#ahhh the imagery

[kalivasquezart]

a change in you

part 1 // part 2 // [part 3]

[theygotlost]

the king of carrot flowers 👑🥕🌼

[lalune9x]

SCTIR Translation - Chapter 472: Letter (3)

The central table was also decorated with flowers. A five-tiered tray was piled with various desserts. The elegant tea set was adorned with flowering vines that spilled over and cascaded down to the floor. Beyond all that stood Sung Hyunje.

Chapter translation under the cut.

---

Chapter 472: Letter (3)

'This is close to what I expected.'

It seemed to be a banquet hall or something of the sort. The overall lighting was dim, with only the center brightly illuminated. Round tables and chairs had been pushed to the edges, leaving just one table in the middle.

The air was perfumed with the scent of flowers and grass. Not only were the tables decorated with fresh flowers, but every corner of the room was adorned with them. I wondered how much all those flowers must have cost.

'Looking at this, it seems he really does like flowers.'

Director Song once mentioned that over the years, he'd received enough flowers from Sung Hyunje to fill several trucks. He also had an indoor garden at his house. Though on the other hand, Yoohyun and Hyuna-ssi had apparently never received any flowers from him. Soyoung had said she'd gotten one or two occasionally, though she'd grimaced while commenting that they felt more like a warning, the way the mafia sends messages.

The central table was also decorated with flowers. A five-tiered tray was piled with various desserts. The elegant tea set was adorned with flowering vines that spilled over and cascaded down to the floor.

Beyond all that stood Sung Hyunje. I'd often wondered before why he went to such lengths for this kind of thing. Though in fairness, he probably just gave orders while his subordinates did all the hard work.

'They must be well-paid.'

Probably something like 100,000 won an hour. Honestly, I was also kind of tempted. Imagine earning a month's salary for a single day's work. And even though those tasks could be done by a regular person, given that an S-rank hunter was involved, they probably got hazard pay too.

As I crossed the plush carpet, I couldn’t resist asking. "How much did you pay for all this labor?"

"…Hmm. I’m not sure."

"But you must have had a budget."

"It's pocket money. I don't set a budget for light hobbies. Surely Han Yoojin-gun is the same."

"No, not really. I even recorded things like the cup of tteokbokki I bought on the street in my expense journal. I set limits for how much I can spend on snacks each month."

I had been the same even after becoming an adult. Even when I bought a cup of coffee on a cold day, I'd think about how much money I had left to spend that month. Now, though, my assets were so vast that keeping track had become difficult, but I never spent money carelessly on personal hobbies. I always checked roughly how much something might cost and how much I'd already spent.

"Well, Sung Hyunje-ssi, I suppose if you went bankrupt, you'd bounce back quickly."

Even if all the Awakened and dungeons disappeared tomorrow. Maybe he could go into show business. These days, high-rank hunters were considered the new nobility, but before that, celebrities had held that status. He was Korean by nationality, but I bet if you dropped him in Hollywood, he'd fit right in, as if he'd been a child actor there who'd been successful since a young age.

It was late autumn, almost winter, but the table that I stood resolutely in front of smelled like spring.

"I was too agitated yesterday," I said, meeting his golden eyes squarely. "Because I like you, Sung Hyunje-ssi. That's why I got so angry, disappointed, and frustrated."

If I hadn't been fond of him, I would've just thought, 'Oh well, this is a hassle,' and left it at that. If I had never stepped inside the marked boundary, I wouldn't have felt suddenly pushed out. If a close friend said out of the blue, 'I'm moving away today,' of course, I'd be confused. I'd be hurt they didn't tell me sooner, and I'd worry about why. But if it were just a stranger from the neighborhood moving, I'd just think, 'Ah, those people are moving,' and end it there.

"I also like you very much, Han Yoojin-gun," Sung Hyunje said as he lifted the teapot.

"If you're sincere, then you could show me the letter. And you could also tell me exactly what you're planning."

He poured the tea into a cup.

"You said you received a proposal, but you didn't tell me any of the details."

Given that the people involved were those who had dragged me to China, I was naturally sensitive about it, but maybe the proposal was something trivial. It could just be a dinner invitation. Maybe Park Hayul's noonim even had a thing for Sung Hyunje. He did seem to be popular with older women. If you thought about it, even the Crescent Moon was older than him.

"This letter, you mean?"

Sung Hyunje put down the teapot and took out the letter. I immediately held out my hand, but of course, he didn't give it to me.

"There are restrictions, naturally," he said.

"A contract, huh? Well, there's no way someone would deliver such an important letter without any precautions. It's probably something like 'don't show or share the contents with others,' right? Come here."

It was just a contract. Surely it couldn't be SSS-rank or higher. I opened my arms as if to hug him, but he just placed the letter down on the table.

"If the contract is broken, Chloe will leave too."

Ah… Of course. Even if they locked down the airports, an S-rank hunter could easily cross borders. She could swim to China or Japan if she had to.

"Then will you help us catch Hunter Chloe?"

"What should I do?" Sung Hyunje said, the corners of his lips curling in a mischievous way. "The contract terms aren't that straightforward. Naturally, there are exception clauses."

He tapped the table lightly with his index finger, right next to the letter.

"I don't have the loyalty to be willing to risk my life," he continued. "If I can't protect the letter with my own abilities, and it gets taken from me, it won't count as breaking the contract."

"Hey, Sung Hyunje. If you don't want to die, hand over that letter."

Obviously, he didn't give it to me. That so-called exception clause was basically meaningless. How was I supposed to take the letter from him? Maybe I should butter him up and take him to meet the Elder.

"If you have time, would you like to go on a date with me? I know a nice dungeon nearby," I said. I'll treat you well.

"As much as it's a shame to turn down a rare date invitation from you, we haven't even visited the aquarium yet, so I'll have to decline."

"I think we could make do at your house for that."

Sung Hyunje put on a disappointed face, as if he was going to cry. He really could make it big in Hollywood. Just look at that detestable expression.

"Ah fine, let's go to the aquarium," I said. "How about we take everyone along?"

"If even one S-rank hunter accompanies us, taking the letter out of my inventory could result in a breach of contract."

"…That's annoying. So you can only bring out the letter when you don't feel threatened?"

"That's right. Right now, I can even place it on the table with no problem because Sung-Han Gyeol didn't come along."

"It's Han Gyeol. Maybe it'd just be easier to check the letter after we've caught Hunter Chloe."

How could I possibly take the letter from him by myself? Even if he took a few steps back after putting it down, I wouldn't even be able to touch the table before he restrained me.

"She might not come in person to get the reply," he commented.

"Then could you just... Ah, that would be a waste."

If Sung Hyunje stayed on our side, it would be better to keep the contract intact, regardless of whether Chloe came in person or not. We could dig up more information that way. So, the best course of action would be to check the letter's contents without breaking the contract.

'...But there's really no way, is there?'

F-rank stats, no attack skills, and even though I had various gear, my opponent was a disgustingly strong natural born S-rank with combat foresight. There was no way I could take anything from Sung Hyunje with my abilities. That was why he was so relaxed, knowing the contract would remain intact.

I had to take the letter in a situation where Sung Hyunje was absolutely certain he wouldn't lose it. It was like being told to go through a closed door without opening it, breaking it down, or using teleportation.

His golden eyes curved in a relaxed smile.

"Shall I add a condition that if you successfully take the letter, I'll obediently cooperate?" he offered.

Was he making fun of me now—wait a minute.

"You're annoyingly confident," I said.

I frowned deeply and tensed my legs. I glanced to the side, pretending not to look at the letter, and—

Crash!

I lunged towards the table. The letter that had seemed to be within reach vanished in an instant, and the table tilted sharply. The flowers and dessert tray came crashing down to the floor alongside me. I ended up sprawled on the carpet, covered with the tablecloth and flower vines. My thigh, which had hit the table hard from my forceful lunge, was throbbing.

"That wasn't a very commendable attempt," he chided.

I raised my head from the pile of flowers. Golden chains that had appeared out of nowhere were holding up the teapot and teacups. Not a single drop of tea had spilled. Forks and knives jingled as they dangled in midair.

"Well, I thought I'd at least give it a try," I muttered, sitting up among the heap of flowers.

Sung Hyunje lightly flicked the fallen table up with the tip of his foot. As if pulled by invisible strings, it righted itself neatly. The teapot and teacups settled smoothly back on top.

"As you can see, there's no way I can take the letter from you by force," I said. "So how about a wager? Judging by the conditions, it seems it might work."

"If there's even the slightest chance I could lose, then it's impossible."

"We'll make it something where you have no chance of losing. If I win, you hand over the letter, completely intact, with the contents readable. If I lose, I'll do one thing you want, Sung Hyunje-ssi, whatever it is. But it has to be something related only to me—nothing like handing over the Rearing Facility, or asking Myungwoo to make you a weapon, or forcing Han Gyeol to change his family name."

If Sung Hyunje lost a bet that he was absolutely certain he wouldn't lose, it would be like losing the letter by a force of nature. That level of loophole should work, and was probably why he was taking out the letter and putting it down in front of me.

"That's quite tempting."

"You can ask me to side with you, if you want. Or you could even take me with you when you leave Korea."

At my words, Sung Hyunje's eyes narrowed momentarily. Did he interpret it as me asking to be taken along if he was going to join Park Hayul's side or wherever else?

"The condition will be one I want, not one Han Yoojin-gun wants."

"In any case—what do you say?"

"And the wager is?"

"Hmm, let's play tag. It won't be for long—let's say just ten minutes. I absolutely won't go through the door, or break the walls, ceiling, or floor."

"You have teleportation items, don't you?"

"With the points I have left, I can't afford any. And teleportation can't pass through barriers. Besides, it's only ten minutes—do you really think you couldn't catch me if I jumped outside? If I receive help from anyone else, I'll automatically lose. That includes monsters."

Sung Hyunje tilted his head slightly. He knew that, on my own, I couldn't possibly escape him for ten minutes.

"Since I'm at such a disadvantage, how about you give me three tries instead of one? What do you think?" I suggested.

"I could still win even if it were just five minutes, however…" He looked at me carefully. Of course, he'd be suspicious. "You said you spent almost all your points in the Nightmare Dungeon, didn't you?"

"Before that, I blew through them buying Yoohyun a sword. I can't afford anything like an SSS-rank item, even if they're one-time use."

"You had been serious about trying to kill Director Song Taewon, too," he said thoughtfully. He seemed to be recalling the items I had used back then. The most useful one I had left was probably the Mini Mini Cookie.

"And the dungeon rewards this time wouldn't be for yourself either," he said.

"You're unnecessarily well-informed."

Sung Hyunje took out a pocket watch from his inventory and placed it on the table. A contract appeared beside it.

"If I happen to win, you can't break the contract or withhold the letter," I added.

"I don't have the loyalty to suffer a penalty. If it's taken away because my abilities fell short, I'll accept it gracefully."

Just in case, if I won, I would deactivate my Curse Resistance immediately. We each signed the contract. Right after that—

Clink! 

"Ugh, wait a moment!"

In an instant, chains wrapped around my body. I was lifted lightly into the air, flower petals falling in a flurry.

"That's try one."

"Shouldn't you give me time to equip my gear?!"

"I'll give you three minutes. And of course, I won't deduct it from your time."

How generous. Just before the chains released me, I used an item. The King of the Mist Sea's 71st Drawer. My surroundings immediately shifted. I could see the bright blue sky, and beneath my feet—

"What—!"

Splash!

The sound of displaced water echoed loudly. Damn it, was it because she was a jellyfish? Why was there water here?! I had Grace activated, of course, but that didn't prevent me from swallowing a mouthful of water. At least it wasn't salty.

"Damn it—ugh—stupid Jellyfish!"

— Tweet! Tweet!

Wasn't it called a 'drawer'! Even Grace seemed startled and popped out. I floundered in the water, trying to swim, but even staying afloat was a challenge. Quickly, I pulled out a wire and threw it toward a tree that I'd caught sight of. The wire wrapped around the tree, and I used it pull myself and crawl onto land.

"Cough—that was close…"

I could just leave this place immediately, but then I'd lose. So, soaking wet, I collapsed onto the grass looking like a drowned rat. Both my shoes were gone... they had been expensive.

"No, but this… Can't I specify where I land?"

Appearing above water might not matter for the Jellyfish, but it did for me. With Grace, I'd honestly prefer a fire pit. Then again, I guess being in a fire pit could still be dangerous if I ran out of oxygen. But seriously, what kind of drawer was this…

"This drawer…"

— Tweet!

As I stood up, a building that looked like a villa came into view. It was a three-story mansion painted in bright colors that reminded me of a resort in the Mediterranean or some kind of vacation spot. It was on a small island surrounded by water, but the lake wasn't very large. The horizon curved like a dome enclosing the area in all directions. It felt like being trapped inside a snow globe.

"...Is this supposed to be small compared to Myungwoo's smithy?"

They had said it was just a simple storage room? And that it wasn't spacious?

"Grace, you'd better head back inside. It might be dangerous."

I couldn't be sure what might pop up. To kill 10 minutes, it would be better to stay put and not wander around unnecessarily.

I felt pleased at the thought of how surprised Sung Hyunje must be right now. He definitely didn't expect me to have an item like this. In terms of grade, it would probably be about L-rank. Especially since I'd gotten it from someone who had been a former enemy and who had no reason to be friendly towards me. Unless he was a fortune-teller, there was no way he could have known.

I decided to leisurely wait out the 10 minutes before going back out.

"If I can keep using this, it could really be used as a vacation home."

The weather was nice, and the water looked clean. I wondered what the inside of the mansion was like. It seemed that it would be quite difficult to replenish the drawer's mana stores, though.

As I slowly walked toward the entrance, casually glancing around, something caught my attention.

'...Huh?'

Something moved. What was that?

[frogoru]

do u think aubrey from omori gets religious guilt. i do not think about her canonically being christian a lot because i forgot about it but with the whole church fight scene and everything woah that is surely something that happensyeah... i wonder what her take on it would be. like. if she's fully into the faith or if she goes out of desperation for some semblance of a support system. oh oh oh also veering away from aubrey, i think basil would be atheist 100%. he'd probably be the type to look at all of the tragedy in his life and have the mindset of god not being real/not caring about him if he is

[scucharlie]

straight up biting it and by "it" I mean. my hand clean off my body

[yourbleedingh3art]

[politemagic]

i want you to know that every time I get an email about you commenting on my ao3 i go to my big desktop with a 40 in monitor to gaze upon your words. they make my day every single time. without fail. here's a snippet from the second half of Give (chapter 25)

The water pressed in around Vessel. He dared to inhale. His body cried tears of black ichor and soot. It could not process everything without its mind. Vessel laughed into the open water, spewing rot and pain. He was a corpse. He was a corpse within his own mind, and his body was faring no better.

ooooohoooohooohooo!!!!!

every time i get the email that you’ve updated i get so excited i want to run and read it immediately but i always wait until i can give it the attention it deserves. they’re one of my favorite emails to receive🖤

[winxanity-ii]

DAMNED DEVOTION [3/3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That... that was inside me...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thepowerofswayze]

demonstration

originally on ao3

based on this post by @fantasylandloser

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 1.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, college era art AHHH, friends to lovers, first time together, mostly smut, oral sex (reader receiving), art is a munch obviously, reader wears a bra and skirt

summary: Catching Art up on your adventures gets hard when he doesn't get your explanations, or your hand puppet examples. Looks like you just have to show him exactly what went down. Based on this post that i could not stop thinking about. :))

☆

“Oh my god, fuck you!”

Art chuckled from where he stood, watching as you tossed the t-shirt he’d balled up and chucked at you back in his direction. It fell harmlessly to the floor a foot from him, and you glared at him as he snickered, picking it up and putting it away.

You were visiting Art, your close friend from high school, at Stanford. At that moment, you happened to be explaining how an interaction at a party at your university had gone a couple weeks before. Art never really liked listening to you talk about guys- hence, the shirt thrown directly at your face when you’d started describing this particular frat boy to him in detail- but he’d given up complaining a while ago. It was either that or be honest about why he hated it so much, and that was never going to happen. So, he tidied up his room as you explained the lead up, the flirting, the stumbling up the stairs. He fell back parallel to you on the bed as you got to the “good part”, his head by your legs and an arm over his eyes, like he could block out the imagery.

“Anyway, I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, like when we were flirting, but then I was on him, kinda like-” You took a moment to sit up straight, grinning as art groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to see you better. He watched you attempt to mimic the position with your hands, your left hand being the guy you were talking about, your right being you.

To Art, it just looked like you were mashing your hands together. He looked up from your hands to see you raising your eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was following. “Huh?” He said.

With an exasperated sigh and without another thought, you pushed yourself up on your knees and waddled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and hovering just over his torso. For a moment, Art just watched, bewildered, as you steadied yourself with your hands on either side of his head. He let himself fall back from his elbows, hands sliding up your hips and settling at your waist, catching momentarily on the fabric of your skirt. His fingers peeked just under the hem of your shirt. Your skin tingled where he touched you.

“... Like this,” you said finally, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, uh.” You moved your hands to his chest instead, careful not to push too hard (though with the muscle he’d acquired since he’d started playing tennis for Stanford, you were sure it bothered him much less than you thought). “More like this, I guess.”

Art nodded, quickly licking his lips before asking, “Then?”

You tried not to look at his mouth. “What?”

“Then what did you do?”

It finally hit you then: what the fuck were you doing, climbing all over your best friend to ‘show him’ how you and some guy had been fooling around a couple weeks ago? That would just mean fooling around with him, obviously. That wasn’t really the plan.

But, it was too late for your common sense to kick in now. There you were, your hips hovering over his, not quite touching yet. You watched his eyes dart down to your lips, then drag slowly back up to meet your gaze. You couldn’t wait here and think about what you’d gotten yourself into and how this would change your friendship forever, though you got the feeling he’d let you take as long as you wanted.

Then what did you do?

You steeled yourself, biting your lip and watching his lips part slightly as he tracked the action with his eyes. Then you took that moment to fully sit on his lap.

You could feel his chest expand beneath your hands with his sharp inhale, his eyes snapping down to your hips, then back up to your face.

“This,” you murmured. You’d intended for it to come out cocky, maybe even a little seductive, but you could hear the breathlessness in your own voice. You were trying your best to ignore the growing pressure where your hips met his, though really, it was hopeless. 

Art’s ears were burning a bright shade of pink. The urge to gently nip at them crossed your mind, just for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Then?” His voice was almost a whisper, chest rising and falling unevenly with his nervous breathing. The way he was looking at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real…

Fuck.

You leaned forward, trying not to let your breath stutter at the friction caused by the movement, until your lips hovered just over his. Then you kissed him.

You pressed your lips together gently, lingering for a moment before pulling back by centimeters. His lips chased yours, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly, and you were right back on him, lips falling open against each other. A soft sound escaped him as your hips shifted against his, along with a contented sigh from you. You repeated the motion, reveling in the low groan he let out, followed by your name murmured into your mouth.

Art’s lips were soft. And he’d shaved recently, you thought, hands cupping his face. The smooth skin of his cheeks was a stark contrast to the calloused hands he was now raking over your thighs, your skirt pushed up around your hips. You broke away from his lips, kissing down his neck instead, listening to the noises he made whenever you left a mark, whenever you ground against him just right. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re- You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” You left another kiss just below his ear, before murmuring, “What is it?”

You could feel him all but shudder beneath you. “Fuck,” he groaned, then your name, before he looked you in the eye. You resisted the urge to dive right back in. “Let me eat you out,” he said, suddenly determined, though still flushed and dazed. “Please.”

All you could say was “What?” because, surely, this was one big dream.

“Please.” His hands hadn’t stilled, still rubbing shapes into your thighs, his hips rolling up against yours. “Can I?”

Your entire body was on fire. “Okay, yeah. Yes.”

He wasted no time flipping the both of you over, laying you against the bed so he could kiss down your neck. You barely had a moment to process, your hands moving to tangle in his hair, one of his knees slotted between your legs. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, prompting you to lift yourself slightly and help him get it off. Your bra came next. “You, too,” you murmured, pulling at his shirt and making him chuckle. He reached behind his head, tugging it off in one swift movement and abandoning it beside your shirt and bra on his freshly cleared floor.

One of his hands slid down your chest from your shoulders, enclosing one of your breasts, the thumb circling your nipple. You bit your lip and sighed, pulling him down for another kiss by the back of his neck.

Art let his hand trail from your chest down the sides of your stomach, then slotted his palm right between your legs, over your underwear. You gasped quietly, pulling away long enough for him to return his lips to your neck, your shoulders, your collar bone. You murmured a couple choice words as he started to move his palm, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. The dulled sensation was almost enough on its own, paired with the kisses he left against your chest. “Arthur,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.”

A grin overtook his face at the use of his name, his hands only slowing down, tracing torturously slow circles over you. Art only snickered at your glare before hooking his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down and leaving you in your skirt pushed up to your waist. He watched you carefully as he slid further down so that his head was between your legs. His finger only traced a line from your clit to the bottom of your hole before whatever restraint he had was gone, and his mouth was on you.

Art’s tongue flattened against you, the warmth and friction making your head fall back as your eyes fell closed. “Fuck,” you moaned, hands threading into his hair as he answered with an equally obscene noise, muffled against you. ‘Hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him, his mouth falling into a vague rhythm, eyes closed blissfully, whining into your pussy like it was doing him just as much good as it was you.

You thought about asking him to finger you while he worked, but his tongue prodded at your entrance and almost immediately, words escaped you. You brought one hand up to your face, clasping it over your mouth to muffle your moans, but Art stopped suddenly, watching your face. You whined your confusion, and he reached out to tug at your hand. “I wanna hear you. Let me.”

You blinked at him, chest heaving, and murmured “Alright,” before watching his head dive right back between your thighs, one hand still intertwined with yours. You had no choice but to moan unabashedly, your other hand busy pulling at his hair.  His free hand was wrapped around the outside of your thigh, pushing it in towards his head, so tightly you were sure it couldn’t be comfortable. But there he was, continuing to move his tongue against you like there was nothing else he’d rather do, whining and whimpering like you were his first meal in weeks. “Fuck, Art,” you cried, barely keeping your eyes open so you could watch him move. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He groaned at that, relenting the pressure of your thighs against his head just long enough to reply: “That’s it, baby, please.” If he had anything else to say, he couldn’t keep himself off of you long enough to finish, already pushing your thighs back against his head, nose bumping against your clit as he bobbed up and down.

It seemed like that was all it took, really. You squeezed his hand and his head embarrassingly tight as you felt yourself tip over the edge, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Art kept up his rhythm as you cried out his name, your hips rolling against his face. He didn’t stop even when you’d come down, chest heaving, until you basically pushed him off, desperate for a moment of relief.

He kept a hand on your thigh, the other untangling from yours to push his blonde hair out of his eyes and look at you. He was breathing as hard as you were, you noticed. His mouth hung open as he panted, the entire bottom half of his face coated in saliva and your arousal. Fuck, he was pretty like this. “‘S good?”

You shook your head, beckoning him toward you and pulling him down by the back of his neck when he was close enough. “You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, lips against his almost before you were even done speaking. You didn’t mind the stickiness. You pulled back to look at him, then glanced down to the tent in his pants. “Lemme return the favor.”

Art let out a breathless chuckle. “I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. “Not if you’re the one touching me. Not after this.” He gestured to the shine still on his face, to your thighs beneath him. Your face burned, and your smile was so wide that your cheeks hurt.

You shrugged. “Lemme try anyway,” you said, before bringing his ear down to your lips, nipping at the lobe gently. “Please?”

He couldn’t say no to you.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

We're so back baby! Happy weekend everyone, apologies for the delay whilst I've been away travelling. I HAVE been reading lots on my trains however, so here's another round of the fic I've been reading this fortnight whilst not actively flailing over the glorious new episodes. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for new episodes.

6 October 2024

still the bone remembers, still it wants by @eddiebabygirldiaz in which 'Eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. Buck helps.' Ohhh I absolutely adored following along on this ride as a wip and now it's complete in all its glory! From his childhood responsibilities looking after his sisters, through the events of season 4 and 5, Eddie struggles with identifying what he wants in life, and Frank gives him homework to make a list of simple desires for just himself. What follows is a beautiful journey of unpacking what's in his heart, with the most gorgeously in love and enamoured Buddie. The imagery in this fic melted me, from the orange tree to dancing and more. Indulgent in the best possible way. I'm still swooning from how much they love and laugh together!

tell you my sins (sharpen your knife) by @sonofatoasterwaffle from sweetness to....Hot Priest Smut! (And yet somehow, still sweet?!) This is gloriously fun and filthy and a little tongue in cheek crack treated seriously, in which Eddie deals with his recognition of his feelings for Buck by fucking a Priest about it....and makes Fleabag eat her heart out. It's 'for anyone who dreams about reclaiming pieces of the religion that hurt them in a fun and sexy way.' Featuring incredibly funny Bobby along the way. Poor guy.

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) by @capseycartwright on the other end of the Catholic Guilt explorations comes this 'Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.' In which Eddie seeks various methods of support in dealing with the fallout from season 7, from therapy to a veterans group to reexamining his childhood and his relationship with God. Really beautifully achey and cathartic and uplifting.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ahhh I had so much fun reading this! Buck is a succubus, and the firefam a mix of fae and humans in the know about the magical world. Eddie is a new recruit, and he can't help but find Buck mesmerising as they become best friends. But Buck has been coping with his inadvertently fatal (to his partners) natural state through a series of unhealthy mechanisms and it's taking its toll. When we say Eddie would step over the body to help support Buck...this is this fic! And yet it's also so supportive and sexy and a weaves in canon in such surprisingly effective ways!

the moon don't hang quite as high by @glorious-spoon in which 'after Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.' I am so incredibly obsessed with the dialogue in this fic, it captures Buck and Eddie's voices and idiosyncrasies so well and the patter of their banter and friendly bickering, particularly how weird they are about their own and each others relationships (affectionate.)

The Write Way To Love by @spotsandsocks this was such a cute AU, in which Buck is an anxious children's fantasy author and Chris (and Eddie) are some of his biggest fans. Running an art competition for children to submit their drawings to be printed in his next book, the elusive E. Buckley makes a rare public appearance and bumps into single Dad Eddie, where sparks fly. Can Buck get over the voice in his head self sabotaging his path to happiness? This fic hit very close to home and I had so much fun reading it, and loved Christopher's voice in it so much!

a sweetheart (to hold when i'm alone) by @clusterbuck at all times on my Give That Man A Cat agenda, directly following on from the zoom call in 8x01, Eddie finds a stray in his back yard, adopts her and falls in love. Things might not be healed with Chris but perhaps they can take tentative steps forward. Eddie holding on to the mask even as it fractures, and yet not giving up, finding inner strength and outlets for all the love he holds in his heart.

cool dry place by @gayeddieagenda 'After a long summer, Buck and Eddie try to figure out if this is the right time.' Another which just nailed the voices so well, I love the patience of this fic, a really lovely look at restraint and allowing grace time to heal and feel surety, without punishing characters for needing time, and with a beautiful sense of precipice for a new relationship.

And finally two tumblr fics from @hotshotsxyz, the taste of iron a powerful alternate ending following 8x01 (what if Buck hadn't tackled Gerrard) with a brilliantly effective mirroring of the shooting arc, and a hilarious Brad Torrence POV fic from 8x02 this method acting (might pay our bills) in which we hear his inner monologue whilst riding in the back of the stolen fire engine with Bobby and Buck. Perfection!

That's it for this week, bee seeing you soon after Athena and Jem land this plane!

[creatively-cosmic]

i wanted to draw something different today soooo. i went n scrounged up a buncha pokepastas that ive read/pokepasta ocs ive seen around recently (mostly via mutuals)! ill tag creators and link sources under the cut, and ramble a little abt my thoughts... ^^

if anyone wants me to untag or remove their stuff from this btw let me know i didnt ask i kinda just. started doodling.

also half of yall i either never followed or only Just did i need 2 remedy that. ive been observing yalls stuff from a distance i keep forgetting to Press the Fucking Button is all

Your Friend Silver (Elias) by @uuberwachen ! this was such an INSANELYYY well written story and it stuck with me for DAYS. it really slots in the space in my mind that holds the classics and the twists and stuff with it genuinely got me. i cant recommend it enough if anyone who sees it hasnt read it yet. i got so excited when i saw a dedicated ask blog went up. i wish i werent scared of sending in questions to those things

Pixel Blue: 3DS VIRTUAL CONSOLE (2016) by @calybunz ! ahhh this was such a cool one to read! id see updates on it incidentally n i can tell a lot of work went into it- it was definitely worth it! its well written with a lot of heart.. maybe im just a sucker for stories that focus on a sympathetic blue.. the ending made me so SAD dude what the fuck. though my favorite parts were probably the dream sequences- godd the imagery of it all was fantastic!

Nuzlight (Mia) at @nuzlight-mia ! this is one i dont know much about yet, but her personality and design really captivated me when i first saw her! she seems like such a sweetheart and i look forward to getting to see more of her :3 i feel so bad for her situation.. the story n concept are all so interesting!

Missing Numbers (Green) at @themissingnumbers ... is our thing but green is hells (@hells1nfern0 ) dude that i have no sway in so. whatever. im unwell about him im excited for more to be revealed abt him :] i cant really say more than that since i know his secrets

FIRE RED FREE DOWNLOAD (Infected/Abandoned RED) by @aibouart ... another one i saw the design of first and was just IMMEDIATELY struck by. i love when stories twist in-universe things that're generally treated as normal and mundane and use its horror potential! a parasect parasite outbreak where the protagonist gets infected by that and ends up full of mushrooms...? thats the kinda shit i love to see >:)

Jack by @sparklingdemon ! cool ass design ive been wanting to draw and a cool concept to go with- the creepyblack protagonist as a grinning-reaper type where the ghost is an extension of him rules. i also loveee when designs utilize the fossil missingno stuff!! kabutops's arms lend themselves REALLY well to being a scythe

Glitchy Red: Retold by @lycankeyy / @glitchyred (idk which blog youd rather have tagged sorry). so i saw this when the official ao3 repost went up or got mentioned or something and it. really. resonated with me. like its hard to put my thoughts into coherent words, other than i had to just. Lay Down for the rest of the night after reading it and just feel whatever emotions struck me. it cut really deep but honestly- that's just fantastic. it's not often that i read something that makes me feel as viscerally as this rewrite did, and i have nothing but adoration for it because of that (we do have the plural bias which doesnt help regarding this lol). in my mind this is the definitive version of glitchy red.

Sanctuary AU (Aster) by @possiblyfunny . ANYWAYS ON A LIGHTER NOTE i fucking love aster more than i can put into words. given we get tagged in almost every piece of him that goes up its always such a delight to see and learn more about him! id been planning to draw him for months at this point but only just got around to it haha -v-" i look forward to seeing more abt the sanctuary au! please continue to tag me in those posts idc if it includes my guys or not i just care so much abt it

[artofmaquenda]

Ahhh my foil prints are here! :D

'Blood Moon' is a bold exploration of menstruation, fertility, and the cycles of life. Using the imagery of a female body, it reflects the connection between the moon’s phases and the body’s natural rhythms. While the body depicted is female, the artwork speaks to universal themes of transformation, release, and renewal, resonating across diverse experiences and identities.

Historically, menstruation has often been used to marginalize and oppress women, casting a natural, powerful process as something shameful or impure. With this art, I aim to reclaim this often painful and marginalized experience, transforming it into a symbol of strength, resilience, and empowerment.

By normalizing menstruation, I hope to raise awareness of the suffering endured by many due to societal stigmas and to honor the beauty and significance of these natural processes, creating space for diverse connections to the cyclical nature of life extend beyond one type of body or experience, whether viewers experience them directly or relate to them on a symbolic or metaphorical level.

Prints are available here: https://artofmaquenda.etsy.com/listing/1791935997/gold-foil-edition-a3-blood-moon

[desultory-novice]

Silliness aside, while i was gathering images from Moonlight Mansion for that last post, I uh... realized something kinda BIG...

That towering manor, with the big "M" doorway? A symbol like that kinda reminds you of a certain airship.... ...But no! Surely that decorated "M" stands for "Moonlight!"

Oh, wait.... Oh no...

On the gate...is that......? IT IS!

IT'S DARK META KNIGHT! And all the BAT imagery everywhere too...! Ahhh! I can't believe I'm just now seeing this!?!

:cue "Damn, bitch, you live like this?":

But I will be taking those stained glass windows of the Guardians of the Mirror World as more evidence for my "Dark Meta Knight was a mole who truly cared about the Mirror World" theory though!

(And maybe the grave stone is for the Mirror Meta Knights, like when I theorized they'd all died and that's why DMK's such a loner...)

[cherie-doll]

greetings

This blog will be where I dump my stories & fics.

about me: unemployed graduate with too much creativity, she/her, aro, mexican-american, intj, goth/alt, visual-kei and kpop enjoyer, likes to play video games, writer, adores reading & literature, into anything vampire related, art & history

(im ageless to reduce the chances of ppl ik irl finding my acc again, but im not a minor dw)

fav book shelf: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders by Vítězslav Nezval, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho, Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Emma by Jane Austen, East of Eden by John Steinbeck, The Judgment by Franz Kafka

ཀlinks 🔗

୨⎯ ao3, goodreads, fable, ko-fi ⎯୧

Donations & Fundraisers

۶ৎMasterlist

‗ ❍König:

Only Rule of This World

Brain rot

Brain Rot nsfw

‗ ❍Horangi:

SFW Alphabet

‗ ❍Ghost:

Words of Violence Break the Silence

Zombie!Ghost x Reader

lol imagine ghost posing for a pic

‗ ❍Alejandro:

Brain rot

Funny Brain Rot Moment

‗ ❍Rudy:

Funny Brain Rot Moment

‗ ❍Phillip Graves:

Crave

A Shining Star Taken From The Sky

Phillip getting glasses brainrot

Hispanic Phillip Graves lol

First Kiss w/ Phillip hcs!!1 AHHH

Sweet Phillip Graves hcs

‗ ❍Keegan:

Oblivious

Oblivious #2

SFW Alphabet

Keegan x Assassin!Reader

Keegan w/ a clingy, tired Reader

Sharing Barracks w/ Keegan

Grumpy!Keegan x Pregnant Wife!Reader

Kissing Keegan Through His Mask

Keegan Having A Nightmare

First Kiss w/Keegan hcs!!1!

there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Yandere!Keegan x Reader

‗ ❍Nikto:

Arranged Marriage!Nikto x Reader

𓆩♡𓆪Headcanons:

The Orange Peel Test

Beauty Mark

When They Come Back

They Realize They’re In Love With You

Night Routine

Their Dream Life With You

Missing You While They’re Away

Them As Parents

Them As Parents #2

Hidden Affection

Miniskirt

Summer With Them

Their First Date With You

They're At Sephora Buying Your Makeup

They're At Sephora Buying Your Makeup #2

You Use The Head Massage Spider Thing On Them

They Pay For What You Want

Taking Care Of You While You're Sick

You're A Bookworm

You’ve Got Sleeping Issues

Royalty x Knight

Binge Eating

Convincing Them To Get A Pet

Would They Defend You If You Were A Witch

COD Men As Werewolves

COD Characters + Metal Band AU

That Boxing Machine Game Trend

COD Characters + Mythical/Monsters/Weirdos AU

Scaring The COD Men

That Boxing Machine Game Trend Pt. 2

You're Allergic To Pets

COD Men + Victorian Era + Vampires

When They Propose

Yandere!Cod Men x Reader

໒꒱ྀ།Other

Who I would Kiss, Marry, Kill But Make It Interesting

Their Sun Signs

Their MBTI

All other asks that are not requests can be found under the tag #cherie's offerings & sacrifices

⤷Rules⤶

Be nice & kind while you’re visiting my blog or interacting with my posts!! i hold my writings very close to my heart and it’s taken a lot of courage for me to finally share them on the internet

If you’re not happy with something I’ve posted please lmk! I’m always open to criticism (given with the intention of improving)

I don’t have an age restriction on this blog bc I don’t rlly post nsfw stuff but warnings will be added if a post is nsfw, either way y’all monitor your consumption don’t leave blood on my hands

And lastly, this blog is a safe space for all! I post with the intention of sharing what I’ve written for others to read and temporarily distract their minds, if my posts have made you smile or giggle consider following ^^

My inbox is always open if you want to submit requests, talk about books, music, history, art or anything else!

Disclaimer: the paintings/images used in my posts are not intended to depict those who read my writing. I refrain from using physical descriptions of readers in my writing so no one feels as if I am catering only to a selected audience. The imagery is solely for aesthetic purposes, thank you.

[cybiirz]

hello! i really enjoyed your wrio drabble <33 can i request another fluffy and/or suggestive drabble with his grace? thank u so much!

Ahhh omg my first ask!! This honestly somehow motivated me to write something so please feel free to leave any requests that you’d like! But please kindly read the rules first and thank you so very much for asking! <3

ೃ⁀➷ SCENERY

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : As someone who loved scenery and water, you opted to take your friend who you hadn’t seen for 5 years to admire such landscape with you. But even being near water managed to rekindle a fire within the both you.

WC : 1.1K

A/N : Ok so just in case you can’t really get the feeling of the imagery I attempted to create, if you listen to “I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship”by Studio Killers since it gets that playful, kind of banter feeling I tried to make then that’d be great. Honestly this whole thing is just self indulgent and probably very corny but whatever..no seriously it’s acc cheesy but still read pls <3

“Hurry, you’ll miss the best view!” You yelled towards Wriothesley who was following closely behind. Right now, you were running to the sandy parts near the waters of Fontaine as the night sky blanketed the nation.

“I’m only a few steps behind, you’re a slow runner you know?” He retorted from behind you. You looked at him over your shoulder before scoffing in response.

Finally, after a good 30 minutes of going through hoards of hillichurls and abyss mages, the two of you had managed to make it towards the somewhat-beach. Just as you were about to step into the sand, you threw your shoes and socks to the side, before pulling up the pants you wore.

Wriothesley simply stood on the grass, arms crossed as he watched you play around with the small waves that crashed against your ankles. You had a beaming smile on your face as the cool night breeze brushed your face. Realising that Wriothesley wasn’t with you, you turned around and was disappointed at what you saw.

“Seriously? I brought you here to at least have some fun. You look like a strict father watching his kid flirt with another kid or something,” You exaggeratedly mocked his actions before smirking at him. He rolled his eyes before sighing.

“I’m already taking a night off from the Fortress. And doing childish things like this wouldn’t be worth my time,” The warden replied with a tired tone. Your mouth fell open before you strided over to him. Once you were in front of the man, you pulled him down by his tie so that you were now face to face.

“Yeah but you took that night off to spend with me and we haven’t seen each other for 5 years. Do me a favour, and just have fun, for crying out loud,” You groaned to him. After he didn't answer, you scrunch your nose before you went back to the water.

After hearing a deep exhale from him, you soon heard him taking off those hellish boots whilst he pulled up the cuffs of his trousers. Your hand was on your hip as you stood still and watched the ripples in the water before a hand grabbed yours.

“Hey, I’m sorry for being that way,” Wriothesley said almost solemnly before bringing you close to him by dragging your arm. “I’m just getting used to you finally being back,” He added before going quiet. It was silent between the two of you as he stared at you and you to him.

Then, your lips curved up before you laughed. “I knew you’d give in,” You hummed out.

“Woww…I guess I should’ve expected it,” The warden uttered before the two of you chuckled again. But once more, silence befell your pair. Wriothesley’s eyes flickered to your lips as yours did his. But then a much larger wave slammed against you, reaching up to your knees.

“Right, come on I need to show you!” You exclaimed before running deeper into the water. You heard him shout to wait but you ignored it. You guessed that he assumed that the view would be above water but he was sorely mistaken. Clasping your hands together, you took a dive straight in.

Slowly, your eyes opened to see Wriothesley still at the surface. But then he mumbled something along the lines of “For archons sakes…” before he dove in after.

You grabbed his shoulder before swimming around him and coming close to him again. You then pushed off of him and began swimming further down.

He followed closely as you began to swim towards a skull-like structure, almost one of a dragon-like-creature. Once he saw the rays of moon reflecting against it, his head cocked to the right just the slightest. The fish swam in sync as the sea plants danced with the water’s flow.

He turned his head towards you, seeing how you were dazed at the scenery in front of you. It was almost like there was no thought in your head, other than fully absorbing the beauty that stood before you. But it seems he was doing the same, unknown to you.

A very small smile overcame his face just as you turned to him. Your expression beamed as you signalled to him what he thought to which he replied with, “Yeah, it was…gorgeous. Now let me take you somewhere,” As he grabbed your hand before taking off towards the surface.

As you reached above the water, the two of you sprung out and took a deep breath. You then faced him before holding his shoulder with one hand. He then pointed to the sky as your eye followed, only to see the moon reflecting down on you and him. It was so simple but so…eccentric? Majestic? Divine? There was no way to even describe it.

After snapping back to reality, you realised that Wriothesley was looking at you. Not intensely, no. Rather, there was a more relaxed feeling to it. His hand reached up and moved some hair that was stuck to your forehead. The two of you then simply swam there, basking in the scene around you.

His hand gently caressed the back of your neck as your left hand held tightly onto his shoulder. Time felt slow now as you both leaned in. It felt like a millennia before your lips finally landed on one another. And it was like two pieces of a puzzle coming together.

The kiss was slow but there were so very many feelings being poured out into it. Ones of love, desire, longing and hundreds of others but you were too lost to think. Finally you two parted, still keeping your eyes trained on his lips.

Unsure of what to do now, you simply looked up and gave him that same smile as you did back at the beach.

“Archons, I could have that smile stare at me day and night and I'd never get bored,” He murmured. You gagged jokingly at the cheesy line as he chose to just grin. And before you knew it, he desperately dived in for another as he cupped your face in his hands. A kiss, not a swim…

After him getting over that little patch of his, your foreheads slowly joined together as you held each other and bathed in the afterglow of your love finally being confirmed. Being separated for 5 years and coming back certainly managed to relight some old feeling which the both of you thought you had gotten over.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten our shoes back at the shore.” Your shoulders immediately tensed up.

[rapunzel-says-fuck]

Pet Crack Theory

So I had a dumb thought, and while it's not actually what I expect to be true, I think it's both very funny to imagine and not technically outside the realm of possibility. Hear me out.

Alastor's deal was made with Lucifer himself.

My first thoughts upon seeing Dad Beat Dad had been that perhaps Alastor and Lilith were on friendly terms, given the seven year correlation and him generally getting along better with high society women and such, and maybe the immediate animosity toward Lucifer was a "it's her shitty ex" thing? After the finale, though, that seems far less likely. But the fact remains that...

He is seething from literally the moment Lucifer arrives, escalates to his first true swear of the whole series so quickly. He is so utterly repulsed by this man he shakes his cane instead of his hand and still wipes his own hand after.

There's some possibility he just hates anyone definitively stronger than him, and still some chance the animosity is in some way related to Lilith or Eve or Roo or whatever! But it still feels very personal, whatever it is.

What if... What if...

All these parts where he makes it exceedingly clear he's doing this to piss off Lucifer, and basically daring him to do something about it?

What if some part of the deal plays into Alastor's need to assist Charlie and keep her safe, to a point of the "I can't have that here" when sending Mimzy away, whatever the precise details of that may be. But in exchange, he's promised protection from Lucifer. (Possibly others? But at least him.)

Given how clear the finale made it that freedom is such a priority-- AND given that Alastor's "leash" was first revealed in this same episode, right after this, with Lucifer just down the hall even-- what if he's basically daring Lucifer to act against him because that would break their deal?

ALL I'm saying is like... "Evil" (possibly /"the Root of Evil"/"Roo" if those aren't split into two things) seems to be her own character, but there's a distinct connection between the roots and the apple, and there's all Alastor's root-like imagery when he lets out more of his power. (Hell, deer antlers kind of look like branches, which on its own would be nothing but as a "bonus point", especially the way Alastor's grow as he powers up? Sure.)

I'll admit this isn't the most narratively interesting option, and for that reason I do expect it to go a different way. I'm not trying to convince you it's happening, just that it "could" work?

"But wait," you say. "This is all well and good, but wouldn't Lucifer have had any reaction?"

Ahhh, but you see... This is my favorite part of this "theory".

Consider...

He fucking forgot. 😌