anger there, only the hint of a smirk. “Now, give me a nod or a shake of your head, eh? I want to ask you a few things. Nod if you understand.”

You nodded, his hand still pressed firmly to your mouth.

“Are you still having these dreams, Sorella?” You shut your eyes now, embarrassed, and slowly nodded your head. “And are you still... enjoying these dreams?” he spoke slowly, deliberately. You nodded again, hesitant.

“And have you acted on these dreams since, tesoro?” You took a few deep breaths before answering again; a slow, ashamed, but deliberate nod.

Copia sucked a lungful of oxygen in through his teeth, watching your eyes on him as he did. His head swam in a dizzying array of images; thoughts of the dream you had told him about in such detail, thoughts of you alone at night thinking of him, touching yourself for him. As he exhaled, he looked away from you, breaking the eye contact you held in fear and finally looking around the room.

The seminar room...

… from your dream.

A wicked smirk spread across the Cardinal’s face, and as you followed his gaze around the room, you realised why. You dare not move, holding your breath as he turned back to you, his beautifully monochrome eyes hooded and boring down into yours.

“It’s here, no?” he asked. You didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. “This is where your fantasia (fantasy) takes place, eh? Answer me, tesoro. ..”

You nodded against his hand again, shame flooding your cheeks with warmth. The stirring in your abdomen was growing the longer he stood pressing you into the desk behind you. It was maddening.

“I press you against this desk in that dream, hm?” he knocked on the wood you leaned on with his free hand, in turn pressing just a little tighter against you. You could feel his body heat through his cassock, and it served to focus your own heat between your legs... “Will you remind me, mia cara , what exactly did I do here?”

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth to let you answer him with words – except, you could find none. You stuttered and fumbled as you stared into his eyes, his face so close to yours you could smell his cologne stronger than you ever had. It was utterly intoxicating, a sweet yet smoky aroma.

“Come, now, dolcezza ... Don’t hold out on me now, hm?” The back of his fingers met your cheek, lightly grazing the blush soothingly. “What. Did. I. do?”

There was no escaping this, not that you wanted to. You were so close, your dream practically coming true before you. You may not be able to forgive yourself for pushing your Cardinal over the lines of professionalism all those weeks ago, but here he was, quite obviously flirting with you, enticing you.

Tempting you.

And you would never forgive yourself for fumbling this, for running and hiding once again. And that guilt would be worse, embedded with more shame and embarrassment than ever before.

“You... were kissing me...” you whispered. The Cardinal smiled – not the dirty little smirk from before, more of a satisfactory smile, sweeter.

“Tesoro, I’ll only ask you once – and whatever the answer, I will respect it,” he began, some nerves starting to bubble up in his chest. He feared rejection more than anything, having been rejected his entire life. Could he take it if you rejected him too? He wasn’t sure, but he had to try... “Would you like me to kiss you?”

Your chest bloomed with warmth, eyes flickering down to his half-painted lips and back to his eyes, somehow looking more puppy-dog like as the seconds ticked by. You realised then, he was scared of you saying no. Scared...

But you could never deny your Cardinal.

Words had failed you, that much was clear. And so, you opted for almost involuntary action, slowly leaning forwards against him until your lips barely grazed his. Copia could have sworn he felt his lips tingle where they’d brushed with yours; such a fleeting touch, unsure of yourself but it was all the answer he needed.

He leaned in again, pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that took your breath away... His lips melded into yours with such a longing, both of you easily losing yourself in the moment. Just as in your dream, you sank into him, your hands gripping onto his cassock as he deepened the kiss. His arms had snaked around your waist, pulling your hips flush against him as he hummed into your mouth.

Just as you imagined every night, one of his hands came to remove your veil, letting your hair fall freely while he worked his way past your lips with his tongue, gently mixing with your own as you fell further into him. You whined at the sensation, feeling his hands regroup and tighten on your waist as you did.

He pulled away from you breathless, the black paint of his top lip smudged slightly. He pressed his forehead to yours, searching your eyes for any sign you wanted to back out, but finding nothing.

“You look so beautiful without your veil, dolcezza...” he whispered before he could stop himself. Mentally, he scolded himself for being such a lovesick idiota, but the way you looked into his eyes and smiled was everything he had hoped for. He twirled a strand of your hair in his fingers, watching it as he curled it around the leather. “I had no idea you had all this under there, eh?” he chuckled, “ bellissima (beautiful).”

He dropped the strand and instead came to hold your chin between this thumb and finger.

“Now tell me, what happens next in that dream of yours again?” Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to punch straight through your ribs to get to him. This was happening. This wasn’t you pushing him into anything, you weren’t undermining his authority. He wanted this. He wanted you.

“Your hands... they slide up my habit...” you muttered, shy.

“Like this?” he narrated, crouching momentarily to hook his hand under your habit, trailing slowly up your leg until the skirt hung lopsided around your upper thigh. You nodded at him, watching as his eyes never left yours. “And do I touch you here, mia cara? ” His palm cupped your mound over your panties, and he could feel the searing heat emanating from your core through the leather of his glove.

The noise you made was involuntary – a soft gasp that made his already half-hard length twitch with interest beneath the heavy wool of his clothes. He didn’t wait for you to answer him, his question more of a rhetorical tease. Instead, he slid his hand against you, pressing against your entrance while his palm sat heavy against your clitoris.

“Cardinal...” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting to a perfectly round ‘O’.

He continued to tease for a moment, enjoying the soft mewls and sharp breaths you took each time he would alternate the pressure between his palm and his fingers. But he only had so much control, after weeks of pining, of dreaming of you, fucking his damn pillows to the memory and the scent of you.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and letting them hit the floor around your feet. Without wasting a second or daring to look away from the blissful expression on your face, he dipped his fingers between your folds, dragging them painfully slowly through the mess you had made for him. The choked moan you let out at the sensation of that damned glove sliding through rang out against the stone walls of the seminar room.

Copia collected some of your mess on his glove, lifting his hand into the dim candlelight of the room to see the way it shined. It reminded him of the moment he’d found your sodden glove in the booth, how it left the darker wet marks where he’d held it. Except this time, he was blessed enough to have it right from the source.

“ Splendido... (splendid)” he mumbled, before you opened your eyes to watch him bring his shimmering glove to his lips, tasting what he’d taken. The way he groaned at the sweetness had you clenching around nothing, fisting the cassock you still had such a tight grip on. “I can’t deny myself, dolcezza ... Not anymore.”

Before you had time to linger on his words – not anymore... - he dropped to his knees in front of you, as if ready to worship. He adjusted the skirt of your habit for you to hold around your hips, still covering your modesty for now. Both his hands slid up your thighs, parting them as he slotted in-between, finally coming to uncover you for him.

The way you glistened for him made his concealed erection throb, and as much as he wanted to dive in and devour you whole, he didn’t want to rush this. He’d waited too long to be sloppy here. Instead, he pressed his lips to your inner thighs, enjoying the way they trembled in anticipation. Slowly, he made his way up, his breath tickling and warming the trail of wet he’d left with his tongue.

Finally, his lips pressed against your mound. As painful as it was to have him tease, to gently kiss you where you so desperately needed more, you were grateful for any contact at all after the weeks of anguish believing he held no feelings other than disappointment and disgust for you.

When the Cardinal at your feet finally allowed his tongue to slip between your folds, you couldn’t help the hand that flew to knock his biretta off his head, grasping at the peppered grey hair that grew beneath it. He groaned against you; at your taste, at your heat, at your grip. It was all so wonderfully intoxicating.

As he let himself bury his tongue in you, he lifted one of your thighs over his shoulder for better access for him, and stability for you. He wrapped his arm around that thigh, gripping on for dear life as if you’d disappear on him again. But you were going nowhere anytime soon...

As he mouthed at your clit, he couldn’t help the grunts and groans that rumbled like thunder against you, vibrating through you. You threw your head back in pleasure, uncaring of how loud your moans and whimpers were.

When Copia started to slide his middle finger through your folds below his tongue, you almost collapsed back onto the desk. He pressed against your entrance, slowly allowing his leather-clad finger to slide inside you. He never stopped his tongue, never came up for breath.

When he had his ring finger join the other, you began to see stars. He filled you so well, scissoring inside you and curling up towards that glorious spot inside you that no other had ever found.

“C-Cardinal... ahh,” you whimpered. It fuelled him further, hearing his title fall from your lips above him. It was all too much for him; your taste, your grip. And now that? Oh, how sinful it sounded, how beautiful, like the prettiest songbird singing its morning melody.

He was ashamed to admit that what you were doing to him had such a tight grasp on his sanity, he was losing himself in his mind and his body was following suit. While he had no friction, no pressure, nothing to help the painful need in his crotch, he was so close...

In his reverie, he lifted your other thigh over his shoulder, burying his face further into you as he continued using his fingers to bring you closer and closer to the edge. You had to grip the desk under you to steady yourself, allowing his animalistic urges to take total control of your body. This was nothing like your dream.

This was so much better.

His tongue lavished against your clit unforgivingly, lips circling and suckling from time to time as he drank you in.

“F-fuck, Cardinal... I can’t,” you begged for nothing above him, so close to the edge, dangling by a splintering branch over a deep canyon that was ready to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help the way you bucked your hips anymore, or the way you ground your pussy down into his face, his nose becoming a tool for pleasure as much as his tongue, lips and chin.

That splintering branch snapped clean off when he growled into you, and suddenly you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, back slamming down into the hard wood of the desk behind you. If you felt any pain at all, it didn’t show – you were too busy writhing and squeezing your thighs around poor Copia’s head.

What you didn’t know, was that the growl that had pushed you into your earth-shattering orgasm had been a growl not only of lust, but of anger. At himself.

Beneath you, Copia was squeezing your thigh with the hand that wasn’t buried inside you, desperately trying to stop himself... But his poor, untouched cock had violently flinched beneath his cassock before spilling a hot load of his seed. Copia had cum just from eating you out.

If he didn’t feel like a pathetic pervert before tonight, he certainly did now. Who cums from just going down on a woman?

Oh, but you were not just any woman, were you? Not to him. You were the woman he pined over, stressed over, cried over, came over every fucking night for four wretched weeks. What it was about you, he wasn’t sure, but the Cardinal had never been so besotted with a woman in his life. Dare he say it, it had started long before that night in the confessional booth... He had been drawn to you since the day you took your vows.

And no, he just couldn’t help himself.

You lay on the desk, catching your breath and waiting for your head to stop spinning as your limbs went lifeless around him, one slipping from his shoulder. He detached himself from your core and stood up, readjusting himself in his pants for a more comfortable position now that the wet patch in his underwear was beginning to seep through to bloom into a deep red stain on his cassock. But there was no getting comfortable with his softening cock confined and covered in his own spend.

He stepped towards you, between your legs and reached for your hand with the glove that wasn’t still glistening with your arousal. He lifted it to his completely smudged lips, peppering the back of it with chaste kisses as you came to.

“Mia cara... are you... okay?” he mumbled between kisses. You hummed an affirmative response back, your mind still foggy in post-orgasm haze.

Copia continued peppering kisses to the back of your hand, to each fingertip, your wrist, a little way up your arm and back down as he waited patiently for you to come back around to him. Eventually, you sat up, pushing your habit down to cover your modesty once again. He held your hand in his, gazing up into your eyes with a soft expression you couldn’t quite read.

When you really looked at him, you couldn’t help but giggle. His paint was smudged around his mouth, a grey hue painting him from his nose to his chin, and his hair was so dishevelled he looked as if he had been dragged through a hedge.

“What’s so funny, cara ?” he smiled with you, the kind of smile you can’t keep off your face when someone you adore is laughing near you.

“You look a mess,” you laughed, smoothing out the parts of his hair that were sticking up.

“Ah, sì, you have quite a grip,” he chuckled, looking away for a moment, suddenly bashful. “I trust that was not so bad, eh?” he bit his lip as he waited for your response, a little smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Better than my dream, Cardinal,” you shyly admitted. “But um... my dream doesn’t end there...”

Copia’s smile dropped, realising what you were hinting at. You weren’t done yet... You wanted more from him. But in order to perform, he would have to reveal what you so far had missed.

Before he could protest, your hand was cupping his bulge under his cassock, but as you pressed your palm there, your eyes grew wide, and your gaze dropped to look at what you’d felt.

Wet.

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...”

Someone had stoked the dissipating fire inside you once again, and a flame began to burn. You weren’t sure if it was knowing that Copia had cum in his pants at the taste of you, or if it was his dumbstruck look as he tried to rectify the situation with words but knowing he had been so enamoured with you that he’d reached his end even whilst neglected... that was hotter than you could have ever imagined.

“What was it, Cardinal?” you interrupted him. He silenced quickly, cocking his head in confusion. “Was it how I sounded?” You pressed your palm to the soft bulge beneath you, not at all bothered by the wet fabric.

“Was it how I tasted?” you asked, your confidence growing as his eyes widened in shock.

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” The heel of your palm dug into him, rotating in a small circle over his cock.

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” You heard him moan softly as you stared into his eyes. His cock was beginning to twitch in interest again.

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”

That did it. Without a word, the man before you wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you to him to crash your lips together. You’d awoken something inside him, a beast that he’d been keeping tame until now. Between desperate clashes of lips and tongues, Copia began to tease you back.

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?” he panted against your lips like a dog in heat, “it was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you,” he paused for another heated kiss, “ finally tasting what I’ve been desiring for so long,” and another, “but that I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”

You whimpered at his words, knowing every single one was no lie. But hearing Copia call you his had you arching your back to press against him, your hips desperately seeking him out and your lips messily found his again.

Terzo yawned as he walked down the halls of the ministry, the days of solid paperwork and papal duties - not the mention his library rendezvous earlier that day... - catching up to him as he slogged back to his quarters. The halls were dark, silent. He didn’t rush – he didn’t have the energy to. His mind wandered as he dawdled, taking in the stained glass around him with every step he took.

He rounded a corner, and thought he could hear shuffling coming from inside one of the seminar rooms. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the thought of having to put on his big scary Papa voice and tell whoever was out of bounds this late to go back to their dorms. Why did they make him work so hard, eh?

As he drew closer to the door of a room he presumed was the one inhabited, he heard voices. He reached for the doorknob, until the voices registered, and he realised... These were voices he recognised...

“Uh... mi dispiace, sorella... (I’m sorry, sister...) I... I couldn’t, um...” Was that Cardinal Copia he heard stammering away in there like a moron? Well, as a higher up member of the clergy, he was okay to be out of bounds at this hour. Terzo shrugged to himself and started to turn away from the door – whatever the Cardinal was up to in there was his business. And frankly, Terzo was too tired to even realise he had been speaking to someone...

“What was it, Cardinal?” Terzo stopped, his brows pulling together in thought. That had sounded like you, Sister _____? What would she be doing alone with the Cardinal at this hour?

Terzo was now intrigued, and hung around for a moment.

“Was it how I sounded?” What on earth was she talking about?

“Was it how I tasted?” Terzo’s eyes widened, his jaw falling open. Had he heard that right?

“Was it how I pulled your hair?” This was not the same Sorella _____ he knew, surely not? Such filth spilling from her mouth... He almost felt a swell of pride in his chest.

“Was it, how my thighs tightened around your head?” Terzo all but jumped with giddiness at the door, keeping himself as quiet as possible to not alert those inside. He heard the Cardinal moan the most pathetic little sound, and slapped his gloved hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Oh, fratellino, you are down BAD...

“Or was it how my pussy clenched around your fingers?”

Terzo’s hand dropped when his jaw hit the floor, completely taken aback by your brazen use of such a sinful phrase. He’d clearly stumbled upon something already in motion... Suddenly, he heard a quick shuffle, followed by a suppressed moan from you and a hungry growl from the Cardinal. Terzo jumped away from the door as if it had burst into flames.

Now, Terzo was certainly a pervert. But he was not about to eavesdrop on his brother fraternising with a sister of sin. He recoiled at the thought, shivering as he backed away to the far wall of the opposite corridor. He stood frozen for a moment, his body not reacting anywhere near fast enough.

“You want to know what it was, tesoro?.... It was the thought that not only did I have you right where I wanted you... but I had infiltrated this pretty little head of yours, corrupted the sweetest of all the sorelle... I got to make you, mine...”

That did it. Terzo turned and bolted down the corridor to get away from the lip-smacking sounds and the whines you let slip.

As he rounded the corner and managed to get away from the noises that frankly would now haunt him in his dreams, he couldn’t help but feel a little... proud.

That had been his doing. He’d pushed them together, forced them into each other’s presence knowing how absolutely pitiful and sciocco (foolish) the pair of you were being. Terzo certainly wasn’t blind – he'd seen the Cardinal’s affections, saw how your absence had affected him so. Now he was beginning to think your disappearance may even have had to do with him, in some way. Avoiding him, perhaps?

Not that it mattered. For now, he was proud that his fratellino was making a move – however mentally scarring that move had been to overhear.

And he told you that you were his, too. The meaning of that may have been lost in the moment, but it certainly wasn’t lost on Terzo. Copia meant that with every fibre of his being.

He smiled to himself as he continued to walk to his chambers. For all the teasing and all the jokes Terzo made at Copia’s expense as they were growing up, he had to admit, he turned out alright in the end. His goofy little half-brother who kept his secret Beanos and drank his little juice boxes. He chuckled to himself – he certainly was proud of him. And finally, someone else saw him for more than a bumbling idiot. Someone finally didn’t underestimate him the way the rest of the ministry did.

“Ben fatto (good job) , Terzo,” he smirked to himself. His little plan had worked; albeit, far sooner than expected, and just a little too well.

He would be working hard this evening to forget what he’d just overheard...

Copia’s grip on your thighs around his hips tightened as he deepened your kiss, the leather of his gloves tightening and squeaking over his taught hands. You were sure he would leave bruises with how hard he held you, pulling you flush against him until your core pressed against his hardening length. You didn’t care though; any mark he left on you was like a badge of honour.

“Dolcezza, what do you want from me, eh?” he pleaded, breathless as he trailed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and to your neck, never once disconnecting his lips along the way.

“All of you, Cardinal...” you practically sang, “ please...”

He hummed against your neck, lost entirely to his visceral need to devour you whole. You threaded your hands in his hair again, holding him tight to you as you let your head fall back, enjoying the kisses, the nips and bites, the suckling against your skin that bloomed in beautiful red and purple patches.

Copia stood upright for a moment, biting at the leather on his right hand to free himself of his glove and spitting it to one side before he lay his palm on your cheek. He drank you in with his eyes, hooded and blown out with lust. You nuzzled into him instinctively searching out his touch, your lips finding his thumb to pepper kisses to the tip. It felt oddly intimate, more so than having his face buried between your thighs.

No one ever saw the Cardinal – or any clergy member, for that matter – without their gloves. Their bare touch was saved for those they devoted it to, and here he was, baring himself to you .

You pressed a final kiss to his thumb, before allowing your tongue to lave over the pad of it, your lips following to engulf his thumb in the warmth of your mouth. Copia hummed in front of you, his other hand squeezing your thigh tightly as he watched.

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti, tesoro? (What did I do to deserve you, sweetheart?)” he groaned, pushing his thumb to smear your spit over your lips, adoring the way they glistened for him in the low light. “I want to give you all of me,” he slid his hand to your neck, a wet trail left along your skin by the saliva still on his thumb, and gripped tight enough to send a wave of excitement through you. “Every last inch...”

You whined for him again, as your body seemed to do of its own accord, and let him capture your lips in another kiss. You could no longer stand it – you needed him, like the moon needs the sun to glow brightly in the night.

Hastily, you reached for the buttons of his cassock, making quick work of them until he could shrug out of the heavy red wool and let it fall to the floor. He helped you then, to remove his jacket underneath while you focussed on freeing his length.

“A little messy, mi dispiace ,” he smirked, not sorry at all for the mess he’d made when he now knew how much that had turned you on. On another occasion, you would have liked to sink to your knees, clean him up and ready him for what came next but there was no time for that. Messy or not, you simply needed him.

You didn’t even attempt to remove his pants, instead pushing them just a little further down his hips to allow you to reach into his underwear and take him in your hand. He hissed through his teeth like you’d scalded him, but instead rocking his hips to chase your touch. He had been correct, there was certainly a mess in there – one that coated your hand as you pulled his erection free and pumped along his length once, twice...

“ Cazzo... (Fuck...)” he groaned.

As your hand moved, you let your eyes wonder over his body, half exposed to you now. The physique you had dreamed of wasn’t far off, except he had a little more muscle definition than your imagination had given him credit for, particularly in the two lines that framed his abdomen, leading down to where your hand worked him over. But what caught your eye most of all, was the strange tattoo that sat over his heart, hidden by a thin layer of grey-speckled chest hair.

Three 6’s, in a spiral, marked into his chest for eternity. Your free hand traced the black lines, fingertips grazing over it making him shiver at your touch. You didn’t ask about it, there was no need. He had kept it covered, hidden from knowledge of anyone else until right now – you were the only person he ever wanted to be this vulnerable to. Someday though, you might ask him about that...

Copia moved to remove his other glove, letting it drop to the floor beside him with the rest of his garments. His red pants still clung to his thighs, and he struggled to draw his eyes away from where your hand stroked his cum-covered cock lazily.

With one long, drawn out stroke back up his length, you lifted your hand – smeared in his mess – and pressed two of your fingers to your tongue, sucking the mess from them as you held his eye contact. His expression darkened, baring his teeth to you like an animal as he smirked, watching you lick and suck every last bit of his essence from your hand. A fire raged within you, like lava spewing through your veins at the quiet yet guttural groan he unleashed.

In a flash, he was dragging you to the edge of the desk where you sat, both hands burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. His hips slowly rocked against you, cock dragging through the plentiful juices you’d left for him. You hummed at the feeling of some contact, particularly the feeling of the veins and ridges of his hardness. You needed him inside you, filling you. You couldn’t drag this out anymore; it was like torture. Worse than torture.

“Please, Cardinal...” you begged. And how could he deny you when you’d asked so nicely?

“Kiss me, bella,” he huffed, his focus snatched away by the hypnotising sight of his cock sliding through your folds as he teased. It was as if he could only be diverted by your lips, that he couldn’t drag his attention away voluntarily.

You grabbed him by the jaw with one hand, crushing your lips to his desperately. He growled again, the weeping head of his cock catching on your entrance and slowly, finally, he began to push inside...

Your jaw went slack, kiss long forgotten as your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a staggered moan into his mouth.

“ Sono qui, tesoro... (I’m here, sweetheart...)” he assured, holding your hips flush to him with a hand on the small of your back. He struggled to keep himself still, buried to the hilt and desperate to move, but you needed a moment. The feeling was overwhelming, stretched to the brink of pain and pleasure, dangling dangerously there as you got used to him.

It was a true testament to his self-control and his character that he waited for you – as soon as his length had been buried in your tight, wet warmth he thought he was a goner. He figured that this was it – this was the glorious afterlife he’d been promised, that he prayed to Lucifer for day in, day out.

Having you pressed against him grounded him as much as he needed. He watched the expression on your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort, of regret. He found none, because there was none to give. His lips hovered above yours, enjoying the warmth of your breath as you moaned for him.

You were wearing too many clothes still for his liking; he wanted to be unbearably close to you, to feel the warmth of your skin on his, see you in all your glory. Still buried deep inside you, he used one of his hands to unbutton your habit, slowly revealing more flesh to him, kissing down your exposed chest until he could reach no further down.

He was so gentle with you, so patient. He fought the urges to thrust into you, to take what he so desperately wanted from you. He simply wanted this to be perfect, and the thought had your eyes glazing with an adoration that went beyond a silly little wet dream.

As your own way of signalling you were okay, you wanted more, you shimmied out of your now open habit, letting it pool around you where you sat, and pulled the straps of your bra down, unclipping it at the back.

He watched your slow movements, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingertips. “ Più bella di quanto avrei mai potuto immaginare (more beautiful than I ever could have imagined),” he whispered, pressing his lips to your sternum, feeling your heart beating against him. If only he had known he felt this way, that it was more than just lust – if he had admitted that to himself...

“ Copia ...” you whined, the first time you’d called him by his name all evening... His heart swelled, smiling against the swell of your breast between kisses. “ Per favore, h-ho bisogno d-di te... (Please, I need you...)” you stuttered in broken Italian, piecing together bits you had picked up in your time in the Ministry, but he knew – oh , he knew what you were saying.

“ Qualsiasi cosa per te, amore mio (anything for you, my love),” he replied, sweetly pressing his lips to yours as he cradled your face in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk into him, only for him to begin moving his hips, slowly pulling back from where he had been buried deep within your warmth for a few minutes now at least...

You mewled into his kiss, letting your tongues dance together so beautifully. It wasn’t until he had slid almost completely away from you that he pushed his way back in, gliding almost effortlessly in the slick you’d created for him. He built his movements over a few slow thrusts, gradually setting a pace that would never bring you to any kind of climax, but enough that the two of you were swirling in pleasure, able to enjoy your first moments anchored together.

Copia’s lips never left yours, not to allow moans the freedom to escape or to allow his lungs the freedom to breathe. You were totally, utterly enamoured with each other.

With every roll of his hips, you edged closer and closer to a point of begging for more, begging for a means to an end. He was struggling to keep himself composed, too scared to frighten you off if he unleashed what had built inside him for the last four weeks.

“Copia, m-more... please...” you begged, finally separating the two of you to hazily look in his beautifully distinct eyes, show him the desperation in your own.

“Amore, if I let go, I’m not sure I can control myself...” he warned, still forcing himself to stay at the pace he’d set.

“Then lose yourself, Cardinal... Take me,” you offered yourself to him, trusting completely that he would never do anything you didn’t desperately want yourself.

With no further encouragement needed, and a whisper of “ Cazzo, Sathanas perdonami ... (fuck, Sathanas forgive me...) ” he picked up his pace, effortlessly sliding into you over and over until the tops of his thighs were smacking into the underside of yours. The sounds ricocheted off the stone walls around you, a sinful mix of whines, pants, grunts and skin slapping on skin swirling in the air around you.

The hands laying loose around his shoulders slid into his hair, pulling tight to press his forehead to yours. The desk beneath you groaned and creaked under the force, scraping along the floors with each hit. Your Cardinal’s cock filled you so deliciously, his hips angled to hit the back of your cervix and the top of your pussy where that tantalising sweet spot lay.

“I wanted you for so long, amore mio...” he confessed, “so completely, like un patetico bastardo (a pathetic bastard).” He grit his teeth together, grunting like an animal as he fucked into you. He fought the urge to push you back down against the desk and lift your thighs up, spreading you open as much as possible for him, wanting to savour the closeness, the way he could feel your breath beading in condensation on his neck.

“S-six months...” It was your turn to confess. “I’d b-been dreaming of... you... for six months...” you cried out as he slammed into you harder, fuelled by your admission.

“ Bella , you’ll be the end of me, eh?” he chuckled between pants of breathlessness. “ Adesso sono tutto tuo (now I’m all yours...)”

The coil in your abdomen wound impossibly tighter, threatening to fracture at any moment with the way he rolled his hips up into you, filling you deliciously with each pistoning motion. You felt the ripples from each violent thrust over and over against your clit where his body met yours, and the way his nails dug into your flesh, no doubt leaving bruises with deep crescent shapes imprinted in your skin.

“C-can’t... hold...” you could barely string a sentence together in your current state, “ fuck...”

“Cum for me, amore. Cum for your Cardinal, eh?” he roared. And well, you couldn’t stop yourself if you wanted to.

Fire spread from your core through every nerve ending, spanning your entire body and you squealed and writhed against him. He never faltered, not missing a single beat as you shook and spilled around his cock. The way your walls fluttered around him, squeezed him impossibly tighter made every thrust a struggle, but he fought it – he couldn’t let you down now.

He tensed his body, staving off another orgasm as long as he possibly could. He wanted you to revel in yours, wanted to watch you come undone on his cock like he’d dreamed of so many times. A litany of profanities and mumblings of his name spilled in incoherent babble as your limbs turned to jelly, barely clinging onto him to stay upright. If you were to fall back or forward, you were to choose forward, slumping against his sweaty chest, your head sitting where his neck met his shoulder.

In your tired and overstimulated state, all you could do for him was mouth at the skin there, leaving sloppy kisses while your pussy continued to pulse around him until eventually, he gripped your chin tightly to lift your head and crash his lips to yours. He growled into your mouth, hips stuttering and slowing – he had cum inside you, needing to taste you again as he did so.

With his final few thrusts, his spend leaked from around his cock, mixing with your own climax. He punctuated each thrust with a hum of satisfaction, until he couldn’t take the movement anymore, his cock too sensitive to continue. Still, he didn’t remove himself. Not yet...

Somehow you both slumped together, keeping each other upright with your body weight alone. Your chests rose and fell together, trying to regulate your breathing to have an opportunity to speak at all. But honestly? The pair of you were happy in your blissful silence together for a moment.

After a few minutes, it was you who spoke first.

“I thought you would hate me...” you sighed against his shoulder. Copia’s brows furrowed together, and he stood himself up removing his softening length from you, holding you by your shoulders to get a good look at you.

“Why would you ever think that, amore mio?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“I thought I had overstepped, that night in the confessional. I thought you were ashamed, disgusted...” you drooped your head in sadness at the memory of him excusing you so abruptly that evening.

“No... not with you, never you , tesoro,” he assured. “At myself, sì? I assumed you would despise how I took advant-”

“Cardinal no, you didn’t... Sathanas, we’re both really stupid, aren’t we?” you chuckled, shaking your head at your antics. “Idioti innamorati (idiots in love),” he laughed, until he realised what he’d actually just said – and then the colour drained from his face, his eyes blowing out wide in horror.

You smiled softly, taking his hands from your shoulders and pulling him to take a step closer to you. “Idioti innamorati,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the end of his nose, still greyed from the smudging of his paints. Copia smiled sheepishly, a warmth spreading in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this before, much less ever had someone reciprocate his feelings. He felt strangely at peace, more so than he ever had.

“Tesoro, promise me something, eh?” he asked. You nodded, willing him to continue. “Never hide from me again, okay? I damn near lost my mind.”

You laughed at your idiocy. “I promise, Cardinal.” You leaned forward to press your lips against his, sweetly capturing the moment in a blissful kiss.

When you pulled apart, he wordlessly helped to gather the garments that had been carelessly removed and dressed you again. You exchanged jokes about the messes you both were, how vile it felt to put your clothes back on with the feeling of your spend seeping from you and his still damp in his underwear... How truly ridiculous you both were.

“Come, bella. I have a rather large shower cubicle I think we can both put to good use,” he flirted, pulling you to him by your waist now you were both fully dressed. You agreed, taking him by the hand and wondering through the corridors together back to the clergy suites.

“Besides, I have something of yours I feel I must give back...” Copia laughed at himself, somehow no longer afraid to admit what he had been up to in your absence when he knew now just how depraved your own mind could be.

Your mind ticked over at what on earth he could possibly mean, until it dawned on you... You had lost your fucking glove.

“ You pervert!” you accused, smacking his chest playfully as you walked. “Maybe I don’t want it back, Lucifer knows what you’ve done with that thing...” The two of you giggled and flirted your way back, uncaring and unaware of any prying ears that may hear voices late into the night.

And there were indeed prying ears, albeit accidentally, that perked up at the sound of voices outside his chambers...

Terzo sat on his couch with a glass of vintage red in his hand, attempting to read a book to take his mind off the sinful noises he’d heard from his fratello earlier that evening. When he recognised the noises, he groaned to himself.

‘Must they parade around to remind me of that?’ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes and standing to look through the peephole of his door. He saw the two of you waltzing through the dimly lit corridor, hand in hand like teenagers. The dopey look on his brother’s face was, to him, a wonderful sight; so hopelessly enamoured with you as you giggled and laughed together into the night.

He had always hoped Copia would find someone like you – perhaps that’s why you were the one sister he never tried to bed, the one he felt was off limits to him. Maybe he had always known... but he was glad to see his fratellino acting like himself in your presence. Goofy, dopey Copia. Perhaps now, he could stop looking for approval from those he looked up to and looked down on him, and focus his efforts on simply being himself. After all, he had now found someone who liked him for who he was, not who he hoped to be .

“Idioti innamorati,” he muttered to himself, chuckling at his win.

Sì, his fratellino could be himself now – however pathetic he may be... FIN

A/N: I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing this. This may be my first Ghost fic, but it will NOT be my last - so if you'd like to stick around for more, I'd be incredibly grateful. Send me some head canon requests or some drabble prompts - I'm MORE THAN HAPPY to do those for you. Endless love, Bee 🖤 TAG LIST: @melvilless @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus @edensbuttercups @daughter0fcain @xnothingpersonalx @assassinprocrastinator @funfetti-furby @kadedoesthings @sunbleached-ghoul @gravehags @gbatesx @solluna00 @mae-mei-m @bolliancat @ghulehsin @socksandcr0cs @girlwithissuesworld @fallen-angelito @maccery @wjyndigo @thew0man @a-fools-circus @luxavier @saintedcooper @whatawonderfulexistence--blog @calamity-queen @eternaltiare @moongoore @wagooo @dolceterzo @emeritusing @letstalkstories @sacred-coffin @rainstorms-library @ryos-cruddy-side-blog @fruitmanstyles @relentlessmoon @cardinal-copingmechanism @werich @strawberriiblossoms @evepeve @portaltothevoid @casualghostfan @copias-juicebox @sl1psth3magg0t @enchantedbunny @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

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thatsoanjie · 2 months ago

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In the stillness of the night

Sebastian Sallow x reader

Summary : Haunted by a dream, Sebastian reaches out in the dead of night, hoping that your presence can quiet his restless mind.

Word count : 1 455

Notes : I know most of my fics are drabble length... I just want to get these ideas out of my head so I can go to sleep better at night 😂 also, glad you've been enjoying what I've been putting out!

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The night was still, the cool breeze slipping through your partially open window, carrying with it the whispers of the ancient walls of Hogwarts. You were cocooned in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your chin, the world outside nothing more than a distant murmur as you drifted through dreams.

But even in the most peaceful of nights, darkness has a way of finding cracks in the armor of sleep.

A gentle tapping echoed in the quiet of your room, persistent yet soft, pulling you from the comforting depths of slumber. It was a sound that belonged not to your dreams, but to the waking world. Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, the familiar shadows of your room coming into focus, illuminated only by the pale moonlight streaming through the window.

The tapping continued, more insistent now, drawing your gaze to the foot of your bed. There, perched elegantly on the bedpost, was Brescia—Sebastian’s dark brown barred owl. Her amber eyes gleamed in the low light, watching you with a quiet urgency that made your heart skip a beat.

Without hesitation, you sat up, your movements careful as you reached for the parchment tied to Brescia’s leg. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the rough texture of the parchment familiar yet charged with something new—something urgent.

As you unrolled the note, Sebastian’s handwriting jumped out at you, hurried and slightly smudged:

Meet me at the boathouse. Please. I need you.

The simple words sent a shiver down your spine, an unspoken desperation clinging to each letter. Without wasting another second, you threw on your cloak, the urgency of his message propelling you out of bed. You gave Brescia a gentle stroke, murmuring a quick thanks before slipping silently out of your room.

The castle was a labyrinth of shadows and moonlight, the corridors empty and still as you moved through them with a practiced grace. The air was thick with the weight of secrets, every creak of the ancient floorboards echoing louder than it should have in the silence. You knew the risks—being caught out of bed at this hour was no small matter, especially with Headmaster Black prowling the halls like a hawk. But your concern for Sebastian outweighed the danger.

You reached for your wand, whispering the incantation for the Disillusionment Charm. The magic rippled over your skin, cloaking you in near-invisibility, just as Sebastian had taught you. It was a spell he’d insisted you master, and now, as you moved through the castle undetected, you silently thanked him for his insistence.

The grand staircase loomed ahead, and you paused, listening carefully for any signs of movement. The silence was thick, almost oppressive, but you caught the faint sound of footsteps—heavy, deliberate. Your heart raced as you recognized the gait of Headmaster Black, his silhouette barely visible as he patrolled the corridors. You pressed yourself against the wall, holding your breath as he passed, oblivious to your presence.

Once the headmaster was out of sight, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and continued on your way, slipping past sleeping portraits and silent suits of armor. The journey was tense, your heart pounding in your chest, but the thought of Sebastian waiting for you kept you moving.

Finally, you reached the boathouse, the wooden structure standing solitary and quiet by the edge of the Black Lake. The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, the sound almost too loud in the stillness of the night. The moonlight streamed in, casting long, silvery shadows across the wooden floor.

Sebastian was there, standing at the edge of the dock, his back to you. He stood close to the water, his gaze fixed on the lake's surface, his posture tense. His hands hung loosely at his sides, his fingers flexing as if battling the weight of whatever haunted him. He didn’t turn as you approached, the night air heavy with the unspoken tension between you.

“Sebastian,” you called softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, but it carried across the stillness of the boathouse.

He didn’t turn immediately, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed further, as if bracing himself. When he finally looked over his shoulder, the expression on his face made your heart clench. There was something raw and unguarded in his eyes, something he was struggling to contain.

“You came,” he said, his voice low, the usual playful lilt missing from his tone. He tried to smile, but it was a pale imitation of his usual smirk.

“Of course I did,” you replied, stepping closer to him. “What happened? Why did you ask me to come here?”

He turned back to the lake, his grip on the railing tightening until his knuckles turned white. “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone too casual, too forced. “Just… couldn’t sleep. Thought some fresh air might help clear my head. Figured I might as well have some company.”

“Sebastian,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, “this isn’t like you. What’s really going on?”

He was silent for a long moment, the only sound the gentle lapping of the lake against the dock. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, he turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I had a nightmare,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “A nightmare about losing you. You were gone, and I couldn’t do anything to bring you back. It—it felt so real.”

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, the vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, your touch gentle but grounding. “It was just a dream, Sebastian,” you said softly. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at where your hand rested on his arm, his gaze softening as he finally allowed himself to lean into your touch. “I didn’t want to be alone,” he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not after that.”

“You don’t have to be,” you assured him, your thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “Come with me.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, perhaps, or maybe just a reason to believe that you meant what you said. Whatever it was, he found it, because he nodded, a small, almost relieved smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Alright,” he said quietly. “Lead the way.”

You took his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you led him back through the castle. The journey was silent, your movements cautious as you navigated the dark corridors, the disillusionment charm still clinging to you both like a protective cloak. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable—if anything, it was comforting, a shared secret between the two of you.

When you reached the Room of Requirement, the door appeared as if it had been waiting for you, warm and inviting. You pushed it open, leading Sebastian inside without a word, letting the room shape itself to your needs.

The room was cozy, a safe haven bathed in soft, golden light. A large, plush bed was positioned by a bay window that overlooked the viaduct and the Black Lake, the moonlight spilling in to dance across the floor. The air was warm, the faint scent of cedar and vanilla filling the space, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

Sebastian hesitated at the threshold, his eyes taking in the room with a quiet awe. He turned to you, his expression softer now, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. “This is perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, leading him to the bed and pulling back the covers. “Come on,” you said softly. “Let’s get some rest.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. Together, you slipped into the bed, the warmth of the blankets enveloping you both. The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle crackling of the fire in the hearth, the soft glow of the moonlight spilling across the floor.

Sebastian curled up beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, his arm draped across your waist as if anchoring himself to you. He was being especially touchy tonight, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin, as if afraid you might slip away if he let go. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, the gesture so tender it made your heart swell.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice a mere breath against your skin. “For being here. For… everything.”

You turned your head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead in return. “Always,” you murmured, your voice filled with the promise he needed to hear. “I’m always here for you.”

***

Cue "aaawww". Anyways, requests are open :P Idk if you've noticed my posting schedule, but I have one new fic coming out every Monday at 4pm Eastern time!

Thank you for reading, we shall meet again in my next endeavour.

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hazyange1s · 5 months ago

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Enshrouded

Summary: (abbreviated from the ao3 version because this baby is long enough ��) MC is an Auror seeking refuge from the arduous nature of her everyday life, and finds it in a secret wizarding club hidden in London; where she has an unforgettable encounter with a strangely familiar, masked man.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC / Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT 18+ MINORS DNI. — p in v, oral (f and m receiving), drug/alcohol use, semi-public, anonymous, little bit rough but nothing too crazy, mentions of violence/blood (mc just really LOVES her job lmao), lots of adult language oop, aged up characters (everyone is in their early 20’s)

Word count: 7.3k

A/N: this idea came to me in a dream… nah jk it came to me while watching Bridgerton (go figure). Started writing it months ago and after much self-doubt I present baby’s first published filth 💀

read here on Ao3 🌹

It was the mystery. She had long suspected that was what kept her going back for more, time and time again.

The risk of it all was enticing too, of course, but more than anything, she loved a damn good mystery. One complex and intricate, one that took time and effort to unravel. As an Auror, well, her life was chock full of such simple delights.

Regrettably, there wasn’t much joy to be had in solving the cases slapped on her desk by the Chief Auror - any satisfaction in making an arrest was often muddied by the names of the victims left behind. So she often sought out milder (but just as potent) forms of that heady adrenaline rush in order to scratch the itch - and her absolute favorite was Reverie. Unassuming enough as names go, and the facade would lead you to think so, too: its uniform brick painted a dingy gray just like every other shopfront along the shadowed, misty cobblestone of Knockturn Alley.

If any of her coworkers found out she frequented such a spot …oh, she’d never hear the end of it. Worse than that, her Chief might even believe such behavior warranted suspension; as wanton impropriety from a well known Ministry employee would bring her morals into question. Likely, she’d get an earful about the utter shame it would bring upon the Ministry itself if she were spotted.

But that was the glorious thing about Reverie: the moment you stepped through its doors, you became somebody else.

Or, rather, no one at all.

Attendance was by invitation only; delivered anonymously while the recipient slept soundly in their bed (certainly disconcerting, but how could she complain?). No letter, just a silken black mask.

Donning the disguise allowed its wearer to see past the heavy glamor placed on the building and step inside - without being apprehended by one of the black-clad guards on watch. Yet the mask’s hidden talents didn’t end there. It was the club’s signature secret: while it was true they merely framed the eyes, each mask contained a glamor of their own that completely concealed one’s identity - whether or not someone would recognize them without it.

(You could be staring into the face of your best friend and would never know it.)

Which, incidentally, was expressly forbidden inside the club’s boundaries (one of very few rules, mind); as strict anonymity was what kept the underground facility running, despite the fact that the Ministry remained attuned to the whispers of a taboo venue boasting all manners of rampant debauchery right under their noses.

Still, the sorcery that offered Reverie protection had held true for well over five years, and its owners were more than dedicated to ensuring it was always so.

Most well-versed and connected members of English wizarding society had at least indulged in rumors of an alternative establishment hidden in the city. They traded whispers of what horrors may lurk behind those gray walls - dark magic and blatant impropriety and dangerous indulgences…

They couldn’t be more right.

The air was already thick with the tang of whiskey and rank with perspiration by the time she arrived an hour after its Friday opening. With each step she took through the meandering crowd, heels clicking on the marble floors, curling smoke in every shade imaginable wafted around the room and blissfully chased away the odor with frankincense and mallowsweet.

But she hadn’t come for the medicinals tonight, tempting as they were after a week that had left her emptier than the glasses long ago abandoned by drunken patrons. Not even a goblet of Merlot or a shot of coffee liqueur (with a splash of cream) could chase away what ailed her.

No, tonight she sought only one means of release, and needed nothing but the tension simmering in her blood as fuel for the fire driving her to desperation.

Nights at Reverie were not for the faint of heart (or stomach), nor the chaste and mild. While technically not allowed in open spaces, more than half of the attendees usually found themselves with a partner by dawn; in one of the many private back rooms or curtained-off alcoves - or dark corners, even.

After all, what did they have to lose when the strings of your identity weren’t a factor?

Usually she’d been content to let the men and women come to her, and admittedly there hadn’t been a shortage of such… entanglements in the three months since she’d received her own mask.

But the time for coy shyness and drawn out flirtation was long gone. Leaning against one of the wall-to-floor Grecian columns at the edge of the room, she simply tossed back her hair and began to scan it for potential prey.

There was a generous sample size, it was true. A tall, lithe gentleman whose hair shone like spun gold, a flawlessly curved woman with rich brown skin, a broad redhead sporting a wide grin…

No, no, and no… none of them are just right.

She huffed with restrained frustration, tapping her foot to the string music playing a haunting melody that seemed to fill every space in the curved underground.

You know there’s only one person you wanted to find here tonight.

Perhaps she’d have to lower her standards - beggars can’t be choosers, and all that.

“There you are.”

Gasping, she pressed a palm to her satin covered chest, which heaved beneath the boning of her - possibly too tight - corset at the unexpected greeting. But what truly robbed her of breath until she was penniless… oh, gods.

They’d answered her prayers after all: the man standing behind her with a luminous grin was precisely the one she’d been hoping to see.

A regular, as luck would have it. She’d spotted him in attendance more often than not, but had never had the courage to approach (mainly due to the slew of witches and wizards who got to him first).

With her attraction being largely from afar, she’d assumed that his lack of…well, anything - other than a single dance lasting no more than five minutes - had meant he was uninterested. Though the smile he wore was genuine, not like the mask framing his dark eyes, and it sparked in the dim lighting cast from candelabras around the wide room.

“Here I am…?” She quirked a brow questioningly, hand lowering to her hip. “But, er, you must be mistaken. I’m not sure I’m the person you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure you are.” His chuckle was somehow more musical than the quartet filling the air and more rough than smooth, but exquisitely rich - as was the material of his dark vest and the deep gray collared shirt rolled above his elbows.

“On account of the fact that I’d know that particular dress anywhere. We’ve never been properly introduced, as I recall.”

“You recall correctly.” She smiled - maybe coy was still in the cards, if only to spend more time with this handsome stranger.

“I suppose that’s frowned upon here really, so…I believe there’s a better way we could become acquainted, if you’d be amenable.”

She had to be impressed with his wanton confidence, if nothing else…though she got the sense there were many rather impressive things about him. Even more arresting was the boldness of his touch; broad hands reaching for hers to bring to his supple lips, where they lingered for a moment before releasing her gently.

Alright. He knew what he was doing.

But she had to play just a touch hard to get - if only to give him a taste of what he’d been dishing out for months (intentionally or otherwise). He’d been playing coy after their first and only real interaction; shooting her little winks and whispered hellos on random nights - only to disappear again amongst the all-black crowd without giving her a chance to respond.

Likely, he’d been going off to find some other witch or wizard for entertainment.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, a knowing smile playing on her own red-painted lips. “I don’t recall meeting you at all. Your face has a similar quality to many men here, you see.”

“Ah, somehow I doubt that.” Darkness collected in his dimples (how had she not noticed them before?)

“Saturday, precisely two months ago to the day, you were dancing in my arms wearing a red dress like you have on right now.” His voice was like honey and velvet as he spoke. With each word, he seemed to get closer.

And yes, of course she remembered. She was just surprised he still did.

It’s why she’d been stuck with a ridiculous, schoolgirl infatuation for weeks now; why she’d worn red each and every night in the hopes of catching his attention once more.

The brief escapades she’d busied herself with in the meantime had done in a pinch, but there was something about him she was positively dying to unravel. Perhaps it was the spark in those deep brown eyes - like the dark liquor she favored- that spoke of depths hidden far below the playful, self-assured surface.

Or maybe it was how he smelled from mere inches away, as he was now: pine, sandalwood, and a spicy scent akin to the smoke furling around him like a haze of fog.

“You’ve got quite the memory.” She mused, unable to stop her smile from bursting into full bloom. “I suppose that does ring a bell— you trodded on my foot.”

He groaned. “I’d had a lot of whiskey that night. I’m usually much more coordinated when sober. In fact…”

His fingers slid up her wrist, moving with slow caresses up her arm and shoulder until they came to rest beneath her jaw, angling it up to align with his gaze.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to ask…if you’d let me make it up to you?”

For a moment - just a breath, she hesitated. And why? This was exactly what she’d come for tonight, and with the man she’d lusted over for ages now falling right into her lap… what sort of woman would refuse?

It was something unidentifiable, intangible. A tug on her gut. Something that flashed in the white of his smile as it caught the candlelight. Like a sense of deja vu; there one second and gone the next, leaving her with nothing but the old itch crawling beneath her flushed skin.

“Presumptuous, certainly. But not unwelcome. Everyone deserves a second chance.” She purred, squaring her shoulders and allowing him to guide her to the edge of the room with one palm flat on her lower back.

What she’d expected was to be whisked away to one of the rooms tucked away in the back; filled with four poster beds and velvet curtains and enough firelight to be a safety hazard. Instead, he brought her up to the bar, catching the attention of its immaculately suited (and masked) tender with a wave of his finger. The movement distracted her while he ordered Merlin-even-knew what. She found herself watching the way his fingers curled and wrist turned with each gesture made, his palms visibly calloused - perhaps he had seen his fair share of combat, too - and the backs of his knuckles covered in freckles.

She had to wonder what constellations might be found if she dared to uncover the rest of him.

A glint of gold caught the light, mercifully returning her attention on the smiling eyes of the man who had taken to slipping a glass of red wine between her fingers.

“Shall we toast?” He asked, tilting his chin up in the direction of the raised goblet.

“What are we toasting to?”

“To…” his lips pursed thoughtfully. (Another startlingly distracting body part.) How pink and supple they looked, and how good they would taste when stained with burgundy…

“Liberation.“

Fitting, indeed.

“Santé.” She touched her chalice to his without breaking the meeting of their eyes.

“Slainte.”

The cloying bitterness of Merlot coated her tongue, filling her stomach with warmth - a taste she hadn’t encountered for years. One she missed dearly.

“How’d you know I’d like Merlot?” She licked wine from her bottom lip.

He spoke at the same time; thick brows arched high. “You’re French?”

They laughed, the sounds winding together into a hypnotic sort of harmony.

“You first.” He inclined his head.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I’m simply fluent in the language.” She couldn’t give away any secrets, not even the place of her birth.

“That accent was flawless. Nobody but a native could articulate like that.”

She shook her head coyly, though not without amusement.

“Fine.” A sigh that seemed almost long-suffering stirred the smoke coiling around them. “I prefer my women with a bit of mystery, anyway. As for your question, darling…”

Oh, he was a rogue through and through. His eyes greedily swept over every inch of her gown to settle on the curves and shapes he seemed to appreciate most before he even deigned to finish.

“It’s… bold. Much like you, if you don’t think me too audacious for saying so.”

He paused to take another sip, savoring the act of licking his lips as she had moments ago, and almost smugly noting her obvious interest. “And I’ve obviously noticed you enjoy the color red, even if that part’s a bit on the nose.”

“You could say that.” Her heart fluttered traitorously into her throat. His undivided and enthusiastic attention was not only a welcome surprise, but a conflicting one. It wouldn’t do to fall for a masked man - in the end, they could never truly know each other beyond the four walls that brought them together.

Reverie. A dream - that’s all. You’ll wake up in the morning.

She straightened her shoulders, resolved and refortified. “And do you? Enjoy the color, that is?”

Her voice was low, only audible due to the minute distance between them, the man tilting his head down towards her as one finger grazed the dip of her neckline.

“What’s not to love?” He mused. “Red represents… vitality. Danger. Passion…”

Her skin prickled in the wake of the trail he drew from collar to shoulder and down her arm, and when it found her free hand, their fingers threaded together with such ease that they could have done it a thousand times before.

He could hear her heart, couldn’t he? With that amount of surety behind his stare, there was no doubt she was being read like an open book.

“That’s why we keep coming back here, isn’t it?” He was near enough now that every word was felt as a cloud of heat gracing her wine-flushed cheeks.

“Because we relish danger, and need passion like air. We all come to feel… alive.”

“Hmm. It’s almost as if you prepared that line beforehand.” She laughed.

His was such a beautiful sound, bubbling like champagne and leaving her with a warm feeling as if she’d tasted it herself.

“Let’s say I did… is it working?”

”Absolutely.”

Whatever spell had allowed them to maintain a sense of decorum shattered after that confirmation, which said so much more than was spoken aloud. The look exchanged between them was another conversation in itself; a volley of traded questions and answers that sent pure lightning skittering up her spine.

“Come with me.” He said abruptly (though not without a dutiful incline of his head; dark hair shining with veins of red in the candlelight) before tugging her away from the bar, where their drinks were hastily abandoned.

It seemed he was just as content to curse restraint, pulling her along with such haste that she tripped on her skirts (more than once) - evidently forgetting his longer legs and her tall heels as she bumped into a distracted patron that was left with a spilled drink, a scowl, and a breathless apology she didn’t quite mean.

They paused at the mouth of the corridor tucked in the back. It was lined with nothing but identical doors of deepest mahogany: some tightly shut, some cracked, and others yet wide open.

The meaning behind each was simple enough: shut meant “do not disturb”, cracked meant “listen or join, if you dare”, and wide open meant “vacant”. The wizard gave her a boyish grin as they all but stumbled to a stop in front of one that remained ajar and beckoned with soft golden light from the candles within.

“What are you waiting for?” She panted.

Without waiting on so much as a blink, her hand fisted in the crisp white of his button down, guiding him through the threshold before the slam of wood against the frame echoed in the empty chamber.

“A witch who knows what she wants, I see.” He chuckled, his hands needing no invitation to wind around her waist until their bodies molded at each curve.

“Well, you’ve been taunting me for a while, haven’t you?”

She took advantage of her hold on his clothes, forgoing the ease of simply waving her wand when she could take the opportunity to feel every inch of skin she revealed by releasing the buttons on his shirt.

Freckled - just as she’d suspected, and with a neat nest of dark hair over the swell of his pectorals that her palms begged to rest on.

“Wait, wait.” He huffed, hands coming to halt hers before they had time to slide the heavy coat from his shoulders.

“No - not wait as in stop -“ he’d seen the crease between her brows. “Wait, as in… slow down.”

”You seemed rather impatient a minute ago when you were dragging me through the place.” She said wryly.

“Impatient to get you alone, yes.” His knuckle grazed her cheek gently, reverently studying what little of her face he was able to see.

“But…” It was as transient as a ghost, at first. A phantom of touch over the swell of her lip, and then firmer as his thumb outlined the shape. “I’d very much like to kiss you first. May I?”

That he even asked such a question - let alone made his intentions to savor the night clear - was enough to poke another hole in her notions of a one-night affair. What if she couldn’t stand to never have this man again when it was over?

Well… there was always the luxury of dreams.

“Yes, of course.” She whispered.

She’d been right earlier - the taste of wine clung to the corners of his mouth, somehow even sweeter when combined with a hint of peppermint cooling the sharp breath he took the moment their lips fit together effortlessly. Her tongue sought to part them in search of the buzz that the alcohol couldn’t take credit for; finding his and groaning with delight as he melted into her.

A soft tug on her scalp announced the presence of his fingers as they threaded through strands of hair with the sole purpose of eliminating any and all space between them. Eagerly he rolled their tongues together, smearing the red painted on her lips across his chin.

They only paused to share a breath that left her dizzy. The sight of his skin stained with rouge was more beautiful than any art piece hanging on the tapestried walls - and there would be more colors adorning it by the end of the night, if she had anything to say about it.

“Now…” The brunet exhaled when they broke apart, lips brushing with each word. “Now, you can take off my clothes.”

No need to tell her twice.

His vest slumped to the floor, giving her leave to continue her work on that long trail of buttons ending at the waist of his trousers. Before long it, too, was little more than a rag at their feet. When she was privy to every square inch of his bare torso, her hands took liberties to caress the panes of his chest, marveling without shame.

“If you’ll allow me the honor, I’d like to even the score.” His voice was near a husk as he watched her intently.

No complaints arose (alright, perhaps one — when he spun her around; effectively depriving her of the ability to keep touching him) as the skilled wizard sought the eye hooks at the back of her bodice, dexterous fingers releasing each one with a snap that seemed to echo. All the while his mouth found her skin - tongue laving over her throat, teeth nipping where it met her shoulder to plant a bloom of deepest red.

“Mmm… keep doing that.” She hummed appreciatively, head lolling to the side.

“You don’t mind if I leave you a few reminders to find in the morning?” He chuckled. By then, he’d succeeded in freeing her of the constricting garment, tossing it to the carpet by the fire before he started to untie her skirt.

“Not at all.”

”Good,” another kiss, just below her ear this time. “Because I want to be able to see that it’s still there next time we meet.”

If he wasn’t careful, she’d start to think he already had plans to do this again.

She didn’t wait for him to move her this time; taking control back once she was only clad in her underthings by going for the buttons holding up his bottoms. Oddly enough, her fingers took on a tremulous quality - one she’d rarely (if ever) experienced in an intimate moment since her very first.

He seemed to adopt a similar growing impatience that made him forgo the back and forth to slip the sleeves of her chemise down, guiding the garment over her figure.

”Gods, you’re a vision.” He groaned and reached for the curve of her waist, feeling out the shape only to travel upwards until he could cup a breast in each hand, thumbs teasing the peaks hardened against the air.

Even as she shivered when he leaned down to bestow a kiss on either one, she managed to get him out of everything but the long undergarments concealing that which she craved most. But when she went for them, he stopped her yet again - catching her wrist only to sweep the startled witch into his awaiting arms with a self-satisfied grin.

The mattress depressed beneath her weight, bouncing back as she blew away a stray lock of hair to look up at him. Watching the way his arms — corded with thick veins — flexed and his eyes narrowed. With barely concealed impatience he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his hands around her thighs.

“Quite the man handler, you are.” She giggled once he’d yanked her towards him so her legs fell open on either side of his knees.

That drew the attention of his wandering eyes.

“Somehow I doubt that was a complaint.” His mouth quirked in earnest. ”Nor do I envision you’ll have any after I’m done with you.”

He began to toy with the idea of removing her drawers - the last thing preventing her from losing her mind, potentially - by sliding his fingers beneath their frilly hems, nails prickling the skin of her thighs as they scratched up and down in a taunting rhythm.

“Tell me something about yourself,” he whispered out of the clear blue. “Anything. The only things I know about you are that you’re French, love the color red and Merlot… oh, and you’re a much better dancer than me.”

Sharing random factoids wasn’t necessarily the foreplay she’d been expecting, nor the kind she was used to, but she couldn’t say she minded when his voice alone made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Uhmm…” She had to think of something vague; a throwaway tidbit useless to anyone else.

While he watched, waited with wide and patient eyes, she sighed, “I can’t go a day without coffee. Never quite developed a taste for tea. And I drink it with three sugars.”

He blinked twice in quick succession. All the while he had yet to stop playing with the edges of her knickers, though he gradually let one hand inch up her covered thigh, as if testing the waters. But, she wondered… what was there to test? He had been so self-assured outside this room, yet now there was a hint of nerves beneath the cool exterior.

”So dark and sweet is the way you like it, huh?” He simply couldn’t help himself, it seemed.

The smirk she donned was enough of an answer. “Tell me something about you, then.”

”Me… well.” His mouth quirked before he shifted on the bed - lying on his stomach to greet the center of hers with a kiss. Then each of her hips with a gentle nip.“I love to read. Anything I can get my hands on, really. Fiction, nonfiction, magical and otherwise… I’ll devour it all.”

A slight pinch followed by the softness of his lips alerted her to another cluster of marks he began working onto her lower stomach, covering as much ground as he could on her thighs. His breath, heating her core as it came in little pants, was beginning to become a significant problem - one made her feel warm and heavy. Like sinking into a hot bath, if it were near-boiling.

“In fact, if I had to pick my favorite place in the world, it would be sitting in front of a fire with a good book.” His fingertip ever so slightly grazed the inner curve of her thigh.

“A man of charm and intelligence…how ever did I get so fortunate?”

He chuckled at her teasing lilt, the sound tickling her sensitive skin while he began to make way for the kisses left up the length of her thigh — bunching her drawers up until his fingers just brushed the soft nest of curls at the top.

“Although right now I have to say; I’m very much enjoying this spot, as well.” The wicked man smiled up at her.

“Well, if you’re waiting for an invitation, you’ve got it.” She tried to sound casual about it all, but truth be told, she was fighting every urge to rip his underwear off and throw him onto the bed herself like some sort of madwoman.

He might make her into one before the sun rose, anyway.

She was sure of it when he began pressing tortuously chaste kisses to her other thigh, and when his fingers slid lower to deliver a gentle stroke down the center of her slit had her shuddering with anticipation.

“And how long have you been this wet, love?” His deep rasp was muffled by the fabric of her underwear.

She chuckled. “Hmm…since the moment you took me to the bar, probably.”

He sat up with a distinctly prideful grin, slipping the soft cotton undergarments down her legs, his eyes alight as he settled back between them.

She could almost see the words hanging off his lips as he gazed up at her (that sight was enough to make her hips shift needily), but for whatever reason, they weren’t cut loose. No, he busied his mouth with far more important pursuits. After pausing briefly to indulge his eyes in an appreciative sweep of her naked body, he at last found the perfect spot to make her whine (and on the first try, too) with naught but a languorous sweep of his tongue.

It wasn’t nearly enough to quell any bit of the ache driving her into inevitable madness, but he showed her mercy by flattening the wet muscle against her folds and following a slow trail up until the tip of it lightly flicked her clit.

“Oh, please do that again.” She pleaded (had she been reduced to begging so quickly?), one hand inching towards her breast — seeking any more stimulation she could find — as the other slid through the silken waves atop his head.

He obliged. But with more pressure this time, and so, so slow, observing her reaction as if she were the most scintillating thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It really was something about those eyes. With such unfairly long lashes that fanned over russet cheeks, and the way the candlelight flickering off the walls would touch them just so to light the near-black irises with a rich gold. His lips stretched against her skin, noticing her attention and giving her an approving hum that was met by the push of her hips towards his tongue.

“Mmmph —“ he grunted when her thighs pressed to his ears, entrapping him between them greedily. “Like that, do you?”

Her answering moan earned another grin followed by a gentle suck on her clit that only brought out another breathy, low sound.

“But gods, you taste so sweet…decadent, just as I’d said.”

Merlin, his voice…the way it rumbled with barely contained desire and pulled obscenities from her own throat was sinful.

Drowning in sin didn’t seem such a bad way to go, at present.

The possibility became reality once he re-added a finger to the mix; curling it beneath his tongue to trace the folds before sinking gradually into her awaiting heat.

“Oh, f—“

One of her own fingers rolled her nipple atop the breast she’d been playing with as she shivered. If he kept this up much longer, she would surely come undone right on his tongue; wrapped around that rough digit gliding in and out of her as it stroked her upper walls.

But that didn’t feel right. As wonderful as the softness of his lips enclosing around her clit was, she couldn’t imagine a proper substitute for the stretch his cock would provide instead.

“I need…” she had been about to voice her request when the tip of his tongue prodded her entrance. Both of her hands now gripped his auburn waves like they were keeping her tethered to earth, legs trembling with the effort to fight off the warmth swelling in her core.

“Need what?” He took an eager breath in, only to release it through pursed lips over the throbbing bud he seemed to adore. “I want to hear it loud and clear, lovely.”

An impatient groan parted her bitten lips. “I need more. I need you inside me when you make me come.”

“There you go. Gods, you sound so pretty when you ask to be fucked…” It took one last excruciating pump of his finger inside of her before he withdrew to push himself up onto his knees with a mess of her own making shining on his clean-shaven chin.

“First, though…” The finger coated with her fluids was sucked between his reddened lips. When it was pulled out with a slick, slow draw, he crooked it in her direction. “Come here. I want you to get a little taste, too.”

Don’t mind if I do.

On trembling hands she raised herself up on wobbly knees pressed into the soft mattress, sucking in a breath when she curled her fingers over the band of his underwear and waited for approval.

“Don’t be shy.” He coaxed gently.

It was difficult not to be at least a little intimidated by the proud shape outlined through his bottoms (and leaving a very telltale wet spot in the light fabric), but she pushed past it with a firm swallow.

Her breath whooshed out without prompting as she rolled them over his hips and the rather shapely swell of his backside. And, as it had before taking a sip of the wine he’d offered earlier, her mouth watered when she was rewarded with the view of his cock as it twitched at the first rush of air over the leaking tip.

Personally, she wasn’t much of an artist. She preferred a wand to a brush and blood over red paint, but there was something about him that begged to be immortalized on canvas. How satisfying it would be to perfectly capture the artful tapering from wide shoulders to a slimmer waist, or even to carve from marble the thickness of his thighs.

She doubted it would do him justice.

“Are you going to paint a portrait?” He teased, as if ripping those very thoughts from her mind.

“Just might. And could you blame me?” She answered with a bite of her lip. But there was too much bloody talk going on. In the spirit of action, she lowered her mouth to meet the curve of his hipbone and began marking a wet trail downwards.

The light scrape of his fingernail over her cheekbone made her lashes flutter as he tucked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear, his breathing growing more labored when her palm slipped over the softness of his length — only to fold her fingers around it with gentle pressure. By the time she brushed her lips over the head — then her tongue to collect the salty fluid now leaking down the shaft — he was keening under his breath.

“Mmhmm…keep going, please.” he murmured.

As if she would stop. On the contrary, she wrapped her mouth around him, making a circle around the ridge of his cockhead with the tip of her tongue only to trace the length of him by following a thick vein. He was thick — stretching her lips wide when she took him in inch by inch, allowing him to prod the back of her throat to moisten her mouth.

“Just like that. You’re doing brilliantly, love; just perfect.” He said breathlessly, scraping her hair back into a haphazard updo with a broad hand.

Spurred on by the praise, she hollowed her cheeks for a better seal, dragged her mouth along his shaft until he rewarded her with a broken, guttural moan. She kept it up until finding a rhythm that his hips desperately pushed forward to match.

“I won’t… fuck, you’re going to make me embarrass myself…” he chuckled weakly.

Well that wouldn’t do at all. As much as the idea of swallowing his seed enticed her, there was a far better option in her mind. Which is why, despite his immediate protest in the form of a low grunt and a harsh tug on her hair, she gave one last slow lick before pulling away.

The increasingly flustered wizard tracked her movements with lust-glazed eyes. “I was hoping to drag this out, but I think you’re proper ready for me, aren’t you?”

Her enthusiastic nod spurred a laugh as he unfolded her legs from beneath her, wasting no time in hooking one around his hips and propping the other up to rest on his shoulder. The view was… magnificent, and he seemed to agree as his tongue darted out to taste her essence on his lips.

She’d expected another round of teasing. How relieved she was when instead, the blunt head of his cock parted her readily, sweeping through the slickness there with a stuttered, needy groan.

And just when she was about to insist —

A gasp tore through her dry throat as he pushed himself inside of her with little resistance. She was suddenly so full; though it wasn’t until he was fully sheathed that she let out a long, breathy sigh.

“Good? You alright?” He murmured, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of her thighs. When she nodded, his mouth curled into a smile that she felt amidst the kisses left along her calf.

Oh, it was more than good — by the time he dragged his length out just to drive himself forward again, she was positively keening for more; her hands blindly reaching for some part to grab and managing to splay them flat on his lower back to force him deeper. He could hardly fight her, and it seemed like he didn’t want to anyway. The wizard’s eyes had grown hooded with lust, those sumptuous lips parting to make way for a moan that sent a shock down her spine. Her own eyes fluttered shut as he began to glide in and out of her in languid, practiced thrusts.

“Mm mmm,” he hummed chastingly. “I’d like to see those pretty eyes.”

His boldness — so wildly sexy.

Looking at him was almost a taboo in itself. Nine times out of then, her trysts had involved a lot of pleasure-filled sounds and heavy breathing; but conversation? Not so much. Some people didn’t even like to be kissed — and others found a prolonged gaze entirely too intimate.

This man didn’t just fuck. It was a different experience altogether, and it was bloody incredible. So, like the hopelessly besotted witch she was, she met his gaze and responded with a wanton moan at the sight of his head thrown back in pleasure while his hips made wide circles against hers.

“Gods, you fit like a glove,” his body shuddered with a stuttered exhale. “Feel so good…”

She canted her hips up to meet his in protest of his lazy pace, earning a broken chuckle before being rewarded with the head of his cock roughly probing her to its absolute limit.

“Godric…” she whined pathetically. “Again — right there.”

“Is Godric Gryffindor the one providing your pleasure right now?” He mocked. “No, I don’t think so.”

”Well, then tell me your name, and I’ll scream it as much as you want.”

Locks of mussed hair fell over his forehead as the man shook his head, ignoring her small pout, but soothing the disappointment by giving her something else she’d wanted.

Again, he speared himself nice and deep. And again; and again, until her nails were carving crescents into the muscle of his back and he was whispering streams of filth into her ears between husky groans. Just when she was about to warn him of her rapidly approaching release, he had to go and stop — worst of all, he dragged his length out of her.

“You must be joking,” she panted.

A wicked grin told her she was in for it, and her thighs squeezed together in anticipation as he twirled his finger midair. “Oh, we’re not done. Sit up for me, love, and turn around. That’s it… now put your hands on the headboard.”

When her fingers curled around the solid chunk of wood, the bed dipped and creaked as he came up behind her, chest to spine and fingers curling over hers.

“Make sure you’re holding on tight.” Without warning, he ripped a sharp cry from her throat by driving back into her lonely heat until his hip bones dug into her ass and she swore she could see the night sky in that very room.

“Buggering hell —“ she blurted. This new angle was sure to be the end of her, and he was well aware of it from the delighted chuckle he huffed in her ear.

”You’ve got such a mouth on you for a lady… damned if I don’t love it.” The wizard panted with pride.

He wasn’t taking it easy on her any longer. The sheer force of his thrusts was enough to rock the bed frame against the wall; the thuds as the headboard struck exposed brick likely heard by everyone in the surrounding rooms (not that she had any room to care in her sex addled brain). It was enough to wring every last coherent thought from her, rendering her a shaking, mewling mess and unable to do anything but meet each snap of his hips with her own — while holding on for dear life.

“Oh, yes…” he was on his way to leaving bruises on her hip from the force of his steadying grip, but the sparks of pain only led her to greater pleasure.

Well-attuned to the signs of her mounting release as it threatened to overwhelm her for the third time, he released her hand to reach around and find her clit, abandoning the precision and prowess from before. Those dexterous fingers worked tirelessly, and coupled with the uneven little pants warming her neck between his kisses…

“I know you’re close, love,” he shuddered. “Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

He threw every last bit of his energy into shoving her over the edge; and as his cock prodded that spot inside of her once more, she gave in and fell apart under his hands. Every unbridled, broken sound that tumbled out as she rode through her orgasm was met with an encouraging whimper from the wizard. Just when the last bit of pleasure was wrung from her body, he pulled out with a groan, releasing ropes of warm seed over her backside and spine.

There he rested for a moment. While he caught his breath, the man’s hands traced the shape of her body, slipping in the essence coating her with a proud chuckle. “Evanesco.” he murmured, restoring her skin to its unmarred state.

“Are you…” he gulped in a lungful of sex-scented air. “Are you alright?”

“Brilliant.” She panted, letting go of the headboard to turn and rest her back against it instead. “You?”

It was an understatement, really: all that stress pounding between her temples and tension in her shoulders had disappeared. She felt spectacular.

“Never better.”

He sank back to his knees, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he admired her with a lazy grin. How she wished she could peel the satin from his cheeks to see that smile reach his dark eyes…

“Only wanted to make sure. You were getting quite loud.” The question seemed more taunt than anything.

Walking might prove difficult for the next couple of hours (at the least), and her hair was likely in a right state (along with her marked-up skin), but none of that mattered when the lingering rush instilled her with a rare lightness.

“Is that a complaint?”

“Not at all. I was very much enjoying the sounds you made. Means I did my job well.”

She gave him a playful eye roll, rolling onto her side with the intention of returning to the solace of his arms before she realized — pillow talk and cuddling were sort of an unspoken faux pas when it came to casual encounters. Usually, her or her partners would leave the bed before the sweat had dried on their skin, and for once the expectation felt…lonely.

It truly struck her when he cleared his throat a moment later, gingerly untangling their weakened limbs to climb out of the bed seeking the various items of clothing discarded across the room.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyes darting to her before he located his pants. “Water, food..? Anything.”

Though appreciative, she waved his offer away with a quiet laugh. “I’ll be just fine. Though I’m sure I’ll need a hot bath at home.”

Sitting idly in bed while he already had a foot out the door picked at her pride, and so the Auror dragged herself out of it on trembling fawn’s legs. She managed to locate her underthings and slip them on before plucking her gown up from the floor.

“Oh,” a flash of gold caught her eye, and she bent to retrieve his trousers — as well as the shiny pocket watch that had evidently fallen out while they were distracted earlier. “Here, you don’t want to lose this.”

He was dragging his shirt over his bed head when she walked over to return it. She couldn’t help but admire the piece’s subtle artistry; the metal so perfectly preserved with intricate curling ivy etched into the rim of the case. Such a unique design…

So unique that she could easily recall seeing one just like it before.

And it, too, had been monogrammed with the letter S.

If he hadn’t snatched the watch out of her hand before the shock hit, she might have dropped and broken one of the last artifacts of the Sallow family.

Merlin, the irony of her asking for his name to say it in bed when she wanted to scream it in outrage now. And of course he had the audacity to take a step towards her, to soften his wide brown eyes (how had she looked into them and not known) and adopt an innocent frown; the one he had always used before begging for forgiveness.

She took a step back in turn and fixed him with a look that could have frozen the fire in the hearth. It was enough to confirm for him exactly what conclusion she’d reached.

“Blast it all, it is you.” He breathed.

“Sebastian?”

#the fear that just struck me #running away now #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #writing

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kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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BTS fic recs: my 30th birthday special

Shit. I’m turning 30 today (I still feel like I’m 18 lol) 😯 So I wanted to make this special recommendation list for you, as a birthday present from me 💜 This includes some of my all time favorites (no, I’ll never stop screaming about those!!!!) and also, some good old ones that I’ve never gotten around to rec at the time.

I also have another birthday present for you (wish is also why I didn’t finish my reading list and why ‘Friendcation’ is on pause until after my birthday). I wrote a short one-shot, so if you’re in the mood for that, check it out → ‘Say that Again (I Dare You)’ [reader x jjk (ft. pjm)].

I actually didn’t get to finish my reading list for this special rec list, so I’ll add the rest of my recommendations as I read them (I’ll specify which I haven’t re-read yet) and the rest will be posted to this month’s regular rec list.

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (💜) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.

Namjoon

⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵

📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍

⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹

Yoongi

⭐Roommates by @automnesleaves [AO3] [119K] // myg x f.reader // roommates!au, covid!au, slice of life // 😂🥰🌩️

📝 February 2020: Your best friend Jimin’s roommate recommendation, IT guy Yoongi Min, moves in with you. March 2020: Covid Lockdown.

🗨️ This is really, really good! I remember being so hooked on this, that I stayed up multiple nights to finish chapters. It was hard to put down, and so interesting to read how readers luck slowly turned – also, the dynamic between reader and Yoongi is great and there’s just so much lovely slice of life in it 💜

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] by @kithtaehyung // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ Yes. This is here again. It is one of my all-time favorites and I will not stop screaming about how fucking good this is! You just have to join the 3tan party or you are severely missing out, Doll. 💖✨

⭐Oh, darling! [series; completed] by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 This is just one of my favorites series, EVER 💜 This is in my top 10, no questions! ✨

Hoseok

⭐Fate Doesn’t Exist by @whenIseeUsmile [AO3] [47K] // jhs x myg (mxm) // pilot!au, formula1!au // 😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi is a pilot. Hoseok is a Formula 1 driver. Jungkook's a fanboy and Jimin is oblivious.

Yoongi hates people but likes one-night-stands. One in particular but he doesn't like the fact that he's famous. He really shouldn't get involved with Hoseok. He does it anyways.

🗨️ I’ve read this multiple times! And it will forever be one of my favorites! I just love how their personality compliments each other, and how they keep meeting each other (also can’t stay away from each other). Plus, the side couples, both Jungkook x Jimin and Namjoon x Seokjin are just fucking hilarious – everything about this is golden, so if you’re into mxm it’s a really good read! 👏

⭐Flight 18 by @noona-la-la-la [9.5K] // jhs x f. reader // flight!au, idol!au // 🥵😂

📝 Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

🗨️ This was just really really amazing; utterly funny (like I was laughing at certain points), so much sexual tension that evolves into satisfying smut 😗

Jimin

⭐The Airport Couple: P[ass]anger from Hell + Drabble by @dovechim & @jimlingss [8K] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, frequent traveler jimin x tsa agent reader // 😂😂😂🥰

📝 As a TSA agent, you expect your job to be relatively easy, most passengers these days follow the rules to the T in order to avoid prolonging their custom checks. But not a certain Park Jimin, who seems to have a problem understanding what 100ml is, or the very simple fact that gadgets must be taken out of the bag, and bomb jokes are strictly off limits. Frequent traveller Park Jimin is your nemesis, but darn is he a cute one.

🗨️ This is just so fucking hilarious, don’t get me started. I laughed from beginning to end 😂 And it’s still as good as I remember, if not even better??? Like ✨ I’ve highlighted a few of my favorite parts from the fic. I don’t want to give too much away, but these lines are just so damn hilarious! Please go read it, it’s one of my faves 💯

⭐The Airport Couple: Park Jimin’s Cock[pit] by @jimlingss & @dovechim [12K] // pjm x f.reader // pilot!au, bf2l, coworkers!au // 😂🥰🥵

📝 Talk about Angry Birds, and most people would immediately think of the mobile game app. But within your circle of friends, it stands for something else. It’s synonymous with Park Jimin, one of the most talented pilots from your batch who also just happens to have anger issues, or in other words, air rage. He is your best friend, but when you get teamed up with him as his co-pilot, you can only pray that things don’t go south… literally.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago, and I loved it then and I still do ✨ It is incredibly funny, has good banter and dialogue to match. The chemistry between reader and Jimin is just priceless, their friendship is just pure giggles 🥹 It’s also fluffy and will tug on your heartstrings in the best way possible. Just really, really good and definitely also one of my all-time favorites 💯💜

⭐Since We Met by @inkjam-moon [9.2K] // pjm x f.reader // roommate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Your in love with your roommate, so you think maybe trying to date someone else will help you get over him, but when your roommate shows signs of jealousy, you begin to wonder; could he like you back?

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Turbulence by @yminie [9.3K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 On your first flight the cute boy next to you helps to sooth your nerves, and on the second flight he soothes something else.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Accelerate by @yminie [8.9K] // pjm x f.reader // flight!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Jimin comes to retrieve his jacket on the condition that you then accompany him for dinner, and you can bet he satiates every hunger.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Beneath the Water by @jungshookz // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Make Me by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

Jungkook

⭐The Wedding Planners by @gukyi [28K] // jjk x f.reader // e2l, wedding!au // 😂🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.

🗨️ I also remember reading this a few years ago and it was just a very funny and pleasant reread 💜 What I love about this is one, is definitely the slow-burn and the enemies to lovers aspect too. The banter between reader and Jungkook is just so priceless and reading how their relationship slowly unfolds and develops through the months of the wedding planning was just everything 💯 Hoseok and Yoongi’s personality in this also makes this fic truly amazing.

⭐Secret Slut (1) by @jeonsweetpea [7.7K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. pjm) // office!au, pa!jungkook x ceo!reader // 😂🌩️🥵

📝 Jungkook accidentally gifts you, his boss, a sex toy for Secret Santa.

🗨️ I remember reading this a few years ago and now I see that there’s even a part two to it, that I haven’t read! This one is really funny, like straight up hilarious – really made me laugh at times and then it got so freaking smutty 🥵 Really good!

⭐Secret Slut (2) by @jeonsweetpea [18.1K] // jjk x f.reader + pjm x f. reader // office!au, pa!jungkook, pa!jimin, ceo!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 After being fired, Jungkook finds himself a new job only to realize he misses you too much. He comes back to discover you’ve hired a new personal assistant, Jimin. You offer him the only job position available, which was being the assistant’s assistant. Being demoted results in Jungkook feeling inadequate and he soon learns what it means to be jealous.

🗨️ I was so speechless after reading the last part of the series, like 🥵🥵🥵🥵 There’s so much smut in this, you’re like swimming in it, lol! And then something happens, that I won’t spoil because I actually didn’t expect that to happen (even though I should have seen it coming, because the build-up was there). So, a really good read!

⭐Departure by @nomnomsik [6.2K] // jjk x f.reader (ft. jimin) // pilot!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰

📝 As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐Something Like Love by @iamtaekooked [8.4K] // jjk x f.reader // cop!au, police office!au // 🥰

📝 It was meant to be a regular day at the hospital. That is until you get kidnapped in broad daylight. Meanwhile, the famous detective Jeon Jeongguk who also happens to be your best friend, just wanted a normal day free of world’s bullshit, but he couldn’t even have that.

🗨️ I haven’t re-read this yet – but I remember I loved it 💜(I’ll insert my rec here when I have read it again).

⭐The Forgotten Spaces [completed series] by @oddinary4bts // jjk x reader // college!au, dancer!au + e2l // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 you’ve been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

🗨️ This is truly a masterpiece! The writing is perfect and the characters have so much soul, dimension, hurt and love. It is exceptional 👏🏾♥️ you just have to read this gem 💎

⭐Two point Five (2.5): pt2 + pt3 [series] by @bratkook // jjk x f.reader // handyman!jk, s2f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

🗨️ This is also one of my all time favorites! 💎There is just something incredibly hot about handyman JK 🥵 It is so good, juicy, smutty and there's comedy in it too! Please don’t be sleeping on this one.

Okay, okay, okay. So the list got out of hand! And I know I say “this is in my top 10” but I can’t even pick my top 10 because I have waaaay too many favorites 😂

I hope you have an awesome day, are happy and stay healthy! I’ll go and enjoy my birthday with a chill day, birthday dinner with my family, probably some reading and watching the finale of Loki 🥳 🎂 Thank you so much for liking, commenting or reblogging my rec lists, it means a lot to me – remember to reblog, comment and/or like the fics you like on the list to the the lovely authors know you love their stuff 💜

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maybege · 4 months ago

Text

Welcome Home

Summary: Your favourite time of day is when Paz comes home.

Pairing: roommate!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Free Use Arrangement AU, Roommate AU, explicit sexual content, oral (f and m receiving), (un)requited pining, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, size kink, lil bit of cockwarming, dirty talk and a little bit of verbal humiliation

Long time, no see when it comes to this AU! I love how I said I would only write little blurbs for them and now this is the second piece over 3k 😂 Anyway, I hope you all had a nice weekend! Let me know what you think of this story in a reblog or a comment, they are truly the best fuel to keep writing 🥰

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Asking your roommate for a free-use arrangement was the bravest and best thing you had ever done.

Watching Paz Vizsla getting more and more confident as a dominant, however, was the most beautiful thing you ever got to witness. And you never wanted to share with anyone. Because while you had suspected (known, really) that he was a natural dominant when you first met, he always made it a point to be careful with you.

And he truly. He was so careful, so gentle and made sure you felt safe, happy and satisfied before he tried new things. Even then, said new things were introduced slowly and with care. And every time he did you felt like you were falling in lust a little bit more.

“There is something very peaceful about not having to worry about how someone fucks you because you know they do it right,” your friend Chants had once said about one of his situationships. Now, years later, you finally understood what he meant.

Because Paz Vizsla, your roommate, your friend, the man of your dreams (and also your heart but it would take time for you to admit that out loud) fucked you so good that you could trust him to fuck you any time he wanted.

Like now, weeks after your initial conversation, when you were standing in the kitchen making dinner.

Paz always came home after you and though you usually made your own meals, sometimes you cooked for each other. This was your plan today, too. You wanted to spend as little time as possible on chores and as much time as possible … together.

Wearing only a very long shirt and lace panties, paired with the fuzzy socks to keep your feet from freezing on the tiled floor, you were jamming to the newest hits on the charts when you could hear the front door open.

It did not take long before two warm hands landed on your upper thighs, a large body hovering behind you. His stubble ghosted over your neck and you tilted your head to the side, allowing his chin to rest on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you asked breathlessly, watching as his hands moved to the front of your thighs, pulling you back against him. His body was large and warm. Even the cool fall air caught on his clothes did nothing against the simmering heat that started in your belly.

“Just saying hello,” he murmured, his hands bunching up your shirt. His lips landed on the spot where your shoulder met your neck and you hummed. “Turn the stove off,” he ordered and you did without questioning him. The sauce was almost done anyway.

His mouth never left your neck as he dragged you away from the counters. “How was your day?” he asked you, turning you around so you were facing him, “Did the presentation go well?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, your brain fuzzy from his soft kisses, the blinding grin on his face and his rough hands on your thighs. He crowded you against the table and you could hear the newspapers fall to the floor before he pushed you on the flat wooden surface.

“Paz,” you giggled, your hands buried in the soft hairs at the back of his neck, “What are you doing?”

You squirmed when you finally came face to face, his large body hovering above yours. He had not shaved in a while and looked like a lumberjack in his flannel shirt and the black one underneath it. His breath washed over your face and your finger brushed over the crinkles next to his eyes.

“I’m eating you out, what does it look like?” he grinned, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his mouth started wandering down down down.

“Paz,” you whined, your back arching off the back, “Paz, I need you.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he teased you, looking up from where his fingers were circling your nipples over the fabric of your shirt. “Let me play with you.”

And playing with you was what he did. He mouthed at your tits through your shirt before gathering it up, his hands gliding over your thighs and belly before finally landing on your chest. You were already dripping wet before his fingers pinched your nipples, p

His mouth closed around your right nipple and when his tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, your hands flew to his head, trying to keep him there or get him to where you needed him most, you were not sure.

“You're so good for me,” he murmured against your sternum, “Such a pretty little slut just for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, spreading your legs for him. The chair scraped over the tiles as he sat down on the kitchen chair and you squeaked when his hands gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge.

“Yes, what?” he rumbled, his dark eyes fixated on where his thumbs dipped into the crease between your legs. The contact made you shudder in the best way and you bit your lips, trying not to come from just the barest touches.

“Yes, I am your pretty little slut,” you repeated his words, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks as you stared at the stained kitchen ceiling.

“Lift,” he tapped your butt, his fingers digging into the soft dips of your hips and you did, letting him pull the lacy underwear down your legs. You could hear the flimsy fabric land somewhere on the floor to your right but you could not care less when you had this dream of a man between your legs.

“Spread for me,” he instructed, his voice gruff, “Let me see you.”

You could not remember an instance where a man had wanted to look at you like that and, just for a moment, you found yourself a little shy.

“Nuh-uh”, he commented your hesitation, “None of that. Let me see that pussy, sweetheart. It’s mine to play with, isn’t it?”

His words sparked heat into your core and you nodded, spreading your legs wider apart. As if to reward you, his fingers swiped through your wet folds, circling your clit until a trembling gasp left your mouth.

“Yeah, it is,” he murmured as if to himself, his thumbs spreading you wide apart. The feeling of his hot breath on your pussy made you had you like putty in his hands.

“Paz, please …”

“No begging, sweetheart,” he chastised you with a grin, “Let me enjoy, hm?”

Before you could answer (or, let's be real, beg) his mouth closed over your clit and sucked. Your eyes rolled back and you did not know what to do with your hands. Your right one gripped the edge of the table while the other found Paz’s back of the head, your fingers burying in the soft dark curls on his head.

His hands splayed on your hips, pulling you into his mouth as his tongue dipped into your folds. Everything he did, and soon, you were on the precipice of something great, something wonderful, something –

“Paz!” you gasped, your hands tightening and your back arching, “Right there, oh! P-please -!”

He hummed against you, the vibrations doing something delicious to your clit and then his finger joined, steadily brushing over your opening just the way you liked, and you were free-falling, unable to do anything but chant his name over and over again.

Paz did not let up, though he did slow down a little, pressing soft kisses to your cunt and inner thighs until you felt like you could breathe again.

“Wow,” you breathed, your chest heaving as you started at the ceiling, “That was … “

“I know,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your inner thigh before slipping your legs off his shoulders, “Got you all come drunk already, huh?”

You wanted to have a witty comeback to that, you really did. But Paz was rising to his full height now, standing between your legs fully clothed while your shirt was still bunched up above your tits and he looked glorious like that.

Inevitably, your gaze drifted lower to where he was straining against his jeans. You watched with a racing heart as his hand rubbed over the bulge and if your legs weren’t still trembling from your orgasm, you would have dropped to your knees and begged him to take him into your mouth.

But even without words, Paz seemed to get you.

“Not today, love,” he murmured, the nickname sending a thrill through you, “I’m gonna have you suck my cock another time.”

“Thank the stars,” you breathed out a laugh, “I might have fallen asleep with your cock in my mouth.”

Your laugh dissipated at the intense look in his eyes. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he hummed, leaning closer against you as his hands caressed the side of your legs.

You tried to ignore the thrum of pleasure the suggestion caught in you, still in awe at the deep dark fantasies he awakened in you. Paz looked very satisfied, very cocky and it didn’t help that your legs were still shaking and his fingers tapped under your chin, making you look up at him. “Good girl,” he praised you with soft eyes and kissed you, long and slow.

Leaning your body weight against him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his tongue against yours, the stubble rubbing over your chin. Kissing Paz was everything you had ever fantasised it to be and more.

Which also explained the pout on your lips when he pulled away from you.

“I, uh, I got something for you,” he explained, his lips swollen from your kisses. Too distracted by the sight of him, you only realised what he had said until he presented you with a little box. You recognised the logo from the jewellery store in the mall and your heart skipped a beat and then completely stopped when you saw the gold chain nestled within the black velvet.

“Paz,” you gasped, still reeling from the orgasm, and brushed over the delicate chain links, “That is beautiful.”

“I thought this could be your … the necklace, you know?”

You nodded, remembering the signal you had agreed upon to make your little arrangement easier.

“It's like a choker.”

Like a collar.

Paz seemed to know what you were thinking because he suddenly became bashful. He rubbed the back of his neck, the free hand still on your thigh, “You can – you can choose something else, if you like, of course. But I saw it in the mall at lunch and I just … knew.”

“I love it,” you hurried to say, fiddling to get the necklace out of the box, “Can you put it on?”

His body got closer as he leaned to look behind you. Thick fingers brushed over your neck as he closed the tiny clasp of the delicate metal. It lay perfectly at the base of your neck, golden and frail, perfect for everyday wear. And yet, it made you feel sex. Wanted. Pretty.

“Thank you,” your fingers ran over the delicate band, “I love it, Paz, truly.”

“And remember –“ he started.

“I can always take it off whenever I want to,” you finished the sentence for him, a knowing smile on your lips. He wore the matching one, his hand gently closing around your throat as he kissed you again.

And just like the choker, something in your heart locked into place.

As time went on, you could sense how he grew more confident and self-assured in your new arrangement and you, in turn, felt like you could finally breathe. You wore the choker day and night – a circumstance that neither of you commented on but you were sure he noticed.

It wasn’t that you felt like you had to. You knew that Paz would always respect your choices. But when you had first thought about taking it off, it just had not felt right. You liked the arrangement you had. You thrived in it.

You thrived in coming home and being dragged into his bed or him coming home and coming straight to you. That must be your favourite part, really. Him coming home and using you any which way he liked. Both of you ending up on the couch afterwards, talking about how your respective days had been.

It was like that today. It had been raining and you had used your day off to curl up on the couch and read one of the books on your tbr list. Slow music was playing in the background and you were pondering whether to light up one of the scented candles your colleagues had gotten you for one of your birthdays when you noticed the time.

Paz was usually home by now and even though you were not his girlfriend (which was totally absolutely perfectly fine with you, of course), you grew worried when the hours passed, the sky grew darker and no Paz showed up.

You were way too eager when you finally heard the key in the lock. Sitting up from your place on the couch, your book completely forgotten, you felt bad when you saw the grimace on his face.

His steps were heavy and raindrops gathered at the tips of his curls. Piece after piece of clothing came off until he was working on his belt and you knew what was about to happen.

“Come here,” he instructed calmly, his eyes fixated on your necklace want you to suck my cock, okay?”

With a quick nod, you set your book aside and walked over to where he sat down in the armchair. The image of his big hands getting rid of his belt and freeing his cock, paired with his stoic silence had your thighs clenching. He was already half-hard and you could not wait to get your mouth on him. How could

He spread his legs so you could scoot in between them and you did, dropping to your knees on the beige carpet. “Welcome home,” you whispered before giving him a careful lick.

“Stars, that’s just what I needed,” he sighed, his hand cupping your cheek, “that pretty little mouth on my cock. You’re doing so well for me, aren’t you?”

You slipped your mouth on his shaft and hummed around him in agreement. He was growing in size and your jaw already started to ache as you tried to push him to the back of your throat as far as you could take him. Which wasn’t very far, to be honest.

Wriggling your tongue under his head, you pulled off him until only his tips remained. He was heavy and hot and your hands found their way to his thighs, trying to steady yourself as you sucked on him. The taste of his precoma was salty on your taste buds and you pushed forward again, your brows drawing together in a frown when your throat closed up again.

“I know I’m very big, sweetheart,” Paz cooed, leaning forward. His hand wandered to the back of your head and you felt surrounded by him in the best way, “Can you try to take me a little deeper? Can I try to fuck your mouth?”

One of his rules was verbal consent and so you pulled off him again, taking in deep breaths before you managed a happy, “Yes.” You smoothed your cheek against his thick thigh, remembering the time he had you get him off by just sucking on his balls, “Please fuck my mouth, Paz.”

Paz did not smile but he looked relieved. Relaxation took over his expression as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders and that was even more of a reward than feeling him come on your tongue.

“You are perfect,” he praised as he gave himself a few pumps, “When I am too deep you are going to tap my thigh three times, alright, sweetheart? Just like we practiced.”

You nodded eagerly, demonstrating how you had done it before by tapping his inner thigh three times. He hummed in approval before cupping your face. You straightened your posture, the long shirt dropping over your ass as you leaned forward just as he pushed his cock inside you.

His thrusts were deep and strong and tears sprang into your eyes as you relaxed your throat as far as it would go. Neither of you broke eye contact and there was something so sexy about seeing him in merciless control, making use of your throat as much as you would let him.

“One day I'm gonna see how deep I can go,” he groaned as you choked on him, “Have your head hanging off the edge of my bed, see if we can make that pretty throat bulge, make that choker stretch, hm?”

He continued thrusting, the sounds of your gagging seemingly only encouraging him and making you wetter than before. You must have looked like a mess by the time he pulled out of you.

“Want to come on your face,” he announced and your hand wrapped around his shaft immediately. He was slick with your saliva as you jerked him off and not for the first time did you wonder how you had managed to fit him inside your mouth at all.

A rough hand wrapped around yours, squeezing it tighter and soon, Paz jerked himself off with your hand. The sounds were filthy and forbidden and all you could think was that you had never seen anything hotter than Paz completely out of control.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” he warned you, his voice hoarse, and you opened your mouth in anticipation. Your eyes stayed on him, but the contact broke when he threw his head back. He looked completely undone and the knowledge that you did that, you made him lose control, put a smile on your face.

Ropes of come splatted onto your face and neck and you pushed out your tongue, trying to catch a taste of him. His hand made you milk him of all he was worth and with the tears across your cheeks, the drool dripping down your chin and now the come over your face and chest, you felt deliciously filthy.

“Pretty as a picture,” he mumbled when his movements let up, his chest still heaving. He must have had a meeting, you realised when you spotted his unusual-for-him getup. He was wearing black slacks instead of jeans and a white dress shirt with the first few buttons undone. He looked all proper and put together if it weren’t for his softening cock in his (and your) hand. And you just sat here in your lounge shirt, splattered in come and lips swollen from sucking his cock.

“Why don’t you take a picture then?” you asked, cheeks flushing with the idea of him actually doing that. Why did the thought of Paz putting you, covered in his come, as his phone background make your heart skip a beat?

“No need,” he winked, “If I want to see you like this I'm just going to have you suck my cock again.”

You gasped in shock while he laughed, tucking away his cock which almost made you pout.

“You good, babe?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled still flustered at how cocky he was with no effort at all. Yet there you were, flustered, needy, out of breath and happier than you had ever been, trying to seem like his proximity did not make you think of futures, houses, barbeques in a garden and cuddles, “I was thinking of ordering pizza today?”

Paz nodded, getting up. You were still kneeling on the floor, finding yourself mesmerised by his size, your gaze following him up, up, up and up until you met his eyes. Maybe you were still somewhere off in subspace, in that little niche in your head where you were not quite ready to let go of this moment between the two of you, where you were not quite ready to … return to everyday life.

With one look at you, Paz must have come to the same conclusion because he knelt in front of you with a soft handkerchief, gently cleaning you off, and you found yourself leaning into him.

“How about,” he cupped your clean face and pressed a kiss slow to your jaw, “Ordering pizza and a movie? We can cuddle and if you want to we can try that thing you’ve been pretending to google secretly?”

Your eyes widened with surprise – not at being caught, it was only a matter of time, after all, but at the enthusiasm and confidence with which he suggested it. “Cock warming?”

The grin he replied with made his entire face light up. “Yes,” he confirmed, his tongue licking over his lower lip, “And if you’re real good I might even let you come.”

Before you could reply, he pulled you in for another kiss that had you both tumbling to the floor. You shrieked with laughter, loving the way his hands already dipped under your shirt, and how your legs fell over his hips.

This type of homecoming was way better than what you had before.

#paz vizsla x reader #maybege writes #smut #paz vizsla x fem!reader #roommate!paz vibes

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

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book 7 part 3 thoughts!!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7, PART 3 OF THE MAIN STORY AND MALLEUS’S DORM UNIFORM VIGNETTES.***

If you’d like to watch a rough part-by-part summarized translation, please check out this archived stream!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

LOL???? We start this part in Ignihyde 😂 with Idia getting a phone call from (OG/grown-up) Ortho??? Ortho says he’s enrolled at RSA and it’s Idia’s first year as a dorm leader????? What sorcery is this???? I-Is this Ortho’s dream…? Or is it Idia’s dream???

cnn kdveienskebe Okay, it’s Idia’s dream??? Oh gosh, he pictures Ortho as being the kind of heroic and kind-hearted person who would attend RSA if he were still alive… 😭

NOT THAT IMPORTANT but Idia games with Lilia and it’s cute :>

Idia is happy to go along with the call but then notices weird little discrepancies like how NRC’s opening ceremonies are at night (but Ortho called him during the day and Ortho is excited about NRC even though he himself is going to RSA)? He feels like something bad is going to happen…

AND SUDDENLY A WILD MALLEUS GREETS HIM???? Wow, he finally got invited— Gao-Gao Dragon-kun returns as a motif throughout episode 7, Idia seems super hype about it. Interestingly, it looks like Gap-Gao has evolved into a full-fledged dragon when Malleus shows it to Idia 🥺 The set-up is very similar to Idia’s + Ortho’s ceremonial robes stories, but in the original vignettes, Idia meets Malleus on the way to the ceremony and gets too scared, so Idia heads back to his dorm.

OMINOUS??????? Malleus is all like, “Gao-Gao was broken many tomes, but I fixed it and I intend to keep it this way for a long time”. This, of course, is him actually talking about what he’s done to prevent everyone from leaving him :)))

OMG WILD LILIA TOO

Entrance ceremony~ The characters repeat the exact same lines spoken during the prologue!! Deja vu~ Cool little easter egg there, this really is a redux but with nothing bad happening and Malleus actually invited and Idia physically present instead of just being a tablet— Something else weird is that Yuu and Grim don’t seem to be at the ceremony.

RSA is confirmed to have dorms and dorm leaders as well! No specific dorms are referenced though.

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something very important…” — Idia

Back to Diasomnia we go… and the expected Sleeping Beauty dream sequence from Yuu… Then Yuu wakes up to what seems to be the room Mickey described to them (from the animated short 1936 Thru the Mirror) but mirrored/flipped (the date on a calendar is written as 51), Also???? Yuu and Grim seem to remember the “real world”; they recall Malleus casting magic before they passed out. UHHHH they’re locked in the room and there are ghosts drawn on the windows. That’s weird, that’s suspicious 😳

THE FOOT STOOL (ottoman?) IS A DOG WITH A PUG FACE???? Wait… THIS IS MICKEY’S ROOM, ISN’T IT??? He literally described a foot stool thing that barks like a dog the last time he talked to Yuu.

WHAT everything is alive??? Beauty and the Beasting it… Grim eats a sketchy nut and temporarily becomes big (a la Alice in Wonderland), they mention there are mushrooms in the Queendom of Roses that have a similar effect.

OH MY GOD MEETING MICHARD REAL GONE WILD NOT CLICKBAIT

Mickey makes more Thru the Mirror references (he squirts ink at playing cards)? Then he mentions dancing about the queen (of Hearts!?) and the king getting mad about it… ordering the card soldiers to attack him. “I feel bad for the card soldiers.”

Mickey weirdly says something like. Their consciousnesses are in this place but their bodies are elsewhere. Mickey is going to help them look for their friends!! They sort of imply this is Mickey’s dream world, he starts vanishing because now it's morning... and now he is "waking" from the dream.

Blot??????????? They punch a monster thing????

HUH???? ??? ? ???? ? SILVER PULLS UP TO SAVE OUR ASSES???? 😭 We get his UM reveal as well! It's called "Meet in a Dream" (written as "Let's see the same dream") but we don't immediately get to see what it does because we cut away to the real world. The incantation for "Meet in a Dream" is roughly, "For the person/people I met before, for the person/people I will meet soon". IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING AURORA WOULD SAY WHILE WAITING FOR HER PRINCE THAT SHE DREAMED OF

Back at Diasomnia, Malleus is creepily humming over everyone sleeping...DHBFIYODSBFIOIOAF MORE IMPORTANTLY THOUGH, ORTHO'S CONSCIOUSNESS IS IN CYPERSPACE AND HE ACCESSES THE LAST MEMORIES HE HAD STORED BEFORE GETTING KNOCKED OUT (something, something... emergency protocols activated because Malleus emitted a high amount of blot)👁️ His hologram goes and tries to wake Idia up (lol I guess he did end up getting affected by Fae of Maleficence), then tries to connect to his spare bodies but their circuits are not working. He also tries playing music of Idia's favorite girl group to wake him (Idia usually wakes up and dances), but Idia still doesn't.

The time also seems to have not moved, just like during Endless Halloween Night. Wow, Malleus really decided to reject any and all change, even the passage of time...

Ortho realizes just how wide Malleus's spell has been cast (like, it seems to extend even to RSA which is on the other side of Sage's Island). That's... scary... x_x Guess no heroes are coming to save them, huh?

OMINOUS COMMENT: Ortho says that if people continue to dream like this without waking, they will miss out on food and water that their bodies need... and so they will DIE. They got like a week tops without water 🤡 and then their consciousnesses will remain forever trapped in the dream worlds????

STYX becomes relevant again! They get alerted to the blot levels on Sage's Island.

KJBLDVITUFUQFWOVYQFEOBAFIBAFI DIRECTOR SHROUD AND HiS WIFE SHOW UP???????? THEY GOT ON FULL-ON CYBERpUNK HELMETs ON TOO??? Mrs. Shroud sounds so young 😭 and she acts surprisingly cutesy???? She calls her husband “papa” and serves at STYX's technical director.

STYX forces on Sage's Island can't seem to penetrate it... UM IT SOUNDS LIKE MALLEUS'S MAGIC FIELD IS EXPANDING, STYX is going to evacuate people close to Sage's Island.

WEIRDLY, IDIA'S DAD COMMENTS THAT HE FEELS LIKE HE HAS SEEN THIS SCENE OF SPRAWLING THORNS BEFORE???? Mr. Shroud remarks that he has seen it in stories of the Thorn Witch. I-Is history… repeating itself?

Ortho gets in contact with STYX and Mrs. Shroud is soooo cute 😭 She calls him “Or-kun” and worriedly asks him about his older brother and if Ortho is hurt, etc.

So Malleus used ancient magic (regional dominion?) to control everything in that field?? Mr. Shroud says fairies in general have always historically had the magic to “change” the world/nature, like land forms and the weather.

Uhhhh so??? They that Malleus’s magic won’t ever run out because he can absorb power from the natural elements to fuel his magic??? His magic field will keep expanding… so Twisted Wonderland is pretty much fucked if they can’t stop him 💀

OH MAN Mrs. Shroud says they’re going to try and contact Briar Valley 🤡 though Grandma Shroud tried to in the past and it was difficult?

Aww, sort of sad?? Mr. Shroud implies he’s a normal person and that he’s dealing with geniuses that try to do things that he can’t.

The Briar Valley actually responded and try to help them break the barrier around Sage’s Island!! But it sounds like even they could not get past it…

Ortho transfers his consciousness to the Cerberus Gear body!! (Mrs. Shroud makes it for him!) It can last ~20 minutes inside the field. Two dogs will follow him; they have the Cerberus security system in them.

He’s the best suited for this investigation (it’s NOT meant to be a rescue, just a mission to collect info) because his existence defies nature itself; he is the culmination of human ingenuity and Malleus can’t overwrite that. Ortho promises to come back and to save his big brother, he doesn’t want the Shroud parents to lose “another son” 😢

LOL all the researchers are passed out on the floor, even Mr. Shroud was like. Sleeping under a table 😂

Not Mrs. Shroud joking about peeking at Idia’s password protected folders 💀 and not Idia leeching off of STYX’s wifi cuz he’ll die without high-speed internet to do his dailies…

Mrs. Shroud continues to be so wholesome and worried for her children, she encourages Ortho to come back if he’s scared or feels like he’s in danger. It’s so moe of her 🥺

Hmmm 🤔 the Shroud parents are definitely a lot different than what I thought they’d be?? They’re very warm and accepting of Ortho, especially Mrs. Shroud. I didn’t get that impression from book 6 and Idia’s post-OB flashback, it seemed like the Shroud parents were very hands-off and work oriented. Of the two, Mr. Shroud is definitely quieter and more stand-offish, so it seems like Idia takes after the dad and Ortho after the mom. It’s not a bad thing, I’m just surprised!! I’ll definitely keep this in mind while writing them moving forward.

Back to Mickey's world!! ... Suddenly, they're in the sky and comedically falling out of it???? They land outside of Diasomnia dorm.

HMMMMMM so Silver says that the “blot” he fought earlier is like… the darkness that appears in dreams. He has seen it many times. If the darkness catches you, it will drag you into an even deeper dream… and it seems like they fell into a new dream because Mickey woke up (so Mickey’s dream crumbled).

“Meet in a Dream” allows him to enter the dream world of people who have a bond with him. So… there is a preexisting connection Silver has with Mickey????

Silver has??? Met Mickey before in his dreams?? This confirms the story Mickey told us before of seeing a silver-haired boy. Usually the dreamer does not remember him being there, but Mickey for some reason COULD remember Silver. (When Silver himself wakes up from the dreams, he doesn’t remember them.)

bcsksbiexbkss OMG POOR LAD????? Silver has tried to wake up before by punching himself and by bashing his head against rocks (to no success).

He doesn’t 100% understand his power or dreams yet, but he describes each dream to us as its own landscape? It’s an oddly artistic way of describing it but I guess without the context of Malleus trapping them all there it calling them “landscapes” is nice!!

Silver says he somehow stumbled into Mickey’s dream while following a bird that shone with rainbow colors. Ho-Oh is that you (A bird that gives the illusion of rainbow colors… It sounds similar to the white birds Kalim borrowed in his dorm story vignettes from Silver.)

There are other stipulations to using his UM; Silver has to be sleeping AND be aware that he is dreaming in order for him to dream walk. He also can’t decide whose dreams he ends up in. Silver eerily mentions that he cannot escape from dream worlds, not unless the dreamer wakes up or the dreamer/Silver gets a large enough shock.

Silver falls through the sky to get to new dreams? He calls these transitions “dream corridors”. He describes dreams as places of memories and wishes, making up one’s greatest desires… but also meaning different things to different people.

They enter Diasomnia and IN COMES SEBEK SHOUTING AT THEM??? Apparently there's a party going on at Diasomnia to send Malleus and Lilia off for their internships. (There is a little glowing fairy thing flying around Sebek which indicates that Sebek is the dreamer. We did not previously see this light around Mickey.) Sebek rushes them to the party where everyone else is waiting!!

Oooh, we hear what Lilia’s internship might have been! He would be going into a company that specializes in making magical tools for medicine/health; his reasoning is that the Briar Valley has people who are not used to technology, and Lilia wants to be able to make their lives easier by introducing these technologies to them. Malleus’s archeological internship would be in the Land of Crimson Long.

BRUH 😭 Dream!Lilia says he will stay in their forest cottage where he raised Silver for the rest of his life, he’s not leaving.

Silver calls them out on the bullcrap, calling the situation for what it truly is. “This is just a convenient dream!” It’s fake, it’s all wrong. He shouts at on point, which is something be rarely ever does; the last time I can recall him shouting is back at the end of Endless Halloween Night.

ERRRRR (real) Malleus is monitoring all of their dream worlds, that’s 100x more creepy than anything Rook can do 💀 Malleus is justifying this by using his position as to-be king; “it’s only natural for a king to watch over his subjects”, that kind of thing. Leona would be hella pissed—

Eh? EH????? WE'RE PUNCHING SEBEK NOW (he’s protecting Malleus). And so we beat him up and Sebek finally remembers reality. (I think the implication is that by beating him up, they’re “shocking” the dreamer awake.) Sebek begrudgingly joins our party!! ✨

bhlBFYUVAIFAIAFDIL I OH NO, MALLEUS IS MAD THAT SILVER IS “AWAKE”

AYO OB MALLEUS BATTLE, HIS PHANTOM IS MALEFICENT'S DRAGON FORM, IT’S TIME TO GASLIGHT, GATEKEEP, GIRLBOSS (before revealing his OB form, he was really trying to convince us it’s not a dream when we said it was one + confused Grim with his claims, then lowkey threatened us by saying “if you keep talking, I won’t forgive you”.) That’s… scarily accurate for how real emotional manipulators act 😬

I kept being reminded of Malleus’s dorm uniform vignettes around this point in the main story. In the vignettes, Malleus teleports the dorm leaders (without consent) to Diasomnia to hold a meeting, and they become upset with him for treating them like objects. Malleus is STILL treating living beings like objects (even if he does care for them). Look at what he’s doing: he doesn’t think about what they want, he’s manipulating them again, and even earlier he implied they and Gao-Gao were the same… Broken things that have been repaired, and that he intends to keep this way forever.

Silver grabs their hands and says they’ll jump into another dream!! LOL 😂 Sebek’s being tsundere at the worst of times… “I WOULD NEVER HOLD YOUR HAND!!!” SEBEK PLEASE, NOT NOW!?????? We’RE GonNA DiE

Malleus tries to force them back under, but a sparkling light "like an aurora" compels Silver to not succumb. Silver asks his father to give him power while clutching onto the ring on a chain that Lilia imparted to him. AWWW SILVER 😭

This time they wake up in a forest and get surrounded by masked people who speak in... animal sounds??? It may be a fairy language; in Fairy Gala: If we learn that different kinds of fae communicate in different ways (for example, the diurnal fae speak in like bell chimes). Sebek seems to understand what they are saying... so maybe the language of the nocturnal fae????

AYO THE MIDDLE ONE KINDA LOOKS LIKE CROWLEY... EVEN THE EYES GLOW YELLOW LIKE HIS DO???? IS IT JUST THE MASK SHAPE???? OR WAS CROWLEY A WAR VET??????? ??????? ?? ?? ? (Side note: I think these masked NPCs are meant to resemble Maleficient's minions!)

There is also what appears to be the sound effects of canon fire??? Is this… a battleground?? The human-fairy war?????? (The masked men are soldiers that report to Lilia!)

FKJLADFIHLAFSLIHAFLIADFILETasasutvfetoqevb WHAT WHAT WHAT???!?!?!?!?!?!?!? LONG HAIR LILIA SHOWS UP IN A MASK AND SAVES THEM???? HE’S USING HIS CLEAVER TOO (this is his dream for sure now 😭)

So in Lilia’s new design, we see that there are green gems hanging off of him; these may be magical gems or the special ore he mentioned his weapon is made from (which is very rare in modern times).

If you look closely, his hair streaks are dark red instead of bright magenta. This lines up with one of Lilia’s voice lines in which he expresses dying his hair different colors depending on his whims.

Every warrior seems to be wearing a mask? And we can see their eyes glow (I wonder if this is a trait of nocturnal fae)? The masks may be there as s cultural thing or maybe as a tactic to obscure their faces from their enemies.

It’s odd that Lilia’s dream seems to be of war time??? Because Malleus’s magic is meant to give them happy dreams, but surely Lilia doesn’t think of war time as a happy period of his life???? Maybe that will be better explained in the next update??

AAAAAAAHAHHHHHHHH??????? ? ?????? ? ? ? ? ? ? THAT'S THE END OF THE PART 3 UPDATE???? ? ?? ??? ? TWST, YOU REALLY GONNA CUT US OFF LIKE THIS?? ???? ? ? ? ???????? ? ? 🫠 WE’RE ONLY At PART 55 AnD SO MUcH SHiT hAS GONE dOWN…………………..,,..,,, …….. ….. … . .. . .. . . .

#Diasomnia #twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #Yuu #Grim #Mickey Mouse

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zoros-fourth-sword · 9 months ago

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ZORO x FEM READER

This was my own idea I’m a single mom lmao and I never got to experience the whole loving partner thing or whatever but I decided to write a little fic for myself about Zoro because I see him having a pregnancy kink like 100% 😂🙂

{MDNI 18+ only}

This oneshot is a 18+ only so read at your own risk

This oneshot contains: eating out, sleepy sex, oral sex, sweet name calling, soft dom, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, and more

BEWARE MY WRITING SUCKS

SOFT ZORO x PREGO FEM READER

Everything is Consensual in this one shot

“Fuck Zoro” the pregnant woman moaned as she rubbed her legs together. she and the green haired swordsman were laying in their shared bedroom fast asleep but due to Zoro’s good hearing Y/N’s loud talking woke him up. thinking she was waking him up to go get the blond cook to make one of her cravings again

“Fuck Zoro Please” the girl moaned once again

“Alright princess I’ll go get whatever you need” The swordsman chuckled but once he realized his beloved was asleep he stopped in his place

“Zoro please” the sleeping girl panted as she rubbed her ankles together

Once the swordsman realized what his pregnant wife was dreaming about caused lewd thoughts to pass through his mind making his dick harden in his shorts

Coming up with the idea to please his beloved he pulls the covers off her legs showing off her plushy thighs. Zoro gently spreads her legs being careful not to wake her up he pushes her oversized t-shirt above her baby bump causing her to stir in her sleep making him freeze in his spot. once he knew she was asleep he pulled her underwear to the side to devour her sweetness. in one swift motion Zoros tongue was on her heat doing pleasurable motions causing the woman to pull his hair by pure instinct

Something about zoro seeing his wife plump and pregnant with his baby made his dick harder than ever. That's all he could think about was Y/N Layed out on their bed. milk leaking from her round plump tits from his doing. he loved to see her begging, panting, wanting more, he knew her hormones made it worse for her. He liked that she needed him more than ever

“Fuck zoro” I moun as I pull on the man’s hair once i realized I wasn’t dreaming I was shocked that zoro decided to be so touchy tonight we haven’t been able to have sex in the last couple days due to his journeys with Luffy I usually stay on the ship with Brook while the rest of the crew take care of everything else.

so the moment I’m in right now I’m going to savor it, I have been so needy it was like my body was craving something and I figured it out I needed fucking zoro and god he felt so good

“You feel so good zoro” I moan as I place my hand on my baby bump while the other squeezes the bed covers

“Mhm” Zoro growled once he realized I was awake sending vibrations up my core and adding more pleasure to my pleasure

“Please zoro I need you” I pant as I pull his green locks causing him to pull away

“Only because you asked me so nicely and you deserve it,” Zoro said as he rubs his rough hands across my bump pulling up the rest of my shirt

“But first I need a drink” Zoro grumbled as he put my nipple into his mouth squeezing the other causing milk to leak from the both of them

“Zoro you feel so good so so good” I pant loving that he’s making my sore boobs feel good I needed this

“I know baby I know and you taste so fucking good” he growled as he switched to my other tit making sure to give them the same amount of treatment

“Please zoro I need you” I whine as I began to grind against his thigh desperately needing friction

Not saying a word zoro swiftly pulled his shorts and underwear off letting his hard cock free

“Hands and knees babydoll” Zoro grumbled his deep voice sending chills up my spine

“Okay” I weakly say as I position myself on my hands and knees it being quite the struggle due to my bump

“We got to be gentle sweetheart” Zoro mumbled as he leaned over my back running his hand under me to rub my bump

“Mhm” I moan once I feel his hard cock against my wetness

“Ready sweetheart,” Zoro asked as he leaned back to adjust his cock

“Yes” I pant lowering my head between my arms

“Good” Zoro mumbled as he gently inserted his cock causing me to let out a whine

“Fuck baby your so wet did you miss me that much” Zoro huffed as he massaged my ass cheeks continuing to softly rut into me

“Yes I missed you so much” I moan getting more turned on by the squishing sounds between my legs

“You feel so good Zoro” I whine as I hold my bump trying to steady it

“You're being such a good girl Y/N taking my cock so eagerly” Zoro grumble as he grabbed my hips to pump into me faster

“Fuck Zoro” I pant as droll ran from my mouth from the addictive feeling

“Shit sweetheart keep saying my name,” Zoro said as angels himself wanting to feel my cervix

“Zoro” I squeak out trying to catch my breath

“You’re so pretty pregnant with my baby sweetheart,” Zoro said as he moved my hair from my sweaty back so I was less hot

“I love being pregnant with your baby Zoro I would have thousands of more” instantly saying what was on my mind

“Shit Y/N” Zoro growled as he dug his nails into my hips releasing inside me from my words

“Fuck baby don’t say shit like that” Zoro huffed as leaned over my back to plant a kiss against the side of my head

“Are you-“Before I could finish my husband cut me off

“Don’t worry baby I’m going to finish you off. how about you sit your sexy ass on my face”

Hopefully this was good I’m sorry if it wasn’t but comment and like if you enjoyed 😚🥰🙏

#one peice #one piece oneshots #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #op zoro #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x oc #zoro smut #zoro oneshot #oneshot

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gravity-falls-fanatic89 · 9 days ago

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November's Naughty and Nice Stories

Day 21: Love is the Best Medicine

Stan Pines x Reader fluff/ Any age

Everything was absolutely sore and achy as you tried to climb out of bed to use the bathroom. Your body was weak from the flu, and you felt like death warmed over.

"Hold up ya walkin' germ...You're 'spose to be restin'!" Stan came walking in from the hallway, and was dressed for work, filling in for Soos since he was sick too.

"Stan, I hafta to pee...I'm nod gonna pee on the bed," you cried, all stuffed up. He came up, and had you lean on him for support to get to the toilet.

"I'll get ya a pee pad if that helps, heh," he jabbed, but saw how weak you looked, and felt bad seeing you like that. "I'm just teasing sweetie. Let me help walk ya to the bathroom."

He swept you up, and helped you to the toilet, being very gentle, and you felt better just being against him, and him being very sweet about it. Not that taking a pee was romantic, but it was the gesture of care you appreciated. He helped you get yourself situated again, and carried you back into bed.

"Thank you, Stan...I 'preciate that."

"Yeah, yeah, it was nuttin' babe. Just get some rest, and I'll be back around lunch." He bent in to kiss your forehead, then tucked you in, and gave you a little worried glance as he left the room.

You went back and forth in and out of fever dream sleeps, and just felt restless. You were sweaty, and cold at the same time, and hoped Stan would come back soon. Everything felt congested and miserable, and you just felt alone, and finally dozed off to sleep.

You finally woke up again, but this time, you had a wash cloth on your head, and Stan was propped in a chair, relieved you woke up. "Hey, babe...I took a half day, and gave Ford a chance to schmooze the customers. He might actually show them some real deal stuff."

"Stan, I'm okay. You dinnit hafta to come back. It's the flu or somethin'." You felt a little bad, but you were happy he came back.

"Sweetheart, you look rough. It was breakin' my old heart carryin' ya to the john and bein' so weak. Ford can pass as me for a few hours. No one unless it's family is gonna think nothin' of it. Now, let me get you more comfortable." He pulled off his tank top, and pulled off his pants.

He came over to the bed, and took all the layers of blankets and clothes off you, and slid his tank top onto you instead. The smell of his cheap cologne and sweat was soothing. "Alright, ya want me to sit in bed with you? I promise I won't get frisky with ya...You're gross, ha!"

"Yes, please," you said, and he grabbed a book, and you laid on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, and feeling him against you made you start to feel better already.

He kissed your forehead again, and leaned on it. "Get some sleep, ya giant germ....And ya better take care of me if I get sick from ya, got it?"

"Deal." And you dozed off to sleep.

*Yes, this totally reflects me right now in bed 😂 Which is fitting for a November story. I hope everyone is enjoying them ☺️

#stan pines #stanley pines #post about stan #grunkle stan #hunkle stan #gravity falls #writing #fluff #stan pines x reader #stan pines x you #day 21 #all audiences

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luffyvace · 7 months ago

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X☆☆GIRLFRIEND AIURA ☆☆X

I LOVE AIURA SHE’D BE THE BEST PLATONICALLY AND ROMANTICALLY 💗💗

she’s my fav tdlosk girl ♡

She’s so supportive!! Anything you dream of or want to do she’ll invest in it and cheer you on! She spend money to fund whatever your doing or if it doesn’t require money she’ll be there whenever you practice/train, etc! She’s your number 1 fan/cheerleader and will literally dress up as one if it further motivates you 😂🤗👍 If you get burnt out she gives you pep talks to keep going and believes wholeheartedly you’ll be famous one day! She can use her powers to check if you want? 😙

she’s very blunt- 😭 she says what she wants to say—when she wants to say it, therefore you will always get her honest opinion on something. Don’t bother going to her if you want her to sugarcoat something. Your better off going to teruhashi or chiyo for that 🤷‍♀️ But if you like straight forward constructive criticism, then she’s your girl! (Literally 😆) don’t get me wrong! She won’t only point out all the flaws in whatever your asking her for advise for, she also praises what you did good on!! <3 I mean she does give others advice on a daily so i reckon she’d be pretty darn good at it.

she love shopping 😍😍 (me too) even if you don’t like it ngl she’s gonna drag you on her shopping halls anyway. It’s not like she can push two carts worth of clothes by herself 😜 she makes you rate her fits out of 10 and models it in front of you before you do. You’d better be paying attention too! Don’t ignore her⁉️😤 (Or she’s making you pay for everything)

obviously she has a stellar fashion sense so if you ever don’t know what to wear, you can always go to her :) she’ll dress you up anyway if she thinks your clothes are too bland so don’t even worry about it at this point. 😭 you just gotta be on par with her taster in fashion!! Like?? How can she look good but her s/o doesn’t???? No way! Your both gonna look like stars 🤩⭐️

you’d best tell her your fashion sense too or else she’s just gonna make you a gyaru as well 😀 (for the record there are male gyaru’s)

she will fortune tell your future together to see if your compatible, she’s a really dedicated girlfriend so she’ll do her best to make the relationship work out. As seen with saiki in the anime, except she fails in courting him- but this time it’s with you and you didn’t fumble the bag so two are already together

if it doesn’t work out she’ll try and figure out why and change it! No way her and her for liferrrrrs/soulmate isn’t going to be together foe eva?? 🤨 wym?

shes pretty stubborn so she’s determined to fix whatever went wrong :P

if she sees a ideal future she won’t stop talking about it

she practically dreams of it 😭💗💗

she daydreams and fantasizes about it more than she realizes. If torisuka found out he’d definitely make fun of her- only to get kicked in to the land of no kids 😂🥋 (🤭😶)

you suppport her in her job, you take her out for a spa if she’s had a rough day. Her clients be getting wild. 😭 Your usually there with her but she’ll rant to you about it after she gets off work anyway because she just needs to get her thoughts out. Not that your complaining, she’s always coming up with the most ridiculous insults that make you laugh, so it’s not unbearable 🤷‍♀️😂

your gera (aura) looks the most attractive to her!! ⭐️😚 like, she can see them and everybody’s looks different right? Well she romanticizes you (which is ironic because she’s brutally honest if you ask me) so she’s naturally attracted to your aura. Will actively seek you out in a crowd using this. >:3 She’s likely scared you a couple times by the way she turns around, knowing your there, before you call her name….😃

She’s open to using her powers to help others, so obviously any favor you ask of her that require them is no biggie for her! 😼👍

will also use her powers to make sure nothing ever happens to you 😤💖 don’t worry!! Your psychic girlfriend will protect you!

(If it calls for it she’ll get saiki to help since he can do much more than her—maybe torisuka too if the problem is a ghost 😒)

you get to hang out with the psychic trio since she 100% told you about they’re powers 😭

well what did you except? she trusts you! Not sorry Saiki 😜🤷‍♀️

she makes a lot of money from her job and spoils you with it 🤗 Don’t worry about paying her back she said! Let your psychic girlfriend spoil you! >:D You want clothes? She’s does too!! Let’s go shopping! Your hungry? Let’s eat out! You pick the place ;) You picked up a new hobby and need xyz for it?? She’s bought it and sent the delivery address to your house 💋 (Call her when you open it!! :P 😤)

also for the record she 100% found out you were gonna start dating/accept her love confession through her crystal ball. 😅💞 She was so hype about it and couldn’t stop thinking of you. She did her best to collect as much info on you as possible from her crystal ball and others who knew you.

she probably gives you a nickname that you have a love/hate relationship with. One of those nicknames that annoy you, but only she can get away with it cuz it’s her- so it’s endearing <33

either that or a real cheesy pet name she won’t stop calling you 😭🤦‍♀️

“Honey-bear!~ come here for a second!”

you always end up running around—getting dragged in her ‘adventures’ while helping others. Saiki too, so he’s likely there as well. She just can’t fight the urge to help those in need! Idk if it’s canon but if it’s not, I hc her to be an actual empath 💗⭐️

Overall you lowkey love her rambunctiousness and especially how she’s not afraid to be herself 😭💗💗

Hopefully you guys enjoyed these hcs of my fav girllll!!!

I love her she’s SPECTACULAR!! 😍😍⭐️

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year ago

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💌 Request~

Hi love 🥺❤️!! So this request is based on a funny dream I had HAHA

Basically Daddy chan came home and caught me using toys 🤪 because he came home early one day to surprise me since he couldn't see me for 2 and a half weeks (comeback schedule CRAZY😭 so I'm like chan DEPRIVED)! And he doesn't know I have sex toys LMAOO, when he caught me I was like 🤡............and he was like 🫱🤡🫲 *hands on hips "Bb girl you wanna tell me when you got those or what???" 🙂

He was such a softie though 🫠❤️ I did remember he got pouty later and was like why didn't you ask me to get you a dildo of my dick (SHY ME COULD NEVA LOL) instead I'M BETTA >:/?!

The rest was a blur 😭 make a y/n fic with this whole situation I guess 😂🙏❤️ mwuah💋 love ya!

Omg @berryberrytan I love the pics haha and have saved them all.

Reunion

Content Includes: Daddy!Bang Chan x fem!reader, 18+, use of a vibrator, getting caught in the act, masturbation, teasing, kissing, shy reader, reader is called ‘babygirl’ (of course, that’s canon), Chan is slightly rough and aggressive, reader is insecure about how she sounds…so Daddy!Chan makes sure she doesn’t think like that again.

Word Count: 782

The sheets and air were damp with your smell and scent as breathy moans filled the room, thighs tense and cunt clenched with need as the vibrator suctioned and buzzed against your clit.

It had been so long, too long without Chan’s touch and you were SUFFERING.

You pressed the vibrator more firmly to your clit and it was enough to have your toes curl and a loud groan filled the room, the release more potent as you felt comfortable to fully let go and be as loud as you wish.

You were a bit shy with your sounds around Chan, worried it might be too annoying or too much but by yourself, you were loud, breathy and whiney.

Mmmm, at least you thought you were by yourself.

‘Babygirl, you want to tell me where you got that?’

Chan’s mildly irritated voice filled the room and your eyes snapped open, tilting your head up to see his blurry presence in the doorframe, hands on his hips and his eyes locked onto yours, they were dark and filled with frustration with a side of lust.

‘Chan…you’re home..I-I didn’t hear you’

The vibrator on the bed was left forgotten and your legs snapped shut, a blush graced upon your features as you realised you got caught in the act.

‘Of course you didn’t’

He sauntered towards you, roughly removing his tank top and dropping it on the floor, silver chain dangling in the crevice of his sternum.

‘You were so loud I could hear you from the living room sweetheart, almost had me thinking you were cheating on me with how fucked out you sounded’.

A squeal left your throat as Chan roughly pulled your legs and body towards the edge of the bed, leaning down to hover over you slightly, hand supporting himself against your side.

‘Tell me babygirl’ His voice was dark, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed in a way that slightly scared you, and made your cunt wet and nipples hard.

‘Why don’t you ever sound like that around Daddy mmh? Is my cock not good enough for you?’

You gulped slightly and became breathless, hips and thighs unintentionally spreading wider as your body became submissive under Chan’s intense gaze.

‘No-it’s not that’ Your voice was almost shaking from how breathless you already were, your hand tentatively rising to be placed upon his warm chest.

‘I’m just not sure if I sound good’

You stared at him with doe eyes and there was so much sincerity in your gaze that it made Chan’s heart clench with love and cock to harden in his briefs.

He crashed his mouth to yours, kissing you in a wet and messy way as his hand cupped your chin, pushing your thighs apart with his knees so you were spread further for him.

Chan pulled away with a loud noise, his bottom lip wet with spit and cheeks blushed red with arousal.

‘Who told my babygirl she doesn’t sound pretty when she cums huh?’

His grip on your chin tightened so you were forced to keep his gaze, a small smirk on his face but his eyes filled with warmth and care.

‘Was it me? Did Daddy tell you?’

You shook your head fervently and responded with a bold and confident ‘No!’.

‘So…’ Chan removed his grip from your chin and brushed your hair away from your face.

‘If Daddy didn’t tell you, then that means it’s not true, yeah?’

You nodded in agreement, trailing your fingers down his naval and resting them around the waistband of his shorts.

‘If you don’t believe me, then feel this’

Chan roughly grabbed your hand and placed it on his bulge, you could feel how hard he was through the material and how warm his body was.

‘I’ve been hard since hearing you babygirl, you did this to me’.

He hissed as you took the initiative to palm him over his shorts, confidence building in you as you felt how hard and aroused he was under your touch.

‘I guess I should be loud for you more then, I missed you so much Daddy’

Chan smiled at you fondly as he rubbed your sides, leaning down to place a sweet and gentle kiss to your mouth.

‘Missed you too babygirl, missed you every day’.

The soft moment ended when Chan rolled his hips over you, the grinding sensation against your bare and wet core causing you to whine from the sensation.

‘And now’ Chan grunted out as he adjusted himself, propping a pillow under your hips and pushing your knees to your chest.

‘Daddy’s going to make you scream more than that piece of toy ever will’.

Author's Note: It is always a great day to write Daddy!Chan.

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endofradio · 4 months ago

Text

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 5: I HATE YOU, I LOVE YOU

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4

WARNINGS: NSFW (*extremely loud cheering and applause*)

NOTES: the frank simps are gonna love this one… anyways this chapter’s gonna be a bit unique in the sense i’m gonna be doing some perspective switching. there’ll be some flashback scenes that’ll be italicized to distinguish them from the main scene.

also i couldn’t find a gif to use for this chapter so i just used a random frank one.

SUMMARY: FRANK AND SYLVIE FINALLY SMASH!!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

WORD COUNT: 2,375

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @blackwolfstabs @atcarpenter @evildarliing @maggotmommys @maggotssmichael @xashleyo03x @witchy-weve-monbebe

if you’d like to be added to my taglist, feel free to shoot me a message or send an ask to my inbox! the support means a lot :)

“If you take one step closer…”

Adam took another step towards the jail cell, leaning against the wall. “Then what?” He asked, staring at Sylvie with that signature cocky smirk that pissed her off to no end. “What are you gonna do about it? You’re stuck in there, y’know.”

Sylvie narrowed her eyes at the man, her expression full of irritation. “Fuck you…” was all she could respond with.

Adam toyed with the ID badge that was around his neck. “Look, I know you really wanna get out of here…”

Sylvie rolled her eyes, letting out a scoff. “No shit.” She grumbled. “Being stuck in a jail cell was the very last thing on my mind, y’know.”

Adam chuckled. “You got yourself into this mess. You realize that, right? You were the one driving around drunk off your ass. I just happened to be there when it happened.”

“What were you doing at that party, anyway?” Sylvie asked, her eyes narrowing further. “There was nothing to investigate. It was just a typical college party.”

Adam shrugged. “That would be confidential information.” He muttered. “I don’t have to tell you anything, anyway.”

He looked back at Sylvie. “Tell you what…”

Sylvie raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’ll let you out early if you give me a little kiss.”

Sylvie let out a scoff. “Fuck off.”

“Just one quick, little kiss. Could be your ticket to freedom. Nobody’s watching, if you’re worried about that.”

“You have a fucking wife.”

“She doesn’t have to know. She doesn’t know about half the shit I’m up to, anyway… like going to strip clubs with the other lieutenants.” Adam let out a mischievous chuckle. “Besides… you’re prettier than her, anyway.”

Sylvie didn’t answer, her silence combined with her annoyed stare being enough of a response.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not like I’m askin’ you to fuck me. Though, I wouldn’t exactly be opposed to that idea, either…”

“I’m not fucking kissing you, you creep.”

Adam moved away from the wall. “Your loss, then.”

As annoyed as Sylvie was, she wasn’t bothering to back away from the man.

Why?

Sylvie reached for Frank’s glasses, taking them off of his face and placing them on the bedside table. As soon as she did that, he captured her lips in another rough kiss, pulling her impossibly closer to him, his hand firmly gripping her hip. Hell, this was like a dream come true for him.

And then, it happened.

Both of them quietly gasped against each other’s lips, and Sylvie quickly wrapped an arm around Frank’s neck. Slowly, he began to take her right then and there, and as she looked up at him, Sylvie could see his eyes darkening with desire.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. This was the man she was supposed to hate, yet here she was, underneath him. All the memories started to hit her like a truck.

Sylvie felt Frank’s lips touch her neck again, and she tightly shut her eyes as she tried to suppress a whimper. Each time he rocked his hips against hers, Sylvie felt herself drowning — drowning in a sea of ecstasy. She actually didn’t want him to stop.

She felt Frank nip at her neck, and that sent another jolt of pleasure through her. She tried so hard not to make a sound, but the smallest of a whimper left her lips.

She had never felt anything during sex… until now. With him. Why?

All the other times had just simply been poor decisions fueled by intoxication — one-night stands that never made her feel anything except for regret, emptiness, and shame. She didn’t even feel anything for the men she hooked up with. The majority of the time, she never even saw them again.

But… no. This… this was different. Five years later, Frank ended up back in her life again. Was this meant to happen? Fate, perhaps?

Sylvie wanted to hate Frank, but it seemed that especially now, she couldn’t bring herself to. It was like he had gotten under her skin, and she couldn’t get him out. Why was she feeling this way? He wasn’t any good for her. He wasn’t a good person.

Why do I become attached to what isn’t right for me?

But… this, all of this… it felt so good.

“I’ve dreamed of havin’ you at my mercy.” Frank quietly whispered against Sylvie’s neck. The words sent feverish chills down her spine. “It’s nice to have you not being a smart-ass for a change…”

Sylvie wanted to tell him to shut up, but she couldn’t. All she could manage was another quiet gasp as Frank continued to nip at the sensitive skin on her neck. She was fighting an internal battle with her own mind. He was putting her under a spell at this very moment, and she couldn’t break out of it, even if she tried.

Frank pulled away from Sylvie’s neck, grabbing her face with his hand and moving it so she was looking directly at him. He looked down at her and noticed how her face was flushed, her lips were parted, and her eyes were flickering with desire. It stroked his ego even further to know that he was the one responsible for it. Yeah, he had been attracted to her before, but he was even more attracted to her now.

“I’ve spent the past five years thinking about you.”

“But… how? We… only knew each other for… a few months.”

“You’re still driving me fuckin’ insane. You always have. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you act… y’know what would be nice?”

Frank leaned in closer than he already was, his lips brushing against hers. “You whispering my name… like a prayer to God. Over and over again. I would kill just to hear that…”

Am I dying? Am I dead? Is this what it feels like to die?

Sylvie couldn’t take it anymore. He was genuinely killing her. Every word that came out of his mouth was dangerous. Fatal.

Frank’s pace increased just a little, and even that was just about sending her into overdrive. There was almost a primal look in his eyes now as he looked at her, and then he pulled her into another deep kiss, unable to get enough of her taste. It was like a drug that he was hooked on. He wanted more, more, more.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” Frank quietly asked against Sylvie’s lips. “I think I know how you really feel about me. You need my attention, my touch.”

Yes. She needed to feel wanted. Desired.

“Let me…” Sylvie then whispered.

Frank rolled the two of them over so that way Sylvie was now on top of him, her legs wrapping around his waist.

And then, she lowered herself onto him.

“What’s your deal with me?”

Adam shrugged, leaning against the wall. “What do you mean by that?” He asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

“Why you just won’t leave me alone.”

Adam let out a small chuckle as he looked at Sylvie, noticing how she was looking at him with that irritated expression that he honestly loved seeing. “It’s because it’s fun.”

“Fun?” Sylvie repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. “The fuck do you mean fun?”

“It’s just the way you get,” Adam answered casually, walking towards the cell door until he was standing right in front of it. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but ‘angry’ is a good look on you. Maybe that’s why I like getting on your nerves so much… you look good when you’re pissed at me.”

Ignoring Adam’s words, Sylvie instead chose to focus on the fact he was standing right in front of her, the only thing separating them being the cell door. “You’re… close.” She commented.

Adam smirked, taking out a key from his pocket and waving it in front of her. “I could get closer…” He whispered, almost teasingly.

Sylvie found herself genuinely considering it. Did she dare let him in? Her eyes darted to the chair in the corner of the cell before meeting Adam’s gaze again.

“Fine.” She muttered. “Just… keep your distance.”

Sylvie went to sit on the bed, watching nervously as Adam unlocked the door, closing it behind him as he slowly stepped inside. He walked over to the chair and sat down on it, staring directly at Sylvie.

“Let me ask you something.”

Sylvie tilted her head as she looked at the man. “Like… what?” She questioned.

“How does it feel to be alone?”

Sylvie sighed. “Not good.”

“I suppose we have that in common.”

“You’re alone, too?”

Adam nodded. “Very much so.”

With each roll of her hips, Sylvie felt the heat gradually pooling in her abdomen starting to grow in intensity. She was gasping for breath at this point, the ecstasy making her feel dizzy.

As she looked down at him, Sylvie watched Frank’s eyes flutter closed as he tried to bite back a noise, but he couldn’t, a small groan escaping his lips. In all honesty, seeing Frank at her mercy now was somewhat satisfying. It was as though the two of them were both trying to have control over each other. In Sylvie’s case, it was a form of revenge against Frank. Instead of him having power over her, she now had power over him… and it felt great.

“I thought you said to be quiet,” Sylvie whispered, her voice slightly teasing.

Frank’s eyes blinked open, and he looked up at Sylvie, his eyes narrowing. “You bitch.” He muttered, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re the one who’s fuckin’ doing this shit to me.”

Then, he unexpectedly pulled her further down onto him, claiming her lips in yet another heated kiss. In reaction, Sylvie let out a stifled yelp against his lips. Frank tightened his grip on her writhing body, his brows furrowing as he fought to maintain what was left of his self-control. His hips met hers with every movement, his muscles tensing up.

“You’re strugglin’ to be quiet yourself, sweetheart.”

Frank then sat up, pulling Sylvie closer to him as he started to lavish her neck with kisses and bites again. She was firmly gripping onto his shoulders, her nails starting to dig into his skin as her pace started to quicken. As she tilted her head back, Frank’s name — his real name — slipped from her lips in a whisper.

“Adam…”

Frank could’ve sworn his heart stopped for a second when he heard Sylvie say his name like that. He needed to hear it again and again until he could vividly hear her sweet little voice in his head.

“Say it again.” He murmured, his voice bordering on pleading. “And again…”

Sylvie was almost on the verge of tears from the pleasure she was experiencing. It was nothing like she had felt before. It was almost too much for her to handle at this point, evident in the way she was beginning to tremble in Frank’s arms. “A… Adam…”

She was whispering his name like she was quietly calling out to God, each repetition sounding more desperate than the last. Both of them knew that she was close, just about teetering on the edge. So was Frank, but he was barely hanging on, waiting to witness Sylvie reach the end first — he needed to see it, knowing it would probably be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

Sylvie pushed Frank back down on the bed, her knuckles just about turning white as she gripped the bedsheets. The heat in her abdomen was getting stronger and stronger, and she felt like a coil that was mere seconds away from snapping.

Her hips started to stutter as she got closer and closer, her eyes fluttering closed as her breath hitched. “Oh my God…” She gasped. “Oh my… God…”

Frank let out another quiet groan, and then another…

And then, Sylvie finally snapped. When her climax came over her, it was the most intense thing she had experienced in her life. Her head was pounding, she felt dizzier than before, and her body began to tremble even more. Her entire body felt heavy, and she felt like she couldn’t support herself anymore. She shut her eyes even tighter, letting out a strangled yelp as she felt her release completely possess her.

Frank rolled the two of them over again, finishing himself off, muffling his own sounds by burrowing his face in the crook of Sylvie’s neck. When it was all over, Frank just lay there on top of her, both of them struggling to catch their breaths. He eventually lifted his head to look at her, noticing how she looked completely wrecked, and it was all because of him.

“You’re shaking.”

Sylvie looked up at Frank, her eyes wide as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. She didn’t even know what to say. Nothing felt real to her right now.

“I… am…?” She quietly asked, her voice unsteady.

Frank slowly nodded, a shit-eating grin slowly forming on his face. “That good, huh?”

Sylvie tried to fight back a small smile, but she couldn’t resist. “Shut up…” She muttered. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Frank asked, shifting to lie down next to her.

“No one’s… ever…” Sylvie’s voice trailed off as she tried to steady her breathing. “No one’s… ever… made me feel like… this…”

She took a deep breath, her eyes wandering up towards the ceiling. She then looked back at Frank, noticing the stupid cocky grin on his face. “What’s the look for?” She asked.

“So, was I right?”

“Right about what?”

“You lying about hating my guts.”

Sylvie sighed. “Yeah… maybe. Maybe I was lying.”

“That’s three things you’ve lied about. Well, technically four, because you said you never lie… which was a lie in itself.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know…”

“You’re an awful liar.”

“And you have quite the ego.”

Sylvie tried to sit up as if she was considering leaving the bed, but Frank pulled her down against his chest. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

“Go to sleep.”

Sylvie fell asleep before Frank, and when she did, he couldn’t help but find it strangely… endearing.

#fragments of fear #dan stevens #abigail #abigail 2024 #abigail movie #horror movies #horror #frank abigail #adam barrett #fanfiction author #my fic #fic authors #fic writing