#Running out of time in trying to complete the rest of my story ideas

[sorikkung]

people interacting w wgoin in my notes... this would be a rly bad time to say all my writing will probably be on hiatus for the indefinite future huh

[blkkizzat]

🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟺........... THE SORCERER SALARYMAN ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: your sweet boyfriend, nanami kento, promised he'd come visit you tonight bunny. awe baby, don't cry, you're sure that's actually him at the door but you'll run through your checklist just to make sure, won't you?

classifications: huge crybaby!reader, bunny nickname in lieu of y/n, praise kink, an actual plot and backstory lol, dumbification, heavy dacryphillia, pet play, tights kink, raw dog, riding, breeding, manipulation, heavy cuteness aggression, slightly yandere nanami (maybe not so slight lol), angst but comfort, feelings of isolation, fluffy sweet moments of genuine romance, post-shibuya nanami (he survived with burns), burn trauma, jjk society sucks and a gojo cameo lol.

incidents: 6.1k

special shoutout to @yung-notorious who i bounced ideas off of and who had super sweet things to say about this story in general and is the reason i went so deep with this. 🥹

*knock-knock*

A firm yet familiar knock jolts you awake. 

The clock reads a little past 3 am, its faint ticking the only sound filling the dimly lit stillness of your condo’s living room.

You had tried—and failed—to stay awake for Nanami. Determined to wait for him, you curled up on your cloud-like sofa with your Switch. But by 1 am, sleep had claimed you. Not even the promise of a solid turnip trade in Animal Crossing could keep your eyes open.

Yet Nanami rarely came over this late, always mindful of your sleep schedule—or lack thereof. He’d often remind you that you didn’t get enough rest anyway, and he wasn’t wrong.

One thing was certain though: Nanami had always kept his word when he’d promise to visit.

You missed Nanami terribly, only being able to see him via FaceTime for the past few days. So despite the unusual hour, a rush of excitement courses through you. Springing off the couch you practically run to the door.

But your enthusiasm is cut short. Your cozy, thigh-high-covered legs came to a screeching halt just short of answering the door. Mind racing, you think on you the exact reason why you hadn't seen your overworked boyfriend in so long.

Doppelgänger curses. 

What if it wasn’t your Kento at the door?

The intrusive thought grows more persistent as silent tears begin to shimmer, pooling in your long lashes.

“Bunny, you awake, my love? I’m so sorry I’m this late, doll—I’ve missed you.” Sniffling you calm a bit hearing the familiar voice.

Well, it certainly sounded like Nanami.

“Um, y-yeah, K-Ken, m’here.”

As much as you try to hold back your sniffles, the cracks in your voice are evident as you move more cautiously this time towards the door. Fiddling with the hem of the overly large white tee you are swimming in (one of Nanami’s undershirts), you perch up on your tippy toes to reach the peephole. 

Peering out into the hallway, you conclude that it certainly looks like Nanami too. 

Tall, well-put together in his usual glasses, suit and tie. Not to mention ridiculously handsome, even with the burn scars that riddled half his body—they never bothered you anyway. You just want to be in his arms and have to fight the urge right then to lower the barrier and fling the door open. 

“Now, now Bunny baby, don’t cry. I know it's very late but don’t be scared—you remember what you’re supposed to do now, right love?”

The checklist.

“Y-Yeah, I remember Ken—*hiccups*—but m’scared.”

You practically sob out the words, unable to control your anxious tears from rolling down your cheeks as you try to take steadier breaths. 

The checklist had been Nanami’s idea, a sure fire way for you not to worry and verify it was actually him at the door. Always considerate, he was so sweet to you—even though you felt unworthy of him.

You are a sorcerer in your own right and yet your fight-or-flight response is completely fucked—you simply just freeze-up and cry.

It wasn’t entirely your fault though, growing up in a well-to-do non-sorcerer family that pampered you, keeping you sheltered from most of the world. 

Not out of cruelty though, it was genuinely for your own protection. 

Surprisingly, they believed you without question when you confessed to seeing spirits. From an early age, you couldn’t set foot anywhere without encountering grotesque figures clinging to people or lurking around objects. As you grew older, you came to understand that these monsters—twisted and varied in shape and size—were everywhere. They moved freely, unnoticed by anyone else, even daring to roam the streets in broad daylight without a hint of fear.

As a result, you were homeschooled. Often lonely, you found it impossible to make friends outside of your own siblings and cousins. Whenever you did meet other kids, they dismissed you as an attention-seeker—or worse, labeled you a freak—whenever your abilities to see the supernatural were revealed.

Yet at the age of 13 is when already dire matters escalated exponentially. You discovered that when frightened your cursed energy, that you knew nothing of then, would run amuck. You couldn’t control your powers, unintentionally injuring others and nearly killing one of your beloved younger cousins when they jumped out of the pantry to give you a playful scare.

After the incident you voluntarily isolated yourself even more, terrified of the world and yourself for the 6 years that followed with no contact with anyone but your immediate family. Until out of the blue, your parents would bring an Assistant Manager representative from one of the many Jujutsu schools. They gave you more insight into the curses you were seeing and promised you’d even learn to master them if you'd work for them.

You hated to leave your family but you were aware of the ever growing threat you are to them so long as you can’t control your powers. 

Not to mention, the promise of meeting others like you had your heart racing with excitement, you’d almost forgotten the feeling resigning yourself to your feelings of loneliness. You thought you were completely alone but there apparently was a whole other world you weren’t aware of right in front of your face this whole time!

Unfortunately, like the many others who enter the Jujutsu world from outside families, you received a rude awakening—one that you’d learn was far more isolating than being locked away in your home as your hopes of being understood were quickly disillusioned. 

Well, they understood you fine, they just don’t care.

Especially as it is made apparent quickly you were classified at the highest level.

Special grade. 

Yet despite your ranking you find zero camaraderie and very little empathy as the majority of sorcerers you encountered came from generationally gifted families who regarded someone like you with either envy, annoyance or scorn as the competition. Compounded with the fact you were a certified scaredy cat despite having a power very few could compete with made you into the running joke of Jujutsu society.

Your fear crippled your ability to fully utilize your powers which was seen as weakness.

This earned you the title of ‘The Bunny Sorcerer’ or just “Bunny” for short. 

It was cruel but fitting since you did startle easily, just like a little bunny rabbit. Even the presence of a weak curse, one you could crush under your shoe, sent your heart racing and your wide eyes darting around in panic.

You hated it more than anything, but you didn’t run.

Where could you even go?

You refused to put your family at risk again. They had protected you for so long, even when it meant endangering themselves. Even if this new world rejected you, at least your presence here wouldn’t jeopardize them like before.

So, you gritted your teeth and endured, swallowing the bitterness of being reduced to nothing more than a tool—a "breeding mare" to be kept alive for future use.

All for your family.

With a deep breath, you pushed the painful memories aside, exhaling slowly as you forced yourself to refocus on the present.

Things are different now though with Nanami in your corner believing in you.

“I-I remember the checklist Ken, b-but how will I know it’s really you?”

There’s a tense pause before Nanami speaks again, the fatigue edged in his tone given the late hour rationalizes the delay in your mind. 

“Everything will be okay Bun, you’ll know, I promise. Just use the checklist like we practiced, doll. I believe in you.”

Clutching onto Nanami’s shirt, you nod your head despite him being unable to see it through the door. 

*sniff* ”...m’kay.”

You can do this! 

Nanami believed in you.

Like he always did.

From the very start of him becoming your mentor by the end of your second year in Jujutsu society.

You arrived to him as quite the pitiful little thing. Dejected and broken, you shrank yourself into being as obedient as possible. No one wanted to deal with the headache of looking after you—the three mentors in two different office locations before finally being transferred to Tokyo was proof of that.

Unceremoniously handed over to Nanami, you were to be his problem. He was to look after you until you learned to control your powers enough to be married off.

Nanami had been semi-retired since recovering from an unfortunate incident with a curse that had caused the entire left side of his body to be burned, he was lucky to keep his eye. His first real assignment back and he had to be burdened with you. Yet despite your many short-comings as a sorcerer, you were never a joke to Nanami. Nanami did not seem to mind that you had a soul far too sensitive and gentle for any real battle. 

Ironically enough, you actually begin to love the nickname 'Bunny' when he calls you it. The name was always accompanied by a small endearing smile that soothed your spooked nerves, as he reassures you that he too ’finds the world a little too harsh and unpredictable at times.’

Nanami would always tell you—‘Being afraid isn't a weakness—it’s proof that you care, that you are alive and want to continue to live—that’s what we are fighting for. You just do it in your own way Bunny, don’t worry about the rest.’ 

With the patience that would rival a saint, Nanami never ridiculed nor expressed disappointment in your failures, they weren’t failures he would tell you—only roadblocks for you to overcome. He’d overcome his injuries, like you could overcome your fears.

And you had. 

Clinging to him like a lifeline, you felt you owe the semi-normal life you live now to his support and unwavering belief in you. Over the past three years with him, you have conquered so many of your fears.

Nevertheless, it still wasn’t enough to keep this doppelgänger fiasco from regressing you back to the state you were in before meeting Nanami. Technically someone of your strength should have been out there fighting and exercising curses too.

Even though most doppels were low-level curses, their energy patterns mimicked their human counterparts, and their sheer numbers were overwhelming. The fear of making a mistake and accidentally killing a real human left you paralyzed. 

The higher ups quickly decided you’d be better off waiting in quarantine, like a civilian. 

For the first time in a long time you feel like a nuisance. You knew that Nanami would have to take on your burdens as he always did, now working harder than ever. 

You missed Nanami terribly over the last few days so you just want this to be your sweet boyfriend so badly, but this is the first time you've had to do this. 

Even with all the times you and Nanami practiced, preparing for this very moment, you still don’t know if you can go through with it.

Sniffling back tears, you steady yourself. 

The first thing on the list was to check his appearance. 

Starting from the top, there wasn’t even a hair out of place. Nanami looks dashing with his slicked back 7:3 salaryman style with slightly tapered sides, the density somewhat thinner on his injured left side. You bite your lip, as your gaze slides lower, his goggle glasses were the right shade and color. As well, with the exception of his scarring, his face nor body had no abnormal markings or features, just his familiar strong jawline set into a firm neutral expression. 

Nanami’s clothing passed inspection too. Not a wrinkle in sight. He wears his speckled yellow print tie and nicely pressed suit, with a single brown leather glove on his left hand to protect his marred thinned skin during battles, same as always. Nanami, although often worn by the end of the day, always kept a neat, well put-together appearance.

“Well, my love?”

The small smile that edges his lips makes you bounce on your toes and you can’t wait to let him in and jump into his arms but you know you still have one more set of checks to be done.

“You passed, Ken.. but mmm, we’re not done yet! N-Next are the questions!”

You hear Nanami lightly chuckle at the door clearly finding your nervous determination to correctly identify him endearing. 

And just as you were hoping for, Nanami passes the questions with flying colors too. 

“Alright doll, are you satisfied that it’s me? May I come in now?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb you don’t know why you are still wavering.

He’d answered all the questions right and his appearance was flawless from what you could tell. 

However something just didn’t feel right and a renewed panic shoots down your spine. 

“Um, IDK… Ken, I-I want it to be you and I think it's you…b-but…”

Looking away, you pressed your forehead against the door unsure of what to do next. 

“Don’t think too hard now about it Bunny, you’ll start second guessing yourself again.”

Nanami answered all the questions correctly, just as the real Nanami would.

So why couldn’t you shake this feeling of something being off? 

You whimper as you just want to hold him and look up into his soft brown—and it dawned on you.

His eyes!

“T-Take off your glasses, Ken.”

A heavy silence follows, longer and far more tense than the one before.

“S-Show me your eyes Kento…please? T-Then I’ll believe it's you, then I’ll let you in. I promise!”

You're desperate to see his warm hazel eyes, even if they were strained with an exerted tinge of red—it was the final thing you needed to calm your worried heart and know for sure. 

You’d spent so much time gazing up into them, there's no way even the most perfect clone could duplicate them for you.

“Now, my Bunny…” 

Nanami’s tone shifted, turning cold and devoid of the usual warmth—a chilling, almost menacing edge that wrecked shivers down your spine, as if the person speaking wasn’t him at all.

“...why would you ask that of me? Open the door for me lil’ Bunny. I’m beginning to lose my patience with you.”

Nanami? Losing his patience…?

Your brows furrowed as the ominous tension hits you like a pound of bricks, the cracks in the doppelgänger's facade rapidly crumbling away.

Swallowing a hard lump, you have to confirm it with your own eyes.

“S-Show me!”

Nanami just chuckles, removing his glasses to reveal himself as a doppelgänger with two pitch-black holes oozing thick, dark fluid where his gentle brown eyes should be. The doppel hears your sobs through the door, and you stumble back, falling on your ass as the door frame trembles from the curse rattling against the barrier.

The curse was strong, stronger than normal reportings and before you knew it the door flew open, almost completely off the hinges. However it wasn’t enough to break your barrier and have them enter.

“Heh, didn’t think you would suspect me at all—dealing with someone as weak-minded as you.” 

Fear wrecks through your body as the words coming from the clone sound more distorted and monstrous than ever.

“Now when I do get in there, you’re really going to regret it—you pathetic sniveling skinbag. I think I’ll peel it off you slowly, skin you just like a little rabbit, Bunny. Would you like to be my meal?”

Tears spill freely now, your bleary eyes blinking against the steady flow. Yet, for the first time, the emotion rising in your chest isn’t just fear—it’s anger. Raw and undeniable.

This disgusting curse really had the audacity to mimic your precious Nanami!

Resolute, your legs shake like a newborn fawn yet you still manage to draw yourself to your feet. Your eyes are closed, screwed shut as you attempt to drown out its taunts and provocations. But you can still sense it before you, which was good because you didn’t want to have to look at the grotesque form of the person who meant the most to you any longer than you had to.

“Awe, did I upset the wittle Bunny?” 

The doppelgänger's voice returned to a pitch similar to Nanami's, making a mockery of the both of you further before his voice turned more twisted than ever. 

“Because I guarantee the huge disappointment you are is even more upsetting to the real Nanami.”

“No, that’s not true! The real Nanami would never say that!”

Sparks dance at your fingertips as you concentrate, pouring your energy into the barrier. You have the strength, but his cutting insults and the relentless pounding against the shield gnaw at your focus. Doubt creeps in, and your energy falters, flickering as you fight to hold onto your resolve.

Come on girl, get it together now!

Just as Nanami taught you, you steady your mind with slow, deliberate breaths, shutting out the doppelgänger’s cruel taunts. The deep, calming flow of air through the back of your throat soothes your heart, which had been pounding like a drum, and sends a surge of energy coursing through your veins. With each exhale, your power gathers—stronger, sharper, and more focused than before.

Yet, as your eyes finally open and you ready yourself to unleash your ability, the doppelgänger is suddenly silenced. Going mute before a choked gurgle escapes its lips before its head splits into pieces—cut down by Nanami’s precise ratio technique.

The new Nanami that appears before you immediately removes his glasses, and when you meet his soft hazel eyes, they’re exactly as you remembered: gentle, tender, and reassuring.

There’s no doubt about!

He’s the real deal—he’s your Nanami!

Instantly dropping the barrier, Nanami catches you as you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Evening Bunny, my heart.” 

Hearing the words coming from him, the actual Nanami, has you falling apart in his arms ugly crying into his chest with happiness and relief. 

But your tears could never be ugly to the real Nanami, who holds you tighter as he coos how proud he is of you and how he’s so sorry for being late and leaving you all alone for so long. 

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

The fact stands, Nanami finds immense beauty in your tears. 

And although he has never failed to pronounce your beauty no matter how much of a distressed state you were in, the direct affection for your cries isn’t something he’d ever elaborate on.

Nanami is terrified of what he might say. 

The underlying truth being that you awoke a ferociously strong lust in the form of cuteness aggression whenever Nanami saw even the tiniest bit of wetness dew on your lids.

“HAA! D-Daddy, D-Daddy puhlease! I-I cannnnnnn’t!”

However, the flowing tears that Nanami could pull from your sweet puffy eyes while you so dutifully bounce on his cock are definitely his favorite. 

Once in his arms you had pulled him down to the floor, ripping off all his clothes as the rush of varying emotions had gone straight to your pussy. And of course, you being the perfect peach you were for him, volunteered to ride him—without a condom—for the first time.

You claimed you wanted to feel all of the him inside you, no more barriers between the two of you. 

Nanami certainly is more than happy to oblige you as always. 

Mounting him, your manicured nails find purchase on his solid abdominals for leverage, assisting your feet planted on the ground as you bounced—much like an actual bunny—on his cock, feeling the pulse of every vein dragging along your walls. 

This was another reason loved to call you Bunny as you certainly wanted to fuck like one.

“Hm? Wasn’t it you? My slutty doll, who begged to ride me though, pet?”  

Your pretty mewls of protest only make him harder as your gooey cunt quivers when he refers to you as his ‘pet’.

A soft girl to the core despite the strength you possess, you loved the way Nanami claimed you by calling you his pet. There was a comforting simplicity in it—no expectations, no pressure to be anything but yourself. 

Just the quiet assurance that he would care for you, exactly as you are.

This was evident by all the affection he would shower you with daily as well as the pretty pink leather collar with a hollow rose gold heart that said “Bunny” in matching rose gold cursive. You'd been wearing it this entire time, wanting to greet him at the door with it on.

“You can Bunny. How many times must I tell you, my love? This is what you were waiting for, yes? Having the nerve to play with my pussy before I came home—you weren't even wearing panties under my shirt, pet.”

By now Nanami's shirt has been long discarded from your body. You are completely bare save for the thick leg warmers digging into your plush thighs and your collar twinkling in the dim living room lighting. 

You knew exactly what you were doing too, fully aware of how much he loved seeing you in his oversized undershirt. The material, drenched in the musk from a hard day's work, hung loosely over you, draping your curves perfectly to tease and captivate.

You were deadly to him.

In combination with the tights you wear revealing just a fleeting silver of skin with each subtle step ignited a feral dominating urge Nanami otherwise tried to keep in check. A guaranteed way for your pussy to end up stuffed and your ass spanked as he folded you over the nearest piece of furniture.

It goes without saying you wouldn’t greet him after so long wearing anything else—you even naughtily played with your pussy earlier so you'd could have him inside of you as we walked through the door.

Likewise, you know the dedicated efforts you exert now that has sweat glistening off your jiggling tits, core muscles clenching for stability and leaves you panting, pleases him to watch as well.

Nanami grins lovingly at your labors, he is convince you have to be a masochist at heart. As big of a scaredy cat as you are, you rarely ever run from his cock.

Even now when the force needed to bully his thickness into your slick pussy over and over had your tongue lolling out and your eyes lodged deep into the back of your skull murmuring gibberish.

You’d easily fuck yourself dumb for him.

You still persist, even when it feels like his immense girth might split you into two from the intensity of your pleasure. Being with Nanami is the first time since entering the Jujutsu world where you didn’t feel alone, where someone didn’t mock or ridicule you or expect you to be a tool for their benefit. 

So you’d push through for him, through anything. 

Even though your stomach flutters with butterflies full of uneasy anticipation every time you’d plead with your burning thighs to lift you once more—knowing soon the laws of gravity would prevail and you'll have the very wind knocked out of you when your cervix slams down hard onto his portly tip.

“Always such a sweet slutty girl for me, my love…” 

One of his hands strokes your calf encouragingly while the other runs along the bend in your knee, briefly toying with the hem of fabric at your thighs, before resting on your belly. Nanami is too enthralled by the way your stomach bulges and deflates again, his cock scraping along your gummy walls making a complete mess of you.

“....Can you feel me here too, pet?”

When Nanami hands dip into the soft rolls of your tummy just below your navel it’s intentional and directly over your g spot. Your nails dig into his abdominals as you sew your eyes shut. You're oh so close to cumming and you want to milk Nanami’s cock, twitching against your womb, for all its worth.

“K—HNN!”

“What was that? Speak up my love, or I won’t be able to hear you over your pretty crybaby pussy, you aren’t going to let her be louder than you, hm?”

Nanami gifts your ass with a firm open palmed smack.

“HAAA—MMMMN—Not f-fair K-Knghh!”  

The creamy squelching of your pussy threatens to cry even louder as you continuously impale yourself on his cock. You pout crying through barely intelligible complaints but your lustful hips never stop, no matter how much they ache from spreading wide across his broad pelvis.

You could barely think, let alone form words so if your pussy wanted to speak up for you in this case, you’d let her. You were too busy trying to remember to breathe, spittle depositing on the sides of your lips from the way you swore you had somehow pushed Nanami’s long dick all the up up into your ribcage. 

His big strong hand cups your cheek, thumb gently swiping through your tears and sweat as Nanami encourages you to keep going for him. The act seems so lovingly selfless but truly it’s to push the strands of hair away from covering your face so Nanami could see your wild tears unhindered. 

Nanami understands quite well how twisted it is of him to get off on your tears to the extent he does. That said, it’s those moments of softness, when you are at your most fragile and desperate, are the ones he cherished above all others.

Those were the moments you only look to him.

You not only made Nanami feel wanted—you made him feel needed. 

Truthfully, even now he felt as if he was undeserving of all your perfection. It was clear, you were a diamond in the rough. Beautiful, strong, and a rather sweet and friendly disposition once you felt comfortable enough in your surroundings to open up. Not to mention you had youth on your side, just barely reaching your mid-twenties while Nanami was well into his thirties. 

Aging and horrifically disfigured on his left side, he had long resigned himself to solitude even before his disfigurement. Nanami being the consummate workaholic salaryman of Jujutsu society, he already had no life beyond his job responsibilities.

Pathetically, even in his rare moments of daydreaming—imagining the soft beaches of Malaysia he had more than enough vacation days accrued to visit—he walked those sandy shores alone in his mind.

Nanami, if anything, was a realist. He knew he might as well be a curse among regular civilians given his appearance now. He pretends even now not to notice the double take stares or whispers, the looks from sympathy to pure horror.  

So it's no surprise Nanami never dared to consider anything other than his reality.

Until you came along and changed that.

“MNNNN K-KEN—M’GONNACUMM’GONNACUM!”

Your words slur as your ass slams down in his lap with more fervor. The increase in friction of your clit against his pubic bone causes your squirt along with the milky fluids at the base of his shaft to gush everywhere. Your arousals soil his torso and causes your soggy tights to slouch around your thighs.

Your hands lose traction in the mess you made on Nanami's taut stomach, the muscles flexing and quivering from your frantic slippery gropes at his flesh. Nanami's balls grow more sore with every impact of your flesh rippling together. His sack is so eager to release the viscous surge of syrupy white fluids he’d built up in his absence.  

Completely on autopilot, his words barely register. It isn’t until Nanami’s voice cracks, repeating himself twice more, that his words finally break through the haze of ecstasy clouding your mind.

“HAAA—Can’t stawppp—FFFFUH—jus’ put it in m’tummy d-daddy!”

As if on the command of your words and spasming cunt reaching its spine-tingling nirvana, he does just that. Grunting loudly and throwing his head back, Nanami almost chokes on his own spit from how tight a hold your filthy pussy has on him when the geyser in his loins suddenly bursts, sloshing inside you.

A keen cry slips from your lips at the feeling of his hot cum swirling in your womb, marking you. Nanami fills your pussy to absolute capacity until dribbles of cum trickle out of your hole. As your adrenaline breaks its crest you can now feel the arches of your feet screaming at you as your legs can no longer support yourself. Exhausted you fall forward onto his bare sweat-slicked chest, your mission finally complete. 

Nanami too for a moment feels sated. However as soon as you caught your breath you just had to peer up from his chest to bashfully give him a small innocent smile like you weren’t just brazenly riding his dick like a starved cockhungry whore.

“Missed you, Ken.”

You whimpered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the scarred skin over his heart before resting your cheek there. Your heart-eyed gaze locks with his, unwavering and full of loving devotion.

Fuck.  

Something snaps and a tyrannical urge tingles on the tip of Nanami's every nerve, ignited by sweet adorable nature.

Pulling you into a kiss you Nanami as he wholly devours you, not allowing you rest. The taste of your slobbering moans into his mouth are simply addicting and he could spend hours teasing and suckling on your cute little tongue if you’d allow him.

Rolling you under him and onto your back in a mating press, you mewl at the electricity shooting through your cunt upon his length swelling again. This position makes it easy for his cock to restretch your sloppy spongy core he thrusts slow and deep into you. 

Your hands instantly push against his hips, squirming while trying to prevent him from disturbing your still spasming womb. 

Yet Nanami was having none of it. Restraining both your hands in one of his own overhead.

“I know my pretty pussy isn’t acting all scared of cock now? Not after the way she greedily drained me and gobbled up my seed.”

Now was Nanami’s turn to savor every part of you.

There’s fresh sobs that spill down your puffy face again when his cockhead roughly prods into your cervix. 

“T-That’s it, let em all out—HAAA—Show Daddy how much that crybaby pussy loves getting slutted out, pet,” 

Nanami's words amplify the quivering of your cunt with each new thrust spurring his hips to slam back into yours. The slick moisture on his balls causes a harsh sting every time they slap against your ass and encourages him to go faster, increasing your tears and pleasure.

Getting off on you being his tight wet little fleshlight, Nanami considers if he's still too twisted to be with you.

Had the burns from the incineration of half his body seared him so severely it sullied his very soul into the sadistic form it is now?

The truth lies in the withheld secret that Nanami had, in fact, stalked his own doppelgänger, following it all the way to your high-rise condo. He could have stopped the creature long before it ever reached your door. However his own darkness—slimy and sadistic—held him back.

A part of him feels ashamed, guilty for standing by and allowing your tears when he could have prevented them. But he did truly believe in you. Nanami was knew you were far stronger than you gave yourself credit for, and, in his own flawed way, he wanted to show you that strength.

You could have easily blasted his doppelganger curse to hell, yet Nanami wasn’t such a beast he'd traumatize you by making you harm something that looked so much like him.

No, he only truly enjoyed your tears when you were under him like this, so drunk off his cock you’d forget about any other fear.

"K-K-FUH—NNN!"

Your hands are still above your head as Nanami continues to pound you like a madman. Your mouth gapes open to wordless cries that beg him to let you cum. The lewd gurgles and slurps from your pussy wringing out his cock echo in your ears—she's sobbing enough for the both of you and it’s mozart to Nanami’s ears.

Honestly, Nanami never wanted to be apart from you that long ever again. 

It’s In that moment, deep in your guts as your ecstasy renders you dumb, chest arching up like a beacon. Nanami realizes that your presence is as essential to his existence as the sun itself.

You are his sun.

Your warmth is more comforting, tempering his traumas and offering a soothing peace he never imagined was possible. The tranquility he envisions, basking in under golden rays, only matter if you’re beside him sharing in that serenity.

Now when Nanami pictures himself walking carefree along sandy shores in his mind's eye, you’re there with him, hand in hand.

The thought of you being married off to some ancient sorcerer clan, destined for mistreatment, fills him with a quiet rage. He’d die before allowing that to happen.

No—he would make you his. Forever. 

Because now, the idea of a life without you feels unbearable and from the desperate way you creamed on him as if his cum was sustenance for your needy succubus pussy let’s him know you feel the same way even if you can't verbalize it in the moment. 

Nanami had known how you felt ever since the day you first met Gojo. He’d managed to keep you off Gojo’s radar for 4 months, but hiding you forever was impossible. When you finally crossed paths, Gojo, ever the smarmy jester, wasted no time teasing and flirting with you relentlessly, despite your timid nature.

Yet things had taken an unexpected turn when Gojo casually suggested that a sorcerer of your grade should train with him instead. Nanami stood next to you stoically, his face in a hard line. He knew Gojo wasn’t entirely wrong—you likely would progress faster under his tutelage even though he'd likely terrorize your nerves in the process. With Gojo, you wouldn’t have to endure training sessions cut short by Nanami’s bouts of phantom pain or the constant disruptions caused by the unpredictable chills and sweats that had plagued him since losing the ability to regulate half his body temperature.

Still, neither of them could have anticipated your reaction.

The moment Gojo made the suggestion, fat tears brimmed in your eyes, spilling over in seconds. Nanami’s heart shattered into pieces as your small fist clung desperately to sleeve like a lifeline. Your plump bottom lip trembled, and when you finally spoke, your dejected voice was so soft it was barely more than a whisper.

“You're going to get rid of me too, Nanami?”

The question came out more like a statement, like you'd expected him to eventually. It's in that instant that the damn Nanami’s carefully restrained feelings broke. His heart ached with a deeper affection he could no longer deny. Gojo, for his part, immediately backed off, though he made it a point to tease Nanami mercilessly afterward.

“Your little crybaby bunny got so upset thinking I’d steal them away.”

Frankly, as long as Gojo left you alone, Nanami didn’t care what the hell he said nor anyone said or did. All that mattered was you staying by his side.

Nanami decides he's had enough as a new clarity washes over him.

Fuck these doppelgangers. 

Fuck his job. 

And most importantly?

Fuck the Jujutsu world.

Nanami knew Gojo had been dicking around for whatever reason when they should have been rid of these doppelgangers long before this point. However, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, refusing to be apart from you working himself to the bone if Gojo was also not taking this seriously.

For the first-time in his career as as sorcerer—Nanami is taking a vacation.

He's booking 2 first-class tickets to Malaysia—tomorrow.

“Bunny, we’ll have to get you a new collar, my pet. Wouldn’t want the metal to heat up too much on the beach and scar your perfect skin.”

Wha? A beach? 

"Hnnn—m'kay K-Ken..."

Agreeing to anything, you're reduced to goo from the way Nanami has been tearing through your guts like he was in a trance.

You have zero clue what Nanami is talking about.

However, that's probably for the best to be honest.

Otherwise the amount of nervous, apprehensive tears that would leak from your eyes upon learning his plans to bust your pussy wide open like a coconut over and over on a public beach of all places would surely have earned you three more rounds.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚏��𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘! 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒—𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎-𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚊. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔—𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

lmk what you think~!

comment and reblog! next up a no-nut-nov multific!

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

[zippidi-dooda]

In the early stages of going over to meet Bakugou's parents you were visibly uncomfortable, nervous, and always coming up with an excuse to postpone the visits.

Your heart was beating in your chest, hands clammy, eyes almost watery. And even though they were endlessly nice and welcoming towards you, something wouldn't let you shake the fear of being around them and you barely uttered a word, the rides home going with complete silence between you and him.

Bakugou of course had noticed and tried asking you about it, but then you'd feel that lump in your throat, not wanting to explain why you were always so anxious when it came to his parents since you didn't even know the reason yourself, you'd quickly change the subject or use any excuse to leave the room.

The avoidance irked him beyond belief, he wanted to snap and ask his questions straight out ... but he didn't want to run the risk of you crying. So, he sends a text explaining the situation to his parents and asks for advice, how should he approach this?

And the next time you visit, he and his father conveniently have to run out for an errand. You of course rushed to offer to go with them, you couldn't bear the idea of being in Bakugou's home without Bakugou, but they refused saying it'd be rude to make the guest do things for them. So, you were stuck. Alone. With Bakugou's mother sitting on the couch right across from you ....

You look down at your sweaty palms clutching your pants, head racing and praying to God she wouldn't want to talk.

And to your relief, she leaves the room.

Ahh ... you'll live to see another day.

Clink!

You look up slightly to see a plate full of steaming cookies on the coffee table in front of you.

Then you feel the cushion sink next to you and a caramelized floral scent envelops you.

"Glad we got rid of 'em! That boy would have a fit if I showed you these with him around."

Mitsuki was sitting right next to you.

"Well? Go on, grab some, it's rude not to try your host's treats. Brat doesn't like sweets, but these are Katsuki's favorites, I'll give you the recipe later." She winks.

You were dazed for a moment before grabbing one out of fear politeness.

The older lady crosses her legs, opening a thick album you hadn't noticed she'd been carrying and points towards a photo in the bottom right.

"This here is from when we got to bring Katsuki home for the first time. I knew then and there he'd be a pain in my ass. Ugly thing isn't he?"

... what a way to talk about your child.

You lean over a bit to take a look. And a smile makes it's way across your lips. He wasn't the prettiest thing, no, but since you loved him you couldn't help feeling happy at the sight.

She points to another one, "This here is when I caught him getting into my makeup. Masaru had taken the picture since he wasn't paying attention then showed it to me. Nearly chased him down the block when I saw it. Little Bastard was always getting into everything he shouldn't have."

You chuckled through your nose, finally taking a bite of the cookie.

It tasted amazing.

Mitsuki continued to flip through the album, telling you the stories that came with each photo, her way of storytelling garnering a bit a laughter from you and eventually you had your feet tucked on the couch and cheek resting on her shoulder simply listening to her talk. You hadn't even noticed it happen.

She didn't ask you questions about yourself, didn't point out your change in behavior, or even glance your way. It was almost as if you weren't even there. But, you were greatful for that. And she knew.

She had stood when she heard the front door beginning to open and looked at you, raising a finger to her lips, "don't tell Katsuki 'bout this, kay?"

You smiled and nodded, turning around to watch the pair as they walked in.

That was the first time you truly felt comfortable in the Bakugou household.

And you were soon looking forward to each visit, much to Katsuki's relief.

Well, it was relief at first when you were starting to converse and interact more, taking the time to get close to his mom and his dad and asking him about his family on your own.

But then he knew you were getting too close to his family, especially his mom, when you started sighing and asking questions like "Oh, what happened to the Katsuki who would sing just cause he felt like it" or saying things like "You know I think I'm happy I didn't meet you as a kid, we wouldn't have gotten along as well" or even pointing out toys to him like "look, it's just like the one you had as in the past, right?"

Then he knew exactly what made you open up to his family, "Hag's been showing you that damn album, hasn't she?"

And suddenly he didn't know if he should be mad or greatful towards his parents for coming up with their plan to help you grow comfortable around them.

[thewidowsledger]

Agent

© thewidowsledger - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Undercover Agent!Natasha Romanoff x Mob boss!Female Reader

Word count: 693

Tags | Warnings: None, is the sexual tension in the room with us (?)

Author's Note: This is not a fic, more like a drabble👉👈 I hate how so many good ideas are running in my mind when I am heart broken, so just let me spoil y'all as long as I can :))

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"Go home, get some rest."

Natasha lingers by the doorway, shifting uncomfortably. Her eyes darted around the room, and her clasped hands fidget behind her back.

"Nat." You called.

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe and stealing a glance out the window.

"Natasha." You called again, much firmer this time.

Ah, she's in shit now. She knows damn well she's in deep trouble when she hears her full name being used especially by you. "Sorry, boss, guess I'm…distracted."

"That much is obvious." You offer a brief smile from your desk, but it fades just as quickly. "What's wrong, Natasha?"

Oh well, the list goes on and on. Where to begin? First, she's an undercover agent walking a tightrope, knowing her bosses are ready to pull the plug on the operation. Second, she's not a very good agent, since she became too attached to her target, the woman she's been guarding for six months. Lastly, she's an agent, and she's wondering if she should be.

Not that the answer is to join organised crime, either. But she's probably not as…objective as she used to be.

"I'm not sure about tomorrow," she finally admits. She doesn't like lying to you.

"What makes you unsure?"

Tomorrow looms large. The brass is forcing her hand. Natasha already delayed delivering you to them three times, and tomorrow, in the middle of your biggest land trade in years, her fellow agents are going to storm the place. There will be chaos, and you're likely to get caught in the crossfire. And despite her divided loyalties, she knows she'll put her life on the line to protect you. Whether they will question her credibility if she's a traitor or not.

Well all because she's just the agent who fell for her target—the Romeo of the operation. She just hopes that the story doesn't end in tragedy.

"Are we sure the meeting place is secured?"

"You went with Bucky to secure it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"You're nervous," you interrupt smoothly. Your smile is as polished as your satin night dress and the faint, fabricated English accent you wear like armor. Natasha knows it's a front—like her own.

"Can't help it," she shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Your heels click on the floor. The sound haunts her in her dreams.

"I know you can't." You almost sound like you're soothing her. "But try not to let it cloud your judgement."

She nods, brushing a speck off her jacket. It's the best she's ever dressed in her life, all thanks to you. Steve loves to tease her about it, especially the set of black shirt she's never ran out.

You blink as she catches your hand before you can pull away from her completely. "Natasha."

"You," she begins, breaking the strict rule against using names—real or fake—in the office. But you had told her your name yourself, and it's been etched into her mind ever since, like a treasure on a pedestal. "Just…think about tomorrow again."

She meets your gaze, both faces unreadable. Natasha's mastery of concealing emotions comes from years of training, while yours seems effortless. "You're concerned about me?"

She inhales, squeezing your hand tighter. Finally free to tell the truth, she says, "your safety is my top priority."

Something changes in those eyes of yours, but she can't quite tell what it is.

Natasha blinks as you lean in, pressing a light yet deliberate kiss to her cheek. She fights to keep her composure, knowing that you, the boss, rarely shows affection—mercy even less so. But her focus is entirely on calming the storm of butterflies in her stomach.

Oh idiot Romeo, indeed.

You lock eyes with her, your hand steady on her cheek. "We'll be fine," you say with unwavering confidence.

She holds your gaze, resisting the urge to hope for another kiss. Slowly, she lets go of your hand. "If you say so, boss."

You arch a brow. "Back to boss, is it?"

She felt a smirk but more like a smile tug at her lips. "Would you rather I call you something else?"

"Hm, mommy sounds good or perhaps mistress..." A sly smirk crept in your face. Then your hand glides down her chest, skimming over her leather jacket until it rests on the concealed weapon at her belt.

"You tell me, agent."

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Give me more.

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Words count: 2527 Rating: +18, MDNI

Summary: You're ovulating and can't calm down, just the night before Frankie leaves for a two-day camping trip with the boys for Santi's birthday... luckily Frankie is willing to help you... too much, even.

Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, a lot of kissing, female masturbation (on Frankie's leg hehehe), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare, reader has breasts and vagina, wears a baby doll and a thong, she's able body, she doesn't blush, she has hair but it's not described and she has no other description, brief reader’s thought insert, marked in italics. Pussy pronouns. Pet names (baby, honey, good girl). Frankie is our PEK on a mission 🫡

A/N: This Frankie is the same as You look like a fun place to sit, but it can be read as a stand alone, there are only some mild references to the previous ff. (If you haven't read it yet though, I hope you do 👀♥️) I have a couple more ideas in mind for these two, I hope to have something out for the Christmas holidays at least. Thank you so much for loving these two in the previous story, especially to @harriedandharassed who read it and shared it like 3 times if I'm not mistaken, I'm so flattered and grateful. I hope this one works just as well as the first one. English is not my first language, I have no beta, I hope there aren't too many mistakes, please forgive me if there are. I'm open to any advice you want to give me to improve but please be kind. (you always are, tbh). Comments and reblogs are always welcome, you would make me so happy 🥹 I started a tag list, if you want to be added leave a comment. If you'd prefer to be tagged only on something specific I can definitely do that, just let me know.

Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you enjoy.

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Frankie...” you whisper in the dark.

“Yes?” he answers you in a thick sleepy voice

“Are you asleep?”

“Actually yes.”

“You're answering me, though.”

“Sweetheart...” he picks up his phone from the nightstand ”It's 3:00 a.m. What's wrong?”

“I can't sleep” you groan

“Come here, come on” you shift on his part of the bed and he holds you tightly against his body, you rest your head on his chest and surrender to his comforting embrace and the scent of his skin.

You hum “thank you”

He places a kiss on your forehead “sleep now”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sense of peace you feel wrapped in his strong arms, clasped to his body as warm as a furnace, one leg crossed over his, one arm wrapped around his waist.

It's amazing, really, so amazing that soon you begin to feel something else. a little shiver that runs under your skin, a little electric shock that goes through you all, and then a crescendo of wetness between your thighs.

You’re ovulating and you’re feral, simple as that.

You try not to mind it, to let it pass, not to be too demanding after he has already made you come twice tonight, once on the couch while you were watching a movie - well at least you tried, but you actually have no idea what the movie was about because you were too busy bouncing on his cock, which when you think back on it, it makes you laugh because it seems like a constant in your dating that you can't finish watching a movie without jumping on each other - and once as soon as you got into bed when he saw you coming out of the bathroom in a new babydoll and thong you bought especially for him.

Only two months ago neither of you could stand the other but now, as much as it still bothers you to admit it since he was the last person you thought you would end up with, you are completely and hopelessly smitten with him.

“Frankie,” you whisper, hoping he won't tell you off “can we kiss for a while? Just a little bit?”

It’s so early in the morning that he doesn't have the energy to be sarcastic as usual, he just replies “of course, baby”

He lowers himself on your face and kisses you on the lips, in a very tender but rather chaste way, he still looks half asleep. After a couple of minutes he stops and you sigh, resting your head back on his chest. 

I must let him sleep, you tell yourself. This man is tired, he has already fucked me twice, that should be enough for now. Yet no, it's not enough, you still crave more.

“Frankie.." you mumble on his chest.

“Mmm what is it again?” his voice is even deeper and rougher than usual, which literally sends you into raptures.

"I..." a glimpse of him between your legs as he eats your pussy flashes past your eyes, you squeeze them hard and admit "I want you"

“Still?” he doesn't have an angry tone, nor an irritated one, he's calm, quiet, definitely awake at this point because you feel his hands roam over your back, all the way down to your ass “you insatiable little minx. You know I have to get up in three hours.” 

“I know...but it's not fair, it's Saturday” 

‘You were there when I promised to go camping and fishing with the guys, right?’ You leverage your arms to reach his neck, resting your lips on his soft, amber skin ”mmmm yes” you groan.

He chuckles, as he squeezes your butt cheeks “you know I have to, it's Santi's birthday” 

You continue your run up his neck, slipping your hands under his shirt, caressing his back.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whisper in his ear, burying a hand in his dark curls, your leg tightening around him brushing your barely covered pussy on his leg. Frankie gasps at the sensation, as you begin to grind against his thigh. “It’s only for two days. Jesus, you really are a menace, you know that?” 

“Yeah, you like that about me” You coo.

He puts a hand on your neck, his thumb brushing your ear while his other fingers wrap around the base of your skull. “I sure do. Go ahead, honey, make a mess on me”

You’re grinding hard, the texture of your brand new thong is adding a delicious scratch between your clit and his skin. 

Ridiculous desperate moans escape your lips and he kisses you, letting them vibrate into his mouth. 

He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, which allows you to feel his warm skin, your clit throbbing against him, your dripping pussy heating from the contact.

You feel the tingle of your orgasm mount inside you, your mouth is wide open for him, your tongue feverishly entwined with his in a sweet struggle that leaves you breathless.

And you come, wave after wave, quivering against him, one of his strong arms keeps you in place while his other hand is still wrapped around your neck squeezing lightly on your pulse point.

Your breath is short and ragged, your body hot and tested and yet you feel like it’s not enough.

As soon as your breathing returns to normal you mutter “gosh...I want more” into his slightly sweaty t-shirt.

His voice comes out more high pitched than he would like, he opens his eyes wide and exclaims, "Baby, do you want to wreck even the last bit of me tonight?”

You giggle softly and coo “She’s aching, you know…”

You feel one of his hands kneading one of your ass cheeks and then sliding down to your pussy, massaging your folds from behind, wetting his fingers with your juices.

“Mmm that’s good” you whisper “but I still want more”

Frankie grunts, flipping you onto your back on the bed and getting on top of you. 

His eyes scan you in the dim light of your room, reading the lust on your face. “How much is she aching?” 

You whine, tighten your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer but Frankie doesn't budge an inch, he's too strong for you.

“Use your words, baby, I know you can.” His gaze is no longer clouded by sleep, it’s alert and authoritative and he pins you down. 

“A lot.” 

“Yeah? Does this wet pussy need me?” he goes down your chest kissing your skin left uncovered by the thin straps of your baby-doll. You moan again, you don't know how to do anything else, your head feels light and confused. 

"Answer me" he says leaving a bite on your shoulder. 

You squirm and a breathy "Yes" comes out of your throat.

You feel his cock swell against your thigh, A trickle of desire runs down between your legs, wetting the thong you're wearing underneath. It’s basically drenched at this point.

“What do you want me to do? Tell me what your naughty pussy needs" 

“Your tongue, your fingers…” you whine “Please, Frankie” 

One thing you learned right away about Frankie is that he really enjoys eating his girl out. 

He's not one of those men who do it just to get a blowjob in return. He's dedicated. He uses his tongue, his lips, his nose even, he compliments how you taste, how pretty your cunt is, how wet and warm she is under his tongue, he doesn't stop until you're left shaking and breathless beneath him, until he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

He really is a force of nature and blows your mind every single time. And not only at doing that, he is experienced and passionate in every field.

“Greedy”

He pulls back the duvet and the cool air hardens your nipples as he reaches between your legs, his lustful, tantalizing eyes peering down at you. 

His mouth brushes your inner thigh, slowly moving up from your knee to your groin, his beard tickling you deliciously, “is that what you want huh?” 

“Yes” you murmur ”yes, please.” 

His plump lips settle on your opening, he sticks out his tongue and licks from above the fabric. You moan, sinking a hand into his raven curls, pressing him against your cunt. 

He chuckles against your folds, sending an exquisite vibration through your body, slips his fingers into the elastic of your thong and slowly pulls it down. 

Your cunt throbs in anticipation as his tongue travels up your slit and you emit a deep “Fuck, yes” as soon as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking away the last bit of reasoning you had left. 

“Oh God, Frankie” 

He goes down again and comes back up, tongue flat out sliding over your wetness, once, twice, three, four times as an irrepressible heat spreads inside you again and then the tip of his tongue stops under your clit and he begins to jerk it quickly with close flicks.

His hand is open on your thigh, he slows down a bit when he feels your body tenses, goes back to teasing your opening and then starts tickling your bundle of nerves again.

You tug his hair, spreading your legs even wider to take in all that he wants to give you, melting under his ministration.

“Fuck, you’re so good, don’t stop” you whine and you see him grinning as he replies “I won’t, baby, I’m going to have a damn fucking meal out of this pussy”

His touch is careful, long laps and sucks on your clit, he knows how to alternate them, he seems to know your body and the way it reacts inside out.

Another thing you discovered about him is that he is great at listening and observing and very often guesses your needs and reactions before you express them. He immediately learned how you take your coffee, how you frown when something is bothering you, he knows that you need a particularly tight hug on Monday nights, and that on Friday nights you like to treat yourself to a drink to celebrate getting to the end of another work week.

Frankie is good, really good, you even start to really like quarreling with him, you like the way he stands up to you, the thrill of it and the amazing sex that usually comes right after. 

He brings you almost to the edge with his tongue without taking his eyes off your face, and then you feel two of his fingers nudging at your entrance “you want them huh?” 

“Yes” you breathe, almost on the verge of delirium and he teases “ask nicely baby, I haven’t heard that little magic word yet” 

You would roll your eyes if you were able to do that but right now all you feel is desire, desire to be full again with his fingers, desire to be fucked just like the way you like, desire to be his and only his. 

“Pl-please” you mutter and he whispers “here she is, my good girl” 

His index and middle finger start to stretch you, it seems like he’s taking all the time in the world while you’re trembling and begging to be satiated.

“Almost there pleasepleaseplease”you plead and he sinks a little bit more, up to half fingers, his other hand gripping on the soft skin on your tummy, keeping you in place while your back feels like a guitar’s string ready to snap.  

Your walls are clenching desperately around his fingers, impatient to have all but instead of giving you your long awaited release he comes out completely. 

"Fuck" you hiss. 

His lips are curved into a mocking smirk.

Your clit is swollen, your hole empty and the almost release is tingling all over your body like a latent fire that cannot be extinguished.

“Did you think I would make this easy for you?” He asks ironically.

You scoff “Goddamn,Frankie!” 

You don't know how he finds strength but he's making you pay for be so demanding, your pussy won't stop throbbing as he barely caresses you, feather light touches on your folds, deliberately ignoring your clit. 

You try to breathe deeply to calm down, but as soon as Frankie feels your body relax he returns to licking you, two fingers on your clit moving in circles. 

You're almost on the verge of tears when he brings you back to within an inch of your brink.

“Frankie, please” you cry “I can’t- fuck- I just can’t”

“Oh yes, you can. You wanted more? I’m going to give you exactly this so now shut up and let me do my job” he’s commanding now.

He’s slow and steady over your bundles of nerves and when you impossibly tense again his mouth is back on it, sucking and teasing with his tongue.

When he gives you your second orgasm he doesn't stop stimulating you as it washes over you, your back arches sharply, you’re gushing in his mouth and all over his face, your hand in his hair tugs to try to pull him away from you but he doesn't move, his lips stubbornly latched onto your clit, his hand firmly on your tummy while the other grips your thigh. 

He doesn't stop as you anchor yourself to the edge of the mattress trying to lift yourself up, your body twitching unbearably, he pulls you by your legs and brings you right back to where he wants you without taking his face off you, in fact sinking even more. “Frankie please, please, I can't” you feel tears stinging your eyes. 

You feel so sensitive it’s almost impossible to handle. 

“Ssssh you’re good” he says, detaching from you just long enough to say it, his beard and mustache glistening and soaked in your essence.

You squeeze your eyes, cover your mouth with your hand as you wail so gravelly it almost doesn’t sound your voice anymore. 

You're overstimulated, your body is sore, you murmur a tearful “please” again, and Frankie finally decides you've had enough. He pulls away from you and takes you in his arms as he whispers, “You're okay, honey,” caressing your back. Your labored breathing slowly returns to normal, giving way to a deep, dense feeling of gratification. 

Frankie definitely reached another level of dedication tonight. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks as he lifts your chin, inviting you to look at him. "Yes," you murmur, and he kisses you tenderly, "do you think I've given you enough to deal with my absence for two days?”

You giggle “I think it's enough to endure a week” and ruffle his hair kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip “But let me tell you something, though, someone they call Catfish who goes fishing… it's really odd”

The sound of his thunderous laugh vibrates against you “I hadn't thought about it but I must admit that you are right. Now let me sleep for...I don't even know what time it is anymore” He reaches out an arm to retrieve the phone on the nightstand and realizes that it is already five o'clock.

“Oh, fuck”

tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter 🌹

[florawrites-blog]

Shared moments - enhypen

-random moments where you and enhypen show affection to each other

Lee heeseung - 이희승

Scene 1

It had been a long, exhausting day. The tension in the air was palpable as you stood in the dimly lit room, your thoughts racing. Heeseung had been watching you closely, his concern evident in his eyes. Without a word, you suddenly leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a moment of pure impulse.

Heeseung froze, completely taken aback by your unexpected kiss. His breath hitched as he rested his forehead against yours, trying to process what had just happened. His heart pounded in his chest, and he found himself breathing heavily, caught between surprise and a surge of deep affection.

Unable to resist any longer, Heeseung gently cupped your face with both hands, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled you closer. This time, it was his turn. He kissed you, softly at first, but with growing passion, pouring all his love into that single, tender moment.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze met yours, filled with warmth and something even deeper. "I wasn't expecting that," he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. "But I'm so glad you did."

Scene 2

Heeseung was focused on washing the dishes, humming a soft tune under his breath. The kitchen was quiet, with only the sound of water running and dishes clinking lightly against each other.

You couldn’t resist the playful idea that popped into your mind. Sneaking up behind him, you gently patted him on the hip "thanks baby girl for doing the dishes" . Heeseung froze for a moment, utterly shocked. Then, a burst of laughter escaped him, the kind that filled the entire room with warmth.

He turned to you, still laughing, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Did you really just call me baby girl and patted my ass?" he asked, his voice full of playful disbelief.

You grinned, enjoying the moment. "I did. Just wanted to remind you that you deserve to be treated like royalty too."

Heeseung shook his head, still chuckling, as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I never know what to expect with you, but I love it."

Park jongseong - 박종성

Scene 1

You were sitting comfortably between Jay's thighs, your back resting against his chest as he gently blow-dried your hair. The warm air felt soothing as it flowed through your damp strands, and the rhythmic sound of the dryer was almost hypnotic.

With your novel open in your lap, you began to read aloud a passage that had caught your attention. “Listen to this,” you said, your voice soft. “The protagonist just found out that the person she’s been searching for her entire life was right beside her all along.”

Jay smiled as he focused on your hair, the warmth of your words and the dryer mixing together. “Sounds like a good twist,” he remarked, his voice filled with interest.

You nodded, continuing to read a little more before pausing to explain the characters and plot twists, sharing your thoughts and predictions. Jay listened attentively, occasionally adding his own comments, even though he wasn’t as familiar with the story.

The cozy moment between you two felt intimate, filled with warmth and shared interests. Jay's gentle care with your hair and his genuine interest in your novel made you feel cherished and understood.

Scene 2

Jay quietly tiptoed into the room, trying not to disturb you as you slept soundly. He leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead before heading out for practice. But just as he was about to pull away, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, mumbling something incoherent as you pulled him closer.

Jay chuckled softly, trying to disentangle himself without waking you. "Okay, my lady, I need you to let go now," he whispered, but you didn’t budge. "Okay, oh my gosh, let go," he added, more amused than anything.

You mumbled again but remained stubbornly asleep, your grip still firm around his neck. Jay sighed in mock defeat, carefully shifting to make sure you were comfortable before finally managing to extricate himself. He couldn’t help but smile as he left the room, your warmth lingering with him as he headed out.

Sim jaeyun = 심재윤

Scene 1

You slowly stirred awake, feeling the soft cushions of the couch beneath you and the familiar warmth of the blanket draped over your shoulders. But something felt different—there was a heavy weight pressing down on your lower back and hips. Still groggy, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted Jake fast asleep, his arms wrapped around your hips like they were his personal pillow, his face nuzzled into your back.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a mix of amusement and affection for his clingy antics. With a small sigh, you decided to just let him be, turning your head back and closing your eyes again, drifting back into sleep with the comforting warmth of Jake’s embrace still enveloping you.

Scene 2

Jake woke up at 3 a.m. to an empty bed, his sleepy mind immediately concerned. Groggily, he got up, his messy hair sticking up in all directions as he searched for you. Hearing faint noises from the bathroom, he walked over and stood by the door, rubbing his eyes like a tired child.

When you finally emerged, you were startled to see him waiting there, but before you could react, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm hungry," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You gave him the biggest side-eye ever, a mix of exasperation and amusement crossing your face. It was too early for this.

Park sunghoon - 박성훈

Scene 1

The night air was crisp as you and Sunghoon exited the glitzy event. The streetlights flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the bustling city. You took a step and winced—your heel had snapped off, leaving you stranded in your elegant dress.

“Great,” you muttered, looking down at your broken heel.

Sunghoon, always perceptive, noticed immediately. His eyes softened with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Yeah, just a little inconvenience,” you replied, trying to laugh it off.

Without hesitation, Sunghoon crouched down and offered you a hand. “Here, let me help you.”

You hesitated for a moment, but his earnest expression made you relent. He gently lifted you into his arms, cradling you in a bridal carry. Your heart fluttered as you felt his warmth envelop you.

As you both started walking toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. Some people’s eyes widened in surprise, while others grinned at the charming sight. But Sunghoon remained unfazed, his focus solely on making sure you were comfortable.

“I’m really sorry about this,” you said, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to cause such a scene.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Don’t worry about it. I’m honored to carry you. Besides, it’s kind of nice to be able to take care of you like this.”

His words warmed your heart more than the night air ever could. You nestled closer, enjoying the rare moment of vulnerability and closeness. The city lights seemed to blur as you felt completely at ease in his arms.

When you finally reached the hotel, Sunghoon gently set you down and helped you inside, still carrying that unwavering, protective smile. “Let’s get you settled,” he said, taking your hand.

As you walked toward the elevator, you glanced back at him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armor.”

Sunghoon laughed softly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his feelings. “Anytime. I’ll always be here for you.”

Scene 2

You were deeply engrossed in building a virtual home for your Sims family, carefully arranging furniture and selecting decor to create the perfect cozy space. The soft hum of your laptop and the occasional click of the mouse were the only sounds filling the room.

Without warning, you felt a light, playful nibble at the back of your neck. You barely flinched, accustomed to Sunghoon’s affectionate antics. He was always finding new ways to make you smile, and tonight was no different.

He settled behind you on the couch, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “What are you up to?” he murmured, his voice low and playful as he placed a gentle trail of kisses along your neck.

You didn’t look away from the screen but smiled softly. “Building our dream home in Sims,” you said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m making sure the house has everything we could ever want.”

Sunghoon chuckled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I’m glad you’re putting so much thought into it. I bet our Sims are going to have a fantastic life.”

You could feel his affection with every kiss, a soothing presence that added a personal touch to your virtual world. “They definitely will,” you agreed, still focused on perfecting the layout. “I’m even planning a little garden for us.”

His kisses paused for a moment, and he leaned in to rest his chin on your shoulder. “A garden sounds perfect. I can’t wait to see it.”

The tenderness of the moment was palpable, even as you continued to build and create. Sunghoon’s presence behind you was comforting and familiar, making the virtual family you were creating feel even more special.

“You’re the best,” you said, finally turning your head to give him a quick smile.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “And you’re the most amazing Sims architect.”

With one last kiss, he settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the moment as you continued to craft your virtual life together.

Kim sunoo - 김순우

Scene 1

After a full day of cooking, you had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, your head resting on your arms amidst a sea of dishes and the lingering aroma of your efforts. The soft light from the pendant lamps cast a gentle glow over you.

Sunoo entered the kitchen, immediately noticing the mess and, more importantly, you sleeping soundly. His heart melted at the sight. He approached quietly and leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “I love you,” he whispered tenderly.

You stirred slightly, a contented smile touching your lips even in your sleep. Sunoo smiled, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. He carefully draped a soft blanket over you, making sure you were cozy.

With one last affectionate glance, he left the kitchen to tidy up, feeling a deep sense of love and appreciation for the peaceful moment.

Scene 2

You and Sunoo had planned a cozy afternoon together, but Niki and Jungwon suddenly appeared, urgently needing Sunoo’s help with something. As they approached, you stepped in front of Sunoo, arms crossed and a determined expression on your face.

“Hey, he’s my boyfriend, not yours,” you said firmly. “Leave. Him. Alone.”

Sunoo’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at you. “Yes, yes, you heard her. I’m hers, so leave me alone.”

Niki and Jungwon exchanged exasperated glances and rolled their eyes. “lame loser” Ni-ki said. “well at least we have a life ni-ki.” you said defensive

Jungwon just stood there as he shrugged, clearly unfazed by your protective stance. “Enjoy your sunoo i guess.”

Yang jungwon - 양중원

Scene 1

In the cozy living room, Jungwon playfully teased you, his laughter mingling with the soft glow of the lamps. As you stood near the wall, he gently pressed you against it, his body a warm, teasing presence.

You grinned, seizing the moment. On your tiptoes, you leaned in and stole a quick kiss. Jungwon’s smirk widened as he let you take the lead, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

When you pulled back, one hand resting on his waist and the other on top of your head, he traced every detail of your face with a loving gaze. Without warning, he captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The intensity made your knees go weak, and you clung to him for support.

Jungwon finally pulled away, his eyes soft and warm. “what happened knees stopped working ,” he murmured with a smirk.

You hid your face in his chest avoiding eye contact . “shut up.”

He chuckled, pulling you into a tight embrace, savoring the tender moment.

Scene 2

In the soft, dim light of the bedroom, you and Jungwon were lounging on the bed, his body comfortably sprawled across your stomach. You were both relaxed, enjoying the quiet moment together.

Suddenly, a loud growl came from your stomach, breaking the tranquility. Jungwon’s head lifted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Uh-oh,” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Looks like someone’s hungry. Is that the baby communicating with me?”

Before you could respond, Jungwon’s lips descended on your stomach, planting a flurry of light kisses as if trying to pacify a tiny, imaginary baby. His playful antics made you laugh, the sound bubbling up despite the ticklish sensation.

“Seriously,” he said between kisses, his voice warm and full of affection, “I’m just making sure our little one knows how much I care.”

You chuckled, gently running your fingers through his hair. “If that’s what it takes to keep you entertained, I suppose I’ll let you keep kissing my tummy.”

Jungwon grinned up at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I’m always happy to entertain you and our little one. Besides, it’s a great excuse for some extra affection.”

With that, he rested his head back on your stomach, the room filled with a comfortable, loving atmosphere as you both settled in for the rest of the evening.

Ni- ki -남편

Scene 1

In the practice room, the sound of music and footsteps echoed off the walls as you walked ahead of Ni-ki. You were focused on reviewing some choreography, and your attention was on perfecting the moves.

Suddenly, you tripped over a stray piece of equipment on the floor, nearly losing your balance. Ni-ki, quick on his feet, reached out and grabbed the back of your shirt, trying to pull you back to safety.

However, in his eagerness to help, Ni-ki lost his own footing. Both of you ended up crashing onto the soft mats with a thud, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

Ni-ki looked up at you with a mischievous grin, still holding onto your shirt. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for a dramatic fall,” he joked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, propped up on your elbows. “Thanks for the rescue, even if it didn’t quite work out as planned.”

He helped you up, his grin widening. “Anytime! Maybe next time, we’ll stick to the choreography and avoid the spontaneous gymnastics.”

You both dusted yourselves off and exchanged amused glances. “Agreed. But at least we made practice a bit more entertaining.”

With that, you resumed your practice, the lighthearted mishap adding a touch of fun to your routine.

Scene 2

In the practice room, you were taking a short break while Ni-ki, exhausted from the day's activities, had fallen asleep midway through his meal. He lay sprawled on the floor, a cute pout on his lips as he napped, his half-eaten food beside him.

You gently fed him the last bites, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber. Just as you were about to finish, Jake entered the room. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight of Ni-ki’s adorable sleeping face and the way you were tenderly feeding him.

Unable to resist, Jake pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo, his grin spreading from ear to ear. “This is too cute!” he whispered to himself, then dialed Jay and Heeseung.

A few moments later, Jay and Heeseung arrived, curiosity written all over their faces. Jake, unable to contain his excitement, pointed to Ni-ki. “Look at Ni-ki! He’s totally losing his emoisim, ”

Jay and Heeseung chuckled as they looked over at the scene, their expressions softening at the sight of the sleeping Ni-ki. “yah why does he look so adorable,” Jay said, smiling.

Heeseung nodded in agreement. “He really does.”

Just then, you turned around, having noticed the small commotion. With a playful glare, you smacked the back of Jake’s head. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun at Ni-ki’s expense?”

Jake yelped in surprise, rubbing the back of his head. “Hey! I was just sharing the cuteness!”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. “Well, share a little less next time also its my cuteness i dont like to share it”

Jake, still grinning, nodded sheepishly. “Got it. I’ll make sure to be more discreet.”

[suiana]

Yay!

(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)

You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.

He's not what he looks to be.

Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.

You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.

His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.

You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.

But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.

Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.

Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.

You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.

"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"

You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?

"Hey! Are you not listening?"

You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.

"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."

"Hm..."

He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...

"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"

He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?

"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."

He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?

"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."

He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!

"W-what are you-"

"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."

He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?

You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.

"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."

He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!

"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"

He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.

But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.

And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.

He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.

"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"

Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.

Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.

Damn it, this was really the worst.

[mrsshabana]

um...

would you mind..continuing the werewolf gyutaro story?

i loved it a lot.

-liv

𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary After getting you pregnant Gyutaro refused to leave your side. So you happily invited him to live with you. However, living with a werewolf is more chaotic than you thought. But you'll have to get used to it as soon you'll have a little pack of your own running around. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, size difference, forbidden romance, pregnancy ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.2k words. Thank you for requesting this! I had a lot of fun revisiting this story from kinktober ♡

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Chapter three

"What are you doing?!" you gasp in utter horror to see the mess that your werewolf boyfriend has made in your home.

"I'm building us a nest!" He claims happily, his tail wagging behind him as he tugs on a pillow. Ripping the stuffing out.

"A nest?! You're a wolf, not a bird!"

"Trust me, my love - this will be perfect for you to rest in while you carry my young!"

You sigh, giving up as you know he means well. After that full moon Gyutaro refused to leave your side so you invited him to live with you in your small home. And ever since he's been here he's turned the place upside down.

Tracking in dirt from outside, tearing up your furniture, and even trying to bring whole carcasses inside - claiming that he wants to save them for later. To say the least, your life has been nothing but chaos.

"Come here and try it out with me!" He barks, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He looks so happy and unbothered by the mess he's made. His enthusiasm is more than enough for you to forget about it for now.

"Alright," you smile and step into the makeshift nest with him. It's surprisingly comfortable for what it is - a strange mass of sticks, leaves, pelts, and torn cushions. You have no idea how he managed to make it so comfortable but this thing feels better than your bed.

"Nice right? I worked on it all afternoon," he licks your face affectionately. You can't help but giggle from the sensation.

"So that's what you were doing this whole time? You did a good job, Gyu," you praise him and scratch behind his ears just like he likes it.

You don't understand why he did this in the first place. As far as you know wolves don't make nests. Did he learn this from someone else? Or is he just weird? You don't know, but the thought is what counts.

Gyutaro leans into your touch, enjoying the sensation of your fingers scratching his scalp. As he gets closer, his nose starts twitching curiously. Inhaling deeply until he's dragging his nose all over your torso, sniffing so hard that you swear he could suck up your shirt into his nostrils.

"What is it?" you say between laughs.

"My children," he smirks, "I can smell them inside you!"

"What?!" you're taken aback by his statement, "It's only been a few days, there's no way-"

"My seed is potent!!" He interrupts you, shouting triumphantly, "They said I was not fit to reproduce! That I'd never have pups of my own! But look at me now!!"

He grabs you by the waist and pulls you close, leaning down to nuzzle his face into your stomach where supposedly his babies are growing.

You can't help but smile seeing him this way. So proud of his new family, and so proud of himself for accomplishing something he never thought possible.

"Gyu," you hum as you continue rolling your fingers through his hair, "How many do you think we'll have?"

"Hm... my kind usually has three to five. But my mother only had me and my sister so two is also possible," he says excitedly, "But don't worry, I'll help you take care of them."

"I never doubted that you would," you smile, "I know you'll be a great father."

"I-I hope so," he blushes, suddenly becoming shy. It's cute how shy and adorable he is right now considering he was the complete opposite the night of the full moon.

It's strange how much Gyutaro has changed since that night. Before he was always brooding and on edge. He'd be happy when you were around but there was a dark aura around him. Whether that was caused by his pack, his family, or maybe something else - you aren't sure. But whatever it was it's not of a concern to him anymore. Because ever since he moved in with you he's been nothing but happy and optimistic. And seeing him this way warms your heart, making you more than excited for the future.

"Do you think they'll be like you? Or could they be human like me?" You ask a genuine question that has been on your mind ever since you realized you could be pregnant.

His eyes widen and his ears flatten, he scratches the back of his neck as if this is something he's never thought about. "Huh... I uh... I actually don't know. I think they will be werewolves but I'm not sure."

"Maybe they'll be half human half werewolf?"

"Maybe! I'd be happy no matter how they came out. Even if they were all human I'd still love them just the same! And I'd still teach them to hunt and play in the forest too!"

When you close your eyes you can imagine Gyutaro running through the forest with a group of toddlers. Carrying them on his shoulders when they get tired, and stopping to chase butterflies or look at pretty flowers. And in the afternoon they all come home covered in mud because dad thought it would be fun.

You couldn't ask for anything better than that. Sure it would be chaotic and messy, but being with Gyutaro has taught you that it's worth it. Dating a werewolf was never normal, clean, or organized. It's the complete opposite, but that's why you love him. And you can't wait for your children to be just the same way.

"I'd love that. I want them to be just like their dad," you whisper as you gently kiss the top of his head.

"I hope they're gentle and caring like you..." he blushes, "And pretty too."

"Aww, I hope they inherit your birthmarks so they'll be just as pretty as you."

"Wh-what did you say?" he looks up at you with wild eyes.

"I um... I said I hope they have your birthmarks," you hesitate, afraid that something you said may have angered him.

His eyes soften as they begin to well up with tears. His birthmarks were the one reason he could never find a mate. The one reason he was constantly rejected. Always told that his genes were unfavorable because of the hideous marks on his face. But you, you actually want him to pass on his birthmarks to your children? He can't believe his ears. Breaking into tears as he realizes that you aren't playing a cruel joke on him.

When you see him break down you begin to panic, "Wait, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you upset," you frantically apologize as you hold him close and try to comfort him.

"No Y/N... I'm not upset," he whimpers, "I'm the happiest I've ever been. No one's ever accepted me and all of my flaws..."

"Honey, they aren't flaws. They're what make you who you are, and I think you're perfect this way," you smile and kiss all over his face.

He wants to thank you a thousand times over. Say it so many times until his voice is raw. Instead, he holds you close and gently licks your cheek as if saying "Thank you" in his own unique way. Because saying out loud could never be enough.

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 10: Spanking

Jung Wooyoung x male reader

This guy

Stuff: Spanking DUH, possessive Wooyoung, bratty reader, brat taming? you two are friends, reader is an Ateez member, I think that's it.

TW: The reader is described as having a pretty fat ass, if you're insecure about your flat butt like I am, then maybe this story isn't for you. Some content maybe be difficult for bubble butt sensitive viewers.

Word Count: 1,064

You and Wooyoung are really good friends, closer than most other members in the group, and he secretly had a bit of a crush on you. You had a big one on him too, secretly teasing him by bending over or touching him a little too long. You knew exactly what you were doing, and you loved every moment of his flushed or sometimes even frustrated expression whenever you teased him.

Currently, you two are in dance practice with the rest of the members, practicing for the upcoming concert tour. As the lineup goes for this dance, you are practically right in front of Wooyoung for the song the whole time, so you had quite the idea. A terrible, horrible, very bad, brilliant idea.

Your shorts are always incredibly short, the target of many complaints from Wooyoung since it messes up his dancing, almost always giving him a hard on. So, with this particular number, you decided to turn the slut notch up to 11, bending over, sticking your ass out, and arching your back as much as you possibly can.

Wooyoung grows more and more sexually frustrated as the practice session goes on, the bulge in his pants becoming harder and harder to hide from his fellow members, and it's all your fault.

It's so fucking hard for him to see your plump ass and not just squeeze it, run his face through it, fuck it, dear god anything. He wants to grope it so bad but that would make the friendship a little awkward, just a little bit.

But FUCK, seeing that wonderful bubble butt jiggle in front of him during every practice and not being able to do anything with it is complete torture, and he knows damn well that you're doing this shit intentionally, you fucking bitch.

Once practice FINALLY ends, you walk over to Hongjoong, who gives you a light spank on the ass.

"Good job today Y/n, though your dancing was a little too..." He pauses, trying to find the right way to put it. "Too sexy."

"Thank you!" You expressed graciously, not exactly taking his backhanded advice like he wanted.

"Don't you think it's a bit... much." He said kindly, trying to phrase it in the best way he can. Suddenly, Wooyoung walks over to interrupt the conversation.

"Far too much, it's really difficult to dance with his ass in my face." He confessed angrily to Hongjoong, raising his voice a little due to the sexual frustration you're giving him.

Then, Mingi walks over and gives you a light spank on the ass, making it slightly jiggle.

"Good job today." He told you with a gentle smile, but that light spank was Wooyoung's thirteenth reason, so he's about to do something about your slutty attitude.

Without another word, Wooyoung grips your arm and takes you away from everyone else, dragging you to who knows where, gripping tightly enough to leave a bruise. He walks quickly as you stumble behind him, trying to hold back the massive smirk your face desperately wants to make. He soon reaches his intended destination, the recording studio, where no one can hear how loud you scream. In a sex way not a murder way.

He quickly sits down and throws you on to his lap, taking your shorts and underwear off and throwing them to the other side of the room, you won't need them for a while. He does all of this within a blink of an eye, both disorienting and turning you on.

"You're fucking leaking, I bet you just loved showing me this perfect ass! Flaunting it in my face, fucking tease!" He nearly yelled at you, gripping your cheeks tightly, almost hard enough to bruise, finally being able to get his hands on the one thing he's wanted for months now. His tight grip makes you both whimper in pain but also shriek in ecstasy, the duality of men. His grip on your plump cheeks only tightens, making your shrieks only louder.

"No one's going to help you, fucking slut! I have you all to myself." He started loudly. Wooyoung finally spanks your bubble butt, watching as the plump flesh jiggles from his hard slap. "Fucking finally, that's so fucking hot."

But one slap isn't near enough for him, not after all you've put him through, so he goes to mother fucking town. He slaps your ass HARD, over and over again until both of your poor cheeks are a bright shade of red. He spanks one, then the other, waiting to watch them jiggle and once that stops, he does it all over again.

"Sorry okay! That really hurts!" You whined, but secretly you adored how mad you've made him with your constant teasing, loving the way his hand felt as it smacked your now hot burning flesh.

"You like this don't you? You like how I'm punishing you for weeks of being a total slut!" He yelled angrily, delivering a particularly harsh slap, making you screech in pain and pleasure.

You respond to him with a simple yet effective cheeky shrug, this REALLY pisses Wooyoung off, which you can tell from how he gives your cheek the harshest slap yet, causing the loudest pitch you've reached in your entire life; Hongjoong would be proud of such a note. At this point, neither of you can tell what's louder, his spanks or your moans.

Wooyoung then goes back to continuously spanking you, slapping your cheeks over and over at an excruciating pace, projecting weeks of sexual frustration into your poor ass, making it terribly sore. It hurts like a fucking bitch, but you kind of love it. Your shrieks of pain turn into pitchy moans of pleasure at the sensation of his hand slapping your ass with such force and ferocity.

Once Wooyoung has let out all his sexual frustrations on your perfect ass, he gently rubs the tender and sensitive flesh, gently kissing your cheeks, a complete contrast to his previous aggressive behavior.

"Now you know what will happen if you pull that shit again." He warned, giving you ass one more hard slap, making you shriek in the recording room.

"Good to know, now I know what to do if I ever want to get spanked or..." You let on, giving him a wink, which earns you a final harsh slap on your ass.

THE END

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

How I would re-write Stella Goetia, Backstory + Season 1

Probably my most popular posts on this blog are about Stella from Helluva Boss. I like to talk about her because I think she had the potential to be a really nuanced character, and I really would’ve loved to see her and Stolas have a more complicated relationship.

So I’d like to talk about the direction I would’ve taken her characterization and story in.

I do need to stress that this is NOT a writing “fix-it” post. Canon Stella may be an evil bitch, but she’s MY evil bitch and I LOVE HER. I’ve already talked quite at length about how her character and conflict with Stolas being purely black and white is not a bad story decision, but to me is less interesting than having a grey or nuanced conflict.

I just want to go over a rough outline of what I would’ve done with her as a character. Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s better or is “fixing” the canon story. I also am not trying to make Stella inherently more sympathetic/likable/or “woobify” her—this is just a ROUGH outline of what I’d do to flesh Stella out as a person, and ideas I’ve had for her character that would make her (and her relationships with Stolas and Via) more appealing to me personally.

I just really wish Stella had gotten more depth, and wanted to talk about it.

(LONG) Rewrite Summary below!!!

While I think there’s also an interesting re-write where Stella and Stolas are not in an arranged marriage, and may explore this idea as well, this time around I am going to be sticking with the canon background that their marriage was arranged.

Instead of having Stella be an evil heartless spoiled child who strangles puppies, I would give her a very strict upbringing where from birth she was groomed to be the “perfect noblewoman and wife”—I would base her upbringing and the expectations placed on her on what was expected of Regency noblewomen.

Basically, Stella would be raised to be able to run the house/estate when Stolas was away, be accomplished in the “domestic arts” (hosting events such as parties and balls, being able to do embroidery and other hobbies “befitting” of her class, and being involved in charitable efforts). She would be taught to be quiet, graceful, courteous, and to always anticipate the needs of her husband.

Stella’s “true” personality as a young child would be boisterous, loud, and precocious. Stella loved playing outside, singing loudly, and dancing.

She would have gotten in trouble with her parents often due to this (“Dancing for fun is what the poor do, Darling. You should only dance to find a suitable husband”) and would be punished by her Father by his ordering the rest of the family and their staff to ignore Stella completely and act like she didn’t exist. This would usually result in Stella acting out even more to try and MAKE everyone pay attention to her, until she’d get too tired to continue and start acting “proper” (I.e. quiet, not speaking too loud or speaking out of turn, being obedient, etc.)

Her relationship with Andrealphus would have been strained, as he would have been the “golden child” while Stella would be the scapegoat. I’d also like to give Stella magic fire powers. Because honestly why does Andre get Ice Magic and Stolas get space magic and Stella is the same type of demon as them apparently and gets nothing??? Boring.

Maybe this is basic, but honestly I love characters with fire powers who have to learn to control them. As child, Stella would have difficulty controlling her fire abilities, and would be not be taught how to use or maintain her powers, but would be taught to suppress them.

As an aside—again, I’m not giving Stella a traumatic childhood to make her more likable and more pitiable. I have two reasons I’m giving her this backstory—1) I believe that even people with great parents still end up with some childhood trauma, because being alive and growing up *is* traumatic. And 2) I think that there’s a lot of pretty good evidence that ROYAL upbringings, and the expectations and restrictions that come with them, are especially traumatic in a very particular and very intense way.

Doesn’t mean that they’re not extremely privileged, but that privilege also doesn’t take away that trauma.

I think it’s very realistic for both Stella AND Stolas, as children of royalty and nobility, to have a lot of childhood trauma surrounding their upbringings, and that’s something I really want to explore in my rewrite—how they cope with their traumas and how it impacts their relationship and their ability to raise their daughter and navigate conflict.

By an older teen to young adult, she would have learned how to behave as a “perfect noblewoman”. This is when she would meet Stolas for the first time (with a a Chaperone of course).

There would be a little bit of time shortly before and after their marriage where they would have their “honeymoon” period—both Stella and Stolas were very infatuated with each other and mistook that infatuation for “true love”.

This time where they were extremely infatuated with each other would last about a year, after which they would slowly begin to realize that the idealized images they had of one another was false. They would start to argue more, have a harder time compromising etc. until they finally realized they fell out of love, and maybe were never in love in the first place.

Even though the two of them would have come to this realization, it would be separately, and due to their upbringings (where you don’t really talk about your feelings and push them down) they would NOT talk to each other about it.

This would be the first big crack in their relationship, and they would both have a lot of guilt over it.

I like the idea of the two of them really, really want to stay in love with each other, but after they get to TRULY know each other they just…never fully “click”. They realize they don’t have the same interests, they can’t really find anything to talk about, and they just. They don’t stay in love.

Stella would be very in denial about her true feelings after this turning point, and would still try to convince herself that she really loves Stolas. She would have a lot of deeply buried guilt over not loving him, and see it as a failure of her “duties” as his wife.

After this, they would find a way to keep their relationship would be cordial and respectful, but it would always tinged by an unspoken awkwardness. It would be almost business-like in nature, and they would start spending more and more time apart.

To cope with this lackluster relationship that they were both now stuck in, Stolas would throw himself fully into his duties (which I would want to show a little more of…seriously what does…what does he do??? What does he use the grimoire for????) and Stella would do the same—throwing herself into her duties as the lady of the house and a Goetia Princess.

Stella would host parties and balls, she’d make sure manor was always clean and orderly, she’d become a patron of the arts.

The basis of their relationship would become one of them sticking to the roles that were thrust upon them since birth.

Things WOULD change for the better though after Octavia’s birth.

Because for a while, Stolas and Stella would have something, someone, that brought them together, that they both loved and cared for dearly.

Something that Stella and Stolas would have spoken about before having Octavia is that they did NOT, under any circumstance, want to raise Via like they were raised.

As I already went over, both Stella and Stolas would have dealt with abuse and neglect growing up—Stolas’ abuse stems from his parents being LARGELY absent in his life and him being very neglected as a child, while Stella’s stems from her parents being extremely controlling and giving her very little, if any, freedom.

They would firmly agree on letting Via be her own person, on making time for her, on not putting too many expectations on her.

And, in this rewrite, I would not have them be abusive or neglectful parents. But I would have them be very flawed parents, whose own traumatic upbringings negatively affect their ability to raise Via.

I would want to explore Stella and Stolas fighting to break the cycle of abuse they went through, but still struggling because they don’t have a good frame of reference for what being a good parent looks like.

Stolas doesn’t realize that he’s not always giving Octavia all the time with him she needs, because in his eyes he’s spending tons of time with her—it doesn’t occur to him that he’s actually being neglectful towards her, because to him, spending any long amount of time with her is more than he ever got from his father. He’ll spend time with her, and talk to her, but not really LISTEN to what she’s saying she needs, and doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like the things she used to, or is mad at him for not taking more time for her.

Stella doesn’t realize she’s still being controlling or pushing her expectations onto Octavia by making passive aggressive comments suggesting she wear more “appropriate” or “feminine” clothing, or take up a “nicer” hobby like needlepoint and drop taxidermy. She gives Via the freedom to choose what she wants to do, but doesn’t fully SUPPORT those choices, and doesn’t understand why that’s so important, since in the end Octavia is still enjoying freedoms that Stella only dreamed of as a child.

Still, they manage to be a fairly functional and loving family towards Octavia. And Stolas and Stella maintain their cordial and business like relationship for Octavia’s sake, and to keep up appearances.

During Octavia’s teen years, when she’s 14-17, is when more cracks begin to show—Stella and Stolas have been keeping their relationship together, but it’s stagnating more and more. Stolas throws himself even more into his duties with the stars (or whatever) and Stella begins to become gradually more and more concerned and anxious about making sure her family maintains a “perfect” reputation among the other royals of hell.

Stella begins to throw more balls and parties for Hell’s charities (if this version of hell has banks, and police and prisons, they can have charitable organizations, okay.) As her and Stolas’s anniversary starts to get closer, she begins planning a HUGE ball for Hell’s nobility to celebrate. It’s hugely important to her.

While she’s doing all of this, Stolas is beginning to have an early-to-mid-life crisis. His work and duties that used to be engaging and fun are feeling more and more like a chore, his relationship with Stella has stagnated and is purely for show, he’s getting more and more anxious about Octavia approaching adulthood, and his whole life is beginning to feel more and more claustrophobic.

So. Stolas decides to do something wild, spontaneous, and very selfish, before he loses it. On a night where Stella is attending an Opera, and Via is spending the night with friends from school*, Stolas dresses in clothes he assumes “the common folk” would wear, and goes to shady bar in IMP city, with the goal of meeting someone to hook up with.

This is where Stolas meets Blitzø. (Sorry, I’m. I’m not doing the whole “paid childhood friends for one day” background.)

They have what both assume will be a one night stand at Blitzø’s place. It goes. MUCH better than either of them would have expected sex-wise. The two start meeting up more and more when they’re able to. Stolas begins to open up more to Blitzø, but it stays VERY sexual—eventually Stolas comes clean about who he is and they start to hook up at Stolas’ place whenever Stella is out. Stolas is very much infatuated with Blitzø (and the sex they have). Blitzø thinks they’re having non-complicated fun.

During AAALLL of this is when Blitzø learns about the Grimoire, and asks if he can “borrow” it for I.M.P. Stolas is impressed with Blitzø’s confidence and drive, and agrees to let Blitzø use it anytime, with the one exception being the night of the full moon. There is no full moon “deal” beyond the agreement that Blitzø cannot accept clients on the full moon because Stolas needs the book back that night.

During all of this is ALSO when Stella begins to notice Stolas acting differently, he’s slightly more energetic, he’s spending less and less time in his study and the manor in general, he doesn’t look her in the eyes when they do have time to chat briefly. It’s odd, and she’s suspicious of SOMETHING going on but she’s not sure what.

Stolas DOES feel guilty about cheating on Stella, but justifies it by telling himself that they’re not in a “true” marriage, and it’s “just sex”, so he’s not really cheating on Stella.

The night of Stella and Stolas’s anniversary ball arrives. To Stella, everything goes as expected, and it’s a huge success.

During the ball, though, we get the same scene we get in the Circus—Blitzø gets caught trying to sneak into Stolas’ room. Instead of the guards bringing him into the party, they call Stolas outside privately to deal with it (because why would the disrupt the party by dragging a party-crasher through the middle of a fancy ball?? I didn’t really understand why they did that in the og episode)

Stolas dismisses the guards, and we learn that Blitzø has been sneaking in (with Stolas’ permission+ knowledge) to get the grimoire after the full moon when he and Stolas don’t have time to meet up in person. Like tonight.

Instead of just handing off the grimoire like usual, Stolas and Blitzø end up hooking up (mutually and wholly consensually). Stolas does not return to the party.

Stella is really concerned about how Stolas’ absence looks, especially at a ball she planned with so many high profile demon lords present, but she’s able to wave it off as Stolas feeling a little tired and retiring early, due to it being the day after his full moon duties and all.

Instead of returning to their room, that night, Stella sleeps in one of the many guest rooms. She doesn’t know where Stolas is, but she’s mad at him for leaving early without saying anything on such an important night, and is hoping not coming to their bed will send a message—she’s tired anyway and doesn’t want to get in a big fight before bed that will tire her out more.

The next morning she has tea in the garden with some close friends. And this is where we get the infamous “Sorry, I fucked your husband!” scene.

After this, well. Stella kinda loses her shit. She had been pushing down all of her negative feelings and thoughts and frustrations surrounding her life and relationship for YEARS, because in her mind, as long as she was able to maintain the facade of having a “perfect” life, it would be worth it.

And now in a moment she’s lost the thing that, after her daughter, mattered to her the most.

She essentially explodes in fury in a way Stolas has never seen before—they get in a huge argument—Stella’s fire powers come out and burn down the manor’s garden, things just really get out of hand.

So. What would follow would be most of what we see of Stella in season 1 of HB—now that that floodgate has been opened, she finds she’s struggling to control her feelings, she’s mad and sad ALL THE TIME, and she’s deeply deeply hurt in a way she didn’t know she could be.

She can’t show her face in society, she doesn’t know WHAT to say to Octavia, she can’t believe Stolas could be SO SELFISH after EVERYTHING she had done to make sure their family was in high standing—and she can’t push down her feelings anymore. She’s never been so furious in her entire life.

And so she contacts a hitman, Striker.

I really like the old fan theory that Stella hired Striker in a moment of irrationality and anger because of how hurt she was—obviously her hurt does not justify trying to have her husband MURDERED, but I like the idea that she called the hit because she was deeply hurt and unable to cope with those feelings—not because she just hates him to the core of his being and has for their entire marriage. Her anger would be a coping mechanism, if she’s so busy feeling furious she doesn’t have to actually sit with her feelings of betrayal and sadness and hurt.

From here, the rest of season one would play out like in canon, we don’t see Stella in person again, just the apparition of her in Ozzie’s.

I’m going to stop here because this post is already way too long, it it’ll help me to think more if I split it up.

If you read this far please tell me what you think! I think I’d like overall for Stella and Stolas’ relationship to mirror Blitzø and Verosika’s, or maybe become a foil to it. From here we could honestly go either way—either Stella becomes a true villain, or she becomes an antagonist turned hesitant ally like Fizz, Ozzie, and Verosika.

I can see both being interesting, so maybe I’ll do a rewrite for both. We’ll see I guess.

*it weirds me the FUCK out that we don’t know anything about what Hell’s kids do, like I assume schools exist but ???anyway in this rewrite Stella and Stolas send Octavia to a fancy private school—cause the thought of her having NO friends or social circle makes me so sad)

[covenofagatha]

hey soooooo if your requests are still open... what do you think about a pt. 3 with Father Agatha where she fucks reader on the altar with her strap (the church is empty)... like... and Agatha has reader recite the Rosary, and for every mystery completed reader gets an orgasm... and maybe Agatha has like a breeding kink sort of and says she wants to make reader the next virgin mary...

obviously if you want and feel comfortable with all this, i really truly love all your stories!!

Hooooooly shit this was insane i immediately had to write this

also the rosary is so long 😩

Forgive me, Father (part 3)

What the request said lol

Word count: 3200

Warnings: light bondage, religious sex, altar sex, fingering, oral, strap on, cum lube, breeding kink, spanking, dubcon, priest agatha is so corrupt, naive reader, think this is it

The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting. 

“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing. 

You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit. 

Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. 

Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.” 

You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.

“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?” 

“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.

She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?” 

“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make. 

“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.” 

Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?” 

“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Me? Carry God’s child? But–” 

She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.” 

You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased. 

She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her. 

“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.

“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.” 

She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded. 

“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees. 

This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat. 

The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony. 

“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp. 

“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you. 

“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?” 

You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big, the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it. 

Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out. 

Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip. 

“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like. 

She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum.” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.” 

For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are. 

“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.” 

She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound. 

“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy. 

She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross. 

“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave. 

You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips. 

The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing. 

You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it. 

She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.

This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp. 

“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold. 

You nod. “Yes,” you whisper. 

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.” 

Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.” 

She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself. 

The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God. 

Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…”

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank. 

“Hail Mary…” 

Spank.

You still have three more to go and you’re a mess. 

The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again. 

“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt. 

Spank. 

On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore. 

Spank. 

When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly. 

“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms. 

“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.” 

She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider. 

When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are. 

You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans. 

“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her. 

You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles. 

It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue. 

You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder. 

And Father Agatha, of course, has won. 

She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow. 

She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer. 

When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak. 

You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it. 

Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance. 

“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice. 

“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. 

A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever. 

She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly. 

You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you. 

Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time. 

Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly. 

You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again. 

She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face. 

“How was that?” She asks, smirking. 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush. 

And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm. 

“Are you ready for me to fill you up?” 

Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you. 

“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier. 

“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn. 

The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip. 

You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you. 

When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy. 

Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words. 

“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.” 

You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet. 

At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha. 

“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words. 

“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly. 

Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either. 

“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.” 

You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind. 

When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you. 

“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs. 

Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.” 

[dyns33]

New life

!! SPOILERS - Careful, Venom The last dance spoilers here !!!

I was wondering while watching the movie if that would give me new ideas for Eddie and his tiny alien, and yes, yes it did.

When Y/N had met Eddie Brock in a New York cafe, he had hesitated at first before accepting her into his life.

It had taken him several weeks to open up, talk to her, understand that she liked him, and then admit that he liked her too.

Once he had offered her his trust, he had explained why to her. Really explained everything, adding that he understood that she thought he was crazy and that she would decide to run away from him when he was done.

First, he had completely ruined his career and his relationship with his fiancée Anne by being selfish and stupid. For a long time, Eddie had refused to see the truth, making excuses, but he had to admit that it was all his fault.

Then, there was Venom. The alien symbiote who had brought as much joy as problems into his existence, before sacrificing himself to save him, along with the rest of humanity.

"He was my best friend." he said, trying to hold back his sobs. "He could be annoying, but I wasn't a gift either. We were supposed to see the Statue of Liberty together, but… Well. I miss him a lot. It's weird not hearing from him all the time. It's hard without him."

Not only did these revelations not scare Y/N away, but she found herself even more in love and touched by this wounded man who was doing his best to move forward despite everything he had been through.

Like a wild animal, it took a little more time to reassure Eddie that she really loved him and especially that he wasn't going to lose her.

For their first date, he offered her an ice cream, not far from Lady Liberty. Y/N took his hand, to support him, but especially so that he knew that she wasn't going to try to make him forget Venom.

Just because they were together didn't erase everything he'd experienced with his alien parasite friend, who was a lot like a boyfriend when he told her all their stories.

"Nah, just a friend."

"You said you loved each other."

"Like buddies."

"You had arguments as a couple. He was jealous and protective. You gave him chocolate on Valentine's Day."

"Once ! And to keep him quiet. And the rest was just a symbiote thing."

"You admitted to me that he 'took care of' your erections when he was in full form. Why did you have erections anyway ?"

"… Shit, I was in a relationship with Vee."

He cried again, in shock. Not because he was ashamed, but because he had not understood the nature of their relationship, much more intense than simple friendship. He did not blame Y/N for opening his eyes, as she did not hold back from doing so, thinking that it was necessary for him to grieve properly.

Several months passed, life continuing in an excellent direction.

After using his contacts and abilities, Eddie Brock had become a formidable reporter in New York, even if he was a little more careful about his methods and the people he wrote about.

In his private life, he made Y/N very happy, learning from his past mistakes to become the best boyfriend possible. No secrets, no lies, no manipulation to get information for an article. They were not in symbiosis, but almost.

Much more relaxed and open than before, he kept his calm in most situations. Even when they had some cockroach problems. Or rather one cockroach problem.

"It's still there." Eddie noted while drinking his coffee, observing the insect that was partially hidden behind the couch.

"Do you want me to call someone ?"

"Nah. He doesn't hurt anyone, that little guy. We don't leave food lying around, we throw out our trash. No point in staying here or calling his friends. He must be lost, he'll leave eventually."

"What if he thinks you're so cool that he tells the others to come over just so he can watch you sleep ?"

"Eww, babe, gross. Listen, if he's still here in a week, I'll take care of him. But it must be a neighbor with questionable hygiene who has a colony, he'll go back there."

The cockroach stayed, but like Eddie had said, he wasn't that much of a nuisance. Most of the time he was nowhere to be found, otherwise he stayed in his corner.

Strangely, he showed up when the couple was together, as if he was waiting to watch them. His presence was still abnormal, in addition to being possibly dirty, so Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands, trying to get him out.

"I know you're the most impossible thing to kill on this Earth." she said to the cockroach that was hiding under the closet. "And besides, Eddie decided he didn't want you to die, so let me put you in this jar, I'll take you to a landfill, and you'll be the happiest little cockroach, okay ?"

Of course, the insect wasn't ready to cooperate, putting itself as far away as possible, in an impossible place to reach. It was ridiculous, but Y/N had the impression that it understood perfectly what she was saying.

Eddie found her on the living room floor, her hand under the closet, trying for several hours to catch it.

"Need some help ?"

"Thanks, Eddie, it's between him and me now."

"Poor little thing that has no chance against someone stronger than them. Accept that he's winning."

"You're hilarious. He's staring at me without moving, he's making fun of me, it's personal. I'm pretty sure I saw him smile."

"You been upside down for a long time, babe ?" he asked as he sat down next to her, rubbing her back. "Come on, I'll take care of it, I'll get rid of the horrible monster."

"No, Eddie… Please…"

It was probably the first time someone had dropped their shoe to cry and try to hug a cockroach, but Eddie being an extraordinary man, Y/N was only half surprised. Same thing when the insect started talking again, small tentacles coming out of it to wrap around her boyfriend. She had thought she had imagined that voice.

Losing its dark color, the creature was thrown out the window, while the tentacles remained around Eddie, before disappearing, as if absorbed by his heart. Then an alien head appeared near his shoulder.

"Wait… Is that Venom ?" she asked, a bit lost. "You told me he was dead."

"I thought so too ! Last time, he was just exhausted but still inside me, but this time… Vee, I thought I'd never see you again !"

"Eddie… I told you it wasn't goodbye. It took me a lot longer than I thought to find you. Cockroaches are tough, but their legs are tiny, not as fast as a horse. And then… I saw you with your new love. So I didn't know if you'd want me to come back."

"But of course I…"

Remembering the discussion they had had, Eddie turned to Y/N, as if he was scared. Now that he knew the feelings he had for his symbiote, without ever realizing it when they were together, it was embarrassing to say that he wanted him back while he was in a relationship with her.

Maybe Venom had insisted for a long time that he get back with Anne, because it seemed to be the key to his host's happiness, but then there had been no one between them.

The alien didn't know Y/N. He had spent several days observing her, seeing if she was good enough for his Eddie, and after accepting that she was a suitable partner, he had wondered if he wasn't going to ruin everything by showing himself.

After all, Eddie had often said that it was his fault that he had lost everything. Venom didn't agree, he knew that most of his host's problems were the result of his bad decisions, but maybe he had turned his life upside down a bit, forcing him to give up certain things for him, like Vee had given up certain things to please him.

A relationship was certainly one of those things. With Anne, it might have been possible since she knew about the symbiote, but someone new ? That would have been hard to sell.

"You told her about me ?" Venom realized as he stared at Y/N. "Weren't you ashamed ? Didn't you repress your feelings because of the stupid social conventions that say men should be strong and insensitive ?"

"Of course I told her about you. I made a lot of resolutions after… After. I wanted to honor your memory, while being honest with Y/N."

"That's good, Eddie ! You're a little less of a loser !"

"Thanks, buddy, so nice."

Poor Eddie grimaced, probably accepting that this insult was a compliment, but Y/N quickly understood that there was a parallel, silent discussion going on between them in his head. She could easily guess that Venom was wondering if he would be able to stay, if she would leave because of him, or worse if his host would have to make a choice, which would make him unhappy.

Ensuring the happiness of his human was so important to him that the symbiote would have been ready to stay hidden under their couch, to be close to him without risking disturbing him. Who could hate such an adorable alien ?

"If we don't adopt chickens, and we buy lots of chocolate, I guess cohabitation won't be impossible." she smiled shyly, before they found the courage to ask her opinion.

"Babe ? Really ?"

"You really chose well, Eddie ! She might even be too good for you !"

"Thanks Vee, really super nice again. But babe, are you sure ? He can be… We are… You can say it if you find it weird."

"It's weird, but it doesn't bother me."

Almost every day, Eddie kissed her tenderly, in the morning, before leaving for work, when entering their apartment, when they went to sleep, but he had never been so passionate when he kissed her at that moment, repeating that he loved her.

As if he had been there forever, the alien had surrounded them with his tentacles in an attempt of a hug, commenting on the scene that he considered the most beautiful and romantic thing he had ever seen, even better than in his favorite telenovela with Maximiliano. He immediately ordered them to watch it when Y/N told him that she didn't know who he was talking about.

Not as invested, Eddie fell asleep on the sofa, keeping her in his arms and snoring lightly in her neck, while Venom explained the previous episodes to her with great excitement, as if everything was normal.

[literaryavenger]

Back To You - Steve Rogers

Summary: You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Maybe language. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This was supposed to be a Reader x Steve story, but I was too tempted to make reader end up with Bucky. So I decided to make two separate endings, the original with Steve and an alternate one where she ends with Bucky, if only for @ordelixx who gave me the idea. I'd also like to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for the idea and for helping me write about other characters.

Masterlist

You know what’s about to happen. You know he’s gonna leave, you know he’s not gonna come back, you know you’ll never see him again.

You know he’s gonna try to have the life he always wanted with the girl he always wanted. The girl he loves.

And that girl is not you.

You watch him as he says goodbye to Bucky, you know he knows as well as you do that his best friend isn’t coming back.

Then Steve turns to you and you try your best to smile.

“I wish I had met you earlier.” he whispers as he kisses you on the forehead and you know in that instant this is really goodbye.

You smile and nod, not being able to get a word out, willing yourself not to cry.

He walks onto the platform and soon he’s gone.

You’ve been by Steve’s side ever since he came back from the ice. You were the agent assigned to watch over him, you were there when he woke up and had to run after him when he freaked out.

You were there during the battle of New York, during the fall of Shield in DC, during the whole Ultron incident and in Lagos.

You were on his side for the Accords, and you were by his side in London as he said goodbye to the love of his life. 

You were there with him and Sam in Romania to try and help Bucky, you were arrested with them and then helped fight the Winter Soldier, yet again.

You were on his side to fight against Tony and the rest of the Avengers, you got arrested again and were broken out of the Raft by him.

You spent two years on the run with him, and fought next to him in Wakanda.

You watched his dumb ass try to fight Thanos barehanded and you were quickly knocked down when you tried to help him.

You snapped like half the universe and apparently lost 5 years of your life. You came back, thanks to him, and fought against Thanos one last time.

And now you're watching him leave.

You were there to help him get accustomed to the 21st century, you were there for him on sleepless nights.

You were there for him as he cried for his lost friends, his lost love and his lost life. He always came to you when he needed to talk, to be held, help sleeping and even advise.

And you were always there for him, falling in love little by little against your better judgement.

You’re brought back to the present as you hear Sam freaking out on Bruce because Steve missed his mark and didn’t come back.

You look at Bucky and you both know what this means. He gives you a sympathetic smile and you try to give a smile back but fail.

You look away from him and take a deep breath. You turn around and start walking away.

You’re done here, and about to break down. Something you never allowed yourself to do in front of anybody, with the exception of Steve.

And now he’s gone.

You get in your car and quickly drive away, not looking back. You drive straight to Steve’s apartment.

You’ve been staying there since you came back while the compound gets fixed since your old apartment has been someone else’s home for the past 5 years.

Five years. That’s how long you’ve been gone. That’s how much of life you’ve missed. 

And now you’re left to pick up the pieces of your life by yourself, along with your broken heart.

If you were completely honest with yourself you always knew it wouldn’t have worked with Steve. You’ve never thought you were remotely good enough for him, and that was before even comparing yourself to Peggy. 

There was no doubt in your mind that she was Steve’s soulmate, and you’ve talked about her enough times to know he thought the same.

- Original Ending   -

You’re taken out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You frown and cautiously walk to it, picking up your gun from its hiding place under the coffee table.

It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry, right?

You take a peek from the peephole and frown even more when you see that whoever’s on the other side of the door covered it.

You ready your gun and take a deep breath, your hand on the doorknob. You open and lose no time pointing right in front of you, but you almost drop your gun along with your jaw when you see who’s standing there.

You almost feel like you’re dreaming so you pinch yourself, which makes him laugh and when that sound hits your ears you know you’re not hallucinating either.

Steve Rogers, the same face you’ve always known, standing right in front of you.

For a moment neither of you say anything, then he decides that maybe you’re too in shock to talk so he breaks the silence. 

“I’ve never knocked on my own door before. That was a wild ride.” He laughs again and at the sound you can’t help but let the tears you’ve been trying so hard to keep in fall.

The moment he sees the first tear Steve’s face falls and then he’s wrapping his arms around you, your face buried in his chest.

You slowly bring your own arms to wrap around his waist, almost worried that if you make any sudden moves he’s gonna disappear.

Once your arms are around him too, you realize it’s all real and he’s actually there and you let yourself go, crying your eyes out and clinging to him.

Suddenly, he picks you up and you hang onto him for dear life as he carries you back inside the apartment, closing the front door and then goes to sit on the couch with a still crying you on his lap.

He does nothing more than run his hand through your hair, rubbing your back with the other and letting you get it all out.

After a few minutes you start to calm down and finally get your voice back. “I thought you were gone forever.”

Of all the reactions he could’ve had, he surprises you with the only one you don't expect by chuckling. “You never were very patient, were you, sweetheart?”

You look up at him and frown, sniffling and softly say “What do you mean? You were gone… Bruce said you missed your mark.”

He nods and wipes away the rest of your tears while he talks. “I did. I put the wrong time by mistake. You know me and technology.”

“But… You and Peggy…” your frown is still in place, just not being able to believe that he came back.

Did you read the signs wrong? Was he always planning on coming back? Almost like he can read your mind, he starts giving you some answers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Once I was done returning the stones, I knew I had a chance to go back to the 40s and I was gonna take it. I thought I wanted to take it. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” You ask in a whisper.

“Because of you, doll.” He says without missing a beat with a sweet smile. “All I could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, your strength. The way you tried so hard to be happy for me even though you thought I was leaving forever. The mere thought of not seeing you, not talking to you, not having you by my side, it killed me.”

You’re almost crying again, but you make yourself talk, needing clarification, your voice still quiet. “What are you saying, Steve?”

“I’m saying, there is no me and Peggy. It’s me and you. It’s been me and you from day one.” He takes your face in his hands and leans in more, your faces only inches apart. “And I’m an idiot for taking this long to figure it out. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can you forgive me?”

You swallow down the tears threatening to fall again and waste no time before nodding, maybe a little too eagerly but you don’t really care, and he doesn’t seem to mind either judging by his smile.

“I forgive you, Steve.” The words are barely out of your mouth before Steve is leaning in the rest of the way and kissing you.

You kiss back without thinking twice about it and after a few seconds you pull back, big goofy smiles on both your faces.

You spent the rest of the afternoon like this, cuddling and talking and just enjoying each other’s company.

You didn’t do much, it wasn’t much different from the endless number of days you spent together, but you couldn’t help but feel like this was the best day of your life.

And even if you didn’t know it, Steve was thinking the exact same thing.

After all, what is better than spending the day cuddling with the girl he always needed? The girl he loves.

And that girl is you.

- Alternative Ending    - 

You’re taken out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You frown and cautiously walk to it, picking up your gun from its hiding place under the coffee table.

It’s probably nothing but better safe than sorry, right?

You take a peek from the peephole and immediately roll your eyes, lowering your gun while opening the door.

“I guess you weren’t expecting company.” Bucky says, more amused than anything when he sees the gun in your hand.

You make no attempt to try and hide your annoyance as you roll your eyes again. “What are you doing here, Barnes?”

It’s not that you don’t like Bucky, you just don’t know him all that well if not only thanks to the stories Steve shared of him in the 40s.

“I thought I’d make sure you were okay. You ran out of there pretty fast.”

“Yeah, well, he’s gone. It’s a done deal, don’t see why I had to stick around.” You say crossing your arms defensively. 

Bucky doesn’t seem to mind your response as he simply leans on the doorway and keeps talking. “He was disappointed not to see you.”

You frown, beyond confused by a single and simple sentence. Bucky smiles and elaborates. “He lived a life. And he’s old now, but still alive.”

“Oh.” is all you can say. Steve old? You can’t even imagine it.

“He gave the shield to Sam.” Bucky continues, just making conversation.

“Really? I would’ve thought he’d give it to you if he had to choose.” Bucky frowns a little and tilts his head, seeming genuinely confused.

“Why would he give it to me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, you were his best friend, you’re a supersoldier. I guess I just assumed.”

“None of that matters, Sam is a good man. He deserves it.” He argues, then quickly adds. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

You grin and nod, then say. “For what it’s worth you’re a good man too, Bucky. Steve thought the world of you, trust me. He never stopped thinking highly of you.”

That was nothing more than a simple reassurance for you, but for Bucky it was so much more than that.

He knew you were talking about his time as the Winter Soldier. You were telling him that, even knowing about all that, Steve never let that influence his opinion of his former best friend. He still knew who Bucky was, deep down.

Bucky never heard words like that coming from anyone that’s not Steve, and you said it so casually, like you really believe it and to you it’s no big deal to just say it.

But for him, it was everything.

You didn’t know it then, but that was the moment Bucky started falling for you.

“Why are you checking up on me, Bucky? Really?” You say after a moment, breaking the silence that fell between you.

“Steve made me promise to take care of you before he left.” He said simply.

Bucky didn’t know it then, but that was the moment your heart broke completely.

You managed to keep yourself from breaking right then and there, but Bucky could see that something was wrong.

He didn’t push it though, making conversation a little more before saying goodbye with the promise that he’d be back the next day.

And that’s what he did.

In fact, he came back everyday, no matter what, to check on you.

It started out as quick visits where he wouldn’t even enter the door, then you started inviting him in for coffee because you felt bad he came to Steve’s apartment everyday, always refusing to let you meet him somewhere else. 

After a while you started inviting him for meals, to watch a movie or just to hang out.

You almost didn’t know how, but at one point you started to really look forward to Bucky’s visits everyday, getting excited every time he knocked on the door.

It was the best part of your day, really.

You knew Bucky felt the same, it was like you both knew what was slowly happening between you and you had a silent understanding not to discuss it.

You also never discussed your feelings for Steve, but you felt like Bucky somehow knew nonetheless. 

But the more time you spent with Bucky the more those feelings seemed to fade.

You still loved Steve, still missed him, you could feel yourself letting go of him with every time you spent time with Bucky, every time he made you laugh, every time your hands would accidentally touch.

You could feel yourself falling in love with Bucky and, this time, it felt right. This time you didn’t even try to stop it. 

And it seemed like Bucky felt the same way.

Time after time he became more bold with his flirting, with physical touch, until eventually he was shamelessly hitting on you and cuddling you every time he could.

And, when you made no attempt whatsoever to stop him, it was the only signal he needed to keep going.

One day, after about a year of his daily visits, he couldn’t hold back anymore and kissed you, overjoyed when you kissed him back. He asked you out right after and you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

It was the best first date of your life, but to be fair you’d been hanging out and basically dating for almost a year, so it felt simple. Effortless and uncomplicated. 

It was everything both of you needed. Your feelings for Steve were almost gone now, which is why you couldn’t even begin to explain what happened yesterday.

You were out with Bucky, hand in hand as you walked around the park, just enjoying the sunshine, when you could swear you saw Steve, not old Steve but your Steve, just standing there, looking at you and Bucky.

It was for a second, you merely glanced in his direction and by the time you turned back he was gone. 

Bucky didn’t notice anything, if not only the way you tensed and stopped in your tracks.

You thought about telling him what you thought you saw, but even you knew how crazy you would’ve sounded. So you said nothing and shrugged it off.

Because it was nothing.

Right? 

[httpsdana]

can you write about reader asking kebab to star in her new music video as her male lead and him being not to confident about it plsss 😔

Spotlight~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who i write for

It started as a casual dinner conversation, the kind where ideas flowed freely, accompanied by laughter and clinking glasses. She was seated across from Kenan at their dining table, his brows furrowing slightly as she animatedly described her latest project—a music video for her upcoming single.

“I want it to feel authentic, like a real love story,” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “The male lead should have that perfect mix of charm and vulnerability. Someone who’s real.”

Kenan nodded along, taking a sip of his drink. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. Who’s the lucky guy?”

She leaned forward, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile. “You.”

He blinked, caught completely off guard. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” she replied, her tone firm yet playful. “Kenan, you’re perfect for this. You already know me better than anyone else, and our chemistry is exactly what I want to capture on screen.”

Kenan leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. “I don’t know, aşkim. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m a footballer, not an actor.”

“You don’t need to act,” she countered, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. “You just have to be yourself. That’s what will make it special.”

Kenan hesitated, his gaze dropping to where their fingers intertwined with his. “What if I mess it up? What if I make you look bad?”

“You could never make me look bad,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “Besides, you’ve seen me in the studio, fumbling through takes and trying to hit the right notes. It’s okay to be unsure. That’s what makes it real.”

He chuckled at the memory of her cursing under her breath after a missed cue or an offbeat lyric. “You always make it work, though.”

“And so will you,” she replied confidently. “Please, Kenan. It would mean so much to me.”

His eyes searched hers, still unsure but visibly softening at the sincerity in her expression. “If it’s that important to you… okay. I’ll do it.”

She let out an excited squeal, jumping out of her chair and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re going to be amazing, I promise.”

Kenan wrapped his arms around her, his nerves momentarily forgotten in the warmth of her embrace. “Just don’t laugh at me if I mess up.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, pulling back to look into his eyes. “But I might fall even more in love with you.”

His cheeks flushed, a rare but endearing sight, and he smiled despite himself. “Well, in that case, I guess I better give it my all.”

The filming began a week later. Kenan showed up to the set early, dressed casually in a white button-up shirt and jeans, looking equal parts nervous and out of place. The crew buzzed around, setting up cameras and adjusting lights, but his eyes found his girl immediately. She walked over, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling up at him. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

The first scene was simple—just the two of them walking through a sunlit park, holding hands and exchanging soft smiles. Despite the simplicity, Kenan stiffened as soon as the cameras started rolling.

“Cut!” the director called out after the first take. “Kenan, relax a little. Don’t overthink it.”

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Easier said than done.”

She stepped closer, touching his arm lightly. “Hey, don’t focus on the cameras. Just on me, okay? It’s just us.”

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly, and the next take went smoother. She led him through the motions, her hand squeezing his reassuringly every now and then.

The next scene, she had to rest her head on his shoulder as they both sat under a tree, laughing softly at nothing in particular. Between takes, she teased him to ease his nerves.

“See? You’re a natural,” she said after a particularly good shot.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “If by natural, you mean awkward, then sure.”

A specifically hard scene came up, it was the emotional climax—set in a softly lit room, where the two of them had to act out a moment of vulnerability, gazing into each other’s eyes as if confessing unspoken feelings. The director explained the setup, and Kenan looked like he wanted to bolt.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered, brushing her hand against his. “Just think of it as... us, but with cameras watching.”

“Comforting,” he muttered dryly, but he didn’t pull away.

When the cameras rolled, something clicked. His nervousness melted as he focused on her, his eyes softening in a way that made her heart skip. The way he reached for her hand, the way his thumb brushed against her knuckles—it felt so natural, so real, that the crew barely had to give any direction.

When the director called, “Cut!” applause erupted on set.

Kenan blinked, looking around in surprise. “Was that... good?”

“Good?” she repeated, laughing as she threw her arms around him. “Kenan, that was perfect!”

He wrapped his arms around her, a sheepish smile on his face. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, pulling back to look at him. “You were incredible. You made this everything I imagined and more.”

The director then approached them both with a clipboard, explaining the next scene. “This is where you kiss. It needs to feel natural and romantic, like you’ve just realized how much you mean to each other.”

Kenan stiffened beside her, his hand instinctively finding hers. “A kiss?” he murmured, leaning closer to her.

She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s just a kiss, Kenan. We’ve done it a million times before.”

“Yeah, but not in front of cameras and a whole crew,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing.

She squeezed his hand gently. “remember it’s only us, okay?”

The set was cleared of unnecessary crew members to make the moment more private, but the presence of the cameras still loomed. The scene was set on a dimly lit balcony, fairy lights twinkling overhead as the two of them stood close, the city skyline glowing in the background.

The director called, “Action!”

She stepped closer to Kenan, her eyes locking with his. She could feel the tension in his body as he inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening slightly. To help him relax, she reached up and rested a hand on his chest, his touch gentle but grounding.

“Just you and me,” she whispered, barely audible but enough for him to hear.

His shoulders eased, and his eyes softened. Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss started hesitant, almost shy, but the familiarity between them guided the moment. Her fingers slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Kenan’s hand rested at her waist, his grip firm but comforting. The world around them seemed to blur—there were no cameras, no crew, just the two of them sharing a moment that felt far too real for a scripted scene. When the kiss ended, his forehead rested against hers, his breathing slightly unsteady.

“Cut!” the director called out, sounding pleased. “That was perfect!”

Kenan pulled back, his ears tinged red as he avoided eye contact with the crew. He turned to his girlfriend, his voice low. “That didn’t feel like acting.”

She laughed softly, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “That’s because it wasn’t.”

Kenan smiled, his confidence growing as he realized how much he had nailed the moment. “Maybe I’m not so bad at this after all. But don’t get used to this—I’m not quitting football anytime soon.”

“Fair enough,” she replied, laughing softly. “But you’ll always be my favorite male lead.”

[three-realms-archive]

(This me rambling, feel free to ignore and lesson 16 spoilers! ^^; hi hello btw!)

I wanna see MC sometimes staying at Purgatory Hall and the Demon Lord's Castle more often as an escape to truly relax and maybe see the brothers try to overcome some of their struggles in their own, even if it's just a bit, if not for them, then for MC who has done so much, maybe even too much, for them, y'know?

Lesson 16 was quite the turning point, but not a lot of things changed. I wanna see before and afters with everyone. I wanna see angst where everyone is trying to be normal (maybe because MC is trying to be normal), but when the slightest thing goes wrong, they all flinch to shield MC or something. The smallest smell of vlood after chopping up food for dinner? Flashback to lesson 16. MC being too cold? Mammon flashes back. Belphie standing over MC (holding blankets or just so happen to be there for some reason)? Levi is holding his breath.

But at the same time, i want to see MC flinch from Lucifer. Before Belphie, Lucifer was going to hurt MC or worse, and he did it the most and has succeeded in hurting MC the most out of the brothers. I want to see MC hold their breath anytime he gets angry but is completely calm with Satan. I wanna see MC's shoulders tense while helping with paperwork alone with him but be completely fine with doing the same with Diavolo. I wanna see Mammon acting as like a bridge between the two.

Everyone is so creative on how they write lesson 16 but i don't see a lot of "after the lesson" ones. I always wondered, if their MC went through that (assuming if they made ir canon in their MC's story), what changed, if at all?

Phantom Pain

First oneshot of Scars, Wounds and Minor Inconveniences: a oneshot series featuring slice-of-life snapshots of the aftermath of Lesson 16. Naturally, features spoilers for OG Obey Me! up until that point. Each oneshot will have an associated headcannons post, which will be linked when it goes up!

(thank you to @kittylilyheart for inspiring what will now be a oneshot series dedicated to everyday life in the aftermath of lesson 16, because there's just so many characters in this series with so many things you can write for each. they gave so many interesting examples in their submitted idea; so I'll be including some and incorporating my own. If you have an idea for something related to Obey Me! or Obey Me! Nightbringer that you'd like me to put to writing, please read the rules pinned to this blog before submitting to the blog's inbox!)

_

It’s like pins and needles, starting at your neck and running down your back. Mammon sees you arch your back oddly as you go to knock on the door to the Demon Lord’s castle; and immediately knows.

“Hey, hey.” He says as he bumps his shoulder into yours, fingers touching your sleeve. Even though he’s seen this a bunch of times, he never really knows what to do. “Ya, uh. Ya got the needles-thing again?”

“Yeah. Ugh, why now?” You groan through gritted teeth, waiting for the feeling to subside. Both you and Mammon were used to this, episodes happening every now and then. Temporary bouts of phantom pain down your back and sides, where arms had hugged you and…

Dwelling wouldn’t help. And besides; they barely inconvenienced you. You sat down and pressed your back against a nearby wall.

“Don’t do that. What are ya doin’?”

“It feels better when I put my back against something hard and flat.” You state matter-of-factly, never breaking eye contact as you slowly slide down. He looks more confused. You grin. "As long as Beel hasn't got his fifth dinner on it, the kitchen table is nice, too."

“Weird humans…” Mammon mutters disapprovingly, but he sits beside you to wait it out. His head flops to one side, cheek resting on your head, as he makes the ever-so-cliché show of pretending to stretch his arm above his head, over yours… and, eventually, around your shoulders. You snort as his fingers fidget, figuring he just doesn’t know where to place them. They first settle on your chest, lingering over where your heart beats. Then, they scurry up to your collarbone and settle on your pulse point. He presses around a little, as if searching. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans back against the wall, too.

“I think it’s going away, now. Mams. Hey, Mams.” You shake his arm a few minutes later. He blushes at your willing contact (as if he hadn’t been holding you close this whole time) and the cutesy nickname, but shuffles back to give you space to stand. Though not before checking your back first, touching the back of his hand to the skin between your shoulder blades, which your outfit exposes. Because you’d been leaning on a metal wall, your skin is cold.

He freezes. Your skin, cold. Your lips, not breathing. The slight red from where his hand had pressed against you has a slightly red flush. Red - red, just like it had been when -

He makes a show of dusting off your shoulders, one hand curling its fingers just enough to press a little more around your neck pulse point.

He hums again, satisfied. Then, the sheer amount of touching you that he’s done today hits him - and he turns his head to the side with a not-so-subtle cough.

“Y-Yeah, okay. Good. Let’s knock, then.” Mammon straightens and flashes you one of his signature grins. You notice it wobbles a little, but you attribute that to the adorably-dramatic cough he was forcing out of his throat just moments earlier. “If we get back late, Lucifer’ll think we’re slackin.”

“We can’t stay longer? Lord Diavolo said in his letter that I can work at the castle for as long as I like.” You pout. Secretly, your heartbeat gets a little faster; you swore you read the letter correctly. You look at Mammon hopefully, avoiding looking at the path behind you; which was starting to look awfully short. “I thought we were getting back after Lucifer goes out tonight.”

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “Ya wanna stay that long? It’s dangerous out. It’s safer with Lucifer around. ” He protests worriedly - but catches himself quickly. “W-Well. Not that I can’t protect ya… But everyone’s at home, too! The more people around, the better the protectin'!”

“Mammon -”

“Mammon is probably right, MC." Suddenly, you hear a voice behind you. "Though, I admit - I hadn't thought about that when I wrote the letter requesting your visit.”

The two of you jump. You and Mammon immediately find each others’ hands, and whip around to face the source of the voice. Mammon is already stepping forward, stretching his arm in front of you protectively... when he sees who it is.

“Lord… Geez, Lord Diavolo. Barbatos.” He nervously chuckles, stepping back. “We were literally just about to knock. Warn a guy next time, why don’t’cha?”

“No worries, Mammon. Sorry for startling you.” Diavolo offers apologetically. He nods in acknowledgement to you. “Hello there, MC. Lucifer may worry too much if he doesn’t see you before leaving the House, so it may be best for him to see you’re safe and sound, first.”

You look up slowly at the Crown Prince of the Devildom. The prince’s demon butler stands just behind his liege, almost blending into the shadows. They look so… tall. So towering. You don’t register the words that come out of your mouth.

“Oh, u-uh. Okay, then. I’ll help with some RAD event planning, then leave. early”

Mammon gives you a look, shuffling closer and bumping his shoulder into yours, again. “Oi, human, are you sure? I thought earlier you said -”

“I’ll do what Lord Diavolo, said. It’s probably for a reason.” You reply nonchalantly as Barbatos steps forward and unlocks the front door. You can see the hallway as it creaks open and it’s dark. It reminds you of a room you had woken up in when you were pulled from your home with no warning. It reminds you of winding stairs that had lead up to an attic, with a shadowy figure waiting behind a locked door. It was the home of two people who, try as you might, you could never, ever say no to.

Was it fear? You didn’t think so, you could talk to them pretty easily. Agree with them, easily.

Was it hatred? Not that either. You knew Mammon appreciates them for their part in saving you, so you guess you do, too.

You think of the phantom pain from earlier, then think that the darkness of the castle hallway looks a lot more inviting than dwelling on painful memories and difficult questions. So you let your feet follow Diavolo and Barbatos into the castle, laughing when Diavolo fondly tussles Mammon’s hair and enthusiastically piping up with ideas when Barbatos lists off the upcoming events to be held by the student council at RAD.

Mammon does hang back a little at first, though; wondering why you disapproved of his idea when he said it - but then agreed so readily when Diavolo did. But Diavolo did help you with the whole Belphie situation. And he was grateful Diavolo had you brought to the Devildom at all. So he follows you and thinks nothing of it.

And you follow Barbatos and Diavolo. Listening to their every word, like it was instinct. Like you didn’t really have a choice. Just like you didn't have when they had saved you.

Just like you had no choice when they had first brought you here.

(first chapter of the blog's very first series! this was pretty interesting and challenging to write as i really didn't want anything sad or angsty; just the same tone as my other slice-of-life stuff but with little pangs of hurt from the habits that the characters pick up after the belphie incident. i'd like to think that mc and the obm cast actually do recover pretty quickly from lesson 16, but not for the reason of forgiving each other easily, which i'll get to in later chapters. in this case, mc gets along well with dia and barb out of trust for them saving them, but also because they've always taken the reigns on their fate anyway.)

[ghostchems]

bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav

your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain

a/n: i am shouting out @angellayercake for screaming about this with me and for also having to deal with this:

this is my first raphael fic! i tried :) 2.1k words. smut! mdni! 18+ please. both tav and raphael make bad decisions! ao3 link.

Your muscles and bones ache as you toss and turn in bed, eyes squeezed shut while you try to force yourself to sleep but to no avail. The bed creaks as you shift, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Sleeping used to be easier before the tadpole, before your abduction and before you somehow became the hero of this story. Your eyes flicker across your companions, watching as they sleep, their chests rising and falling between soft breaths. You knew booking a room at Elfsong would be good for them, allowing them to sleep in actual beds for the first time during your adventure rather than bedrolls on the hard ground. You care for them, more than you’ve cared about anything before, putting their needs above yours. Perhaps that’s why you’ve taken on the role as the heroic leader.

But you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You’re exhausted from trying to go about this the right way when there is a slightly easier way to go about it.

The second those big, brown eyes fell upon you in the Devil’s Den he knew you were exhausted. You still went about the delicate dance of learning what he truly wanted from you and how you refuse to make a deal with a Devil. But deep down, you wanted to and he knew. The way his lips quirked into a slimy smirk as you left, your eyes met his and you gave him a knowing look. He would be expecting you to come back.

You just didn’t think you would be back so soon but you aren’t able to get your thoughts to quiet down. You need your plans in place to quiet your mind enough to rest. Gravel crunches beneath your boots as you make your way back to Sharess’ Caress, a cautious eye scanning the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You miss the days when you could walk these streets without worry, when signs of danger were few and far between. 

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end once you reach the door to Devil’s Den, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since Raphael showed his smarmy face and performed his rehearsed speech to your group, you couldn’t help but be curious about him. A devil, a cambion to be more specific, coming to you with a deal was never even a possibility that crossed your mind before, let alone having multiple run-ins with him since you escaped the wreckage. There is always something far too tempting about him and his schemes.

I’ve grown fond of you, in my own way. 

You think about the way those words rolled off of his tongue more than you would like to admit. An infernal creature fond of you. You can’t help but feel special. A quick thought blips to the front of your mind, a sudden worry that it’s too late at night for you to be disturbing him. You suck in a deep breath and shrug the thought away — you are his favorite client, after all. The door to his room clicks and you push open the door, revealing Raphael still perched at his desk almost as if he hasn’t moved since you left him earlier.

“Back so soon, mouse?” The devil tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You put on quite the performance earlier, I figured you would take a few nights to stew over it before you came crawling back.” His voice drops deliciously low as he curls his fingers underneath his chin, his eyes scanning your body. You feel warmth start to blossom in the pit of your stomach but you choose to brush the feeling off. It’s just like him to continue this little game of his when he knows full well what you are here for. You decide to play along. 

“Where is the hammer, Raphael?” You ask, annoyance dripping from your town while you walk completely past him and into the bedroom. He trails after you curiously, watching as you start to go through the drawers of his bedside table. You know it’s not here but you must play along with him, wanting nothing more than to hold his attention. Raphael lingers behind you, peering over your shoulder with a bemused expression.

“It’s not here, my pet. You’ll receive it at the right time — if you accept my deal.” You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and your cheeks flush, your grip on the drawer tightening.

“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” You don’t dare turn around, almost afraid how close he is to you. One of his hands grabs you by the waist and you can’t help but give a startled mewl. He snaps his fingers and a contract appears in front of you, the infernal script too complicated for you to understand, and a quill floats beside it.

“You wound me.” Raphael purrs into your ear, savoring the position he has you in. The chase, the seduction is always his favorite part. “My deal is fair. We get what we both want. I promise you, my dear, I would never lie to you. You are my favorite client, after all.” His lips touch your earlobe and he can practically taste your desperation. He sucks in a sharp breath to compose himself while his hand on your waist drifts lower. Raphael has you right where he wants to and he’s relishing in having the hero of the sword coast in his grasp. 

“Raphael—“ His name catches in your throat as his fingers slip inside your waistband. You shudder and your eyes flutter open and shut, your cheeks bright red as he continues lower. For Raphael, this is something that happens every so often with his business — having to sweeten the deal with a little bit of devilish delight, but this felt especially sweet. Raphael is corrupting you himself, in more ways than one. His fingers stroke along your opening, your folds already slick to his pleasant surprise.

“My, my.” He teases and you can feel him smile against your ear. “Seems that you are quite ready to accept my deal, little mouse. Take the quill.” His voice is a mere whisper now, his fingers teasing at your entrance. You hesitate for just a moment, putting on a small act of reluctance before following his command, the quill feeling impossibly light in your hand. Raphael hums his approval and presses one of his long fingers inside your dripping cunt. You dip your head back and lean into him, resting on his shoulder as your eyes close and lips part, an embarrassingly soft moan falling from them. 

A rush of desire courses through Raphael, so strong that it nearly distracts him from the task at hand, a blush rising to his cheeks that unfortunately you can’t see. He gives a low growl, his mouth finding your neck and sucking on the delicate flesh while he starts to curl his finger inside of you. You gasp and drop your hand to grab his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve as he continues, your body writhing and your toes curling in your boots. Your body is impossibly hot, your mind thinking only about how sinfully good his finger feels, the dangers and worries of signing his contract far away now.

Raphael is lost in your taste. His tongue and lips drifting along your neck, planting wet kisses and sharp bites, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He slips another fingers inside, stretching you open with deft digits as he sinks them even deeper. You’re putty in his hands and you hate that it feels so right, that this is what you wanted, what you dreamt about after first laying eyes on him. Your knees start to buckle and the tension in your abdomen is almost at its breaking point, stuttering moans and huffs clawing their way from your throat. Raphael nearly forgets himself, so utterly wrapped up in your taste, your scent, but he’s able to catch himself before he takes it too far. He pulls his fingers from you and starts to stroke lightly at your fully drenched entrance.

“Sign the contract, my little mouse, and I’ll finish you off.” His voice is gravelly and you feel the words vibrate from his chest. You don’t hesitate this time, feverishly signing the contract as his fingers lazily circle your cunt. The second you’ve signed the contract ignites into flames and disappears, quill included. Raphael wastes no time, plunging his fingers back inside and thrusting them roughly. Your hips buck and your eyes squeeze shut, riding his fingers to the edge of the precipice. His teeth find your earlobe, grazing it before giving it a rough nibble that is enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your body trembles and convulses, breathing heavy as your vision blurs and it overtakes you.

Normally, Raphael would have slipped away from his mark, leaving them alone to bask in the delicious shame of making a deal with a devil. But he can’t leave you. His nose scrunches as his eyes meet your glassy ones, your cheeks an adorable shade of red and your lips shiny and pink. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not for you, not for anyone, but he can’t help but want you. Raphael hasn’t felt this kind of want in ages. His heart pounds in his chest, his gaze drifting to your lips. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t resist you.

Raphael’s lips crash against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You groan at the taste of him, cherries and musk, and you melt into the kiss. It’s fierce and possessive, his strong hands grabbing you again by the waist and clumsily pressing you back into the nearest wall. It’s like he can’t control himself which is alarming given how carefully he has crafted his image for hundreds of years just for you to tear it all away in a moment of weakness. He can’t stop himself though. His hands are groping you all over, drifting from your ass to your breasts, with one firm hand settling on your throat.

You can’t breathe and you’re sure Raphael has forgotten that you need to breathe. You manage to tear yourself away from the breathless kiss, air filling your lungs as he bites at your jaw, those caramel eyes never leaving yours. He uses his free hand to tug at your pants, ripping them in the process but he doesn’t care. He needs you. He needs nothing but you in this moment. You’re not used to how quickly he moves, suddenly finding your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you up against the wall with one hand, his hard cock already pressing against your slick entrance. 

You brace yourself against the wall as he slams into you, his sharp nails digging into your ass and a deep moan rumbling from his chest. A scream leaves your lips, your hands pawing at his chest before curling into his doublet to hold on. He keeps the pace desperate, the mere strength of his thighs pounding into your ass enough to leave bruises. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and he whines, a sound you want more than anything to hear again. He captures your lips in a kiss again, his burning tongue dominating the kiss as he fills you so deeply, deeper than anyone has before. Your hands drift up his shoulders to settle around his neck, fingertips brushing the soft curls at the nape of his neck and you swear you hear him purr.

Raphael’s teeth, somehow sharper than before, sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you give a sharp yelp, your body jerking as the pain sears through you. His breath catches in his throat before giving a deep, rumbling snarl against your lips. One last thrust and he’s spilling himself deep inside you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your eyes are wide as you take in his face, his forehead glistening with sweat and a few loose strands of his usually perfect hair, his cheeks flushed red. His gaze meets yours, seeing your reaction and immediately disappearing, only to appear a second later in front of you and tidied up except for a hint of redness in his cheeks. 

Meanwhile your lips and teeth are stained with blood, your hair is a mess and your pants are still around your ankles with the devil’s cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“A pleasure doing business with you, mouse. We shall keep this a special secret between us.” Raphael sounds almost angry with you, nearly growling between gritted teeth but there is something else that catches you off guard. His face – his words sound threatening but his face looks unsure, perhaps even worried?

Raphael leaves in a flash of fire.

part two