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fukashiin · 4 months

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attractive things they do #2 !

— w. housewardens

⤷ "yuutapdatass tweeted: malleus pls stop dming me to rub our feet together as a nightly custom"

cw: hinted suggestive content for malleus, vil and leona. passive reader! enjoy ♡

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

shushing others so you can focus.

pens and textbooks alike cluster along your designated study table, accompanied by the riddle rosehearts as his knee brushes against yours wordlessly. he's utilising this free period, toiling out and about to aid you in your, regretfully, pointless revision. finals season starts to get rigid around this time, so he's more than content to lend a hand if you're willing to put in the effort. except—the students abounded at the table diagonal to yours start getting chattier than what's socially allowed in the library, so riddle calls them out without a pain. one "they're trying to focus." and their mouths are zipped. he turns back to you, unperturbed, and smiles. "shall we continue?"

SO patient with you it makes you cry.

riddle may be a bomb of ire waiting to burst at any given moment, but you believe that his patience shouldn't go uncredited. a tireless awardee, a distinguished laureate, going sleepy in your eyes, although he's wrestling to win over the urge just so you can get the hand of the concept he's cramming into your head last-minute. the scent of white petunias could really alleviate his fatigue, and you make a promise to bring over a few of those in favour for his devoutness to your study sessions. for the time being, he'll make sure you pass, for him, and for yourself.

vows that he'll outdo your stupid ex in every way.

whatever your ex did wrong, riddle will do better. that's just in his nature. he swears with each and every fibre of his body, nuzzling his head in the dip of your shoulder, that he'll love you in ways that your morose ex never bothered to think about. a muttered pledge that couldn't compare to the pious burn that lit in his eyes, like a withstanding candle refusing to go out. his confessions are firm, where he'll be the betterment that you wished for on an astral night, so please, don't put him in your doubt.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

pressing you against the nearest wall he spots to kiss you.

there are numerous attributes to this man that renders you hopelessly drunk in love. one of them is his maddening habit of pressing you flushed against the nearest surface in his sight, and the most poorly lit areas when you're in stranded in a public space to guise the both of you. he executes this with the softest hint of care, ensuring that the landing wasn't too harsh, and advancing when given the green light. wispy strands of hair stroke your skin like a feather, as fine lips come crashing down to yours in a heartbeat, in paradise. he gives you a sheer once-over, bringing up the following statement: "grab onto my vest if you need to."

breathes the confidence into you.

downgrading oneself may be in his dictionary, but it won't appear in yours. he'll clasp any opportunity to brandish his infamous eye-roll to those whose comments about you stray a bit too loud. you may be a bit thrown off by the audacity and aimlessly think about the ways of which you could live up to his—your standards. you take a bit to reorient yourself when you hear your name being called out, sluggish hands circling your waist, as you're unable to finish your thought about how beautiful he is until he asks whether you're actually sparing a single thought for those nobodies. he casually states that you're leagues better than them, whether you think so or not, and won't mind giving you a physical demonstration if you can't bring yourself to accept it yet, because he knows it.

just knows what you want without you having to tell him.

eyeing an accoutrement that could accent your main outfit? longing for a new stand-alone book after the last one you buried yourself in was a letdown? leona has the prices covered. despite your incessant denial, that you don't actually need those, he tells you that a little spending wouldn't hurt. he doesn't need verbal expression to know what'll satisfy you, the flit of your gaze is the only opening he requires. you're embarrassed by how easily you're read, but the hearty smile that blooms on your face will be all the excuses leona needs to keep spoiling you.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

drapes his coat over your legs if you're cold.

sometimes, you swear that he has the whole "affection capability" of a wooden plank. his actions aren't entirely faultless, nor was there not a single second of err in the delivery of his speeches, but he does haul around that handy coat solely for moments like these. perched wordlessly on top of mostro lounge's signature high stools, azul rebukes your rash behaviour after spurting out in the rain without an umbrella, clothes weatherworn and all—not to mention the lounge's benevolent addition of its AC. the chills rack your body from head to toe, not noticing that a fuzzy warmth starts to blanket your legs, as azul pats it down creaseless. he says that you can pay him in return at a later date, your declining health is his utmost priority at the moment.

sets you straight when you need it.

his prized coin collection seems to blur boorishly, bleeding into the soft jazz playing in the back. the thirsting need to word-vomit all over the place, thanks to the hours of ennui you've been experiencing ever since you've trudged yourself back to azul's room, threatens to tip over the edge. he notes your irresolute responses to his (nearly) bombarding questions while he's planted over at his desk, and takes the initiative to make you open up to him. he wants you to look at him, commit his words to memory, as he caresses your shoulder under the twinkling lavender glow of his night lamp with a sure look in his eyes, guaranteeing that you're going to do fine.

has a secret album dedicated to pictures of you in his gallery.

azul tries to get accustomed to the revolutionising tricks of technology just for you. fine, if he has to pass through every single hyperlink and learn unfamiliar terms, that's on him. other than owning a booming magicam account promoting #mostrolounge, he saves a single, peculiar file in his gallery that hoards all the pictures he's taken of you when you're together, on a date or not. he can't tell if your lovely visage is the sole cause to the rapid change of pace in his heart when he's dealing with a mounting workload, but if you ever drag yourself down after taking a quick glance at them, he'll bring you right back up.

KALIM-AL-ASIM

clears the hair out of your face when its windy.

you may be a tad bit hesitant to ride the magic carpet every once in a while, but kalim's sparkling serendipity puts your heart at ease. he takes you for a midnight rendezvous, golden embroidery flashing and sheening at every twist and turn you direct with the tassels with aplomb—as he compliments. his headpieces jangle merrily like a thousand bells in the breeze, up until he notices your sight being blocked by the troublesome hair whirling all over the place. chuckle as he may, he shifts it to the side of your face with a deft hand, tracing the last strands down to your chin. "there. seeing better now?"

interlaces your hand with his in your sleep. (the physical touch GOAT)

wrinkled bedsheets rustle under the weight of your movements, coarse, and even a bit sullen as the morning ooze of sunlight drenches through your curtains, as if it prohibits you to sleep in the entire day. kalim's newfound ailment forces the two of you to be separated indefinitely, so colour yourself surprised when you feel the taut clutch of your hand in another, holding onto the remaining pieces of you that he needily ached for all night. sun-kissed fingers wove between yours like silken ribbons, his eyes pleading for you to stay, as a minute—a moment without you in his world—would be infallible torture.

purchases a piece of the moon for you.

you know those moneyed, wealthy fans who purchase a piece of the moon for their favourite idol? kalim gets influenced, and is driven by his conviction that you deserve something more extravagant than rowdy parades or a hallowed mansion (regardless of how many he wishes to buy). he takes it upon himself to surf across Lunar Registry, registering your full name and gifting its stated amount for approximately...5000 sq ft of land of the celestial body that hung high in the sky, radiating its extraterrestrial luminance on your nights of sobriety. you chide him for such an impulsive act in return, but soften up when he states, upright, that he would gift you all the stars in space if he could.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

brings you to touch him himself.

no use if you're cowardly in the bold language of physical touch, vil will simply make you oblige into feeling him, whether its physically or through minds. oftentimes you find yourself hastily straddled on his lap, him decked in his satin-sewn pajamas, as you prod and poke his hands nervously while scrutinizing every area of skin that screamed of his unyielding years of care. there's a teasing lilt that lurks behind his voice, questioning if you're seriously taking your time trying to figure him out where you're aware that he's less than patient. he seizes your hand in his grip, and leads them to his chest—shamelessly. if he needs to remind you of who you're with every day, he'll be more than committed to reel you closer to his body.

demands full eye contact.

tsking and huffing is, an unsurprisingly normal habit for him to adapt. and this includes moments of when you're shying away from him, heaving under your tense breath about how unfairly attractive he is. slick in his latest outfit tailored specifically according to his calibrated measurements. high stilettos bests your height, and he almost seems disappointed in the lack of praise he's receiving (although he knows exactly why). you feel a manicured finger tilt your chin upwards, as your teetering praises come to an abrupt halt. he smiles, demanding you to look him in the eyes throughout every second you're worshipping him.

tells you to ready yourself before he showers you in his love.

vil wants you to experience each and every slide of his nails against your feverish skin, whispering pure promises and cherishing you, affirming that you're worth much more to him than a million grand. if you ever throw yourself below the bar lower than necessary, he waves your deplorable behaviour away, and asks if you truly believe that you're tumbling down that route of thinking when you're with him. vying arms enclose your figure like a velvet blanket, surrendering your chapped lips a centimetre away from his, as his refined scent tickles your nose until he advises you to prepare yourself to revel in his untiring devotion. all your worthwhile priorities were put on hold until further notice.

IDIA SHROUD

leaning back in his chair after finishing a game.

you arose from your sleep, previously dozing off while perusing written tales of the past propped up on idia's bed. the culprit of your awakening is off cheering in the same vicinity after speed running a round and emerging victorious, unmanned, of the latest version of a first-person shooter game he recently installed on his computer. he starts to recline in his chair as it creaks off his weight, arms slackened behind his head and his sweater gliding off of his stomach, exposing the barest bit of delicate skin that indulges you to run your hands across. he emits the heaviest of sighs while he runs a sore hand through his hair, as the disorientation of your mind starts to scatter all over the place.

"i thought it'd cost more."

Idia Shroud will not have you get scammed by lowly, needling scammers surfacing online websites like newborn piranhas. his head begins to split when you spout about the official item being too pricey and that you won't be able to milk a single penny out of your derelict dorm, so he insists that he pays for the item for you himself. you send him a link of the mentioned item, and he felt like he was dragging himself through wet cement throughout the whole mire. he remains indifferent to the price overall, and goes "oh? i thought it'd cost more." with a brazen smirk etched on his face that it almost gave you a whiplash.

discreetly orders things to your front door.

quivering lips settle atop of your shoulder for the last time before he sends you back from his room after the intimate amour that had you two wondrously occupied for the entire day. you pilfer a single gummy worm from his desk, and cloak yourself further into his jacket that intoxicates every one of your senses as you streel into the night air that reeked of petrichor. your steps begin to feel like bricks, whilst your eyes were betraying your wish to stay alert. as you approach the front door welcoming you to your dorm, you gauge the sight of a small box placed on the carpet with a small note plastered on it that follows the lines of "for you, pretty thing."

MALLEUS DRACONIA

cushioning your head with his hand.

bony fingers sail through the pleasance of your hair, twirling each and every tendril that it meets and bringing them to his defined, pillowy lips. amusement cracks through the ominosity that sits in his eyes, shielded by his bangs as he beams a smile your way before grasping your shoulders in a split second. he pushes you down onto the mattress with a thud, cushioning your head with a single hand, and tells you to save your yelps and complaints before he endows you with the ability to sing for him all night. he reassures you that he does in fact, know how to secure the deadbolt on the door.

doesn't bother with any potential contenders whatsoever.

malleus but it's "okay, and?" personified. yes, he's heard of the towering sovereign in the neighbouring country who was recently appointed. yes, he's heard of the lucrative salesman nearby situated in town whose attention you captured after visiting his booth. yes, he's heard of Leona Kingscholar. but he could not give Two (2) flying tamagotchis about whoever has been swaying your way, tossing cheap and low-grade courtship in an attempt to earn your affection. he notes that he does have some cheesy pick-up lines of his own to use, but unlike the others, he knows you inside and out. he has no use for the mainstream ways of love and is eager to please you to his own liking, further revealing the unparalleled reverence he maintains for you and only you.

brushes his fingers over your collarbone.

once you step across the threshold of his bathroom, adorned in his nightwear, malleus can't help but dim the lights with the flick of his finger after catching the sight of your collarbone that peaks out from underneath. he's in front of you the moment you blink, and hums in response to your addled self. he brings his ice-tipped fingers to your neck, padding it with caution, and sliding them down to the V-shaped collar that hides the rest of your warmth. stark fingers ghost over the structure of your collarbone, and malleus asks whether you think the gibbous moon will be kind enough as to not set so early.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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pr0cyon-lotor · 2 months

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AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Person™ but you know who else a Very Not Good Person™? Say it with me: Shen Jiu

Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.

But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.

Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"

Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.

When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.

Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.

Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.

So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.

He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.

You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.

You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.

You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.

When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.

So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?

Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)

#ignore me im insane #i can only articulate my ideas through silly haha jokes #but like y'all get it right?#svsss #jiuyuan #scumcum #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #shitpost #idk i'm just rambling #personally I always saw SY on the asexuality spectrum but still that man is PRETTY gay about men #especially pretty men #good for him

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ozzgin · 5 months

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I really hope you continue the eldrich God story. I may or may not have become obsessed with the idea, and i think it's actually really funny and I also just love the idea of a God being in love with a human.

Also, I love your writing and art! I hope you're doing well!

Yandere! Eldritch God x Detective! Reader

Based on this prompt and this meme. You're sent to a remote island to investigate a string of murders, and end up with a horde of cultists and their Lovecraftian God who is very much obsessed with you. Don't worry, he just wants to help you with your case!

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, tentacle tomfoolery again

[More Monsters]

The island checks all the boxes for a stereotypical shady place: the grimy boat captain who talks in riddles and vague warnings, the constant fog, the tavern filled with rumors and fears, the bizarre statue of a creature with tentacles. You were expecting most of it, save for their patron God being a literal monster.

Soon after your arrival, you discover that you’re being followed by men in dark robes. Could it be related to your case? A little alcohol-aided interrogation, and the locals confess to you about the existence of a cult. The dots begin to connect.

Unfortunately for you, whatever theory is cooking up in your mind couldn’t be further from the truth. The patron Beast of the land has been watching you from the moment of your arrival. He’s rather intrigued by your nonchalant city attitude, your stubbornness, your lack of any sense of danger. Thus he demands that you’re brought to his lair.

A game of cat and mouse. You are now convinced this said cult is responsible for the murders, so you delve deeper into their secrets. At the same time, the men put all their efforts into chasing you down. The Lord's wishes are their command; for how long can you outsmart sheer numbers?

At last, they succeed. You’re dragged over, cocooned in thick rope. “My Lord, we’ve brought you the sacrifice”, one cultist proclaims victoriously. Sacrifice? The ancient creature gazes at the men with utmost confusion. He frees you from your restraints with a mere point of his tentacle appendage, and proceeds to lecture his devout following for treating his special guest with such shameful brutality. Everyone blinks in disbelief, you included.

What the hell is this, some beastly romcom? Once everything is cleared up, you dust your knees, stand up unceremoniously, and tell the cosmic deity you’ve no time for idle gossip. “There’s a criminal running free and it’s my task to stop it”, you bark. Aha, that’s the very same attitude that got his nebulous heart pumping with curious desire. He cannot explain the maddening interest he’s taken into you. The monster releases a monotonous hum, causing you to jolt in surprise. The cult leader gasps. “He…he wants to help you solve the case”, the man concludes, defeat in his voice.

“Does it have to be all of you?” You whine, clicking your tongue at the sight. It’s the morning after the godly encounter, and you’re greeted outside your room by the cult leaders and their monster. “I can’t be discreet with a dozen monks after me. Not to mention…” your eyebrows furrow. “What on Earth is he wearing? Is that a detective hat and a mustache? Are you mocking my job?” You demand, glaring at the eldritch beast and his ridiculous disguise.

“Excuse me, I’ll have to ask you to quiet down”, an employee suddenly interrupts. “You and the gentlemen over there.” You stare at him incredulously. Can he really not see he’s facing an enormous, tentacle monstrosity? You swear you can discern a grin forming across the creature’s amorphous, unholy features. Alright, you’ve been convinced. What now?

As a child, Sherlock Holmes was one of your favorite books. You'd flip through the pages and daydream about your own future as a detective, though your little fantasies never included Watson as a cursed entity of a thousand tentacles. The eldritch creature seems to be more interested in you than the case itself. Eyes always fixated on your movements, tendrils creeping around you, never leaving your proximity.

Why would he need to look elsewhere? He can already tell how things will unfold. He is, after all, the God of this land. He knew your wanted culprit had been hiding in a sealed room right under your nose, as you dusted for footprints and scribbled hurried notes. He knew the underground tunnel had deadly traps, which would have normally put your investigation to a swift end. "Kind of suspicious to leave his trail unguarded like this", you mumble in deep thought. The cosmic God smiles.

He wouldn't dare ruin your fun. Consequently, he only interferes when your safety is involved. As annoyed as he is by the criminal's persistent attempts to kill you, he doesn't want to steal your grand capture. Besides, he is very much content with the current circumstances.

As the two of you follow along the dark passageway, you clear your throat, lips pursed awkwardly. "Uh...Thank you for dealing with the obstacles", you finally say. The monster pretends to ponder your words. "Hey now, don't play dumb with me. The conveniently deactivated bombs? The mutilated guards clumsily stuffed behind the door? I am a detective, after all."

You feel a thick tendril wrapping around your arm, and you turn to glance at the creature. His eyes of spiraling depths regard you intensely. A voice suddenly echoes in your head; is he trying to communicate with you? Deep, resounding, and imposing. "I am looking forward to our next case."

"Next case? Sorry pal, I work alone-" your throat clenches involuntarily. Somehow, your innards are flooded with a particular kind of certainty, dictating an ironclad truth: you do not have the option to refuse. You sigh, exasperated. "Fine! Have it your way. At least skip the fake mustache", you beg, then pause. You slap a second tentacle that has made its way under your shirt. "And avoid groping me when I'm thinking. You interrupt the little gray cells at work." You tap your temple to prove your point, and the eldritch God bows lightly. Of course.

He'll refrain himself until you're off work, Detective.

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ldknightshade · 6 months

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morality: a character creation guide

creating and understanding your oc’s personal moral code! no, i cannot tell you whether they’re gonna come out good or bad or grey; that part is up to you.

anyway, let’s rock.

i. politics

politics are a good way to indicate things your character values, especially when it comes to large-scale concepts such as government, community, and humanity as a whole.

say what you will about either image; i’d argue for the unintiated, the right image is a good introduction to some lesser discussed ideologies… some of which your oc may or may not fall under.

either way, taking a good look at your character’s values on the economic + social side of things is a good place to start, as politics are something that, well… we all have ‘em, you can’t avoid ‘em.

clearly, this will have to be adjusted for settings that utilize other schools of thought (such as fantasy + historical fiction and the divine right of kings), but again, economic/social scale plotting will be a good start for most.

ii. religion + philosophy

is your oc religious? do they believe in a form of higher power? do they follow some sort of philosophy?

are they devout? yes, this applies to non-religious theist and atheist characters as well; in the former’s case… is their belief in a higher power something that guides many of their actions or is their belief in a higher power something that only informs a few of their actions? for the atheists; do they militant anti-theists who believe atheism is the only way and that religion is harmful? or do they not care about religion, so long as it’s thrust upon them?

for the religious: what is your oc’s relationship with the higher power in question? are they very progressive by their religion’s standards or more orthodox? how well informed of their own religion are they?

does your oc follow a particular school of philosophical thought? how does that interact with their religious identification?

iii. values

by taking their political stance and their religious + philosophical stance, you have a fairly good grasp on the things your character values.

is there anything they value - due to backstory, or what they do, or what they love - that isn’t explained by political stance and religious and/or philosophical identification? some big players here will likely be your oc’s culture and past.

of everything you’ve determined they value, what do they value the most?

iv. “the line”

everyone draws it somewhere. we all have a line we won’t cross, no matter the lengths we go for what we believe is a noble cause. where does your character draw it? how far will they go for something they truly believe is a noble cause? as discussed in part iii of my tips for morally grey characters,

would they lie? cheat? steal? manipulate? maim? what about commit acts of vandalism? arson? would they kill?

but even when we have a line, sometimes we make exceptions for a variety of reasons. additionally, there are limits to some of the lengths we’d go to.

find your character’s line, their limits and their exceptions.

v. objectivism/relativism

objectivism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “an ethical theory that moral good is objectively real or that moral precepts are objectively valid.”

relativism, as defined by the merriam-webster dictionary, is “a view that ethical truths depend on the individuals and groups holding them.”

what take on morality, as a concept, does your character have? is morality objective? is morality subjective?

we could really delve deep into this one, but this post is long enough that i don’t think we need to get into philosophical rambling… so this is a good starting point.

either way, exploring morality as a concept and how your character views it will allow for better application of their personal moral code.

vi. application

so, now you know what they believe and have a deep understanding of your character’s moral code, all that’s left is to apply it and understand how it informs their actions while taking their personality into account.

and interesting thing to note is that we are all hypocrites; you don’t have to do this, but it might be fun to play around with the concept of their moral code and add a little bit of hypocrisy to their actions as a treat.

either way, how do your character’s various beliefs interact? how does it make them interact with the world? with others? with their friends, family, and community? with their government? with their employment? with their studies? with the earth and environment itself?

in conclusion:

there’s a lot of things that inform one’s moral compass and i will never be able to touch on them all; however, this should hopefully serve as at least a basic guide.

#ldknightshade.txt #writing #writing tips #creative writing #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #writing help #how to write #writing tumblr #writeblr

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pinkmirth · 1 year

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KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

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acid-ixx · 3 months

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I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.

I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them

I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊

omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—

you have more than just your family interested in taking you.

major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.

connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.

if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.

the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.

#🍨... yael's talking #🌷... yael's works #series: again & again #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batboys #yandere connor kent #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #yandere conner kent

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luvf4ngz · 6 months

Text

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.

"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.”

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.

This was a much better use of his time.

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.”

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out.

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.

He’s…. big.

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.

“Isn’t it?” He grins.

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #dc x reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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grugruel · 10 months

Text

Let the Light in

Pairing: priest!Bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your wedding, you excpect to love your husband, not fall for the priest.

You'd never been a believer. But when your marrige spiraled into darkness, you had to find light elsewere. So you asked the Lord for help, and He answered.

Ironically enough, He gave you a most devout follower, the priest.

Word count: ca 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, blasphemy, soft!priest!bucky, pinv sex, oral sex (f receiving), passionate sex, fingering, thigh-riding, adultry, praise (m receiving), priest kink.

AN: its been proof read! I dont understand how yall read it before the fact, my misspellings were crazy. I also edited it a bit, gave yall about 200-300 words more.

I stod silently on the sidewalk, with my back to the road. Numbly observing the scene in front of me as I waited. Cars were rushing past behind me, slowing as they noticed the crowd.

The chilly autumn winds blew my coat off of my stocking clad legs, revealing them to the elements. I couldnt be bothered to care.

The cold did not affect me anymore, I was strung out on feeling.

I watched my husband struggle, and the guests scramble to help him. They got him on his feet, and his best man slung an arm around him to keep him from falling again. My eyes brimmed with tears, ready to fall any second now.

I felt a hand touch the small of my back in silent support. A palm pressed firmly into the arch below, fingertips curling, rouching the fabric of my dress. I closed my eyes and all my troubles were wisked away for but a second, until I heard the guests approach and the hand left me. I opened my eyes to a grim sight.

We met in college, my husband and I. He'd been lovely and attentive when we first met, he made me fall in love with him. He proposed to me on our graduation, and i'd never been happier.

Unfortunately though, it didnt last that long.

As we were fresh out of school, both with stellar scores and brand new degrees. We got our dream jobs, and bought ourselves our dream home.

Everything was perfect, until he got fired. Why? He wouldnt tell me, he left me in the dark, refusing to tell me himself.

Naturally, I grew suspicious.

So I called his former boss, who told me that they'd caught him with his secretary bent over his desk. They said he'd gotten a reputation within his business and would be experiencing difficulties in finding a new job for himself. My crying increased gradually through out the call, this was the first time hed let me down after all. His boss was very apologetic and so was my fiancé.

He found me sat on the floor with phone in hand, a complete mess of tears and running mascara. Immedietly showing worry, 'Whats going on, whats happened?' He asked, thinking somebody died. But when I glared at him, repaying his silence with my own, he understood. He stuttered an apology, his words a flurry of explanations and sorrys, sounding truly regretful.

So I forgave him, silly me.

With time, bitterness manifested within him. Resentment over the fact that I was well liked and did good work at my own job. It led him down a pityfull path, finding solace in alcohol, resentment turning into lousey drunkeness. I should've left him, but chose to forgive him. I loved him, despite all.

Eventually he found a new job, nowehere near the prestige of his old one. But it calmed his drinking.

When he sobered slightly, he apologized continously. Telling me he promised to get better and told me he wanted to have our ceremony, because I deserved it. Foolishly, I belived him. He stayed sober several weeks before the wedding, and I thought it could be a new start.

But here we are now.

I stood behind the doors of the nave, inhaling and exhaling big shaky breaths, trying to gather strength for what I was about to throw myself into.

The priest, father Barnes. The one who would be marrying us, came to me before I walked down the aisle.

'Miss.' He began, his eyes pleading as he took my hands into his, 'Its now my place, I know. But your betrothed-'

'Youre right, its not.' I cut him off, the idea of discussing my fiancés indiscretions with the priest was not appealing. 'I apologize father.' I sighed and met his eyes, 'Hes drunk isnt he?'

The priest tilted his head to the side, realising I was already well aquainted with the vice, 'Well, yes. . .' He said, sounding apologetic.

I nodded my head, deep in thought, 'Alright, lets not waste anymore time then.'

'You're still going ahead with the wedding?' He asked me, an incredulous expression shaping his face.

I looked down, studying the intricate details of my wedding dress. Id picked it myself, my favourite flowers covered it. That man of mine doesnt know my favourite in anything, nor would he notice them on my dress.

A melancholic smile covered my lips, 'You must think me foolish father.' I whispered under my breath, chuckling quietly.

He shook his head and moved one of his hands to my chin, tilting my face to meet his. The other grabbed my hands, and squeezed them, 'I think youre strong.' He told me, a reassuring smile on his lips.

'He promised me he would get better.' My voice was meak, a tear streaking my face.

'You're a good woman.' He breathed, letting go of my hands to cup my face. He leveled his head with mine, his tall stature forcing him to hunch as his eyes locked with mine, 'Too, good.' He whispered, 'And, Its not my business, thats true. . .' Another tear fell, and he gently stroked it away with his thumb, 'But he does not deserve your kindness.'

My cheeks burned hot, a blush crept up my face. I had not heard such kind words in a long time. I could not controll my crying any longer, unstoppable tears came rolling down my cheeks, 'I have to believe him, father, I have to try.' I told him quietly, hating how desperate my voice sounded.

'I love him.'

He cringed at the words, furrowing his brows 'I admire your devotion.' He said gently, 'Do you want more time? Im sure we can wait a little longer.' He tried, but I shook my head.

'No, I dont want to keep the guests waiting.' I took a deep breath, 'Do I look ok?' I asked him.

He nodded, but pulled the cuff over his hand and dabbed my cheeks dry.

His eyes flickered over my face, studying my features, my wet eyes and rosy cheeks. He leaned in, kissed my cheek and whispered 'Angelic.' His hands fell to my bare shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

He turned around and as he was about the leave I grabbed hold of his wrist, carefully tugging him back. He faced me and I let go of him realising that perhaps it wasnt appropriate of me. 'I just-' I began, but my voice broke. He met my eyes and pulled me into his embrace, 'Thank you, father.' I whispered against his chest.

He rested his head on your shoulder and rubbed your back gently, holding onto the fabric of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers. Studying the beautiful pattern. He slid his hands up your arms, feeling a sudden urge to kiss the bare skin beneath him. He pulled back hastily, clearing his throat as he silently rebuked himself.

'I must take my place dear.' He said, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. He gave me a last smile, then left, taking his place by the altar.

I heard the music starting and the muffled sound of the crowd standing up. I sighed, steadied my breathing, and opened the doors to the nave. Everyone turned around, looking at me. Whispers rumbled through the crowd as I began walking, their stares were making me nervous.

Through the gloom of the church, light shone through the windows at the altar. I looked at him for comfort, handsome as he was, I met his eyes and found it within them.

He could not tear his eyes from you, you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, courageous and proud, you walked down the aisle. When your eyes met his, he smiled proudly. Hoping you would find some comfort in it, and you found it.

As I approached the altar, I tore my eyes from his and looked at my fiancé. His best man holding him upright, otherwise slumping over. He smiled sloppily at me, I gave him a strained smile back.

The ceremony was over quickly, my husband stumbled through his vows and his kiss tasted of smoke and whiskey. In fact, the entirety of him was drenched in the odor.

I smiled and thanked everyone as they congratulted us, and carefully, tiptoed around the subject of my husband.

I hurried to change into my reception dress, it was all black. Black coat, dress, heels and stockings. Fitting, I thought. As this felt more like a funeral than a wedding, burrying the woman I once was.

People were drinking, laughing and dancing. The reception was doing a wonderful job of keeping everyone cheery, everyone except me. I sat silently by our table, watching my husband as he kept drinking and his men trying to calm him down. He had barely spoken a word to me, he was to drunk to stand, to drunk to have our first dance. I felt myself sinking into oblivion as my polite smiles and thank yous were running out.

But someone approched me, snapping me out of the darkness. I looked up, and the light returned.

He reached his hand out to me, 'May I have this dance?' He asked, his white collar stark against his black shirt.

'You may.' I smiled, the first genuine smile I'd given anyone since the night begun.

I laid my hand in his and he led me to the edge of the dance floor, somewhere we could be at peace. In our dark colors we went unseen, tucked away from prying eyes.

I snaked my arms around his neck and his arms circled my waist, pulling me tightly against him. A bit unorthodox perhaps. But I didnt mind and neither did he, it seemed. I leaned my head against him as we swayed to the music, basking in eachothers prescence.

He sensed that you werent interested in talking, but rather needed a shoulder to lean on. Someone to hold you up, as your ungrateful husband couldnt even do that for himself.

For several songs, we just held eachother. Until the evening began winding down and we had to depart.

'I think this was a mistake.' He whispered.

'Which part?' I asked, and he sighed.

'Dont hesitate to come to me if you need anyhting.' He said quietly, 'Please.' he pleaded. I nodded, thinking id never take him up on his offer.

Now, I stood on the street. Still feeling the priests hand on my back although he'd already taken a few secure steps back.

I watched as my husband being carried to our car, as we were headed for our honeymoon. Two weeks in rome, I wish I could truthfully say I was excited. They shoved him into the back, and once again congratulated us with cheapish smiles. I walked around the car and opened the door, about to sit down when a hand slid into mine. I looked up and my eyes met his beautiful blues once again. He assisted me into the car, lending me his strong arm for support as I sat down. His hand slid out of mine, and a note was left in my palm, reflexicely I closed my hand around it. 'Anything.' He whispered and backed away, closing the door gently.

Our car drove off as the guests were waving us of, but all I could think about was the priest disappearing in the distance.

I opened the note, written down was his number and adress along with a few intricately drawn flowers.

I smiled to myself, quickly stashing it away in my pocket, afraid my husband would see. But as I looked at him, I realised. He was dead asleep, snoring even.

I opened my hand, tracing my fingertips along my palm. Trying to recreate the feeling of his hand in mine, his gentle, yet firm touch on my skin. I sighed, feeling my tears returning.

I cried silently, afraid to wake him. The driver looked at me through his rearview mirror, I met his eyes and quickly averted my gaze, crying even harder, but I couldnt even do that in peace. God, what had I done. I leaned my head against the seat, closing my eyes. When suddenly, I felt fingers on my knee. I shut my eyes harder, begging for it to be my imagination. But it wasnt.

'My, beautiful wife.' He drawled, tracing a finger along my jaw as his hand slid up my thigh. He sat forward, leaning towrd the drivers compartment and shut the hatch.

I opened my eyes and faced him, 'Aw, crying of joy sweetheart?' He asked, he was so delusional it was scary. I nodded, and feigned a smile which he returned lazily, then leaned in to kissed me.

I closed my eyes again, canceling out the taste and smell of liqour, shutting my ears to his voice.

And when his finger reached under my dress, It no longer felt like him. My husbands face was no longer my husbands, his voice and touch was someone elses.

All of a sudden my core was aching for more.

His kisses on my skin felt like heaven, his touch like fire and when he pulled me on top of him. I opened my eyes, and was met with blue, black and white.

Weeks went by and my thoughts never left father Barnes, whenever my husband made love to me, I made love to a priest.

Eventually his drinking subdued and he started taking care of himself, but grew more distant by the day.

It did actually make my existence bareable.

But there came a day, when I got home from work early and things were not as they should. The were heels in the doorway and clothes strewn on the floor. As I followed their trail, I found my husband and his secretary at the end of them. Naked, sweaty and monaing, in our bed, in our home. I was quiet, lost for words, but they mustve noticed my presence.

Because they stopped and threw the sheets over themselves, covering up. 'Sweetheart, its not what it seems.' He managed, struggling to clme up with an excuse. God, the stumache on that man. I felt like screaming, like cursing him and his entire bloodline. But he wasnt worth it.

I turned on my heel and he scrambled out of bed, dragging the sheet with him as he followed me out of the house, apologizing prefusely.

I shut him out, rage filling me as I got in my car and drove away. I drove to the only adress that came to mind.

I walked up to his house and knocked on the door, a few moments passed and he opened.

With wide eyes he looked at me, unable to hide his surpise. 'I uhm, I-' I stammered, my own surpise catching up to me. I hadnt had time to think this through, I acted on pure instinct. 'He cheated on me.' I got the words out, finally taking a breath as I finally understood their meaning. Misery overtook my rage, and my eyes welled as I tried to explain myself. 'I apologize for barging in on you father.' I started, 'Ive been thinking about you and I-' rambling, all my thoughts and feelings poured out of me. In the doorway of this poor mans home.

He reached out to me and pulled me into a hug, backing away from the door and let it fall shut behind me. He rested his head on top of mine as one of his hands held my head against his chest, stroking my hair. The warmth of his home embracing me.

'Can I confess something father?' I asked him as I laid my arms around him, much like our dance a few weeks ago.

'Anything.' He answered, kissing the top of my head.

'Ive sinned.'

He pulled back with a confused look on his face, but didnt let go. 'Lets hear it.' He ordered patiently.

'Ive. . . Been thinking of another man.' I whispered, looking deep into his eyes. 'During actions that should only take place between husband and wife.' I told him quietly, and his face grew pale. 'Ive had an emotional affair with this man, unbeknownst to him.' My breathing turned heavy, as my gaze switched to his lips, 'But, me and this man. Were both bound by vows you see.' I said and let go of him, understanding my words as I said them, and stepped back. Suddenly regretting coming here, as I felt rejection was imminent. 'Mine are already broken, but his are not and he cannot break them. He would not.'

'You should let the man speak for himself.' He said, serious in tone. His gaze locked in on me, as he stepped closer. 'I havent been able to stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I've tried.' He whispered, laying his hands on my hips. 'Ive never seen a woman so beautiful walking down the aisle, god himself mustve blessed you.' I snaked my hands around his shoulders, burrying them in his hair. 'Im hoping he would bless us, too.' Leaning in, his lips were a ghost over mine. 'I would care for you, in a way your husband never could. He does not deserve you.' He leaned his forehead agagaist mine, 'I'd work everyday to deserve your love, your kindness, your presence.' He said quietly against my lips, planting a gentle kiss on them and pulling back slightly to give me room. But I chased his lips, returning the kiss feverishly. Grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pulled him impossibly closer. His hands roamed my back, reaching under my shirt to undo my bra. It fell to the floor and he pulled my shirt over my head in one quick motion, making me gasp.

I removed the collar of his shirt with my teeth and ripped his black shirt open, burrying my head in the crook of his neck, 'Youre not a beginner, are you father? I asked, between kisses. Breathing heavily as I latched onto his skin, sucking at the sweet spot between his neck and collarbone.

He moaned, a smirk shaping his lips, 'Saints also sin from time to time.' he breathed, his hands falling to my ass and lifted me into his arms. I chuckled, letting go of his neck and circled my legs around his hips. I pushed my bare breasts against him and he burried his face in them, in turns taking them into his mouth. 'Where?' His voice came muffled by my skin.

'Everywhere.' I answered.

I could feel his grin against my skin, as he nipped my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp. He walked us toward his bedroom, and laid me down on his bed. He stood back, studying me as he took his shirt and pants off. I unbuttoned my own pants and shimmied out of them, raising myself onto my elbows, watching him as he took me in. His eyes roamed my body, thighs, hips, stumache, breasts. He loved all of me, 'Youre perfect.' He said, lust in his eyes as he climbed on top of me. 'I need you.' He whispered.

'You'll have me.' I told him and flipped him over. Positioning him against the headboard as I stradled his thigh, grinning wickedly and leaned forward, kissing his jaw. 'But first-' I whispered against his ear, 'I want to test your self control.' He looked confused, and I began grinding my clit against his thigh, a whimper escaping me. His hands flew to my hips to help me along, but I grabbed them and led them up to the headboard. I leveled my face with his, ghosting my lips over his as I had him hold onto the board, 'No touching.' I whispered and pecked his lips. I leaned back and my grinding resumed, I grabbed his thighs for support as the heat from the friction was making me swoon. I leaned my head back, biting my lip from the pleasure and when I looked back at him, he was holding onto the board for dear life. The muscles in his arms and jaw clenching as he fought himself to stay still, his eyes were running up and down my body.

The way your hips swayed and breasts bounced, it was sucking all the restraint out of him. His hands were itching to touch you, to just feel your skin under his fingertips for a moment. It would keep him fed for the rest of his life.

I hummed, 'Im- im gonna-' I stammered, my breaths frenzied as I was closing in on my orgasm. The crazy in his eyes made me smile devilishly, I felt evil, in the best way. My hips stuttered against his thigh, my ruts becoming faster and shorter as I was approaching my release. When I looked at him, his eyes were pleading, begging for permission, but it was to late. I rushed over the edge in a second, collapsing onto him, panting hard as I was catching my breath.

'May I?' He asked, his voice strained.

I kissed his chest and answered, 'Yes, please. You did so good.' He grunted at the praise, surprising me. He grabbed my ribs and threw me under him, hurridly kissing his way down my body until he reached my thighs. Spreading them, he kissed his way up the inside until he reached my panties. Without a second thought he ripped them apart and burried his face in my cunt. Tasting me, licking my juices, sliding his tongue through my folds and kissing my clit. A string of curses fell from my lips, as he pushed a finger inside of me, carefully sliding it in and out. Then adding another, and eventually a third, he thrusted them into me, my moaning telling him he was on the right track. He curled them into my spot and I nearly screamed.

'Just like that, good job.' I breathed and he moaned against my clit. What fun. He reached into his boxers and stroked himself, the sight made me mad. And for the second time, I came tumbling over the edge. He was not far behind, coming into his own hand, drenching himself in his seed. I grabbed his arm and pulled his hand closer to me, licking a stripe of his hand. He grunted at the sight, spurring me on as I took his fingers into my mouth. Sucking him clean as he watched, furrowing his brows, he became plagued by lust.

I pulled him closer to me, meeting his lips in another kiss as he pulled off his boxers. I reached down, stroking him as I lined him up with my entrance, 'You did such a good job, father.' His head perked at the praise, like a puppy being told hes a good boy. Gratefully pecking my face, cheek, chin and jaw, below my ear and neck. He put his weight on me, we couldnt possibly get any closer to one another. 'I need you in me father.' I told him bluntly, and leveled his head with mine, sliding inside. Kissing me mean while and I moaned into his mouth, sharing my breath with him. I laid my hands on his hips, telling him to move by pulling and pushing. Helping him set a gentle but firm pace, he lowered his head to the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. 'Let me hear you father, dont hold back.' I whispered and appreciatively he grunted against my skin, moaning in my ear. It was fiendish, it was fantastic. 'Deeper, please.' I asked, pulling on his hips to drive him deeper and using the weight of his entire body he thrusted into me, in rythm with his grunts as our bodiess moved together.

'Tell me im good, please.' He begged, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smiled, 'Youre being so good for me father.' I whispered into his hair.

'Thank you.' He whimpered, putting even more force to his thrusts as he traced my collarbone with kisses, all the way to my shoulder, repeating "Thank you." Over and over again inbetween his kisses. His thrusts were coming faster as he was closing in on his orgasm, driving me over the edge with him. 'I- im- im close.' He stuttered faintly.

'So am I, almost there father.' His pace hastened as his hand slithered between our bodies, finding my clit and circled it. 'God' I moaned, spots specking my vision as the priests thrusts became frenzied. He pinched my skin in warning, reminding me not to take the lords name in vain. Then we came together, and he collapsed on top of me.

'Im sorry for swearing, father. You bring it out of me.' I whispered.

He chuckled, 'Youre forgiven.' Throughout the night, we made love on the couch, the floor, the kitchen table and shower.

Eventually, we got back into bed. Holding eachother tightly as we drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up late the next day, there was a vase of flowers on the bedside table with a note under it, the letter "-B" was written on it.

I unfolded it and he had written me a message, "I had to go to church, but didnt want to wake you. I hope on seeing you later, please stay if you want to. Id love to come home to you. -PS, Your favourites."

I smiled happily and smelled the bouqet of tulips, a soft, warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

For a long time love had felt dark to me, it had felt cold and lonely, but now. . .

I had let the light in, he was my light.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

1K notes · View notes

retrosabers · 1 month

Text

𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒.

anakin skywalker x fem! reader

summary: you really shouldn’t be letting anakin touch you like this. but if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

contains: 18+ content. MINORS DNI. very steamy kissing, some minor grinding, riding, choking if you squint, anakin being a little shit

word count: 1.3k

a/n: kinda a rushed/shit ending but i found this in my drafts & i’m trying to post consistently to keep inspiration coming. so enjoy this baby fic of ani ;)

there’s a certain thrill that comes with breaking the rules.

you were always one to abide by them. believed that they were created for a reason, and that was reason enough to obey.

then you met anakin skywalker, and he threw that entire notion out the window.

he was temptation personified. forbidden fruit that you longed so desperately to have, to taste. between his lidded gaze and cocky smiles you found yourself entranced with the chosen one in ways that the council would’ve deemed shameful.

no attachments. that was the rule. but could desire be confused with attachment?

you were about to find out.

anakin’s lips slot against yours like it was meant to be. your hands tug at the collar of his robes, desperate to pull him impossibly closer in the dim lighting of the hallway. your every nerve was hyper aware of both his touch, and your surroundings.

anyone could come across you in this compromising position. despite the fact that everyone else retreated to their chambers for the evening, there was still a chance that a straggler was left wandering the halls. it makes you tense in his hold and pull away reluctantly.

you breathe out his name. a soft, desperate sound that makes his dick hard. the corner of anakin’s mouth turns up in a smug little grin.

“we can’t,” you shake your head, stating it matter of factly. like it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, because it was. you were never a rule breaker, only a devout follower with good intentions. out of all the disobediences you could’ve ever committed, this would by far be the worst.

the rules of the jedi council weren’t something you treated as a request. they were orders. defying them meant defying a belief system you held so close to your chest, and letting go of everything you’ve ever known.

anakin knows it. and he’s determined to push you to the limit.

when his mouth returns to you, it’s gentler. more intimate. as if he’s trying to convince you to let go without outright saying it. his flesh hand comes up to softly stroke your cheekbone and you melt into him once more. your body thrums not only with lust, but with something else entirely. there’s a deeper connection between you both, an electrifying sensation that’s being drawn to the surface.

it’s like the force is telling you this is what you’re meant to do. and that maybe, just maybe, not every rule is meant to be followed.

anakin lets out a deep chuckle as you drag him back to your quarters with an eagerness he’s never seen before. as soon as the door shuts he presses you against it, aligning your cunt with his growing erection while his lips attach themselves to your neck.

when he finds your sweet spot, you gasp, muttering a curse as he smirks against your skin. one hand is wrapped firmly around your waist while the other maps out your body. a brush of fingers against the top of your ass, an experimental squeeze of your breast. anakin was making haste in figuring out what little things made you tick. he knew time was of the essence, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“just tell me what you want,” anakin murmurs next to your ear. his voice was low, dripping with a desire you could only dream of. you rubbed your thighs together to try and relieve the growing ache between your legs. he takes note, ego inflating over the effect he’s had before even touching you properly. his metal hand grabs your chin between the thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet.

“whatever you want angel, it’s yours.”

he means it. fully and completely. tonight, anakin was yours to take. you could bleed him dry of anything and everything and he’d die a happy man.

your hands find purchase at the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his sandy colored curls and dragging his face back to yours. it’s a heated mess of teeth and tongue that has you whining into his mouth when his hand lightly wraps around your throat.

he knew you weren’t just oogling at it for nothing.

when anakin pulls back, your lips seperate with a wet smack. he thinks he might cum on the spot just from how wrecked you look already. eyes on the brink of glassy, desperate and pleading for him. your lips in the most perfect pout, kiss bitten and glistening while you rake your tongue over them. and his hand around your throat, like he’s staking a claim over you. that you’re his and only his.

to him, you’ve never looked more perfect. and he doesn’t think he can wait any longer.

anakin starts undressing you with urgency. as though if he waits so much as another second, you’ll vanish into thin air and he’ll never get to have you like this again. you follow suit, shoving his robe off his shoulders and pushing him closer to the direction of your bed.

“this is wrong,” you squeak out as more and more of your clothes get thrown about the room. anakin’s top half is completely bare, his skin burning hot.

“so wrong,” he teases with faux concern, flashing his canines as he yanks your pants down. in a less than graceful stumble you kick them off, leaving you in nothing but a simple pair of underwear. suddenly you begin to feel self conscious under his gaze, but it fades when you realize his blue eyes were nearly black.

drinking in every inch of you with a look like he was going to devour you whole.

he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. and it made you long for him even more.

in a bold move, you push at his chest, watching gleefully as he falls back against the mattress. the new angle highlights his growing erection. your mouth waters at how big he looks despite the layer of fabric that still stands between you. anakin, ever the cocky observer, watches as your eyes widen and your chest heaves.

“if you want it,” he spreads his legs wider, a dangerously divine invitation. “then you’ve gotta come and get it.”

you heart stutters in your ribcage.

this was it.

the defining moment where your self control was put to the test.

an act that was so simple, yet so complicated.

when you suck in a breath and experimentally place your knees on either side of his hips, it dials up the heat. every inch of your exposed skin feels like it’s set ablaze. an almost delicious pain that slowly melts into pleasure.

when you reach below the waistband and wrap your hand around him, there’s an overwhelming sense of adrenaline. an exciting rush that you haven’t felt in what feels like a lifetime. the low whimper he elicits sends a shiver down your spine, feeling like a drug you want to take over, and over, and over again.

when you push your panties to the side and finally sink down onto his length, it feels like diving headfirst off a cliff with no end in sight. falling into an endless chasm of self reflection, realization, and ecstasy. your stomach does somersaults as you take him inch by inch, soft, breathy moans leaving your mouth the deeper he gets.

“that’s it,” he coos, brushing a stray piece of hair out your face. “i know you can take it.”

his praise makes any remaining anxiety dissipate.

you wonder if you should be disappointed in yourself at how quickly you caved. but in that very moment, as you begin to rock your hips back and forth, you realize that maybe you were wrong to be so obedient all this time.

because if this was wrong? then you sure as hell didn’t wanna be right.

thanks for reading! <3

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker #star wars #hayden christiansen

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