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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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Believe Me [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Home from a mission in the dead of night, Loki requires absolution (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Avenger!Loki. Established relationship. Mild sub!loki, non-toxic jealously, 'authorised' mild infidelity (missions, innit).

You had dozed, slipping between the fleeting embrace of slumber. Snatches came and went, the cool of your pillow turning hot before you turned it again.

Fat feathers crisped as you lowered your head. The finest Asgardian goose. Loki insisted. With each wave of consciousness, you tried not to think of your lover destructively flirting his way through a honeytrap mission tonight. The poor mark didn’t stand a chance. You checked the clock. 03.23.

But something feels different.

Sitting up, you squinted beyond the darkness.

On the far side of the room, a wing-back chair rose in the gloom. The draped silk of your discarded robe still hung over the armrest, but it shimmered. It was moving. Black became grey as your eyes adjusted, seeing pale fingers weaving silk between them.

You saw him now.

Legs crossed, back straight and chin dipped as he watched you sleep while he bathed in shadow. Curls sat effortlessly back from his face, slices of cheekbone protruding from blackest night.

The shade of his suit was at one with the leather behind, but Loki’s bright eyes smouldered; embers of starlight and dying galaxies deep in the darkness. “I didn’t wish to wake you, love” he murmured, pulling the silk hem through his fingers a final time before letting it fall.

One long leg unfurled over the other, the click of his heel meeting the floor making you clench beneath the bed-covers. You were wet already. So wet. Like your body could sense his presence, if not yet your mind. She always could.

Like a dream, you cast the duvet back and rose; bare feet padding across the boards towards him. Cool air sent gooseflesh rippling up your thighs, your arms; the curves of your body protected only by a flimsy camisole. Only a few more steps. The leather of the chair squeaked as his thighs spread against the sides. “Loki,” you breathed, cupping his face.

No sooner had the name left your lips than a row of candles flickered to life, illuminating him from behind. They floated in the air, rivulets of wax already spilling soft rolls down the sides. “Hel-lo,” he purred teasingly. One eyebrow cocked. And the threat of a smirk pressing against his cheeks.

For the first time, you noticed his unusual attire. A three piece suit, with its crowning glory the drip of starched ruffles cascading down his chest to the high waist of his trousers. He shifted in the chair, the pad of a fingertip brushing a close-lipped smile.

“Steve really went Ken-doll on you tonight, huh?” you teased, mirth ebbing to renewed desire as he drew the fingers to the bow-tie fastened at his neck.

He shrugged, tugging it slowly, letting the silk unfurl. It hung perfectly around his collar. You wondered if he would tie you up with it. You hoped he would.

In a flash, two large hands cupped your ass, pulling you down to his lap. With a gasp you managed to straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his thick trunk. You kissed him deeply, savouring the softness of his tongue as it welled and licked and loved you. The ceremony was about to begin. His fingers spread against your cheeks, pulling and massaging as he groaned into your throat.

He tasted like jealousy. Traces of expensive perfume lingering on his skin and the faint hang of some rich whisky doing its best to conceal it. A thrill flooded through you, imagining the mark's desire roaring through her blood as she felt his muscle ripple beneath her touch. But Loki would never betray you, not beyond the emotionless tactics his position required.

Your thumb skated up his cheek, catching a patch of forgotten lipstick near his ear. Forgotten? No. You knew better than that. Whenever Loki came home from ensnaring a target with his wiles, he never missed the chance to make sure you knew who he belonged to. It was a mission. It was nothing. But ceremony must be upheld. His lips waxed and waned deeper, firing passion setting you alight. Every swallow was harsher and deeper than the last. Like he might lose you in the darkness. Loki grunted wetly as you scooted closer on his lap, chest flush to your colossus of a lover while his fingers wound in your hair. Your digits slid down his chest, feeling the ropes of muscle bound beneath starched folds. You broke apart just long enough to whisper the question he was waiting for. "You had to kiss this one?" You let the playful mist of a snarl hang on the air. Loki growled in response while you began working down his chin, along the long blade of his jawline. Letting the tip of your tongue run over the angle of his bone structure.

“Yes,” he rasped while you dropped lower, fastening to the slender muscle of his neck. You took a moment to appreciate his Adam’s apple work as he swallowed hard, ragged breaths ripping the air. His head fell back. “Only for a minute,” he panted to the ceiling. “It was perfunctory.”

Honestly from the god of lies, you’d found, was the greatest aphrodisiac of all.

“Where?” you asked, closing your eyes against his skin. “Against the wall,” he choked. His breaths were short. Loki’s fingernails grazed down the exposed skin between your shoulder-blades while you began to gently gyrate in circles. The god’s thick cock snaked down his thigh, ferociously hard against the tight fabric. At the mercy of your movements.

His brow creased as you slid back and forth, wetted lips parting with a needy gasp. “Did she want you?” you goaded, sliding the heel of your palm over one of his cheekbones. It raked through his hair. "Of course," he strummed, thighs beginning to tremble beneath your hips. Loki's hands ran in worship up the curve of your waist. "And did you want her?" you asked coyly. Loki pouted before a gentle tug of the camisole made your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “Never,” he breathed; eyes flashing dangerously as he lifted them to meet yours. “Never.” You slid a hand down his torso, through the mass of white foliage ruffles which lapped against your palm in flickering candlelight. They were hard, and yet soft. Just like him. And stiff. That too, was a common attribute.

Slowly, you reached the button of his trousers. Loki thrust into the touch, biting his lip with a flinch. His brows knitted together.

One button popped beneath your fingers. Then two.

He leant forward, pushing your cleavage together and burying his face deep. The god’s nose slotted perfectly between the mounds of flesh he sought, drowning himself in the scent of you. The feel of you. His muffled moans of anticipation made you squirm on his lap, rubbing your bare pussy against his sprung manhood.

Pants and wet grunts of desire filled the air before Loki surfaced, kissing manically up the path to your lips. He consumed you again, his palm skating up the nape of your neck in a violent embrace. Waves of stiff ruffles grazed your nipples, sending electric shocks of pleasure to your dripping core. Had you ever needed him more than this? You were certain you had. But you couldn’t remember when.

Loki’s hands massaged your ass, pulling you deeper against his face. His shirt ruffles scratched your inner thighs, the tender caress making you mewl his name to the ceiling.

“Say you believe me,” he gasped in desperation.

It was a dark prayer. And a desperate one, at that. A ring of saliva was smeared across his lower face. The words chanted on repeat as your searching fingers lined him up between your slick thighs.

“Say you believe me,” he pleaded, slurring. His throat clung to the final syllable, rasping it through a torturous exhale.

The tip of his cock jarred against your slit, a sticky mess of pre-cum and arousal webbing with each slow buck. He was trembling with the effort of resistance.

He would not. Not until the ceremony of his forgiveness was complete.

You looked down at him, head resting against the back of the chair. Carefully coiffured hair now hung around his cheekbones, jutting at mussed angles. Half-lidded eyes observed you with reverence, submission. A pilgrim awaiting absolution. You smiled. Leaning in, you traced the taut vein popping in his neck. Felt every bob and tighten as he swallowed on your ascent. The little mewls from his pretty lips. And all the while, his hips rocked; cock licking and caressing your glistening sex.

The swirl of your tongue tasted bitter. Remnants of perfume from her wrists as she wound her arms around his neck, perhaps. But it would be gone soon. It always was. They always were. And you? You remained. You always did.

You reached the soft skin beneath his ear, humming a little before sucking his delicate lobe between your lips. “I believe you, baby” you whispered.

It was no more than a breath. The truth needs no more than a breath, you’d found. And with a broken sob of gratitude, Loki felt you sink deep onto his leaking cock.

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roseworth · 4 months ago

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hi. here are my top 5 favorite comic moments ever (sort of in order, they can all be switched around sometimes depending on my mood)

"the son has not surpassed the father" (batman #645)

i cant even put into words what i like about this scene because everything about it makes me insane. its just so beautifully written and fits so well thematically and shows so much about how bruce is feeling without explicitly saying anything. so fucking good

2. "maybe he did. but my little girl is still dead." (batgirl #19)

fucking. fuck. again this moment just shows so much about how cass feels without saying it explicitly. theres a flashback to the man she murdered right after this because she sees herself in the murderer and doesnt believe she can be redeemed. itsfuck ignf. yeah. maybe he changed but she's still dead

3. "i owe you no explanations. i took the only compassionate option." (titans #12)

hoooooooly shit. i get chills every time i think about this im serious. adeline was suffering and about to die and kory killed her. kory saw herself in the suffering of someone else and KILLED HER. hard as fuck. i will refrain from going on a whole tangent about this but i feel like writers sometimes have the Good Guys kill someone and it doesnt really feel right, but this does it so well because it makes sense within the story AND for kory's character. she was right

4. "the last two bullets are for us" (green arrow #32)

this was so fucked up. can i call this a power couple moment. dinah has so much fucking kidnapping & torture trauma then she finds ollie after he was kidnapped & tortured and she goes dw babe we're gonna kill ourselves later. HELLO. i need to chew on them

5. "for all the times i will never forget. for all the things i can never forgive" (gotham city sirens #21)

everyone drop what youre doing and read gotham city sirens #20-21 right now. or read til the end of the book. gcs is mostly just an okay book but it fucking nails the ending. but this moment in particular makes me lose my mind because harley shows exactly how competent she is and gets into joker's cell in arkham with a gun when she thinks about how he hurt her. then the second she sees him she joins him again. its the ideal pre-breakup harley writing to me and this issue (this entire arc tbh) changed me

in conclusion i love my picture books 💞💞 i think more people should post their fav comic moments too because i wanna see everyone else's plsssss

also im putting honorable mentions under the cut:

"its not them" (blackest night: titans #3)

"i still dream of krypton" (supergirl woman of tomorrow #8)

"to the microscopic beings alive on his skin, this child is the entire universe" (poison ivy #6) (basically this entire issue is my favorite but i had to choose one page)

#i mentioned that the coffin scene was my fav last night then i kept thinking about what my other favs would be. and now here we are #they should invent a way to turn comic panels into drugs so i can smoke these #pass the no one dies tonight blunt #i think everyone should post their top 5 and tag me bc i really wanna knowwwwww #dc #im sorry for saying 'comic moments' then only using dc books 😔#i fear it'd be too niche if i started yapping about my favorite bitch planet moment

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ufonaut · 6 months ago

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DC'S I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST CRISIS #1

Written by DAN DiDIO, REX OGLE, DAVE WIELGOSZ, RACHEL PINNELAS, MATTHEW LEVINE, and others Art by M.L. SANAPO, ADAM GRAPHITE, SID KOTIAN, WILL ROBSON, JORDI TARRAGONA, and others Cover by DAN HIPP Variant covers by EJIKURE and NICOLA SCOTT $9.99 US | 80 pages | Prestige | Variant $9.99 US (card stock) ON SALE 10/2/24

In the blackest night, when the darkness feels infinite, the very fabric of the universe begins to tear…as every major crisis in DCU history rises once again! These eight chilling tales, set during the events of crises past, serve to warn you, dear reader: when in crisis, watch your back. In the fractured world of Flashpoint, Professor Pyg is stalking Gotham City’s nightclubs, sniffing out victims! During Blackest Night, Scarecrow lurks outside a movie theater, recruiting new test subjects to perfect his fear toxin! Even heroes like Nightwing aren’t safe when his death might just have the power to reverse the damage of Infinite Crisis! All these, plus new stories from Crisis on Infinite Earths, Millennium, Zero Hour, The Final Night, and Final Crisis are collected in DC’s I Know What You Did Last Crisis, a deadly new horror anthology coming to haunt you this fall!

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azulazenin · 3 months ago

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The Big Bad Wolf

Kinktober 2024 | Role Play: Hunter/Prey

Pairing: Adrian Tepes/Alucard x Original Character (Mihaela Karnstein)

Summary: Adrian is in heat and his wife wants to indulge his fantasies

Warnings: Explicit content, (sort of) consensual non-consent. Minors DNI !

A/N: This is an extra for my story The Blackest Day and its sequel Swan Song. Be mindful that in this particular universe, Alucard was born in 1451, not 1456 like the show, and Mihaela was born in 1453. However, they are both dhampirs and they develop faster, by the time this excerpt happens they are physically, emotionally and mentally adults.

This particular piece was inspired by A Scent That Lingers. Go to read it if you're into Vlad and Lisa!

1467

Dry grass and pieces of wood branches scratched Mihaela’s bare feet as she ran around the forest, venturing deep into the wilderness, listening to the wind blowing the leaves on the high trees and a wolf howling from afar. The moon was full and the night was cold. She would have liked to stop and make a fire to warm herself up, but she didn’t have a second to spare, it would only make her fall victim to him sooner.

Him. She could hear him getting closer, the white wolf, his howling becoming louder, a clear indication that he was near, for no matter how fast she ran, Mihaela was still no match for his pace. He was going to get her, mount her and claim her as his mate, just like he said he would. There was no escaping, only delaying her inexorable fate, running until she was out of breath and her poor feet couldn’t take it anymore…

She noticed glimpses of a white figure showing through the old trees, causing her to jump scared and stop so abruptly that she fell to the ground, the stones and pine needles ripping the fabric of her skirts and opening deep scratches on her knees. Mihaela held back a scream not to draw his attention to her, but it was too late: he could scent the droplets of blood flowing from her fresh wounds, and the smell drove him crazy, it soon had him coming out of the shadow of the trees and jumping on top of her.

Mihaela fell on her back, screaming when she looked up and saw him. The wolf, its white fur brushing against her skin, its golden eyes staring at her with some primal urge and its big teeth bared as he growled, sniffing on her to make sure no other beast had tried to claim her before him. She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt his warm tongue licking off the blood of her knees, but when it stopped, something grabbed at her wrists to drag her away, and it weren’t paws, it were hands.

She opened her eyes and the wolf was gone, in its place stood a man, tall and pale, with beautiful, long blond hair and smooth skin. Adrian, her Adrian… but not exactly him. She remembered they were not themselves that night, she wasn’t Mihaela the dhampir princess of Styria, but a helpless, innocent damsel trying to escape her predator; he wasn’t Adrian or Alucard, the son of Dracula and prince of vampires, he was the hunter, the beast who came to mount his prey.

“No!” She whined, struggling to get rid of his strong hold on her wrists.

“Yes!” He purred, dragging her to a pile of leaves in a small depression on the soil.

Mihaela tried to crawl away when she was pushed on that nest of leaves, only to be grabbed by her ankles and pinned down by the weight of his body.

“You’re not trying to escape, are you?” He inquired in a mocking tone, one of his hands back on her wrists to hold them above her head.

“P-Please...” She sobbed, feeling his bare skin against the fabric of her nightdress. He was as naked as the day he was born. “Don’t hurt me...”

“Hurt you? I would never hurt you, my dear, I’m just gonna fuck you.”

“N-No, we c-can’t...”

“Oh, so you're telling me you don’t want me to?” He teased, getting desperate nods in return. “Liar. I can smell how aroused you are.” He pulled up her skirts, pushing her underwear aside to insert a finger inside of her. “And I can taste it.”

Adrian licked her wetness off his finger, groaning in satisfaction at her taste. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, how could her body betray her like this?

He smirked, delighting on her struggle. She was trying to kick him off of her, writhing beneath him as he ripped off her undies, making little noises of protest when he pushed his knee between her legs to spread them open and press it against her clit.

“You really expect me to believe you don’t want this when you’re dripping wet?”

Mihaela bit on her lip, attempting to make it stop quivering. She couldn’t really say he was wrong, even she could smell the juices of her arousal, and it didn’t help that she started to slowly rub her pussy against his knee.

“See? You cannot fight your own desires.” Adrian chuckled, whispering in her ear. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll take good care of you.”

He didn’t waste any time preparing her to take him – she was wet enough, and he was hard enough, too turned on by the chase and the little fight she put up. He released her wrists and held his cock, brushing the tip against her entrance, pushing it all the way inside her cunt at once. Beneath him, Mihaela gripped a handful of leaves and wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back in need.

“Damn, woman! You are so warm...” He moaned, teeth nibbling on her shoulder. “You were made for this… for me.”

Whining, Mihaela let go of the leaves and clung to him, her nails sinking into his back as he smashed his hips against her, balls slapping against her ass and cock reaching all the right spots inside of her. All the previous noises of protest she made turned into little moans and cries for more, her sweet voice mixing with the sounds of nature around them, with the owls’ hoots and the bats’ trills, the rustling of leaves and the whistle of the wind.

Adrian’s lips parted in pleasure when he looked down on her, completely surrendered and under his mercy. He speeds up the pace, thrusting into her poor cunt mercilessly, desperately searching for the relief of his throbbing cock, dying to spill his seed inside of her. Mihaela’s state was no better, hips arching up to meet his, pleading him to fuck her harder and fill her up.

It was his last straw, to feel her walls clenching around him, creaming his dick as she begged for his cum. The sclera of his eyes went red and he grunted like an animal in heat, his hands found their way to grab her waist and keep her still as he fucked her like his life depended on it, as he pushed deeper and deeper until his tip touched her womb and he filled her with his seed.

Adrian sighed with relief, continuing to thrust into her until his cock stopped pulsing. He withdrew, but kept her legs spread for a while so he could look at his sperm leaking from her cunt. Was there ever a more appealing sight?

He finally fell on the ground, pulling her into his arms to nestle her on his chest. He kissed the top of her head, listening to her faint chuckle.

“What’s so funny, love?”

“Nothing.” She giggled. “I was only thinking you were really into it.”

“As were you. Your helpless girl act was really convincing.”

“Well, what can I say? I like the idea of being actually helpless compared to you.”

Adrian laughed too, tightening his hold on her. Of course he would never do any of those things without her explicit consent, but if she liked it that much, what was the problem in indulging?

“You’re a naughty one, you know?”

“And that’s all your fault, I didn’t have these weird fantasies before I married you, you’re the one triggering it.”

He smiled at her words and captured her lips in a sweet kiss, his heart about to explode in chest with the flattery. She always knew what to say and what to do to boost his ego.

Thank the gods he married her.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania original character #castlevania oc #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x original character #adrian tepes x oc #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x you #adrian tepes/alucard #alucard tepes #alucard tepes x original character #alucard tepes x oc #alucard tepes x reader #alucard x oc #alucard x reader

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timeforaneclipse · 2 months ago

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Falling Apart (Lilia Calderu x reader)

Chapter three

Available on AO3

Warnings - Angst? very little gore (honestly its nothing)

It was dark. The sky was almost pitch black apart from the occasional twinkle in the sky. "You know the best thing about even the blackest of nights?" Michelle asked as she leaned her head on the older witch's shoulder. Agatha rolled her eyes. What could be so great about an endless sky of nothing? Michelle sighed and played with her nails. "That there will always be stars to look up to." Agatha smiled weakly and shook her head. She should have imagined that Michelle would come off with something corny like that. She gave a soft glance to the younger less experienced witch. Ever since they had met, Michelle had always looked on the bright side of life. Despite living through so much hell.

Agatha sighed and ran her fingers through Michelle's locks. "You're too naive for your own good." She whispered against the younger girls head. It felt nice. Like no one could touch them in this moment. Agatha clutched her slightly. Michelle wouldn't leave her... right? Michelle laughed as she leaned into her touch. "You always did strike me as odd. Especially when I found you carrying your sister trying to enter Salam. How old was she then? Only a tot." Agatha hummed, deeply in her thoughts. Now you were what? Eleven?

Glancing back, Michelle made eye contact with the older witch. Agatha smirked at the young woman and raised a curious eyebrow. "I think you like my oddness, Harkness." Scoffing at Michelle's teasing words, Agatha smirked like an idiot and leaned slightly closer. Michelle followed suit and her claws gripped onto Agatha's clothing. She glanced to the the older witches lips. Agatha stroked the younger woman's cheek. "No regrets?" Michelle whispered softly. Agatha smirked and kissed Michelle with no hesitance. Michelle's eyes widened slightly before she grinned into the kiss.

"You'll be the death of me, Smith." Agatha whispered and pulled the girl closer.

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Keeping your eye on Agatha, You sat on the piles of leaves on the road. Keeping to yourself as Lilia and Jennifer spoke. All was fairly quiet but your mind was not. You thought of your conversation with Lilia. The older witch's questions about Agatha now becoming your own. You glanced at Alice and Teen. They were working hard to dig Mrs Hart a grave. You glanced in between the trees. The silence that hung between the group was... thick. Suddenly, you saw something small scurry through the grass off the road. It was dark, small and easy to miss. Your eyes flashed gold as you kept your attention trained on the little... creature. There was a shrill tiny squeaky laughter. It made you sneer. What was this little thing? It had sharp teeth and tiny eyes. Once it realised it had your attention, it waved it's little tooth pick dagger at you. As if daring you to make your move. Your throat rumbled. Each instinct made your body irk with the urge to kill it. Whatever it was.

Suddenly there was a figure beside you, you glanced over to see Agatha staring at you with a raised eyebrow. You looked back at where the little bugger once was only to find he was gone. Did you imagine it? Was it perhaps a trick of the witch's road? You hugged your knees and didn't speak. "You seemed to be getting touchy with Lilia?" She hummed amused. Touchy? You weren't being touchy. She was just over thinking it. When you didn't answer the older woman, she rolled her eyes and sat beside you. "I didn't do it, you know." she grumped and picked up a leaf. Her fingers slowly tearing the orange leaf apart. Feeling conflicted and confused, your green gaze turned to her. Giving her your attention fully. "I didn't kill her." You blinked at her words. The hurt in her tone. "I never would have killed..." She swallowed and glanced away.

Frowning, you took in a deep breath air. "I know." you whispered after a long moment of strangling silence. "If I thought you did, I wouldn't be here." Her gaze softened slightly and she smirked. "But.. I just... I'm angry. I deserve to know the truth, Agatha. And when I heard the rumours about the dark hold... about Nickie? About Michelle." At your words, Agatha's face went sour. She was hoping you wouldn't bring that up. "To me, you were everything. We were a family. But I am far from being that eight year old that I once was. I wont just follow you with blind devotion. I'm three hundred and twelve, Agatha." You said firmly. Agatha looked like she had been slapped. Well, This was awkward.

Agatha scowled before leaning in. Her face dangerously close to your ear. "You still need me." Agatha said bitterly, Almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact. Despite this she gave a goofy smile. You'd be dead if it wasn't for her. As her words lingered in the air, you decided it was not worth it to argue with Agatha. Not right now. Not when a woman had just died. Agatha stayed beside you, watching your thoughts twirl in your head. You took off your glasses an wiped them down. As you sat in silence, Agatha glanced you over before nudging you. "Come on. We've got a road to walk." She hummed. You followed Agatha like a defeated puppy as she led you close to the others as she flicked her flamboyant coat. "Well," She clasped her hands. "Shall we?" She smiled as them then gave you a little push forwards. When she realised no one was following she paused and raised an eyebrow. "So, what's the problem now?" She asked and approached Lilia and Jennifer. You eyed their grim expressions.

"A woman is dead, Agatha." Lilia said, her tone frustrated but you could hear how tired she was too.

Agatha looked her up and down. You glared lightly at the blue eyed witch. She acted as if we could just.. dance over Mrs Hart's death. "Yes, and Alice and teen are kindly digging a grave for her." She hummed with a smile. As if all this normal. "So, they'll catch up when they can. Vamonos!" she exclaimed and flicked her coat again and began to walk away. But just like the first time, no one moved. Agatha cringed and flicked her hair. "Mrs hart was a bad draft to pick. Okay? Of course the road killed her! More power for the rest of us!" she grinned smugly.

Jennifer scoffed and you could feel the tension bubbling. "Setting aside your staggering callousness, we still have the issue of our incomplete coven." She hissed.

You glanced at Agatha. Curious on how long she's keep her cool for. "Oh. Okay. Yes. Okay, now I know the confusion. We needed the whole gang to access the road. But after that? It's anyone's game." She explained calmly, as if explaining to a small minded child. Lilia's expression widened in shock. "It's like the ballad said. 'Burn and brew with coven two and glory shall be thine!'" Agatha quoted with a chuckle. But Jennifer glared at her and argued that she was wrong. Saying that it was true and not two. Agatha scoffed in a laugh. "No it doesn't!" She hissed like a child. "It's coven two!"

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!" Jennifer spat. You stared wide eyed as the two began to bicker like children in the playground.

Then, you heard it again. A tiny laugh. High pitched and easy to miss. Your head snapped in that direction. Your eyes flashing a golden colour. What was that? Where you the only one hearing it? Lilia's voice drew you from your state as you tried to ignore the sound. "Her mother recorded the most popular version of the balled. So, Maybe we should ask Alice?" She spoke logically. You attention turned to the younger woman. She simply shrugged. You breathed heavily. Great.

Alice glanced around the group then sighed. As the young woman turned to Agatha, The blue eyed witch raised an eyebrow. "How many witches left the road with you last time?" Alice asked as she approached the older witch. Agatha eyed Alice with slightly narrowed eyes before raising one finger. You swallowed and looked to the side. Suddenly something small and hard hit against the back of your head. You yelped slightly, drawing the attention of the coven. Your hand went to the back of your head as you turned around. What was that? Lilia eyed you for a moment.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Well, whatever. We still need a replacement green witch." She hummed with a twinkle in her eyes. "We would not have survived the last trial without my expertise." She stated. You scoffed. survived? Barely. A part of you whispered you should be thankful. Alice looked confused at Jennifer's smugness claiming that not everyone did survive the last trial. Jennifer looked offended. "Well, where were you when Mrs Hart needed protecting." She spat.

Wasting no time, Lilia approached the growing argument between the two. "According to my count, Mrs Hart drank two glasses of the poisoned wine..." She hummed in thought as she stood between the two. "How many doses of the antidote did she get, potions witch?" the older witch sassed and glared directly into Jennifer's gaze. "This is your fault." She hissed at the younger witch. Her tone clipped. Your eyes went wide as you glanced between the three. Wondering who would throw hands first. Agatha smirked, interested in the growing tension. Jennifer rolled her eyes. Before it could escalate further, Teen stepped forward claiming it was everyone's fault. Your brows furrowed. Hardly. You did nothing wrong. Teen ranted on about how it was a fatal mistake. You sighed and looked away. Poor Hart.

Then you heard it again. You scowled. This was getting repetitive and it wasn't to your liking. Not at all. You watched into the woodland. What was happening? Why was no one else hearing it? Seeing it? Were you imagining it? Without thinking, you stepped towards the sound. It brought you to the edge of the road and to the grass bank. You tilted your head. there was a stench. an awful stench. like rotten fruit. You twisted your nose at the smell. What the hell... The more you leaned closer, the more on edge you felt. Your pupils became thin slits and they glowed golden. "Minerva!" Flinching as your name was called, you looked back at the group. Agatha threw her arms up slightly. Almost as if questioning what you were doing. You opened your mouth then closed it again. Where you going mad? "Get out of your head, Minnie. We're going to summon a replacement green witch." You swallowed and went pale. Shit.

It didn't take long for things to be set in motion, standing in line with the other witches you held your breath slightly as Agatha began to speak in Latin. You gritted your teeth. What were you supposed to be doing again? You gave a subtle side down the line. Everyone was so focused. Oh, securing your intentions. Right, you could do it. You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes. Gripping the couple of leaves Agatha had given you with slight edge. Focusing your energy into the leaves. After Agatha had finished chanting, Lilia was the first to speak and put down her item. Requesting that the summoned green witch be strong, wise and the best at her craft.. good qualities. The older woman placed her item on the earth below. A few of the candles lit. She was followed by Agatha. "May she be smart... and not annoying." She bent over to place down her item. "Also not super political." She clicked then straightened before looking to you. Signalling you to get on with it.

You hummed a few decent enough qualities before setting your leaves down and then refocusing on the group. Jennifer stepped for ward and gave a confused smile. "May she be pleasant looking." Your eyes widened slightly and you nearly barked in laughter. Agatha rolled her eyes.

"Can she bring some Advil?" Alice asked and placed her item down. Lilia groaned, slightly frustrated. You were about to smirk but stopped it by making your mouth thin and squeezing your lips together. Agatha began to chant in Latin once more and your followed the groups action and placed both of your hands in front of you. The wind picked up, the candles went out and then.... nothing. You raised an eyebrow. That's it? Where was your green witch? As if sharing a mind, Teen questioned what the group was to do next.

"Now, we wait." Lilia began. "True witchcraft takes time... the spell must marinate." You glance at the curly haired witch as she spoke softly. "Gestate." She continued after a short moment of silence. You took in a deep breath. Waiting. How fun. Staring at the ground, you huffed. Not even a few seconds later a loud crack came from behind you. You yelped as you felt Alice jump onto one side as Lilia jumped on to the other. You looked behind you to see an arm burst out of Mrs Hart's grave. As the muddy figure burst from the grave, you gasped. Utterly horrified. As the figure ascended you gripped the two women tighter. Lilia wasted no time scourging through teen's small spell book. "Why is the print so small!?" She cried. You cringed as the figure finally straightened. Bones returning into place. Oh god.

You looked to Agatha. Rio, the woman just out of the ground, gave a foolish smile. "Heard you guys were having a party." She puffed, slightly out of breath. You stared in disbelief. You never really wanted to see Rio again. Well, you didn't exactly want to see Agatha again yet here you were. Agatha look appalled by the sight of her past lover. She went to question the green witch but that was short lived because Rio was quick to get a word in. "I was in the neighbour hood!" Rio smirked smugly as she approached the group. Stopping right in front of Agatha, the brown eyed green witch bowed slightly and a flower appeared in her palm. A gift for Agatha. "Surprise... My lady." Rio grinned and her eyes lit up the more she stared at Agatha. Agatha on the other hand looked ready to blow. She scream in complete rage and tried to strike Rio across the face. The group intervened. Jennifer caught Agatha's arm in the Knick of time. Agatha straightened up and glared furiously at Rio.

She cleared her throat and turned her back on the group. "Minerva!" She snapped as she began to stride off in the distance. You swallowed and straightened up. Following after the angered woman. "Lead the way." She hissed. As you passed the older woman, you stared her in the eye and gave a sharp look. Her blue eyes softened a fraction but she waved you on. Flicking her hair, Agatha followed. As you walked glanced behind, You noticed the group was now following. That was good. You noticed Lilia looked more frightened and uncomfortable then what you remembered. Her eyes wondering over to Rio occasionally. You continued onwards taking each twist and turn with glowing eyes trained on the guiding smoke. Three winding paths appeared. but what one to take? You were about to continue when you heard a shrill laughter. you tensed and your eye twitched. taking your hands out of your pocked, you hissed. your claws on display. Noticing you alert demeanour, Jennifer eyed you. "What is she doing?" She hissed her question. "She's been acting weird this whole time!" Lilia's brows furrowed as she watched your behaviour. She had only ever known one transformation witch her whole life. She had seen this before and the end result was never good.

Agatha rolled her eyes tried to approach. "Mins, stop whatever your doing and focus." Agatha groaned, frustrated. You twitched again. Your thin slit eyes scanned the three paths. Then, you spotted it. You lowered slightly. Agatha's brows tightened and she approached you with cation. "Minerva." She frowned as she reached out her hand. Your body shivered and in seconds you turned on your heal, claws made contact with flesh. Jennifer gasped. Agatha pulled back and clutched her wrist. Her mouth fell open and for the first time in years, she felt shocked that you were not how she remembered. Not a little girl she could comfort and it... hurt her. She went silent as Rio giggled. Agatha felt herself still as she watched your nose twitch. Teen ran to Agatha's side and asked about the scratch mark. Meanwhile, You kept focused on the small figures. One threw another tiny dagger at you. You gritted your teeth and shifted into a small tabby cat, chasing the little demons off the path. Agatha panicked slightly and called your name while holding her wrist. She watched as your small form ran off into the distance. "Fine! Go be a filthy animal for all I care!" Agatha screamed after you then threw her hands up in the air, frustrated by the turn of events.

"We need to go after her." Alice cried.

Jennifer scoffed. There was no way that she was going through thick and thin just to catch a cat. Agatha straightened up and sighed. "That's all well and good but can't you see the three twisting roads. Not to be a buzz kill but we have no idea what to pick? So how are gonna find a small cat without getting ourselves further lost?" Jennifer asked as she put her hands up in defence. The group turned to look into the woods. "Is it really worth it?"

Lilia glared and kept eye contact with the taller woman. "Of course it is." She said as if it were obvious. She looked out into the distance. Between the tree. Wondering where the hell you had gone. What the hell you had seen. Why run off so suddenly? "We can not follow the road without her. Not without there being a consequence." Lilia argued on your behalf. Agatha stayed forward. Glaring at where you had once been. Rio glanced between Jennifer and Lilia. Curious to their argument. Agatha cleared her throat.

"We could all go down a path each?" Rio hummed drawing the attention of the group. Jennifer raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. Agatha nodded to herself. Wondering if it could be a trap. She sighed. What other choice was there? She took a step towards the middle path. Lilia stepped behind her as if almost hesitant to follow the purple witch. Teen and Alice took the path to the left while Rio and Jennifer took the path to the right. Taking in a deep breath, Lilia glanced at the group. "Boo!" Rio cackled behind Jennifer making her yelp. And with that, they continued on.

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Your paws were burning. Panting, you chased after the little demons while your ears flicked. The little goblin like creatures cackled as you chased them. You stumbled as you jumped over a fallen log. Your tail flicked as you hissed and your claws gripped into the dirt. What happened? Where did it go? Sniffing the air, your golden eyes scanned the area. You hissed in pain as something stabbed into your back paw. You turned in seconds and caught the small little body in your jaws. Tilting your head at your catch, you bit down harder, ignoring its squealing. Green blood dripped into your mouth as the Goblin in your sharp jaws stilled. You sat down and took a moment to catch your breath. The fog in your mind clearing, you tensed. What the hell were you doing? You dropped the dead little shite and scanned the area. Where was the group? What happened?

Sniffing the goblin your cringed and pulled back quick. It was revolting. It was small grey and fat. You tilted your head and nudged the goblin. It's face was clearly disfigured. Unmoving. Your ears went flat against your head. Time to find your way back.. Wherever back was? As you stood, you began to walk onwards. Yet. something felt wrong. Prancing slightly you tried not to panic. Your thought ran away with you. You sighed to yourself and stretched. Calm. You need to calm. Birds made noise and the wind rustled the trees. Making your body alert to every sound and movement. Then you saw another with a tiny boy and arrow and just like magic... your mind became foggy once more and your eyes became thin slits..... Fuck.

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Agatha kept her head high as Lilia trailed behind her. Lilia's eyes scanned the trees. The tension rising between the two was fairly awkward. The silence seemed like it was ever lasting and clearly wasn't disappearing soon. Agatha kept flicking her hair as they walked. "You appear to know Minerva well?" Lilia strained, unable to bare the silence any longer. Agatha's eyes narrowed in an instant. What did this witch want with you? You weren't someone a witch such as Lilia should concern herself with. Agatha was all you needed. Not Lilia.

Huffing as they walked Agatha rolled her eyes. "I have known Minerva since she first came to America with her older sister." Her tongue clicked as she explained her relation with you to the older woman. Lilia nodded to herself as she listened to Agatha's clipped tone. Lilia decided to not question further. Thinking it was better to focus on the path ahead. As they walked, Agatha smiled to herself as she thought about the memories with you. "When she was younger, she had a knack for transforming near by objects into other things such as... butterflies. An odd ball. Like her sister." Agatha whispered as she thought of Michelle. Her eyes softening immensely. Just as quickly, she cleared her throat and carried on. Lilia paused, watching the range of emotions that crossed Agatha's face.

As they walked, Lilia took notice of how quiet and peaceful the road appeared. Her forehead creased. It was almost unnerving how peaceful things were. A twig snapped and Lilia yelped, gripping onto Agatha's arm. Agatha flinched and raised an eyebrow. Agatha shook the older woman off but then paused when she too heard another twig snap. Her head turned in the direction of the noise. "What was that?" Lilia asked, caution in her tone. Agatha tensed and the two stayed attached at the hip. Agatha growled under her breath. "There!" Lilia gasped and pointed a finger amongst the trees. Agatha followed Lilia's point and gasped gently. A deer. A doe. White as snow with golden hooves and a nose. The doe's ears moved as she watched the two witches with a slightly tilted head. Her eyes were a baby blue, full of innocence and curiosity. She was magical to gaze upon.

The doe sniffed the air and slowly walked towards the two witches. "Don't move." Agatha hissed at the older woman. The young doe was so close. Almost too close. She tilted her thin head and nuzzled into Agatha's palm. Agatha flinched and remained unmoving. Lilia was as Agatha's face twisted. "What the hell is it doing?" She mumbled under her breath.

Lilia grinned slightly while she suppressed a laugh of pure amazement and stroked the doe's neck. "She trusts you..." Her dark brown eyes softened as she watched the scene. Maybe there was good in Agatha Harkness after all just buried... deep... deep deep below. The deer then pranced off into the distance. Leaving the two witches behind. "I wonder How the others are getting on." Lilia hummed and continued to walk the path, feeling more safe. As they reached the end of the path, Lilia raised an eyebrow? That was it? They were completely safe? Lilia breathed out a sigh of relief. Then she noticed that all three paths faded into one. How perfect. But then where were the others. Lilia frowned.

Sitting down on a fallen log, Lilia sighed. Agatha kept her distance and glanced around. Within second, Alice and Teen stumbled out from a side path. "You okay?" Alice asked, covered in ash and gasping for air. Teen looked exhausted. Agatha raised an eyebrow at his defeated demeanour. Lilia nodded, concern draped over her face for the young protection witch.

"SHE JUST TRIED TO KILL ME!" Jennifer practically cried as she ran out of the wooded area, covered head to toe in dirt. Rio rolled her eyes.

"Shouldn't have tried to run." Rio grumbled and rolled her eye once more. "It would have made this trip more fun." she huffed and sat down. Agatha narrowed her eyes at the green witch then bit the inside of her cheeks. Where were you? What if something happened to you? Agatha was so deep in thought that she didn't even hear Rio call her name. After all, you were small. Practically a kitten! "Agatha." Rio said seriously, finally drawing her attention. Agatha looked back and frowned, frustrated by her calling her name. "Look." Rio hummed as she pointed her knife into the woods.

Agatha narrowed her eyes and followed where Rio had pointed her knife. "OH MY GOD-!" She yelled as she made eye contact with an angry looking grey creature from hell. The group panicked as more little goblins began to appear. Lilia swallowed and Alice gripped her hand. Just then, thousands of tiny little sharp objects were flung at the group making them squeal and yell. The little tiny goblins closed in, running around the coven and wrapping them in layers upon layers of vine. "JUST STAMP ON THEM!" Agatha screamed but failed as suddenly she fell flat on her back, all caught up in vines. A goblin, that was a little larger then the rest, grumbled as it stepped forward. The stench coming from it made Agatha cough. It sat on her chest. ignoring her struggle. A few other small goblins held her down by the shoulders. the group watched in horror. What the hell was going on?

The stinky ugly 'leader' of the goblins covered Agatha's nose making her gasp a breath in but it was a fatal mistake. The goblin put its disfigured face closer to hers. It began to... suck in her breath? Rio's eye twitched and stormed over and kicked the goblin. Sending it flying into a tree. The goblins hissed at Rio and jumped onto her, pulling her hair while separating her from the group. Rio hissed back and tried to throw them off her. Alice scrambled over to Agatha and ripped the vines before pulling her back to the group. "OH HELL NO." Jennifer screamed in terror. Lilia kicked one away and grabbed onto Teen for support.

Suddenly, all the goblins stilled there attacks. You, in your cat form, came from the trees and landed in front of them. Lilia's eyes widened. You were back! And you were covered in... green stuff. Making your fur look sticky and matted. The goblins looked like they were starting to panic As they began to scurry to the sides slightly. You transformed back into a woman as your bones cracked back into place. Jennifer cringed as she saw your transformation. You swallowed thickly as crushed a goblin under your foot, hissing at the others in a warning. Green goo oozed out of the tiny creature. Lilia looked you up and down as it clicked in her brain. That green stuff was... blood. and you were covered in it.... You turned to the others and with a wave of your hand they turned into.... toadstools.... mushrooms. Lilia gasped and her eyes lit up slightly the more she stared as you in this state. Her heart was slamming against her chest and her cheeks felt warmer then usual. What was going on?

You flexed your hands and removed some hair from your face while you made eye contact with the divination witch. "Soul suckers." You grinned with slight annoyance and began to squish all the toadstools. "Nasty little buggers and a pain in my backside." You hummed. Lilia watched in shock and as she did, Agatha turned her attention to her. Blue eyes glaring daggers at the older woman. As if daring her thoughts to run away with her. On the other hand, Jennifer wasted no time in aiding you in crushing all of the mushrooms.

"I always hated fungi." She hissed aggressively.

Lilia's mouth opened briefly before closing it tightly. What would she even say? You took in a deep breath and approached her. Teen glanced between the two of you and smirked like a fool then walked off. Giving the two of you peace for a moment. "You gave us a scare." Lilia managed to whisper out. You smirked gently at her words. Agatha, However, was not having it, she walked towards the two of you and placed herself straight in the middle.

"You always did have the cat's eye, Mins. Seeing things that we witches cant until its too late!" Agatha hummed and flicked her hair back. "Now let's continue on the road, yes?" She said almost desperately and guided you away from the divination witch. "We can't have any more.... distractions." She hissed at Lilia and turned you completely away from her. Lilia's lips became thin. Damn her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Agatha the professional cockblocker.

I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! Hopefully it lives up. Idk why this chapter sounded so much better in my head. What are you theories, darlings! Tell me everything!! I'm always reading the comments and looking for your thoughts and taking them into account and they help a lot with motivation. I honestly cant wait to read them!

Lot's of love and I hope to see you in the next chapter! 💜

(Remember to continue to thank and praise Patti Lupone in our prayers)

#lilia calderu #agatha all along #lilia calderu x reader #patti lupone #witches #agatha harkness #fanfiction #alice wu gulliver #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #rio vidal #jenifer kale

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sashi-ya · 1 year ago

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東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑰'𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ okkotsu yuuta x fem! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. some years have passed since the incident; he moved overseas, you stayed... however, you never forgot, and you always waited

requested by: Anon ➡ hi sash, I saw you love Yuta so can I ask for our sweet boy with a fem! reader and the prompt "meet me at Hachiko statue in 3 yeas"? thank you! tw: sfw. sweet, romantic. fluffy. based on Hachiko's and his story. there might be a second part of this story, with 18+ cont. You can tell me if you want me to post it ~ wc: 1.4k masterlist

“Meet me three years from now at the Hachiko Statue” “Shibuya? Again?”

Three years have passed, the incident left your hearts barely hanging from the tiny strings of an undeveloped love.

Waiting, day after day. Night after night.

A light rain plays a soft melody against the transparent surface of your umbrella. Your lips tremble, even if you fight for your façade to look as serious as possible. The doors of the subway station feel like the holy tori of a sanctuary; after all that happened some years ago, looking at the “to Shibuya” signs still makes you dizzy.

You watch youngsters coming back from school, other enjoying themselves as they probably get ready to visit karaoke bars tonight. And you remember that you used to be exactly the same as them… even if from the corner of your eye, creatures of many different types appeared to make you late.

This time, however, there was no creature. No curse. No ghost. But only the feeling of what once happened there. How many of you have lost much more than what you could remember…

You check your phone; no message from Okkotsu still. Will he be there? At least, is he in Tokyo at all?

You swallow and swipe the card on the ticket gate; the “beep” allows you to keep walking, but the sound of your heart beating fast covers it all. Soon enough, the subway train arrives perfectly in time, and letting other people go in first, you find a seat waiting just for you.

Once again, you check your phone. Nothing.

“He is not coming, why am I doing this? he probably forgot about me and this, and I can’t blame him…”

Sweaty palms make your phone get steam marks on its screen, but you don’t mind. Your leg bounces softly, the music in your earphones have absolutely no importance to you right now.

You close your eyes, wondering how he looks like now. Does he still have those dark beautiful circles under his eyes? The little reddish hint that always made him look as he had just stopped crying? The blackest messy hair, or maybe his narrow frame… “I just hope you haven’t forget about me, even if you don’t come”

It takes very little for the subway to finally reach Shibuya station. Or maybe it was just you lost in time, that you didn’t notice.

As you walk up the stairs of infinite steps, you begin to feel the soft breeze of the busiest crosswalk in the world. It cools off your cheeks, already burning because Yuuta has always been your secret crush.

The rain has stopped, and there are just some pools on the ground reflecting the neon lights of the newly reconstructed Shibuya… this place used to look a lot different a few years ago.

The beat of the traffic lights sounds synchronize with your heart beating; the laughter of young people, the imagery of couples joining after work, the memories of painful and bloody happenings… everything surrounds you, turning your quivering legs a lot more weak than before.

You check your phone one last time before crossing; you need to get to the statue of Hachiko. That was your meeting point. Such a curious choice you had; Hachiko waited for his owner at the station until he died, because he knew one day he would come back…

As you cross, your eyes scan for the place. Looking at the faces of every man you could find, your disappointment grows bigger and bigger. None of them are him; none of them will be either.

You decide to wait for 10 minutes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

A few tourists stop you once you get to the statue, distracting you. They need to know their way to a certain restaurant, so you take your time to help them. But when they are finally gone, you are back to your loneliness.

“I’m going to check my phone one last time…” you think; unblocking your device. Nothing; again. “Yes, you are not coming… I hope you are fine, Yuuta” you whisper, low enough just for you to hear it.

With your head lowered, defeated, you begin to walk away. The rain has started to fall again, but you don’t even care to open your umbrella. It’s ok if your hair gets wet. It’s ok if your make up fades.

You wait at the traffic light to turn to green, you only want to hop on the station of your nightmares to go back home. Once and for all.

As the mass begins to move, and you put a foot on the street, something catches your attention.

A big bouquet of purple flowers covers the face of a tall man asking to forgive him while he opens his way through the crowd.

“Ah… lucky girl. Late but at least with such a big bouquet…” you smile, with your eyes turning a little shiny from incipient tears.

“(Name)!!” he screams, the moment that flower man reaches you. He bumps into you with the flowers, and he has yelled your name. You blink repeatedly, only looking at the hand holding the bouquet. A silver ring shines on his hand, and it makes you shiver…

There, right in the middle of Shibuya cross, under now a pouring rain, the shy face of a man sprouts from in between beautiful purple flowers.

“(Name)! My flight was delayed, but I wanted to buy you this before I came. I’m sorry, I am so happy you didn’t leave” he chimes, with a soft smile that hasn’t changed. He is a man now, stronger, taller, mature… but Yuuta is still the softest little boy you once met at the academy.

Your lower lip shakes like a leaf, and the tears start going down your cheeks. Maybe the rest won’t notice because of the rain, but Yuuta does. You can’t speak, no words come out of your mouth.

Violently crying now, you let yourself fall into his arms. The bouquet hangs from his hand to the side, while you nuzzle on the crook of his neck.

“(Name), don’t cry! I am here! are you ok?!!” he desperately asks, hugging you hard against his chest.

You sniffle and nod, inhaling his sweet perfume. Another thing that hasn’t changed a bit; his skin scent has always been the same. Even if the times you were able to enjoy it were barely twice, you can’t forget it.

“I… I thought you had forgotten” you murmur, as both walk hugging back to the sidewalk.

“Wh-what? I’ve been counting the days to see you again” he whispers, with his lips resting on the crown of your head. “How could I forget? I missed you so much”

You look up searching for his eyes, a sweet beam garnishes your face. He still has those dark circles; he still has that enchanting pouty lips. “You haven’t changed a bit, Yuta…” you whisper, allowing the warmth of his embrace to protect you from anything around.

He giggles, that pure laughter that makes you melt. “And here I thought I was getting older… you did, however, change (Name)…” he says, kissing your forehead after.

You gasp, the old Yuuta would have had a stroke before even kissing you. Or at least his cheeks would have become as red as tomatoes – to say the least.

“You look even more beautiful than before” he finishes, leaving you absolutely breathless.

You swiftly look around him; you don’t want to get killed by Rika. Once you positively check you are safe, you stretch your neck to reach for his lips.

Your mouth lingers closer to his, so close they can even touch but not quite yet. The warmth of his breath caressing your lips, yours doing the same thing to his. Maybe you just wait for him to kiss you, or maybe both want to enjoy the little previous moments of something that you’ve been waiting even before than you two met for the very first time.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, taking his hand to your cheek. The soft caress, the cold touch of the ring grazing your skin… please do…

You nod, pouting just enough to meet his crashing lips. Both closed your eyes just when your eyes could see into each other’s, just when it was time to feel rather than see…

Your first kiss, and then another, and another. And the tourists taking pictures, because what’s more beautiful than a couple joining after years right by the statue of Hachiko who waited only moved by pure love? 💖

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #jjk

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beastsovrevelation · 10 months ago

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Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.

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dollwrites · 2 years ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — 𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dark fic, noncon, fear kink, graphic depictions of death and gore, chasing, manhandling, threats against reader, degradation, virgin!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), size kink, blackout mention, Dio is very mean, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sugar on my tongue by the talking heads

you could hear his laugh— evil and taunting— booming through the abysmal corridor behind you, and the hissing and snarling of his undead army that was also in hot pursuit. “Where are you running off to, hmm?” he calls, and the baritone surrounds you. he’s not everywhere, you try to tell yourself, it’s just the echoes. “I won’t let you leave the castle grounds. However, by all means, go on and try, get your sweet blood pumping!” another morbid laugh like distant thunder, and you take the first new hallway that opens up to the left. “I can smell it from here, that lovely smell will lead me straight to you.”

you’d made a mistake coming here so late at night, with a boy you hardly even knew. you’d kissed him, and let him loosen your corset, even though you felt uneasy. even though you’d never kissed a boy before. even though the whole night felt wrong. then, the laughter started. from somewhere deep in the blackest shadows, a predator stalked, watched, and found amusement in your innocent fumbling and uncertainty, and stepped into the light. he named himself Dio right before he ripped the boy in half right in front of you. some of his blood was still seeping into the cotton of your dress. what he hadn’t seen, however, was the jagged stone you’d hidden underneath your skirt, clutching it tight in the palm of your fragile hand. so, whenever he scooped you into his arms, and leaned in to taunt you, or perhaps even kiss you, you’d swung the rock as hard as you could, making direct contact with his sculpted cheekbone, breaking the skin. it wasn’t much, but it was enough for his grip to loosen enough so that you could slip through his arms and run.

you were panting, your lungs burning in your chest, your eyes puffy and sore from crying. but one glance over your shoulder yielded the confirmation; the reason you couldn’t stop— hundreds of ghouls had crammed themselves into the hallway, some staggering after you, others chasing you on all fours. you turn your eyes forward again, ignoring the hem of your skirt that catches on a dilapidated and unrecognizable statue, ripping a slit all the way up to your thigh, and both hands hit a sturdy door when you hit the dead end of the corridor, slamming yourself into it with a pathetic huff. luckily, the door, like the rest of the manor, is old and crumbling, and it whines as it flies open and you stumble over the threshold, only to let out a blood curdling scream.

inches from your feet is a pile of innards, and what could’ve been a corpse at one time, but has since been devoured, piece by piece, by the monsters squatting down over it. they both look up and growl, clumps of half-eaten human flying from their bloodied mouths as you stumble back. you wanted to collapse, but didn’t have the time.

countless pairs of gruesome hands snatched at you, dragging you into a horde of them. you wailed and fought against them, half expecting to be shredded, too. you weren’t, however you could hear — and feel — your dress tearing as they snatched at you. your neckline ripped, one sleeve hanging loosely against your arm and the other chunk of fabric lost in the sea of rotting bodies as they tossed you back and forth. your throat is hoarse from screaming when you’re finally spit out the opposite end of the crowd, and flung right into Dio’s arms, which welcome you with a tight grip on one wrist and the other palm splayed over your midriff, pulling your back to his solid frame. “No!” you cry out, but he’s already twisting your wrist.

“Now, now,” he croons against your neck, wringing your wrist until the blood-stained stone falls from your grip and clatters against the floor, “listen to that heart thumping.” you felt sick to your stomach when you realized he could hear it. “Fragile, little thing is about to beat right out of your chest.” you squirm, trying desperately to pull away from him, but his lips have sought out the cuts on your palm, turning it over to expose them to his mouth. first, they graze over the wounds, and you wince. “You’re about as nervous and dangerous as a newborn kitten.” his tongue slithers out to prod at the scratches, urging more blood to the surface, and he smirks as he tastes it. his lips then travel, parted and dragging over your skin, up your arm, ignoring the sleeve that hangs in tatters, and he presses you back into him tighter when he reaches your throat. “So soft— I could rip your jugular out with one bite.”

“P—please—“ you rasp, the tips of his fangs tingling against your hypersensitive flesh.

“Such a meek, little plea,” he teases, the expanse of his massive hand careening upwards over your breast to rest against your heartbeat, his digit tips just barely touching your chin, “what are you begging for, kitten?” he allows their sharpness to scrape, and you whimper, melting against him and hoping to become so small he couldn’t reach you. it was impossible, as his face was buried in your neck already, but you tried nonetheless.

“I—I don’t want to die…”

he laughs at this, as does his minions, and you feel a burning humiliation creep upon your cheeks. “No? Are you afraid of dying?” he asks, feigning sympathy, and his fingers take hold of your face. he angles it towards him, and your tear-filled gems look up at his stone-cold countenance. you nod, the scratch on his cheek was healing as you watched, and your mountainous captor stared down at you. the crown of your head is pressed against his chest; you were just so damn small compared to him. “Are you afraid of me?” another nod, and his crimson eyes flicker over your petrified expression. you couldn’t catch your breath— your lips parted and hot puffs of air wheezing out, your chest rising and falling beneath the stretched fabric of what was left of your neckline. you avoided looking into his eyes, but you could tell he was drinking in every inch of you. “Smart decision for a very stupid girl.” he replies, dipping his head towards you. you start to pull away, recoil, but his grip on your cheeks hold you in place. that devious tongue of his skirts along his lower lip, tasting your broken breath as it lands on his tiers. then, his carmine eyes flicker up to yours, and his smile widens, “Tell me that you fear me.”

you couldn’t even think— you were staring, wide eyed and horrified into two, piercing rubies. he wanted to hear how scared you were, he wanted you to say it out loud, but there was a lump so big and dry in your throat that you didn’t think you could force the words past it.

“Come now, don’t keep me waiting.”

you gasp when he squeezes your cheeks together hard, forcing your lower lip to poke out in a childish pout, and you acquiesce to his will. “I’m afraid,” you whisper, each syllable hard pressed to slip into the air, “I’m— I’m afraid of you—“

Dio chortles, closing what was left of a gap between he and you, and his tongue ran along the shape of your lips. you flinch, and seal them tight, but he’d already gotten his taste. “Mm…” he moans, more to himself, and runs his tastebuds over his own mouth, and then flicks at his fangs. “I do love the taste of fear on those pretty lips, like sugar…” he croons and places a sloppy kiss on your mouth. regardless of how you wanted to reject it, he forces your lips to fit against his with a hard push, opening them wide so that he may shove his tongue inside. you squeal in protest against his mouth, wriggling and desperate to get free, but his strength too greatly outweighed your own. your own tongue bunches up in resistance, trying to push his out of your mouth, but you start to gag on it. you considered biting down on his, biting it off even, but ultimately decided against it.

you were in no position to fight back anymore.

when he’s drank his fill of your kiss, he pulls back, the lips that have battered your own dripping and shiny with your saliva and stretched over deadly fangs, and you pant, twisting in his grip. he watches you for a moment, amused. “I would wager you taste just as sweet everywhere, don’t you?” you shook your head, cheeks on fire and eyes closed tightly, pulling in the opposite direction, but his hand drops, grabbing the neckline of your dress in a powerful fist and tearing it with a swift yank. the force is enough to arch your back, the fabric screaming, and then your breasts are bare and exposed, rising with heavy, nervous breaths.

there’s a whooping from the horde of undead as they crowd closer around, licking and biting at the air as if they can taste your fear in it, and you recoil away from them, pushing you deeper into Dio’s wicked embrace, which wasn’t ideal, either.

“Look at this,” he purrs, sharp nails dragging over your otherwise unmarked skin. they trace his name, slowly, as he takes in your visage, “skin so fresh and supple.” his eyes twinkle, pure malevolence behind them as the tip of his nail traces your nipple, watching it harden as he does. “I could think of a hundred different ways to paint you crimson, my dear.” you shake your head, whimpering in soft protest, and he cocks his head to the side, “What? You don’t think red would look so pretty on you? The color of roses?” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your tender breast and squeezing until you mewl and sag into the rough treatment, “Timid, little thing, aren’t you? Frightened so easily.” his head dips, tongue dragging along your nipple, and when you gasped, your thighs clamping together to stop the feeling of his teasing flooding your core, he reads you like an open book. “I think you like this.” you start to shake your head yet again, but his hand has already abandoned your chest, hiking your skirt up to feel between your thighs. they were slick with sweat and… something else. your desire and shame. “You’re dripping, kitten. Do you enjoy my teasing that much?”

your thighs press harder into each other, but his fingers work to pry them apart, slipping in between to feel your bare sex. you choke back a gasp, your only free hand grasping at his wrist trying to pull it from your core as you jerk against his rubbing, but it was as effective as an ant trying to push a thumb away before it’s crushed beneath the force. “N—no…” but, much to your own dismay, you were soaking his fingertips and he was howling with amusement.

“Well, now, isn’t this cunt just so sensitive— I’ve hardly even touched you, and you’re all jitters already. Could I have caught a little virgin in my web?” humiliation floods your eyes, and you close them tight, turning your face away from him and digging your chin into your shoulder. he coos, leaning close enough for you to feel the chill or his skin against your cheek, and the ghastly drag of his lips as he spoke, “Good. The first and only cock you’ll ever wrap around will be Dio’s, your new master.”

“…I want to wake up…” you beg under your breath. surely, this had to be a terrible nightmare. so you kept biting down on your lip and repeating it. “I want… to wake up…”

“Eh?” he asks, grinning, “Stupid thing thinks she’s dreaming.” a wave of vicious cackling rolls through the corridor, and you shudder. a moment later, you feel him shifting, dropping to his knees in front of you. cautiously, you crack one eyelid and look down to see him ripping what was left of your skirt aside. there’s a flurry of cotton before it all settles on the floor. you shiver, stumbling back. Dio releases your wrist and grasps one ankle, hiking it up on to his shoulder. it threw your balance completely off; even on his knees, the man before you was still monstrous, and you were forced to stand on the tip toes of the opposite foot to stay upright. “Let’s find out if fear makes your cunt as sweet as your lips.”

both eyes opened wide, but you had no time to react before he was smashing his face against your sex, the bridge of his nose creating a solid cradle for your aching clit, and the thick muscle hiding in his mouth wiggled between your netherlips, gathering the taste of your essence on to his tastebuds. he growled, and the sound vibrated against you, sending every nerve into overdrive. both your hands dig into his golden locks, pulling hard to attempt to force his head back, but the scratching and scrambling didn’t phase him one bit. he didn’t budge, instead he laughed, then his words were slurred against you. “Don’t be so ungrateful,” his eyes glint in the dusky moonlight pouring through a broken window, and it seems so shameful and sinful to look down your naked torso at him. you could see the muscles in your own tummy contract when he nuzzled against your clit, and you clamped one hand over your mouth to keep your moans quiet. crying out for how good it felt would only make this all too real— and would give him the satisfaction of knowing that you couldn’t control it. “Your new god is on his knees for you, lapping at your trembling pussy. You should be singing my praises.” none too gently, he snags your clit with his teeth, creating a vice around it and rolling his tongue over the nub.

you bleat, and your knees buckle— the sole leg holding you up giving out. but Dio doesn’t let you crumble. with one hand fleeing, he wraps a massive fist around your throat to hold you in place, the furious muscles of his gargantuan arm hard and bulging against your torso. the pressure is enough to startle you, even though he doesn’t squeeze. you imagine the beast of a man could break your neck with little effort. this new grip occupies your mind, and your hands try to wrap themselves around his wrist instead, but it’s even too big for your fingertips to meet.

“You are a pathetic little kitty cat, aren’t you?” he teases, suckling on your clit until you see stars behind your eyelids, and your toes are curling, “You can’t even stand up on your own anymore. Just a few, easy flicks of my tongue and you’re putty in my hands. Makes my cock hard watching you lose this fight, knowing you know you’re fucked.”

you don’t want him to be right, but when he punctuates his statement by licking a fat stripe between your netherlips, you cry out, and your nails dig into his tough flesh. “Please!! Ha— have mercy…”

“Go on,” he urges, “cry for mercy. Scream for me. It won’t change a thing. You belong to me, now, and I’m going to break you in every way possible, starting with tongue fucking never ending orgasms out of your delicate, little body until it gives out. You’ll black out, and wake up to my big cock stretching you open.”

#dio brando x you #dio #dio brando #dio x reader #dio x you #dio smut #dio brando x reader #dio brando smut #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #jjba imagine #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo x you #jojo’s bizarre adventure x you #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

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Unsatisfied, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: Following the epilogue to Unwanted, you and Bucky finally have your first night together in your new apartment. You haven't had sex with him in an entire year. You are feeling... unsatisfied.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, mentions of past trauma, Pocket has a panic attack, she is not as okay as I thought, Cards Against Humanity, Bucky making dirty promises I fully intend for him to keep.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My goal tonight was to work on WFLT. I had good intentions, I swear. But, I can't get Bucky and Pocket out of my mind. THEN, this was supposed to be smut. Pure, filthy smut. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

You loved your found family, you really did. Or, at least that’s what you kept reminding yourself as you actively tried to convince yourself not to kill them right this second.

You made eye contact with Bucky from where he sat on the loveseat across the living room from you, looking about as sexually frustrated as you felt. You ran a finger delicately along your collarbone as you watched him adjust himself in his seat, and as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, you–

“Hey, Kiddo,” Tony Stark called your attention to where he sat to the left of you. “Pick a Black Card. It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, you drew your eyes away from your ridiculously attractive boyfriend and up to your psuedo-brother, former boss, who thought it had been a fantastic idea to have your entire team show up with pizzas to your brand new apartment, on your very first night there with Bucky, in order to play fucking Cards Against Humanity as a “morale-boosting exercise.”

Cock-blocking exercise was more like it.

You shot Tony a glare and reached across the coffee table to draw a card. Looking at it, you rolled your eyes in frustration before placing it face-up in front of you. “What gets me wet?” you read aloud from the card.

You were met with a room full of snickering as your teammates thumbed through their hands, searching for the best card to give to you. Bucky threw down a card almost immediately, catching your eye as he did so and winking at you. God, you needed everyone to leave so you could climb that man like a tree.

One by one, your team deposited their White Cards into a pile in front of you, and once everyone had played their hand, you picked them up, shuffling them around so you wouldn’t know who had put down what card.

You turned each over and read it aloud, asking each time: “What gets me wet?”

“Being a mother fucking sorcerer; Vehicular manslaughter; German Dungeon Porn; My fuckslave, Regianald; Auschwitz– ew; come on guys, really?-- My vagina– okay, actually factual– Dick Fingers; A juicy little booty that goes poot poot pooty; The Biggest, Blackest Dick– hilarious, Sam…”

“What?! You can’t know that’s mine, Baby Girl!” You shot Sam a knowing look. “Yeah, okay, it’s mine, but come on– it’s a good one!” he said with a laugh.

And then, there it was, the winner. You looked up and locked eyes with Bucky, who was smirking back at you with a wicked glint in his eye, and you knew instantly it was his card you were holding in your hand.

Flipping the card over, you read out loud with a giant smile on your face: “What gets me wet? Genetically engineered super soldiers.” Everyone around the coffee table groaned, knowing that there was no way any of their cards would have topped that. Not for you, anyway.

With a grin, Bucky reached over and took the Black Card, adding it to the pile of his wins in front of him.

“Ugh, no fair!” Nat pouted, gently tossing her hand of cards on the top of the coffee table.

“You gotta play to your audience, Nat,” Bucky said, spreading his legs as he leaned back on the love seat. “Can’t help it if I know what my girl likes.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re cheating,” Sam said. His words were meant to be playful, a sore-loser’s teasing lament, but you couldn’t help the rush of heartache those little syllables sent through your system, and your body froze.

It had been almost a year, you thought to yourself as you tried to breathe through your increasing anxiety without attracting unnecessary attention. A year of therapy and rebuilding trust. You were meant to be over this.

But clearly you weren’t.

“Excuse me,” you blurted out as you stood up, not bothering to offer an excuse for your rudeness or sudden departure. Trying to keep your breathing steady, you nearly sprinted out of the room and up the stairs until you were shutting the door of the ensuite bath in yours and Bucky’s master bedroom. The room you hadn’t even shared together yet, and now, on your first night in your new home, when you should be celebrating, becoming reacquainted with one another’s bodies, it would be permeated with thoughts of her.

You slid down the door to the cold tile floor, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to shake the memories from your mind’s eye. But they, and your tears, began to fall in earnest. Despite what you knew to be true– that Bucky loved you, had only ever loved you, your mind kept bringing you back to the events of last year– of all the times he abandoned you for her, left you alone when she needed him. The things he had said to you while he was inside of you because she had told him she liked it. The sight of her riding his dick in a derelict safehouse in Russia. Your bones snapping and a bullet ripping through your flesh.

You couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t you breathe?

You shoved your fist into your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. You were supposed to be over this, you kept reminding yourself. You were supposed to have forgiven him. But the memories brought about a visceral reaction you hadn’t experienced in months. Today had been meant to be a new beginning for the both of you, a fresh start. Something better, you had promised each other.

Why did it still hurt so much?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You could have been hyperventilating on the bathroom floor for minutes or hours; you couldn’t tell, when a soft knock reverberated through the surface of the door.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Doll, I can hear you crying. Let me in.” His words were soft, understanding, sorrowful. He knew.

You couldn’t move. You wanted to open the door, to lose yourself in his embrace so badly, but you couldn’t control your body enough to coordinate movement. All you could do was hug yourself as you sobbed.

“Pocket,” you heard Bucky murmur through the door. “Baby, I need you to breathe for me, ok? Your gonna make yourself pass out. Just… just unlock the door, alright? That’s all you have to do for me, sweets. Just unlock the door.”

Unlock the door. You could do that. One, simple motion. You slowly lifted a trembling hand above your head, connecting with the doorknob by sense of touch, alone. With shaking fingers, you managed to disengage the lock.

At the sound of the click, you heard Bucky exhale in relief. “Okay. Good girl. I’m gonna come in now, okay, sweets?” You knew you should move– you were still curled up in front of the door, but you couldn’t get your body to cooperate. You tried to speak, but the only sound that came from your throat was another agonizing sob.

You heard the knob turn and the door begin to press against you. With gentle but steady pressure, Bucky opened the door, sliding your body across the bathroom tile in the process, but you barely noticed. He would always be a force that had the ability to move you at his will.

When there was enough space for him to fit his body through the door frame, Bucky squeezed himself in and turned to look behind the door, searching for you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, dropping down to his knees to join you on the tile. In an instant, he had you in his arms, picking you up and cradling you to his chest.

“I-I-I’m…” you stuttered, trying to form words through your sobs, “s–s–so s-s-sorry.”

Bucky tutted as he stroked your hair. “No, sweets, no. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He kissed the top of your head, and you found that your breathing began to steady in his presence. “My actions keep causing you pain.”

You shook your head vehemently, clutching to the fabric of his shirt as if your very life depended on it. “No,” you whispered. “It’s not… It’s not you.” You closed your eyes, trying to mold your jumbled emotions into a cohesive thought. “This place is supposed to be safe,” you told him, hoping he would follow what you were trying to say. “Ours. And then… when Sam said… that… it was… it was like her ghost walked right in the door. She’s still haunting me, Buck.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair, “what do you need? What can I do?”

You wiped at your eyes and looked up at him with a tear-streaked face. “Tell me you love me, Bucky.”

His piercing blue gaze was honest and sincere as he looked down at you. “I love you, Pocket. I have only, ever, loved you.” No questions, no ridiculing your request for reassurance– just pure understanding that this was what you needed from him

You felt yourself exhale, the tension that had been wracking through you ebbing away as you looked into his eyes. “I love you, Buck,” you whispered back. “I’m sorry– I thought… I thought I was better.”

His face was soft as he looked at you. “Doll, you are getting better. It’s a process. We’re a process. And we work on us, together.”

You snorted in spite of yourself as you wiped your nose. “How the fuck did you get so goddamn wise?” you asked him. “It’s mildly annoying.”

“Ah, there’s that dirty mouth I love so much,” he smirked at you. “Come on.” With a gracefulness that belied his massive size, he lifted you up and carried you back into the bedroom, gently placing you on your new bed.

“Oh, shit!” you said, trying to stand up. “Everyone’s still downstairs–”

“I kicked them out as soon as you left the living room,” he told you, coming to kneel before you as he pulled you back down. “Serves them right for interrupting our first night living together when we haven’t touched each other in eight thousand, seven hundred and forty three hours.”

You widened your eyes. “Not that your counting, or anything,” you said with a giggle, and were rewarded when Bucky smirked up at you.

“There’s my girl,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I know we had big plans for tonight,” he said as he rested his vibranium hand on your knee. “And trust me when I tell you, there is nothing I want more than to strip you naked and take you apart on every single surface of this apartment until you can’t remember your own name.” You gulped at that. “But,” he continued, “all that can wait. Tonight, I’m gonna go back into that bathroom, light some candles, and run us a bubble bath. Then, you and I are going to get in that tub and I’m just gonna hold you, okay?” You found yourself nodding dumbly at the sensual promise.

Bucky leaned in close to you, tucking a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. “Tonight,” he reiterated, “I just want us to be close. And then tomorrow?” He leaned in to whisper seductively into your ear. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Part 2 ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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x-blue-spring-x · 2 months ago

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Omg i dreamt that a random being came to me at night when I was in bed and started fooling around with my body. I kept my eyes closed because I was scared, but he was pretty good at it so I got horny and into it.

He started fucking me slowly but deep, with a long, smooth not too thick cock, and it was goooood. I started groping his body, because duh, and it kept changing between forms- from a super buff guy to something less human and more gelatinous??

Then he switched from my pussy to my ass, and to help the transition, some kind of soft and wet protrusion was rubbing my clit a lot like a tongue would, then he stayed in his buff form to fuck me like that. Omg it was amazing. He also asked me to look at him. Since he was staying in his muscley man mood, i looked and wasn’t quite sure what i was looking at, other than a buff dusty dark purple skinned monster. Whatever counted as a mouth came down and latched to my right nipple, sending me into overwhelming pleasure that i was simultaneously trying to escape and have more of.

I only wish i was able to stay in the dream longer to come. Alas, I woke up before that could happen. In any case, i kinda like to think thats how fucking a gentle sukuna would be like, except sukuna would have a thick monster cock obviously, and probably two of them.

Oh i just remembered! I was begging the monster to change his form to have two cocks! Imagine that, a cock for each hole, sukunas tummy tongue to play with your clit and grind on, and him trying to suck your soul out of your tit.

For some reason i felt like i had to share this with you.

I am so glad you shared this with me my bby! My first JJK ask I could cry!!

Here’s some very gentle Sukuna for you ❤️

He doesn’t come to you often, the king of curses, yet most nights you find yourself waiting for him.

Not a soul knows about your strange guest. Every shared breath is trapped between you and him in a silent lovers promise. The people in your village would be frightened, and admittedly you thought it was a sign of an impending apocalypse when you first saw him, stood at the end of your sleeping pad. Impossibly tall, four arms muscle bound and ringed with the blackest ink, his red eyes had gazed at you through the velvet darkness, seeking and searching for something unknown.

He smelt of death wrapped in a smile, cinders and ashes against the heaviest amber. Intoxicating, it made your head swim, all thoughts muddied and confused like the banks of a river after heavy rains. Perhaps that was part of his strange charm, the heady drunkenness you feel in his presence, enough arrogance to drown in and a wide mouth that curls across pointed, sharp teeth.

Still, the power he holds over you, over the lands your people farm daily, is enough to encourage you to spread your thighs for him. To give the monster softness, somewhere gentle to rest for a few hours before he disappears into the mists again. You would be lying if you said it was just that through. He’s insatiable, hungry and brimming with furious need, but beyond that there’s a curious softness displayed only to you and no other. For you are chosen, special above all humans. Marked in a way that leaves no room for argument.

Dreamlike, the low moon paints everything in a blue cast, cool and dappled through the thin walls of your room. The nights are drawing in, a chill settling over the forests and mountains surrounding the small place you know as home. Your breath is steady, a little tug of the sheets to cover your shoulder. Then you hear it, the creak of the wood under his heavy feet, a scent of smoke clinging to the midnight air.

Sitting up, you’re confronted by the full breadth of him, chest rising and falling rapidly with the promise of what’s to come. He tilts his head, cat like. Those duplicate crimson eyes blinking lazily at you, dark lashes fanned under them.

Quietly you shrink from under the soft cotton, inviting him closer without needing to speak. His nose twitches as he inhales, a smile curving across his broad mouth until his sharp teeth snare his bottom lip.

“So eager. Did you miss me?” Voice a low rumble, thunder purring beneath the surface of it, Sukuna regards you. There’s something burning in his face, a hunger that he’s never able to satisfy when it comes to you, so pliant and weak in his wide palms and under the bite of his canines.

Your response is a nod, shy and timid as it’s been months since you last welcomed him into your bed. The jet coloured markings across his body seem to grow darker, framing a jawline cut like glass. He lets out a low purr, padding towards your mattress while his stare narrows, taking in the flesh ripe for him, your body the only altar that’s ever seen a being like Sukuna sink to his knees. Your mouth meets his, hot and heavy, never the gentle soft kisses you expect from a moonlit visitor. His tongue flicks against yours almost at once, so greedy, wholly devoid of propriety or valour.

Sukuna pins your body beneath his vast one, lower arms making short work of your night clothes as he dominates your lips, sucking until they tingle and bruise under him. His upper hands find purchase in your hair, tugging your face closer still roughly, winding against your scalp until you let out a whine of protest.

When your eyes flutter open he’s watching you, both pairs zeroed in on your expression, as his broad lower palms grip the meat of your hips.

“Don’t be rough.” You whisper. It’s a strange feeling, understanding that no other could ever demand a thing from him without receiving instant death in result. He’s still holding your locks tightly, forcing your throat close to his grinning mouth. Sukuna doesn’t look angry, instead he seems faintly surprised, probably because the nature of your relationship has been mainly carnal as opposed to intellectual.

“I know no other way.”

His voice is husky, strained even. So carefully you run your own fingers across shoulders bound by ridged strength. He purrs again, this time lower and far more gentle.

You jump slightly as a droplet of saliva hits your stomach, threading its way along the skin of your navel. The mouth on his torso matches his grin, the huge tongue lolling and seeking out the hot scent of your tight cunt. Wantonly you angle your hips up to meet it, allowing it purchase on your mound until the wetness trickles lower and you whimper at the feeling.

Sukuna lets out a noise of fierce approval, rearing up to slot your pussy against his torso, watching the way his tongue immediately dives into the heat of your core, the thick muscle lathing unforgiving strokes along your seams.

“Fuck!” He exhales, lowered eyes closing briefly with ecstasy, pale pink hair bleached white in the low light. “My little human whore did miss me then.”

Always darkly possessive, Sukuna’s thick fingers bite harshly into your thighs, spreading you wide as his lower mouth traces circles on your clit. Gasping, you grip his forearms, feeling the tendons bunch and release beneath his skin. Lights start to pop under your eyes, knees shaking so violently it makes him laugh. A vicious chuckle without any shred of sympathy. Without warning his upper set of hands find your throat, tugging you upwards and into the safe embrace of his lower limbs. You moan at that, wrenched away from the pulse of his broad tongue, the spit mixing with your slick is so viscous it drenches the mat beneath you.

Sukuna lets a tsk out at your moans. Clicking his teeth as you struggle to collect yourself, so close and yet so far from the sweet release you’ve craved.

“On my cocks, or not at all.” Face to face his whirling stare glimmers, lids heavy with the need to sink inside you.

He spits onto one palm, wrapping an arm around you and probing your tight, puckered hole. Massaging and rubbing until he can slip one thick finger in and then two. Vaguely you realise he’s showing kindness in his own way, lessening the intensity of having to take one of his shafts without any preparation.

You can feel them, heavy and dripping with creamy pre-spend as they rest between your legs. Sukuna draws you up closer to him, binding your arms tight to your sides and sliding his cocks between your thighs, coating himself in wetness until a rasping groan leaves the back of his throat.

“So fucking drenched.” Briefly his tattooed forehead rests against yours, like he’s struggling to master himself. Then with no warning, he’s breaching your body, cocks probing and parting your sticky flesh until you almost feel them in your throat. It’s almost too much, you’re so full of him, his scent clinging to your skin and filling your nose like incense. You push backwards against his chest, asking for patience, for some distraction from the burning stretch of him.

“Shhh.” His mouth finds the shell of your ear, warm air making you shiver as he opens you up for himself. That vast mouth on his stomach finds your clit again and you keen, sympathetically rolling your hips as you seek the right amount of pressure to bring yourself down from the ledge of overstimulation. It doesn’t take long for you to grow bolder, digging your nails into his marked back, begging for a movement on his side that will send you tipping off the precipice of perfection.

“Beg me.” His coarse, deep voice sounds far away as he starts to meet your feeble thrusts with the power of his own hips. “Beg me to let you cum.”

“Pp-lease!” You stammer without pausing to think. “Please my lord!”

Sukuna groans into your hair, lower arms still holding you tightly while his weighty palm contracts around your throat. He’s fucking you now without holding back, sinking deep until you drench his balls, the tongue beneath his mouth moving ceaselessly.

“Milk my cocks then, remind me how a human whore does it! Now!”

The command of his voice is final, your body is well trained to it. You cum hard, shattering around him as you choke out a cry, voice box pressed hard under his fingers. He doesn’t let up in his rhythm, but you feel him throbbing inside you, both cocks pulsing as you constrict. The pain of his bite to your neck only fuels the fire, and you lose count of how long he’s been buried within your cunt and ass, filling you to the brim with his potent seed.

When morning comes, he’s gone again. Only leaving the lingering smell of charcoal on your sheets.

Maybe you dreamt it, but you’re sure you felt someone pressing sweet kisses over your collarbone in the early haze of morning. When you wake you’re tucked up tightly, like he’s made sure to protect you from the cold even in his absence. A dainty, blood red flower sits on your pillow, leaves vibrant against the snow white linen.

Perhaps not such a monster after all.

He’s a big softy.

#x-blue-spring-x #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #reqs open #soft sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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gravehags · 7 months ago

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smitten by the blackest force

Pairing: Mary Goore x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: witch reader, cemetery sex, deals with the devil, rough sex, devil's marks, mary goore being some kind of supernatural being...?

Words: 2,861

Summary: If this is your Mephistopheles well...just call you Doctor Faustus.

a/n: mary please return my calls i desperately need to get fucked in a cemetery. mary are you there? mary?

~~~

You like this cemetery.

It’s old. Quiet. Set back in the oak trees off the dirt road with ivy entwined in the wrought-iron fencing. You liked to come here often - even on the occasions where you weren’t conducting rituals - sometimes packing a sandwich and an Arizona tea and just sitting on the grass - keeping the spirits whose names have long worn off the headstones company. You’ve never seen anyone else visit but somehow the grass is always trimmed back, never overgrown. Even the local teenagers don’t fuck with this place, your little hideout, and for that you’re extremely grateful. There are some rumors among the townspeople about devil worshippers in the area but considering the questionable nature of your own practice, you aren’t too worried about them (if they even exist at all.)

Right now you’ve got a blanket spread out to sit on, a knitted shawl around your shoulders, and your various bottles and crystals surrounding you. You hauled out a few camping lanterns from your car to keep the spot well-lit as the sun dips down below the forested horizon. Sighing you lay back against the blanket beneath you, breathing in the evening air and the quiet.

Snap.

The sound has you shooting up, clutching your shawl and eyes darting. The only thing you can hear is the sound of nature around you - crickets and cicadas. You open your mouth with the intention of asking if anyone is there before you promptly close it, thinking better of it. You’ve been out here at night before - countless times - and never encountered anything sinister but you’re not stupid and inviting anything in. Besides, you think as your shoulders sag, it was probably an animal. You scoot back on your blanket until your back is flush with the tall mossy headstone behind you, feeling more secure with its protection. A few minutes pass and you yawn, watching the blink of fireflies in the distance. You slump against the stone, and you feel so cozy and content as your eyelids slide close you only vaguely register the low chuckle coming from somewhere behind you. You’re in the beginning stages of drifting off when a teasing whistle winds its way through the gravestones. You jolt upwards, head whipping around but neither seeing nor hearing anything. That is, until a soft tsk-ing sound comes from behind you and you watch as thick, beat-up boot soles stroll into your line of vision. You crawl away from the person, heart thundering in your chest and your anxiety thrumming through your veins reminding you that you’re probably going to die. When the figure stops at a nearby tall headstone and leans back against it, crossing their legs at the ankles, they speak.

“Kind of a shitty witch who falls asleep in a fucking cemetery,” they smirk, crossing their arms. Thanks to a nearby lantern you’re able to get a better look at them - skinny, but not tall, wearing torn up jeans and a ratty band shirt with the sleeves cut off. Most of their face is hidden by the messy black lock of hair that hangs down over their forehead but you swear they’re wearing some kind of face paint and was that…blood?

“Who the fuck are you?” you snap, eyes darting around for anything you can use as a weapon.

“Oh she’s a mean little thing,” they crow, pushing off the headstone and stepping towards you. The panic is really starting to set in and you wonder if you’d be able to make it to one of the lanterns and hit them in th–

“Relax, sweetheart,” they say, crouching into a squat a few feet from you, “if I wanted you dead you’d be dead one of the other dozen times I’ve seen you alone out here.”

Your blood runs cold as you remind yourself there are things worse than death.

“You’ve been watching me? W-where there’s never anyone around–”

“Forest is big,” they say casually, dropping to their knees and sitting back on their haunches. “Lots of spots between the trees. And I’m real quiet.”

All of this is…troubling information to say the least but their first words stand out to you.

“How did you know I’m a witch?”

They nod, large pale hands resting on their thighs.

“We’ve been watching you for a while. Kind of a…local weirdo in this area, aren’t you? Small town shit seems a little beneath someone like you.”

You snort.

“I like the quiet. And most people mind their fucking business out here. Sorry, did you say ‘we’ve’ been watching?”

“Oh yeah, y’know, the uh,” they bring their hands up to their head and make horns with their fingers, “devil worshippers.”

Huh.

Intriguing.

You scoot a little closer to them and notice the way their full lips twitch in a minute smile.

“The old folk of the town talk about you guys but I never gave it any credence. Thought it was just leftover Satanic panic horseshit from the eighties.”

“Mmm well,” they begin, “we’re not your typical uh…Satan worshippers. It’s kind of more of a big deal than that. Actually, a lot of a big deal.”

“Oh yeah?” There's something magnetic about this slender creature whose green eyes glint in the lantern light. While you’re not necessarily soothed by their presence you cannot deny that you are drawn in.

“Yeah,” they confirm, “I’ll tell you more about it later but uh, let’s talk about you, huh?”

“What about me?” you ask, some of your caution returning.

“Well we’ve seen what you do. Got eyes on you. And we’d like to offer you a place at the Ministry. Our practices aren’t so different, are they?”

No, you think to yourself, no they’re not. You’re no stranger to demon work and after all what is Lucifer but the demon to end all demons? And all your dealings with them have always led to successful rituals and outcomes.

“So what do I get out of it? And why didn’t you just come to my house or my work to ask me all this?”

The slightly sinister chuckle that comes out of them stirs something within you.

“Protection. Power. The ability to do whatever you want, whenever you want to. A home.”

That last one hits you hard but you stay silent.

“Are you interested?”

A moment passes.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I want to live deliciously or whatever?”

They tilt their head back and laugh, slapping their thighs with their palms.

“Haven’t told you how we seal the deal yet, sweetheart.”

“Oh? And that would be…?”

“A surprise. Which you’ll find out about when you answer my question. Are you in?”

You were supposed to be charging your crystals in the moonlight and collecting cemetery dirt tonight, not making a fucking deal with the Devil. But, you think as you look at the figure eyeing you intently, everything happens for a reason.

“Yes. Yes I’m in.”

They give you a wide, sharp grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, gorgeous. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

Before you can ask what they mean, they’re crawling towards you like some kind of spindly cryptid. You’d be lying if it didn’t arouse you even as you back up against a headstone with nowhere else to go.

“C’mon sweetheart,” they purr, wrapping their fingers around your ankle. “Time to give the Devil his due.”

You yelp as they yank your body towards them, their hand sliding along the curve of your calf and up to your knee.

“And you’re the Devil are you?” you breathe, watching them slither up your body and settle between your legs.

“Me? Nah. I’m just the poster guy who gets to reap all the rewards.”

“And what do I call you?”

They lean in to inhale deep at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and you have to bite back a moan.

“Wanna know what name you’ll be screaming out tonight, huh?”

“Think pretty highly of yourself,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to drag your fingernails along their back. When they growl and grind their denim-covered cock against you, you grin.

“You’re awfully mouthy, aren’t you?”

“Thought you wanted to hear my voice?”

They’ve got their hands on the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing the skin of your belly, when they look at you with a wicked smile.

“Take this off before I rip it off,” they growl, raising the fabric insistently. You gleefully acquiesce, watching their eyes boggle as your bare breasts sway in front of them. Leaning back on your elbows you blink innocently up at them, watching their tongue dart out to smear the paint near their lips.

“Fucking finally,” they grouse before falling upon you and taking your pebbled nipple in their mouth.

“You–ah–never answered my question.”

They slide off your breast and grin up at you.

“Call me Mary.”

There’s no softness in their attentions, all hard sucking and teeth nipping but fuck if it isn’t exactly what you need. It’s been a while - much longer than you’d like to admit - ever since you moved to this podunk little town. The selection wasn’t exactly uh, bountiful. You’ve got your head tilted back as they suck pretty dark bruises into your flesh but when they give your unattended nipple a sharp pinch your eyes fly to theirs.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want you to remember exactly who fucked you this good.”

You laugh.

“Haven’t done any fucking yet, have you? I’m withholding my judgment.”

Instantly, they pull away and sit back on their haunches.

“You little bitch,” they crow with a crooked grin, “Oh you’re gonna be fun to have around.”

You’ve propped yourself up once more, watching Mary as they rub the bulge in their jeans.

“Drooling a little, huh baby?”

Maybe. But you’ll be damned if they know it.

“Yeah, out of boredom. Are you gonna sit there rubbing one out all night?”

They squeeze their cock, grinning down at you.

“Maybe I should fill your mouth instead of your cunt? Stuff you so full of me you’ll really be drooling. I’ll shut you up then, huh?”

You’re not totally opposed to the idea but the ache between your thighs needs attention before any other extracurricular activities occur.

“I’ll be good–” you say, reaching down to wiggle your joggers and underwear off your hips. When the heat of you is exposed to their gaze, you slide your fingers between your folds to gather the slick that has accumulated. Satisfied, you raise your hand to your mouth and slowly slide the digits between your lips onto your tongue, “--I promise.”

Mary’s panting now, the heavy rise and fall of their chest hypnotic as they drink you in. They’ve still got their hand to their bulge, lazily squeezing their cock through the fabric. Suddenly their fingers are viciously unbuttoning and unzipping their pants and you both sigh as they take their cock out. It’s a pretty thing, all red and swollen and dripping, and you know it’s going to look even prettier inside you. They stroke it, smearing the pre down the shaft with their lips curled into a grin.

“That’s all it takes to make you pipe down? A nice dick?”

“Who said anything about it being nice?” you say, but your breathy tone gives away your true feelings. They look altogether too pleased with themselves as they scoot forward and drag the tip through your wet folds. When they nudge your clit with the head your hips buck up and you whine.

“Now that’s more like it,” they smirk, pressing against your entrance. “Beg for it,” they snarl, pushing in the tip.

“Fuck Mary, please. I need it, need your fucking cock to fill me up, please, please, please.”

They laugh, the sound jarring in the near darkness.

“Damn, could’ve stopped at the first ‘please’ but you sounded so pretty doing it, think I’ll give you an extra good ride tonight.”

You’re about to say something caustic but before the words can even leave your mouth, they slam their cock into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. True to their word, they set a brutal pace, gripping your thighs and eyes flicking between your bouncing breasts and where they disappear inside of you.

“B-been awhile, huh?” they pant, hips snapping into yours. “Almost like you’ve been w-waiting for me. Saving it up.”

You don’t have it in you to be snarky anymore, too stuffed dumb. So you nod frantically.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, “all for you Mare, fuck right there.”

“Shoulda done this weeks ago,” they growl, “Instead of jerking off in the–augh–fucking woods. Never–fuck–never thought you’d be so easy.”

You’re not sure if they mean your deal with the Devil or the fucking but honestly you can’t bring yourself to care about anything right now that isn’t their cock pounding into you at a furious rate. They’re relentless, wrenching noises out of you you didn’t even know you could make. When they drag their hand to where you’re joined and dip a thumb in to rub at your clit your body arches off the grass.

“Fuck, Mary!”

“Know you’re close,” they grunt, “can f-feel you. Come on baby, let go. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to Him.”

The entire situation - the damp slide of the grass under your fingertips, the thick night air, the deal you just made, the cock currently hammering inside you - hits you all at once and your hips spasm.

“Don’t stop, Mare, please holy fuck yes, right there.”

Your hands fly to your breasts, cupping the weight of them and viciously pinching at the taut buds, making your lover groan and their hips stutter against you.

“C’mon yeah, play with those pretty fuckin’ tits, sweetheart. Oh fuck.”

You’re clenching around them now as they frantically rub at your clit and piston in and out of you, your moans increasing in volume and pitch. You feel as if you’re levitating, mouth hung open in a silent scream as you come undone, chanting their name.

“That’s it baby,” they snarl, gritting their teeth, “Cum for me, cum all over this cock–ah!”

You’re still riding your own high when you feel their cock twitch inside of you, flooding you with their seed. Their hoarse moans nearly send you into your second orgasm and your eyes slide shut, enjoying the feeling of them emptying inside you when–

They’re gone.

You heave a gasp as if taking a breath after being held underwater, hands flying to the ground beneath you. Mary’s gone–just fucking…gone. The only remnant of them currently dripping out of your used cunt onto the grass. You’re trembling while simultaneously being flooded with warmth as if you’ve been overcome by an awful fever. You ease yourself onto your side and curl into a fetal position, watching a ladybug crawl over the stone next to you. You’re not sure how long you lie there, shivering in the dark, but when your mind finally comes to you see the rosy planes of dawn stretching out through the trees. With great effort you push yourself off the ground - using the headstone for stabilization - your knees nearly giving way when you finally manage to stand. Sluggishly, you pull your underwear and pants up and spot your t-shirt a couple feet away crumpled in a pile. All your little vials and crystals stand as silent witnesses to the depravity that occurred last night and you hastily snatch them up and pile them into your tote bag. Your mind is a haze - too much of a haze to gather the blanket and lanterns - so you stumble out of the gate and head towards your car.

You don’t remember driving home but when you push the door open to the old house you rent, you feel…filthy. You’re not sure if it’s from your encounter with Mary or something else but you know one thing - you desperately need a shower. Your bags get dropped in the living room and you mechanically strip as you head to your bathroom. The shower is just what you needed - the firm stream of scalding hot water on your hair and body rejuvenating. When you step out into your steamy bathroom, you let out a deep sigh. The further you got from the events of last night the more they felt like some kind of wild dream, and you would be content to convince yourself of this were it not for the purple bruises peppered across your breasts that you spotted in the shower. You drop your towel and pad out into your bedroom to look for something clean and comfy to wear when you walk past your full-length mirror and stop dead in your tracks. There’s something on you - you think maybe it’s a tick or mud - so you turn the bedroom light on. High on your thigh, right in the center is a perfectly round mark, the size of a pencil eraser.

You don’t have any birthmarks.

Your stomach floods with panic and you fall to your knees on the rug, still naked and damp.

There’s a knock at your door.

#mary goore x reader #mary goore x female reader #mary goore #rachel writes

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pursuitseternal · 3 months ago

Text

Unholy: a Priestarion fic

Dawnmaster Ancunín x Jenevelle |E| 3.4K

Summary: Before she can be ordained as Mother Superior and Chosen of Selûne, Jenevelle Hallowleaf must past trials by a Dawnmaster of Lathander. Is purpose is nearly secret, and his methods are… unholy.

CW: Massive corruption kink, Never-kidnapped-by-Sharrans Shadowheart, the irony of an undead Dawnmaster of Lathander, vaginal fingering, oral male receiving…

Ao3 link | Masterlist

To be a Chosen was to be alone. To be silent. To be submissive.

To be holy.

Jenevelle knelt on the cold stone, bathed in silvery light from the lanterns and crystals of her chamber. It was a chilling light, one meant to keep her attentive and alert so as not to fall into sloth during her prayers. For the prayers of Selûne’s Chose were the sweetest of all. No lapse in attentiveness would suffice, especially if she wished to be deemed worthy of the title Mother Superior for her Cloister.

It was humble, this small group of buildings that made up the Selûnite convent outside of the Baldur’s Gate. But the woods were always bathed in moonlight, the forests so dense, barely any sunlight breached the foliage. It was a haven of serenity for the Moonmaiden and her most devoted followers. Those most perfect.

Those like Jenevelle Hallowleaf and her bright shining heart. Even from her birth, her parents had known her value, raised her in tradition apart from the world, sparing her the darkness and suffering that was of the enemy. Even sparing her the knowledge of matters of the flesh, keeping her spotless to be an offering to Selûne.

All her life led to this night, the eve she would prove her worth and virtue, to be named the new Mother Superior in the moon’s glow at its descent in the morning light.

Fitting it was one of the Dawnmaster of Lathander that would be her adjudicator and confessor then.

She hadn’t heard his name before, this Dawnmaster Ancunín, and the rest of her order had assured her it was merely because he was unique, an almost secret Dawnmaster, the one they trusted most with flushing out clerics for their impurities and sin.

He was the expert, after all, at least that was the rumor.

“He has arrived,” Mother Isobel Thorm whispered into Jenevelle’s ear, “I have seen the wonders of the Moonmaiden from Moonrise to here, and I must say, you will need to pray with extra fervor, Sister. This Dawnmaster is… not like the others. Be wary, and be mindful of your vows.”

With that, she departed Jenevelle’s cell, leaving her kneeling on the stone floor by the hearth, her silver hair tied up neatly at the crown of her head.

Vows… Jenevelle steadied her resolve. Chastity, Silence, and of most importance, Obedience.

In the silence, she shifted her robe over her shoulders, the neckline just a bit too wide so as to let it slink off the curve of one, baring her pale skin to the moon…

Or to the eyes of the Dawnmaster who entered her cell noiselessly. His voice dripped with honey, smooth as silk and swirling like embers on the night wind. “Why, I feel almost blessed to be in the presence of the Moonmaiden’s Chosen,” he purred, robes of blackest night billowing as he shut the door behind him. A quiet incantation, and a thickness filled the air as he cast Silence. Only then did Jenevelle look up at him.

She wished to the Maiden she hadn’t.

No… no this couldn’t be… she thought, screaming to herself, unwilling to break a single vow. He was… handsome, devilishly so, his deep hood dropping back to reveal a face etched by the heavens themselves, skin like pearls and eyes that glowed crimson, catching the moonlight of her chamber. He was sharp, exacting, and intense, staring down at her with that subtle smile on his twitching lips.

“Do you feel ready, child, to be your Lady’s Chosen?” he asked, to the point. A few steps closer to where she knelt, the image of devotion, and she inhaled his scent. Citrus… and smoke, incense and sandalwood.

Far too sensual to be a simple man with an eye for nothing but his prayer book.

Moonmaiden, why did her mouth start to water… and why did she have to swallow so loudly. Jenevelle caught herself before she so much as considered cursing at the thought. She shifted on her knees, her insides fluttering and warm, her breathing growing ragged like she had just run uphill.

And Jenevelle could only look into his eyes at his queries, her tongue locked at the bottom of her mouth by her vow of silence.

The Dawnmaster tilted his head, chilling fingers gripping her chin to angle her pale face into the moonlight. “Oh yes, that’s right, your Lady demands a vow of silence to help prepare yourself for her merciful light.”

He giggled. High pitched and breathy, short and… gods… humorless.

But why did it still make her smile, her chin yet resting in the cool bed of his grip.

“It’s been some time since I’ve been asked to test a maiden of Selûne, your goddess is far more demanding and stricter than most. But that’s my duty as Advocatus Tenebrae…”

Advocate of Darkness.

Jenevelle might have been young, naive in the ways of the world and devoted to serving on her knees, but her studies had been thorough.

A rare ministry of the Lathanderites, a single priest, bound to test those deemed most chosen in the service of the deities of Light and Dark, of Death and Life.

“I can practically hear the wheels in your brain grinding, little Cleric,” he whispered, even as his voice drew closer, lips pressing against her ear as he bent down. Was… that his thumb on her neck? The single stroke of that thumb pad traced down the vein of her pulse.

A pulse that was rapidly accelerating to a full blown gallop as she felt his breath on her skin, ice cold.

Something in her body screamed to run, a primal instinct like the times she had been in the forest, too close to beasts that could devour her in one gulp…

A predator, hungry for slaughter.

She grunted at the faintest pressure he put around her neck.

Grunting was allowed, surely, she reasoned. Like sneezing or coughing.

But the Dawnmaster only tutted his tongue as he withdrew. “Already such little sounds from your delicate voice box. You’re failing to impress me, Chosen of Selûne. You better stay on your knees if you’re going to withstand my darkness, for it is my vocation to try and break you.”

She shuddered as she met that crimson gaze… as she saw the flash of his fangs behind those smirking, plush lips.

“Ahhhh,” he cooed, “the special little girl has pieced it together.” He gave that damned giggle again. “I don’t need to hear your words to have enough insight and read your thoughts as they run rampant across your pretty face.” His hand strayed from her neck, tracing the arc of her cheek before leaving her skin entirely. Leaving only the residual burn of his corpse cold touch. His tone was mockingly innocent as he widened his eyes and falsely softened his smile into surprise. “A vampire? An undead servant of Lathander? How could it be?”

Fuck, if he didn’t almost read her thoughts word for word. Perceptive arse.

Jenevelle dug her nails into the tops of her thighs where her hands rested, using the pain to offer atonement for such crude cursing.

But those keen red eyes caught that too.

“Now now, darling, don’t be hard on yourself. Being so easy to read only makes my job here all the easier. And that’s what we both want, isn’t it? We want this to be… easy.”

Fuck, the way he purred that last word. As if she were the one that was easy…

“The sooner I break you, the sooner you can go about your much needed preparations and atonement.”

Jenevelle glared at him as if to say: And if I should succeed and resist?

But the Dawnmaster only giggled once more, darker and deeper in his broad chest this time. A sound that made some inner muscle in her lower belly clench and burn.

“Don’t lie to yourself or to me. I know you’re not ready, not pure enough to resist me.” Then he did something that made her gasp aloud, he knelt before her too, his robes of blackest cloth draping over her bare knees where they peaked out from her silver muslin wrap. That cursed hand trailed a finger across her pulse point again, “I can hear every rap of your unbridled pulse…” That cold touch caressed over the fabric of her gown towards her hips, sliding over the naked skin of her knee, her thigh, before he stopped his advances just shy of her hip.

Of where she burned with something… unholy.

“I can smell you, you know…”

Jenevelle shifted on her knees, and suddenly she realized that the burning heat in her belly wasn’t just inside… Her sex was wet, so dripping and so slick from this man’s presence and ghostly touches that it squelched as she moved.

That sweet damp sound only made him give the widest, most fang baring smirk yet.

“Shall we begin, my child?” he whispered, that little epithet only making Jenevelle wriggle more on her knees to squelch her wet thighs louder this time. His thick silver brow arched at the noise, and he gave that bone rattling chuckle again. “Not off to an auspicious start, darling…”

Jenevelle shuddered, shivering as his cool touch swept slowly higher, a soothing balm promised for the burning. She didn’t even notice when or how she parted her knees, letting his fingers creep over the soft plush of her thighs to soothe her ache.

“Mmm, good girl,” he hummed, keeping his frame at a distance to observe and note every twitching reaction. “You’re lucky you know, Selûne likes her chosens extra bright and shiny, which means…” he paused, fingers sinking into her folds as he watched her face silently screw tightly in pleasure, “you’ll have to withstand my darkest desires.” The smirk on his face dripped with sin as he licked his lips, playing his fingers in and out, twisting them and crooking them to draw extra wet and lewd sounds from under that silvery gauze shift. “I do so love my calling, and it’s sweet, innocent darlings like you that I enjoy testing the most.”

Jenevelle bit her tongue until she tasted blood, fixing her gaze on the window slats in her ceiling that let in the moonlight.

She fought every instinct screaming at her to move as his finger played inside, their damp exploration widening her channel, three fingers wide now, pushing her apart.

“Oh, darling, I doubt you’ve ever been wetter. Certainly makes my task easier,” he gave that rolling chuckle again. “How else am I to verify your vow of… chastity?” Those crimson eyes had dilated almost to pitch black now, his lips quirking at random… or was it in time with the rhythm of this hand pushing up into her cunt?

Those wicked fingers thrust and curled, over and over again. Something burned, called forth by his touches and summoned by every wash of his chilling, undead breath as it fanned down her neck. She felt his lips purse and press a kiss beneath her ear, and it took all her strength to keep the moan in her throat locked away.

Then his thumb brushed something hard and aching right at the crest of her sex. A grunt struggled free from her control, her hand splaying back to catch her as she crumbled. Whatever spot that was he circled now set an unholy fire in her body, every limb, every muscle shaking and tightening to a state of pure… ecstasy. Yes. That was it. Ecstasy. Rapture.

This wave of bliss so intense, it stole her breath as she shook on his hand, it was surely divine. A boon given so intensely, her mouth watered, her eyes wept, and her sex flooded with slick….

…slick he began to suck from his lithe and pale digits as he stood once more. Those black robes fluttered, heavy and loud through the strange haze that had swallowed her.

“Can you feel it, my little Chosen? The fire in your veins, the heady intoxication of how your body craves more of my touch?” His voice was soft, dripping… sweet like honey from the comb. His sticky fingers pushed under her chin to force her eyes to meet that crimson stare. “You have proven yourself once chaste,” he chuckled, dark and dangerous, that sharp implication of something lost, never to be reclaimed sent an unholy tremor down her spine.

And gods, did it make her belly coil again so soon.

One cool thumb slipped between her lips, pulling her jaw down. “Now, my duty says to push on,” he chuckled again at his words, “Obedience or silence, that is the sweetest of questions.” He growled, sliding his thumb deeper inside the warm cavern of her mouth, the tang of her own juices still coating it as she unknowingly sucked it. “Or both at once…”

His red eyes flared, smirking down at her, at the way her body responded so automatically and innocently. She’d let him do anything… anything for the sake of testing her light against his darkness. And by the Dawn Lord, would he make certain she was thoroughly tested….

His thumb skated over her teeth, opening that silent mouth for him. “Oh yes, let’s move on to a trial fit for both your vows at once. Think you can keep this tongue occupied with worship in place of those sweet little grunts you’ve been making?” That free hand of his reached for the buttons of his robes, opening just a few at his waist. “Think you can give me your full obedience?”

It was then she noticed that bulge protruding under their billowing lengths. Something long, pale, and hard stuck out from the gap, his hand wrapped around it as he stroked it lazily.

She knew not why, but her heart raced. Her mouth drew more spit that she had to swallow loudly before she choked on it. Of course she had seen animals rutting in season, but this…. This made her whole body hum with an unfamiliar need. A heat that needed to be cooled. And all she could think of was the cool of his touch.

“Never seen a manhood before?” He laughed, fingers gripping around him as he beat up and down… “Further proof of your chastity, I suppose.”

Those green eyes widened as he stepped closer. “Now, keep silent and obey, and perhaps you’ll be a pleasing offering to your Moonmaiden.”

So many questions ticked her brain… what it was, what it would do… and his crimson eyes drank in the sight of her confusion, a wicked smile on his lips. “Oh, if only your queries could be voiced, my little Chosen,” he purred. “I guess you’ll have to go on blind faith and trust me when I command you to open your lips.”

Her body snapped to attention and obeyed, a mind of its own that craved being told just what to do…. Obedience was a virtue after all. And virtues came with so many graces.

Her pink tongue jutted out just a bit, and his hand deftly guided his cock, brushing its weeping head over it. That pearl of precum coated her, her wide eyes wincing at the unusual taste as a little breath left that gaping mouth.

“Hush, child,” he soothed, hand in her silver hair, carding in the loose tendrils until his grip rested as the back of her head. “Show me true obedience, demonstrate for me your silence, and you’ll earn your place as Mother Superior and Chosen of Selûne. Fail and the consequences…” he trailed off for a moment, head rolling back as he slowly thrust his cock deeper into her mouth, “the consequences could be most dire for you and most delicious for me….”

Fingers held fast suddenly in her hair, his hips snapping forward in surprise. And Jenevelle gasped, her voice box rough and strained from neglect as she suddenly mewled. Her hands pressed into his thighs through that wall of black cassock, and it was all she could do to keep her wits about her. He pistoned in and out of her mouth, her lips closing around his cock out of some long suppressed primal instinct.

“Yes, good child,” he groaned, his breathing labored and huffing, “Obey me. Use your tongue, your lips, your throat and please me.”

The floodgates opened, and a deluge of desire consumed her every action, her every thought. She suckled and licked, her throat straining and gagging around his length as he rammed into her mouth over and over again.

It was numbing… hypnotizing, the repetition of his flesh over her tongue and down her throat. The growls and grunts he made as he thrust into her was like a never-ending chant. And her own voice couldn’t help but to give answer—high pitched whines and deep moans summoned with almost every tickle of his cockhead against the back of her throat.

“So needy, so untrained,” he groaned as he slowed a moment, keeping just that bulbous read on the tip of her tongue. “Lick the tip, little Selûnite, and taste the fruits of your obedience.”

Again, she obeyed, savoring the sensations of him between her lips. Her gaze was fixed now up on his face, those glowing red irises boring into her face. His mouth parted in a slack-jawed grin, revealing the glistening points of his teeth.

His fangs.

And for all of her that feared the dark, that should have been repulsed by an undead vampiric Dawnmaster, all that should have forced him away for the heresy of it all… she just grinned and whined and sucked him deep into her mouth again.

“Nine bloody hells,” he groaned, his breath catching as he hissed through those gritted teeth. “Come on, girl, make me come. Make me come now.”

The words barely registered in her lust-hazed brain. Her hands ran to the back of his legs, keeping his body pressed against hers as close as she could handle. Her cheeks hollowed, her throat strained, eyes running with tears as she couldn’t get enough of the feeling. She wanted more, wanted all of that smooth, hard cock in her mouth.

His thrusts slowed, keeping his depth just as persistent as he snarled. His hand held her head tightly, and that thick shaft began to pulse and twitch as something filled her mouth. It was bitter and sweet, thick and oily as she swallowed it, whatever it was that came from him in full, throbbing bursts. Whatever it was of him that was now part of her.

He held still in her mouth, that grip in her hair easing, his breathing rough as he tried to steady it. “Well,” he chuffed, pulling from her slowly, “I haven’t given such a thorough examination for a long while. I must say, you’ve done enough to please your deity and mine…”

Jenevelle gave a long sigh, even as part of her echoed in… disappointment.

“Ah,” he hummed, tilting his head as he caught her chin and bent low to hover just out of reach. “Am I right to see that this… displeases you?”

She nodded her pretty little head in his grip.

“I must say, I concur. Personally, I find myself yet to be totally satisfied by your virtues.” He purred, his thumb stroking her bottom lip, savoring the way it swelled from his aggression. “Perhaps you must suffer the consequences of failure. If I deem you unworthy, then I return in a tenday for another… examination… on behalf of our god and goddess, of course.”

The way his voice dripped with need, the quirk of his own full and smirking lips made her sex clench.

“If you wish to succeed today, say nothing, but if you would rather accept failure… say anything…”

The offer hung heavy in the air. Temptation. Its corruption was already as deep in her belly as his essence that she had swallowed.

Leaning forward, she placed the chastest of kisses on his softening cockhead. “Yes, Dawnmaster,” she whispered.

“Good girl,” came his stilted reply. His fingers left a fire in the wake of his corpse-cold touch. “Until next tenday, then, my child…”

With that, he fixed his robes, replaced his hood, and left with nothing more than the echo of his deep and wicked laughter in the air of her cell.

For my lovely betas/coven sisters @nyx-knox and @marimosalad

And for my lovely degenerate writers @lets-just-daydream and @astarionancuntnin

🎨 📸 by @casualya

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