#deep down on the divinity that makes Dream this is what he was made for

[rat-rosemary]

If any animal were to ask Dream he would say that he has no favorites.

I, however, God of this world, do, and Dream was raised by rabbit gods, so he does think and default to a rabbit on a lot of things

He calls Tommy and Wilbur weasels because of the weasel war dance and how they always seem to be able to get in close to bite him again

[areislol]

being transported into their world

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! girls in the astral express are mentioned for a bit, i mentioned both dan heng and imbibitor lunae so don't mind that! mentions of self attempt/bodily harm for blade, boothill is ooc probably, spoilers of penacony quest, skipping herta space station (will be mentioned in other chapters though!), sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i've been thinking about a self-aware au but a honkai star rail version for a couple of weeks now after my reverse isekai'd genshin sagau series. also this may be a bit biased towards dang feng (imbibitor lunae) because uh i like him, maybe you can tell?

►— wordcount. 4.5k

part 2

for days they've felt uncomfortable, well, slightly. it only began to happen a couple of months ago when they felt as if something, no... someone was controlling their every movement and choice.

during their adventures, they felt an unsettling sensation creep upon them like a shadow in the night—a feeling of being watched, of a presence looming over their every move.

the presence was overwhelming, their body would stiffen, and they felt as if something like a heavy, invisible blanket was casted upon them.

at first, the passengers in the astral express dismissed it as mere paranoia, attributing it to the heightened tension of their journey or maybe the warping effects in the train. but as days passed and the sensation persisted, they couldn't shake off the unnerving feeling that they were not alone, that someone or something was observing their every action.

at times, they would catch fleeting whispers carried by the wind, faint voices that echoed in the corners of their minds. yet, despite their efforts, they could never make out the words, the words slipping through their grasp like elusive dreams.

as the feeling grew more pronounced, thoughts began to gnaw at their consciousness. who or what could possibly be speaking to them? why is it that every now and then they would feel a sudden boost and surge of power?

they knew deep down that the only being in the universe could make them feel that was,it could be no other than their creator.

the mere thought that their creator was dropping hints of their arrival was exciting. and only when the astral express crew noticed how each and every one of them felt the same exact things—looking around the moment they heard a voice, their body in sync as they tensed up... it was all too coincidental not to notice.

as they talked with one another and pieced the puzzle pieces together, using the information they found along the way travelling to each region, it all became clear.

it was a pivotal moment in their journey, the truth was revealed. in a flash of realization, they discovered that the presence they felt, the elusive voice they heard, was none other than their creator—the architect of their existence, the mastermind behind their trials and tribulations.

dan heng, himeko, welt, march and caelus had a hunch that it was their beloved creator, it couldn't be anyone else. everything added up, everything made sense. they acted like mad scientists, scurrying to their rooms and digging around every nook and cranny of their room, finding any evidence and papers that mentioned you, the creator.

as they all met up back on the train they carefully placed each and every newspaper and article about you. they had to make sure that it was really you. some of the articles that dan heng bought were from way back, thousands of years ago, he refused to tell anyone where he had gotten them from.

"in the vast expanse of the universe, where time flowed like a meandering river and galaxies danced in an eternal cosmic ballet, there existed a being unlike any other—a being known simply as a creator. born out of the primordial chaos, the creator was a solitary entity who traversed the endless void, seeking purpose in a universe devoid of meaning.

for millennia, the creator roamed the expanse, witnessing the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, and the ebb and flow of cosmic energies. yet, amidst the vastness of space and time, the creator found itself consumed by an overwhelming sense of ennui, a profound boredom that gnawed at their very essence.

then, the creator embarked on a journey of creation—a quest to fill the void with worlds of its own design, to sculpt realities from the raw clay of the cosmos. with a mere thought, the creator breathed life into barren planets, adorned them with oceans and mountains, and populated them with a myriad of creatures both strange and wondrous.

as creator delved deeper into their newfound passion, they discovered a love for the act of creation—a love that transcended time and space, a passion that ignited a fire within its soul. with each world it fashioned, each story it crafted, the creator found solace in the act of shaping reality, in the sheer joy of bringing something new into existence.

for six thousand years, the creator laboured tirelessly, weaving tapestries of worlds and galaxies, each one a testament to its boundless imagination and creative prowess. from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest empires, the creator poured their heart and soul into every facet of creation, infusing each world with a unique charm and character all its own.

yet, amidst the infinite expanse of its creations, the creator remained a solitary figure—a godlike being adrift in a sea of its own making, forever yearning for companionship in a universe devoid of peers. and so, the creator continued their eternal quest, weaving worlds out of boredom and growing a love and passion for creation that would endure for eternity. and we, this universe, was crafted by none other than the creator, the place we call home. it is said that only after six thousand will the creator return to us, to watch over us once more."

the article itself looked worn, it wasn't signed by anyone, and no one knew who wrote it, or how they got the information. but it seemed plausible. millenniums... it has been well over six thousand years, it was about time the creator descended.

they had to be prepared, they had to tell the rest of their friends and families, the world. as much as they would like to keep the information to themselves they knew that you deserved a much better, bigger and more beautiful welcome.

sampo, gepard and luka were more than stunned and nervous, to say the least. their creator... was finally returning back? upon hearing the news from caelus they were sceptical at first, deep down they really wanted to see you in your glory, to finally meet the creator, but at the same time, it was nerve-wracking.

what should they say? what should they do in preparation and celebration? what gifts and offers should they give to you? nothing would do. they were positive that anything they bought, even if it got them in debt, would suffice. you deserved more than a measly couple of dishes and the most delicate and fitting garnets.

it was embarrassing really, their hearts racing as they tried their best to think of what to bring to your feet. but one thing they all had in common was their loyalty to you. if it was their life you wanted then so be it.

sampo is sampo, he was sure that his creator's glory and attractiveness were over the top, he would be sure to compliment you as many times as his mouth could allow, but he was sure that your beauty would be intimidating. no matter your looks your presence was more than enough.

gepard is nervous. his mind is full of "what ifs" and "what should i.." not even his sister can calm him down. every morning and night when he closes his eyes he's anticipating the day his sister barges into his room, yelling that the creator had finally descended. although he isn't quite sure of what to offer you he knows that whenever you need him, whatever you call him for he will be there in less than a minute, by your side or feet if you prefer.

whatever you ask of him, whatever favour you need from, he will never say no.

luka on the other hand is absolutely pumped to meet you! he had heard stories of you when he was a child, and from the stories told by the adults they described you as a kind being, who soon fell in love with the art, beauty and joy of creating. well, their most favourite was creating worlds.

he was absolutely sure that you would be the most kindest, heavenly person he had ever met, what was there to worry about now? luka knew that if he ever laid eyes on you he would fall in love no doubt, he would do anything for you. maybe you would agree to watch his wrestling matches?

jing yuan, blade, imbibitor lunae, and luocha are the most excited of all, sure, everyone is elated to finally meet you with their very own eyes. but them? oh lord... they all believe to be your worshipper, having heard tales of you from their parents, this alone caused them to be awe and love-struck with you.

they were a firm believer in you, you did no wrong in their eyes. all your actions and words were justified. they followed your principles, they made sure to announce their presence every time they came to your altar and placed down the most expensive jewels, dishes and gifts. (they had a shrine of you at home don't worry)

jing yuan was the one of the firsts to get hints that you were finally returning, the divine foresight fu xuan always looked so weary and cautious, but as time grew she began to be more... happy and elated, yet everytime he questioned her she was tense up and smile like it was nothing. and only when he pried did she say that she saw things, saw a blurred face, and heard a voice. "don't be alarmed... i'm here to tell you that.."

he made sure that everyone who worked under him and every prominent person knew of this, he began to make preparations of your arrival, he cancelled all meetings and plans, only focusing on you and your arrival. everything had to be perfect. he had even forgotten about the wanted criminal blade. jing yuan booked the most fanciest restaurant for a month max, he wasn't sure when you were coming, of course, so a month it was.

jing yuan prepared every entertainment and paid the orchestra, he wanted everything to be perfect, even the most minuscule details.

blade's loyalty was and is only for you and only you. he may be cold and stone-hearted (we all know it's false) but if it's you... whatever you ask for he will do it no doubt. he refuses to take orders from a stranger even if it is his friend, but if it's you? say no more. blade knew you were a kind soul, you needed protection from the other so-called "enemies" (he proclaimed it!).

he swore that you saved his life, years ago when everything was tumbling down, when his feelings got the better of him, he tried doing the unthinkable, as he blacked out he suddenly "saw" something.. a beacon of light, it was magical and airy, he tried his best to grasp onto the light but obviously could not.

it floated further and further away, and he followed it, his eyes glued only on the beacon of light. as it stopped moving, so did he, he continued staring at the light as it shrank into a ball, it didn't speak, it didn't look anywhere, it stayed there. suddenly he woke up, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. what was that?

sweat clung to his forehead when jingliu found him, concerned she rushed over to him, he refused to say a single word. he was left perplexed. what was the ball of light? why did he feel so at ease? why did it only appear after he...

he would make it his mission to meet you before the rest do other than the astral express crew and become your bodyguard, even if you deny his offer he will stick with you no matter what. of course, he would respect your boundaries but he knew that you didn't have the heart to deny anyone, especially your creation.

imbibitor lunae absolutely adores you, even if he was reincarnated the memories still pass on. and the tales being told by the grown-ups were famous around his area and still is. from the earliest days of his existence, tales of the creator had woven themselves into the fabric of his consciousness, painting a portrait of a being of boundless kindness and infinite compassion.

as a child, imbibitor lunae had listened with rapt attention to stories passed down through generations, tales of the creator's benevolence and the miracles they wrought upon the world. and in the quiet moments of the night, he would gaze up at the starry expanse above, whispering prayers to the creator, his heart overflowing with admiration and reverence.

when news of the creator's imminent return after six thousand years reached his ears, his heart soared with unbridled joy. in no time he set about preparing for your arrival, pouring his heart and soul into crafting the perfect gifts to present to his divine benefactor.

drawing inspiration from the tales of old, he fashioned intricate trinkets and tokens of his affection, each one imbued with his unwavering devotion and love. amidst the swirling maelstrom of feelings, one thing remained constant: his unwavering love for the creator.

imbibitor swore that once he felt or sensed a sign that would be arriving he would immediately act, he would be the first to meet and lay his eyes on your divine figure. slap him as many times as you want if you found it rude, he would only thank you.

luocha, despite remaining calm and composed on the outside, internally, he was freaking OUT. luocha found himself grappling with a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions. on one hand, he felt a profound sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting the creator, the architect of his existence and the source of all that he held dear.

yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of inadequacy, the fear of not being able to live up to your expectations.

his mind raced with a flurry of possibilities. what gifts would you appreciate? what could he offer to express his gratitude and reverence for the being who had breathed life into his world? with each passing moment, the weight of the impending meeting pressed down upon him like a heavy burden, filling him with a sense of anxiety.

despite his inner turmoil, luocha maintained a facade of calm and composure, determined not to let his anxieties show. with a steely resolve, he set about meticulously planning and preparing for your arrival, carefully considering every detail in his quest to find the perfect gift.

he even resorted to asking the children about what gifts he should bring, and yes, they did laugh at him but helped him nonetheless.

from ornate trinkets to rare treasures, luocha spared no effort in his search for the ideal offering, pouring his heart and soul into each carefully chosen item. yet, even as he laboured tirelessly to ensure that everything was perfect, doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, although one thing was for sure, if you didn't like any of his gifts he wouldn't be upset rather, maybe all you wanted was his whole body and life, and he would not hesitant once to give it up for you.

they all couldn't wait to meet you.

aventurine, sunday, gallagher and boothill are freaking out. horribly. mainly aventurine.. once the news had reached them from the astral express that it was possible (about 98%) that you were the comet arriving in a week... oh boy were they NERVOUS. everything HAD to be perfect. they had everything to thank you for, during their life and death situation they were lucky enough to survive—thanks to you.

it was only natural to return the favour, you created them, their personality, their arms, legs, their body, you sculpted their face, you made them. you made the very world they live in right now, the world they call home... they were sure you were by their side, making them make the right decisions and the right thing. aventurine? oh, the amount of MONEY he will spend buying everything he thinks you'd like, the fanciest, most elegant and most expensive shoes, clothing and accessories. he would rent out an entire week or months of work at a restaurant if you'd like to dine alone or with a couple of people. he knows his luck is a part of him, he can only pray that he'll meet you first with his luck.

sunday... just the sound of your name makes him tear up. he could've sworn that one time you spoke to him, your other-worldly echoing voice speaking to him directly about the loss of his dear sister. and here he stood in his room, looking out the window, and in the far distant a light shimmering as it swiftly dived down. a shooting star. he knows that with everyone getting the news they're all aiming to be the first to meet you, and trust me, he does want to meet you FIRST. the second you land he'll be there right with you and guiding you to safety—penacony.

but first, he must pinpoint where exactly you'll land. and with his power and influence he will most definitely try his best to find you and be sure to hide you from everyone else... he needs you, desperately.

gallagher and boothill have exactly the same thoughts. to present themselves good to you and spend every minute and second with you. but with everyone gossiping and spreading rumours about your arrival it's hard to be unique. everyone wants to be with you, everyone wants your favour. but they could never worship you as much as them. they had dreamed of this moment, it seemed unreal to meet their own creator but nonetheless, they clung to their hope and boy did it not go to waste.

boothill basically pauses any mission he needs to complete, that can wait. you are eternal. he's practically on edge with the fact that at any moment the comet would crash through and there you'd be, dozing peacefully.. like an angel. he won't hesitate to cause some trouble or initiate some violence if it means that they don't get to see you first.

gallagher on the other hand tries to stay hidden and in the shadows. of course, he'd like to meet you face to face but with the feeling of an overwhelming and looming divine presence, it's all too much. and if that's too much then what would he feel when you stand right before him? he's like an overprotective dog, fiercely loyal and clingy. even if you can't spot him he'll be right there, lurking and watching.

dr. ratio and argenti are absolutely and 100% loyal and would do EVERYTHING in their power to meet you, even a glance would do, anything to feed their curiosity and desperate need to know the creator. so when they get wind that you were supposedly descending down... they freeze on the spot, their breath hitches as their eyes widen. could it really be?

dr. ratio was always a curious boy, and he has you to thank for giving him consciousness and the opportunities to venture out and earn knowledge and eventually spreading his knowledge to his students (preaching i guess you can say). he's a bit biased when it comes to talking about you to his friends or students, and speaking your name in a more positive light, not that anyone minds, if anything they agree!

although he isn't much of a gifter or "i'll spend my money on you" he's more of a "anything you want just tell me". if you told him to drop his precious books to come and tend to your needs he would do it in a heartbeat.

to argenti you are the standard and epitome of "beauty". the beauty he has been searching for his entire life. he intends to shower you with compliments and roses freshly picked by hand unless you're allergic or not a fan of flowers, fear not! compliments should do! be ready to be bombarded with such positivity, compliments and gifts from the knight of beauty.

anything you wish for he will try his utmost best to get it done perfectly and quickly. "your hair looks so pretty like this..." say no more, he will always style it and keep it exactly like that! "my feet feel so sore from all the walking" ?!!? why is his dear walking anyway!?!? don't worry, he'll massage it for you! "ugh all this work is making me tired" move aside, let him do the honours!!

It was a long ride home from work, you were currently in an almost empty bus, glancing over the top of your phone you read the time. 11 P.M.

Was it that late already? You knew this office job would be the death of you. You never wanted to work at a place like this, the cubicle life bored you and it was just so... depressing. That was the only way to describe it.

You decide to pass the time by playing your all-time favourite game: Honkai: Star Rail. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your face as you began to grind relics and exp for an upcoming character. It definitely worked in keeping you busy and awake as time passed by slowly.

All was well, everything was fine. You had everything planned in your head. Get home as soon as possible, take a nice warm and rejuvenating shower, get five hours of sleep, go back to work and repeat.

The more you thought about your daily routine the more you realised how depressing it was, but what could you do? That job was the only one that was hiring and had average pay and things like that are rare, especially when you decided to live in the city which was your first mistake.

You were barely getting by in the city, the crime rate increased, there were more breaks in, pickpocketing and murder. But despite all of that you decided to rent an apartment where it was less populated, the rent in the heart of the city was way too high.

Pushing all those thoughts and information aside you let out a defeated sigh, leaning your head on the window as you continued to tap away on your phone.

If only life went just a little bit easier on you.

Everything was fine. The silence was comfortable and the low, soft rumble of the engine kept you awake, until a loud deafening crash jolted the bus, sending people flying and falling onto the ground.

Letting out a scream you grabbed onto whatever you could to keep you steady—the head of the chair in front of you. Although it didn't do a good job of keeping you still you couldn't care less, because as you lifted your head, your eyes caught something massive charging straight at you, and before you could react, a blinding light engulfed you, followed by an eerie silence.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself tightly packed against something dark and rocky. Just great! Something had happened to the bus and knocked you out.

You looked around, it was pure blackness, like a void. Maybe this was what happened after death... Out of all things and especially the time too!

Feeling confused and scared you try to move your body to shift into a more comfortable position but due to the lack of space, you could barely even move an inch.

Suddenly, a crack was heard. And you froze.

Then another crack, and another, the darkness began to crack and splinter and not long after half of the egg-shaped looking ball broke in half as it fell to the side.

Shards of obsidian-like material fractured and scattered around. A large amount of dust, and shiny glitter-like specs flew everywhere, it was extremely dusty.

Unfortunately, you inhaled the smoke, coughing and sputtering, you waved their hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the particles as you squinted against the harsh light that slipped through the smoke.

As the dust settled and the steam dissipated, your surroundings gradually came into focus. You found yourself in front of... one, two, three, four, and... five.... wait.. what?

Right before you stood four male figures (with the other seemed to have a more feminine build), male figures that looked awfully familiar to you for some odd reason, just why was that?

You were confused and curious as you surveyed your surroundings, realizing that maybe this was death? You would've never guessed that "life" after death would look like this. It was very.... interesting.

The buildings that surrounded you were intricate and otherworldly. Dazzling celestial landscapes and luminescent structures piqued your interest as you slowly and carefully stepped out of what you assumed was a shell.

Its' architect and infrastructure reminded you of something, it seemed nostalgic—as if you've seen this exact building before. The more you observed and watched, your eyes tracing every precise curve and detail of the buildings your heart began to pick up its pace.

Your eyes searched every corner and inch, and finally, it landed back on the five figures you had spotted before and it wasn't until you caught sight of familiar faces that you were certain that you had to be hallucinating somehow after death.

There, standing in a circle, were figures that you could hardly believe were real: Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya. It was unmistakably them.

Their presence, their unmistakable aura of reverence, left you no doubt.

They watched you, their gazes filled with awe and admiration as if you were the embodiment of some long-awaited prophecy (and in this case, it was).

You were in disbelief. Disbelief that you had somehow been transported into the very game they were playing moments ago, but now they were tangible, real.

It was a long silence, it was both comfortable and uncomfortable with their longing gaze. You remained still as you checked around your surroundings once again before settling your eyes back on the group of people.

At your gaze they felt a shiver down their spine, and the hair on their skin stood up.

"W—Who are you guys?!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes to see if it was truly the characters from the game you adored.

Dan Heng's breath hitched at the sound of your booming voice, your voice... it was just like how they described what you would sound like in the carved stones and ancient scrolls.

The more he stared at you the more he wanted to come to you, to kneel down at your feet and profess how long he has been waiting for this moment.

With his eyes trained on your figure, he steps closer, Gepard notices and swiftly stops him from moving any further with his arm. Dan Heng looks to his side, confusion strewn on his face.

Not a single word was spoken yet with a stern gaze and the shake of a head, Dan Heng understood. Now was not the right time.

Minutes passed by in complete and utter silence, it unnerved you. Why were they so quiet? So watchful?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the silence was broken just with a couple words.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Your Gracefulness."

note: after 5 months WOW. i've been so busy with things i haven't had the time to really sit down and work. I'm so sorry everyone!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassup @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seed

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

for those i've taged: if you do not want to tagged for hsr drop a comment or message me.

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[lyvhie]

forgive me, father | lmk

priest!mark x fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: it was really difficult to finally corrupt your favorite priest.

a/n: just a short one i wrote at the subway on my way to college while i try to finish other fics 😔

cw: smut, religious themes, virgin!mark 😝, unprotected sex (i always forget), pet names, read part 2 here.

mark dedicated himself to a life of righteous servitude to the will of god. it was his mission to fight against the darkness and corruption that threatened to consume his world, an obligation to save those who could not save themselves. everything he had done, every choice he made, was done in the belief that it was god's will.

yet all that came crashing down, when you arrived. the one person who could disrupt his entire mission, undoing everything he had worked for, making his service to god seem meaningless.

when you first stepped foot into the church, mark's eyes were on you, but not much thought was given beyond a passing glance. you were merely an unfamiliar face among many. yet, as the days passed, he found himself drawn by the way you looked at him.

he felt your eyes on him, and found your gaze almost stripping him of his usual composure, as if you could see through all his facades. he could sense the desire in your gaze, and it made him feel both exposed and strangely captivated.

but it was fine. mark was no stranger to the attention that came with being a young priest. people were often impressed by his dedication to his role, yet quick to comment that it was a shame for someone as attractive as him to be bound by the church.

things took a turn for the complicated when you started coming to the confession booth with your sins in tow, seeking god's forgiveness. you made it a habit to request a session in the confessional after every mass, claiming to have sinned and in need of forgiveness.

on the surface, it seemed like a normal part of his duties as a priest, but he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that your visits were not entirely about atonement.

mark's suspicions were confirmed when your confession took a darker turn. you claimed that the devil himself was visiting you in your dreams, taking the form of him and engaging in the most sinful and perverse acts imaginable.

mark was momentarily speechless, struck by the detailed and explicit nature of your dreams. the fact that you spoke so blatantly and without shame about your experiences left him reeling, as if there was a hint of pleasure beneath the surface of your innocent confession. though he couldn't see your face, he could detect a sense of enjoyment in your voice, making him question if you were truly seeking absolution.

he tried to keep a stoic and neutral demeanor throughout your sessions, recognizing that it was his duty as a priest to listen to your worries and absolve you of your sins. yet, deep down, he couldn't deny the effect your words were having on him. the vivid descriptions and your lack of shame stirred something within him, tempting him to let go of his priestly restraint.

mark found it increasingly difficult to maintain his focus during the mass with your glances and suggestive actions. the way you would look at him, biting your lip, wearing clothes that teetered on the edge of propriety, it all made it nearly impossible for him to concentrate on his duties as a divine messenger.

“father…” mark's ears caught the sound of your sweet and coy voice as you approached him after the end of the sacrade. "it happened again," you said, asking for the chance to confess your sins once more.

his only answer was a gentle smile as he guided you to the confessional booth. despite his best efforts to maintain composure, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of what you might confess this time.

“forgive me, father, for i have sinned,” mark braced himself as he heard your familiar start, already tensing in anticipation of what was to come. “it has been a day since my last confession, and despite your absolution, god still seems to be testing me."

“i see," he said quietly, his voice a bit tighter. "and how exactly did you give into the temptation?”

your voice came through in a sigh, and despite your seemingly disappointed tone, mark could detect the deception beneath it. "our last encounter was even better than everything else we had until now," you confessed. "as usual, he climbed into my bed and lay with me, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as his hands roamed my body, touching me with so much sweetness. despite my pleas to god for wisdom, i find myself unable to resist him.”

and so the confession proceeded just as he expected. you told him how the devil, disguised as him, played with all the sweet spots on your body, bringing you to ecstasy countless times to the point where you forgot your own name or at least thought about how what you were doing was wrong, making you crave for more and more. you told him about how frustrating it was for you to have to wake up and realize it was a dream and be forced to satisfy your needs by yourself.

as your words filled the confessional, mark desperately sought to distract his mind. he silently recited the entire lord's prayer, clenching his fists beneath his cassock in an attempt to control the aching erection that strained against his clothing.

mark's heart leaped in his chest as he snapped out of his thoughts, only to find you beginning to conclude your confession. "that's why, father..." you said, your tone suddenly taking a different turn. "after conversing with god, i’ve come to understand that the only way to free myself from these torments is to utterly surrender to these desires.”

“w… what do you mean by that?" confusion etched on his face, he wasn't sure where this was leading.

“i realized that my confessions are doing nothing to help me stop sinning," you sigh. "although your words of comfort ease my heart, it's not enough. what i truly need... is you, mark.”

mark's breath hitched in his throat as your words reached his ears, the way you said his name sent shivers down his spine. he wasn't fool; he understood the implications of what you were saying, and this froze him for a moment as he pondered his response.

it's not that he wasn't used to this kind of approach, but the problem is that it was completely straightforward and came from you. he would be lying if he said he didn't feel some level of attraction towards you.

mark silently thanked god that the confessional booth was separated by a wooden wall, shielding you from the sight of his flushed face. his heart pounded in his chest as he realized the effect your words and presence were having on him. it scared him how easily you could make his emotions spiral out of control, awakening desires he never thought he would feel for a congregant.

mark swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before he began to speak gently. “listen,” he said, his voice composed yet filled with compassion. “while i sympathize with your situation, you must understand that i have duties as a servant of god that prevent me from indulging in acts that go against my beliefs.”

he took a moment to gather his thoughts, contemplating the difficult position he was in. "not only that," he continued. "but there are the obligations of my chastity vows. all i can offer you is my daily prayers, in the hope that god will save your soul."

after his words, an eerie silence filled the confessional booth. mark was consumed with worry, wondering if his response had been too blunt, perhaps even hurtful. maybe he inadvertently made you feel desperate with his refusal to support you in such a hard moment.

he tried to call your name in an attempt to soothe you, but before he could even process what was happening, the door to his side of the confessional booth suddenly swung open, and there you were, stepping into the cramped space. the small confines of the booth made it impossible for the both of you to maintain any distance, your bodies pressed closely together.

in the dim light, mark could make out your face, and it was evident that you were far from happy. annoyed, frustrated, or even angry — whichever it was, it was the first time he had seen such a look on your face. it was a stark contrast from the usual coy or sultry expressions you usually wore.

mark's heart skipped a beat as you spoke, your voice taking on a lower tone. "you know, i’m tired of this game," you said, locking eyes with him.

he swallowed hard, feeling his lips suddenly go dry. "what do you mean?" he managed to ask, his voice trembling slightly.

your voice was sharp, laced with annoyance, as you spoke. "you know damn well what i’m talking about," you continued, your eyes narrowing. "every day, i come here, saying all this nonsense about the devil to share my fantasies with you, and yet here we are, with you still acting like some pure little priest instead of fucking me.”

mark's eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening and closing a few times, struggling to find the right words to respond.

when he finally found his voice, he began hesitantly, "i... i can't, you know i can't. i'm a priest, and i have—"

you cut him off, scoffing and rolling your eyes. "cut the bullshit," you said firmly. "you can't, but you want it. i see the way you look at me, father. it's the same eyes i give you, so don't even bother lying."

mark flinched slightly at your words, feeling a pang of guilt at being seen through so easily. he couldn't deny it. he knew he was having a hard time concealing his true feelings.

mark swallowed hard, his voice quivering slightly as he attempted to deny your accusation. "i do not..." he started, his words faltering. but before he could finish, you leaned even closer, your faces mere centimeters apart. he could feel the heat radiating from your skin, the scent of your perfume filling his senses.

mark couldn't help but follow your gaze as your eyes wandered down to his lips, and he felt an undeniable magnetic pull drawing his attention to your own lips. almost involuntarily, his eyes fixated on them, noticing the subtle wetness left by your sultry tongue. the small confines of the booth made it impossible to ignore the growing tension between you.

"i'll kiss you.”

mark's eyes widened in shock as you announced and, before he could protest, your lips were already on his, pressing against them with a force that left him dumbfounded. the action was so unexpected, so brazen, that he couldn't find it within himself to pull away.

and honestly, he didn't even know if he wanted to.

your gentle touch on his chin was like a command, and he found himself parting his lips to allow your tongue access. a guttural sound escaped his throat, equal parts surprise and pleasure. in a moment of weakness or perhaps surrender, he gave in to the intoxicating kiss, his tongue greedily responding to yours. the taste of your lips and the heat of your tongue sent shivers down his spine, awakening a hunger within him that he had locked away for so long.

mark's hand instinctively found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as the cramped space around you seemed to grow hotter with each passing moment. his heart pounded loudly in his chest, the rapid rhythm almost resonating in his head. a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts filled his mind — how wrong it was, how he was throwing away everything he had defended as a priest.

with effort that felt as if he was fighting against his own nature, mark managed to summon enough strength to break the kiss and pull away from you. both of you were left breathless, struggling to regain your composure as a thin line of saliva connected your mouths. his eyes were clouded with a mixture of desire and conflict, torn between duty and yearning.

"ah, finally," you sighed, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "i’ve been waiting for this so long, you have no idea."

mark felt the words nearly escape his own lips, a silent 'me too' trapped in his throat. but he clenched his jaw, his voice sounding harsher than he meant as he responded, "don't do this again."

your frown deepened as you heard his response, your earlier enthusiasm now replaced by confusion and disappointment. "what?" you asked, your voice laced with disbelief.

mark shook his head as he struggled to hold onto his convictions. "this is just... not right," he repeated, his voice filled with guilt. "that was a mistake."

"are you really going to insist on this?" you repeated, your voice gentler now, as you leaned forward to plant a few gentle pecks on his lips.

but mark's response was a feeble protest, a whispered "stop." he tried to resist, turning his head to evade your kisses, but you pursued him relentlessly, and he couldn't help but reciprocate for a brief moment before pulling back again to avoid your advances.

“stop,” he spoke more firmly this time, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he held you in place. "please," he said, his voice tinged with guilt and resolve. "let's not... just stop,” he then let out a deep sigh. “i will forget what just happened here," he continued. "so about your dreams... i'll keep praying for god to help you, and you should do the same."

you clicked your tongue, the sound cutting through the tense atmosphere, your eyes narrowing as you both engaged in a silent exchange. mark felt the weight of guilt heavy on his shoulders, he knew deep down that he could not give in to your desires, no matter how much he wanted to.

a sense of resignation washed over you as you recognized the firmness in mark's voice and accepted that he would not be swayed this time. you let out an annoyed huff and pushed his hands away from your shoulders.

"fine," you muttered, irritation evident in your tone. “thank you for the special session, father." with that, you briskly stepped out of the confessional, leaving him behind.

as your footsteps echoed away and the church fell into a heavy silence, mark emerged from the confessional, his legs feeling weak and shaky. he leaned against one of the wooden pews, desperate for support as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to regain his composure and calm his trembling body.

mark exhaled slowly, he knew he had barely dodged temptation, but the memory of your lips against his still lingered in his mind. with a solemn expression, he made his way to the dressing room, preparing for the long night ahead, knowing he would need to spend hours in prayer and reflection, seeking forgiveness and strength to resist to you.

he sank down onto the couch and buried his face in his hands, his cassock now neatly folded on top of the small coffee table. as he sat in silence, he couldn't help but acknowledge the physical evidence of his encounter with you. his pants were now uncomfortably tight, and he knew he would have to deal with it his own way when he got home.

despite the image he portrayed as a devout priest, mark was not immune to human desires and weaknesses. he had occasionally fantasized about moments like this with you too, allowing himself to acknowledge the human emotions and needs that existed within him.

but the pull of priesthood was strong, and he quickly cast away these conflicted thoughts, replacing them with fervorous prayers, seeking forgiveness for even considering any form of deviance from his sacred path.

however, this time, after finally having tasted just a little bit of you, he wasn't so sure he was strong enough to not give in to temptation, especially after finding out that your confessions were just a way to get his attention — which certainly worked.

mark's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a series of knocks on the door, causing him to raise his eyebrows in slight confusion. he tried to recall if he had any scheduled meetings or visits from believers that night, but nothing came to mind.

with a mixture of curiosity and concern, mark made his way to the door, his mind racing with thoughts about who could be seeking him at such a late hour. he hoped that no one had witnessed or heard the intimate encounter he had shared with you in the confessional, silently praying that he would not have to deal with any unwanted questions or accusations.

“father, it's me.”

mark's worries subsided a bit as he heard your voice on the other side of the door. although he wasn't necessarily eager to see you at that particular moment, it was preferable to encountering anyone else.

but soon he got tense again. you saw each other not long ago and the goodbye wasn't really one of the friendliest you've ever had, so what exactly brought you here?

he reached out to open the door and, once again, before he could even form any words, you grabbed his face and roughly pulled him against your lips, kissing him with such a hunger that left him breathless.

despite the initial shock, mark found himself responding to your kiss with equal fervor, his hands instinctively resting on your hips as you pushed him backwards onto the couch. the unexpected turn of events left him disoriented, but the growing desire coursing through his body overshadowed any rational thoughts.

mark couldn't help but let out a soft moan as you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him with your legs on either side of his body. you pulled back a little to look at him, seeing how out of breath he was made you laugh.

“looks like someone was waiting for this, hm?” you asked as you moved a hand down to caress his bulge over his clothes, making him inhale sharply at the sensation.

mark wasn't thinking about god or sin anymore, now he was just thinking with his dick, barely able to hide how happy he was that you came back as he nodded at your question, his eyes clouded with need.

mark knew that resisting you any further was like trying to swim against a strong current – a futile endeavor. his gaze, now fixed on you, silently pleaded with you to do something about the aching need that had taken hold of him. he no longer wanted to deny the burning desire that danced within him, even if regret would come later.

and you definitely understood that, his big, sparkling eyes told you everything you needed to know, and a smile appeared on your lips. you leaned in to kiss his neck, and then whisper in his ear.

“i’ll be your first, right?” your whisper sending shivers down his spine. “yes,” he said shyly, feeling his ears getting hot. seeming satisfied, you chuckled, tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of your tongue “you know, i thought about a lot of ways to make you cum.”

talking dirty to him was one of the options? because it was working already.

"but as much as i want to play with you," you continued, your hands quickly finding their way to his pants, skillfully unbuttoning them and pulling it down with his help. mark sighed in relief as his dick finally managed to breathe, standing proudly as droplets of precum ran from the tip to the base. "i also really need you so desperately and i've waited for so long, so let's do it quickly.”

mark nodded fiercely, his heart was beating so loud that he was sure you could hear it. he couldn't hold back his moan when you wrapped a hand around his hard cock and stroke it a few times. it was much more better than do it by himself, honestly.

he was holding his breath in anticipation, as he saw you popping up a little to align his cock with your pussy, gasping when he felt you tease yourself with the tip, brushing against your slick folds.

you hadn't been exaggerating when you mentioned your sense of urgency earlier. your choice of outfit for the day was a deliberate one, a thin dress without any panties beneath, specifically selected to make things convenient.

you wanted to tease him more, but your own sense of urgency only allowed you to slowly sink down, you were so wet that he slipped in easily. a guttural sound came from the back of his throat as he felt your gummy walls enveloping him in a warm embrace.

"oh, god," he breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back. he could swear heaven looked exactly like what he was feeling right now.

all the times he had jerked off thinking about you, about what it would be like to be in a moment like this, nothing compared to the actual feeling of being balls deep inside you.

and you were no better than him, all the wait was worth it. your face was buried on his neck as you savored the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix.

his hands tightened their grip on your hips, holding you firmly in place. his chest rose and fell with each shallow, quickened breath, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch the playful laugh that escaped your lips.

"feel that good?" you asked, a hint of mischief in your tone.

as you spoke, mark looked up to meet your gaze, his face now flush with a deep blush from embarrassment and pleasure apparent. “yes,” his voice barely a whisper. “it feels amazing. fuck, it does.”

a slightly arrogant smile took over your face as you heard his admission, it was a wonderful delight to know that you were the one making him feel this way without even having started the real thing.

"then, i'll make you feel even better," you pecked his lips before placing your hands on his shoulders and start to move.

now this was driving him crazy — more than it already was. he couldn't quite put into words, but the way he kept rubbing your inner walls, the way you occasionally clenched around him, the way his name rolled off your tongue in a sweet moan, everything was from another world.

mark wasn’t quite sure what to do other than let you take the lead, but his body moved on its own as he began thrusting his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

his moans and whimpers grew louder as he felt his climax building up, it usually wasn't this quick when he did it himself, but he couldn't hold back when he had your pussy gripping him like that.

he managed to call your name softly, “i-i’m gonna cum,” he warned, beads of sweat running down his forehead. “mhm, i know,” your voice slightly husky. “since it’s your first time, i’ll let you enjoy it until the end,” you continued, “you can cum inside me, sweetie.”

his eyes widened at your words, but he wouldn't and didn't want to protest, he wasn’t on his best judgment right now. he only wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you against him tightly and burying his face on the crook of your neck, thrusting harder, faster.

he felt the familiar knot of his belly, his body tensing and his balls tightening as his thrusts became sloppier. it wasn't long before he came undone under you, painting your walls white as he bit down hard on your neck, muffling his loud moan.

mark leaned back, sinking into the plush cushion of the couch, pulling you with him. the room fell into a hushed silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the soft, uneven breaths of the both of you. mark's arms wrapped around you in a simple yet intimate embrace, holding you close against him, as if he didn't want to let go just yet. his cock softened inside you, keeping his hot seed there, prolonging your feeling of being completely full.

“what are you thinking right now?” you break the silence after a moment and mark chuckled softly at your question, his grip on you loosening slightly as he relaxed into the embrace.

he took a moment to gather his thoughts, his fingers tracing small circles on your back. "i was just thinking about how i might have never experienced such a wonderful… moment if you hadn't been so insolent," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

you pulled away slightly, resting your hands on his shoulders to get a better look at him. a cheeky smile tugged at your lips as you teased, "i’m glad i could be of service. you'll never forget me now," you paused for a moment, your gaze fixed firmly on him. then, you leaned in a bit closer, your voice lowering to a sultry tone. “and, i hope you're ready for more.”

“m-more?” mark blinked a few times, his mind slowly processing the reality of what had just occurred. he was still reeling from the overwhelming pleasure of your touch and now, with his mind clearing, the reality of the situation was sinking in.

“well, i told you i thought of many ways to make you cum, didn't i?”

[blarshwritezz]

Heyaaa

Could i request yandere step brother that has been waiting for him and readers parents to go on their honeymoon and if possible could it be nsfw.

Could i be anon-🦅

Welcome, 🦅 anon!

Yandere Stepbrother x reader

M yan x gn reader

TW - NSFW, stepcest, somnophilia, general yandere behavior

Yan!Stepbro has loved you for years now. He had the future all planned out. The two of you were supposed to have an extremely romantic story ending in the two of you getting married and never ever even bothering to look at other people.

But of course, your mother and his father just had to have an affair together, get married, and ruin it all! How was he supposed to be with you now that you were step siblings?!

As years went by, he realized he didn't really care. He wanted you and he would have you! The only issue was the idea of being caught by your guys' parents. Much as he wanted to be with you, he didn't exactly want to be kicked out or something.

So he had to wait for so agonizingly long for your parents to finally go on their honeymoon. Part of him was deeply annoyed that it took so long, but the other part glad because now both you and him were more mature. He could show you his love in much better ways.

So one hot night, while you lay sleeping, he snuck into your room. It was like you wanted him too! The way you slept with no blankets in just your underwear...as if you too had dreamed of this night!

He was gentle, oh so gentle with you. Running his hands over your skin, grazing every last inch of you. His lips fluttered down your body leaving gentle yet needy kisses. All until he finally reached his destination.

He slid his hands into your underwear, slowly pulling then down and eventually tossing them away. You wouldn't be needing those. He moaned taking in a deep whiff of you. You smelled so good...he couldn't help but lick you up.

The little whines you made in your sleep were just too cute. He couldn't stop pleasing you with his mouth now! Not when you were clearly so aroused.

But he must have gotten too excited. "Step bro...what are you doing...?" You tiredly moaned, opening your eyes to see him practically devouring your crotch.

It was so wrong...and maybe you were just tired, but you couldn't deny how good it felt.

He had you climaxing for him pretty quick, and he happily lapped up all of your cum.

"So delicious...I love you so much. We're so much more than just step siblings." With those sweet words he rubbed some of your remaining cum against his cock before penetrating you, moaning as he was finally wrapped in your warmth.

He didn't waste much time in thrusting into you, slowly becoming rougher and rougher. He couldn't help it. You made him crazy, you know. Absolutely crazy for you.

The feeling of being inside you was even better than he dreamed. If he had it his way, he'd be stuffing you full of his cock 24 hours a day.

"Fuck, you feel so good...yes, squeeze around me tighter. Just like that."

Your hands intertwined with his, you holding on much tighter in an attempt to keep yourself steady as he pounded into you.

With one last groan, burying himself deep inside you, he filled you up with his cum. The warm feeling spread throughout your core, making you cum again as well.

"You look absolutely divine like this..." He brushed a strand of hair away from your flushed, sweaty face, admiring you.

You were all his now. He would never let you go.

Yes I absolutely DID have to add the "stepbro what are you doing"

[runariya]

One shot where jk is a virgin and he loses his V card to the popular girl OC and they fall in love. School/uni base setting.

part of the prompt game pairing: virgin nerd!Jungkook x popular!female reader genre: university!AU, S2L, fluff, smut warnings: pining, love at first sight, fluff, JK's a virgin, OC thinks JK is a fuckboy, smut, fingering, early male orgasm, switch in POV from JK to OC, slow fluffy protected sex, OC is on top, fluff, fluff, fluff, love confessions, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.618

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If he could write a symphony for you, he definitely would.

He’d tell the strings and trumpets to play as beautifully as heaven would, as it let you descend to earth to grace him with your presence.

But Jungkook simply can’t.

Not just because he doesn’t know a thing about writing a symphony, but because you’re plainly and agonisingly out of his league. He’s also pretty sure you don’t even know his name, despite being in the same major since freshman year, sharing every single class, day in and day out.

Jungkook’s been in love with you since the moment he first saw you—the popular, humble girl surrounded by hundreds of friends and three times as many admirers. And there’s no way, not even if hell froze over, that he, the officially crowned nerd of the university, will ever have the honour of even speaking to you.

Though that hasn’t stopped him from admiring you from afar, or even—something he’d never, ever admit—rubbing one out just because your eyes grazed his for a split second.

It’s a bit of a shock that, after being convinced by his friends to join them at a frat party one Saturday night, not only is he in the same room as you, but he’s sitting on this overly worn couch, chatting with you as if it’s just the two of you in the world.

He reckons your voice is even more melodic up close, your eyes not only beautifully deep but pulling him in, making escape impossible. You’ve been sitting close the whole time, but now—oh, now—you’re practically on his lap, and he’s struggling to keep it together.

Trying his best to stay cool, to hide how much his virgin self is rattled by your attention, Jungkook gathers all his courage to finally ask, “Do you want to head out?”

Neither of you has had a single drop to drink, and he’s not sure if his feelings for you have already made him drunk, but he swears he’s hallucinating when you beam at him and say, “Yes, sure.”

Fast forward: after you took his hand and both of you slipped away into the night, heading towards Jungkook’s dorm, you’re now on his bed, clothes long forgotten. Jungkook’s trying to recall everything he’s read and seen about sex on the internet, but he isn’t sure if he’s doing it right.

It seems you’re not the least bit bothered by his slightly shaky hands, which are doing their best not only to commit the feeling of your soft skin to memory but to pleasure you as much as he possibly can.

The taste of your lips is divine, but the squelching and pulsing of your tiny cunt is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to Jungkook. He never would’ve thought he’d come this far, but now he’s not about to back down, even if his own orgasm is far too close for his liking.

“Kook,” you mewl under him, hips pushing eagerly into his tattooed hand as two fingers pump and stretch you so incredibly.

“Baby, fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook breathes against your lips, no longer able to hide his true feelings.

You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep your first orgasm at bay because, quite frankly, tonight’s a dream come true. You finally had the guts not only to talk to your long-time crush but to have him in bed with you.

It’s nothing like what you thought it would be with Jungkook—the shy, private guy who keeps his circle small and rejects every woman who tries to approach him. He’s not the fuckboy you thought he might be, but an attentive, loving partner, and now you see he’s giving you everything he has.

Even the foreplay is the best you’ve ever had, and while his eyes and low grunts could make you cream his fingers in an instant, it’s the sight of his tattoo sleeve and his massive, leaking cock resting on your thigh that pushes you so high, you’re seeing every colour of the rainbow.

The fact that Jungkook comes all over your thigh and stomach just from the sight and the fact that he gave you an orgasm drives you mad in every way possible. And as he tries to get off you, fingers leaving your cunt as it calms down, you don’t let him slip away, grabbing his head with both hands to kiss him fiercely. You roll over, straddling his waist, trapping him where he belongs.

Jungkook doesn’t protest, his fingers tracing the expanse of your spine while his other hand holds your ass to make you more comfortable.

“Just tell me when you’re ready again, yeah? No pressure, Kook.” You press your lips softly to his face and neck, leaving a trail of kisses, toying with his silky hair and caressing his buff arms and pecs.

His soft moans, paired with his fluttering lashes, make him look and sound like an otherworldly being, though you’ve always thought of him as such.

It feels not only cold but empty where his hand leaves your ass to open the drawer beside him, rummaging blindly for a condom.

“You sure?” Jungkook asks for the nth time tonight, and once again, your answer is the same.

“Yes. Are you?”

The pink dusting Jungkook’s cheeks hasn’t faded since you first kissed him, but now, with that broad smile and perfectly aligned teeth on full display, you realise your crush has transformed into the purest form of love.

“Of course, beautiful.”

Seeing that his hands are shaking a bit more than yours, you take the liberty of grabbing the condom from him and putting it on for him—not because you’ve probably got more practice than he does, but to ease his nerves a little more. And it works, as he lets his hands rest on your thighs, squeezing them ever so gently as if to say he’s here and won’t ever leave.

As you line up his cock with your dripping cunt, knowing it’ll be hard to relax and make him fit easily, you can’t help but lean back down towards him, your free hand cradling his chiselled jaw, hoping he’ll feel the devotion you have for him in the kiss you share.

As expected, it’s tight—nearly too tight—as your cunt practically screams at the orgasmic burn of his cock, but you can’t seem to give it much attention when Jungkook’s shimmering eyes, like the polar lights on the darkest nights, hold you captive.

And when you hit his pelvis, both of you moan, lips drawing together like magnets once again, tongues intertwining over and over as if they’re linking you both together for eternity. You can’t stay still for long, and Jungkook seems to share this thought as his hands settle on your hips, helping you ride him just right.

It’s slow, it’s intense, and it’s everything you wanted—everything Jungkook is. You hope he feels the same because there’s no way you’ll ever want, no need, something or someone else.

“Gosh, I love…it so much,” you barely manage to catch yourself tripping over your words, but it’s as if Jungkook understands nonetheless when he picks up the pace, his hand reaching up to tangle in your hair and take your breath away—not only with the increased rhythm but with a kiss full of emotion.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to explode in fireworks as bright as the sun itself. How could you not, when it feels like you were meant to be, when it feels as if you were soulmates?

Your breathing slowly comes down as you lie on his chest, listening to his powerful and calm heartbeat while he traces mindless circles on your back and massages your scalp. You want this moment to last, you want him to last.

But you don’t know how.

Thankfully, Jungkook finds his voice first as he carefully shifts you off him, not minding the condom still wrapped around him.

“Thank you,” he says softly, tracing the lines of your face with gentle fingers while his eyes turn a little sad with longing that mirrors yours.

You take his hand in yours, kissing each knuckle without breaking eye contact, causing the sadness to fade just a bit.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want this?”

“What do you mean?”

You’re sure he’s not playing dumb because he genuinely looks confused, his eyes switching between yours.

“Do you want me?”

There’s a bit of silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward in the slightest.

“Do you want me?” he asks right back, serious as if you need to rethink.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and after relaxing his lips from a straight line, he confesses, “You are my first.”

You never would have thought that to be true, but you’re sure he’s honest with you right now because looking back, there were little, barely noticeable signs that could have pointed to that.

“You’re not my first,” you confess as well, knowing that not every woman bleeds on their first time.

Jungkook just shrugs into the mattress, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I love you.”

He says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you reckon it is, because you absolutely feel the same.

“I love you too.”

You’re both giggling like teenagers, your pair of eyes sparkling not only with happiness but with the adoration you hold for each other.

“Okay, girlfriend.”

“Okay, boyfriend.”

And with that, Jungkook pulls you closer, sealing your relationship with the sweetest kisses from the sweetest lips you’ve ever tasted and will ever taste.

[springlockscars]

office after hours (w. afton/fem!reader)

pairing: william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: age gap, size kink, praise kink, overstimulation, cockwarming (if you squint), riding, multiple orgasms, rough sex summary: "steve" and you take advantage of the privacy his office provides after hours. word count: 2,662 read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: so many pet names used I'm sorry. there isn't necessarily a plot here and I have no idea if I'll continue this or write a beginning part, lmk! based on a dream I had no word of a lie. enjoy ♡

“O-oh! That's it baby girl.. Just like that...” William moans and tilts his head back, resting it on the back of his office chair. 

Your breath comes in shallow pants as you glide yourself back and forth over his rock-hard cock. You could feel every ridge and vein between your legs, bumping your clit as you moved. 

William's shirt unbuttoned, tie discarded, his slacks un-buckled and dropped all the way down to his shins. You, completely bare on top of him, coating his length with your wetness at an agonisingly teasing pace. 

William's hands grip your hips with enough force to bruise as he relishes in the divine pleasure you're both experiencing. You feel sweat begin to roll down your back as your neediness grows. 

“C'mere,” William says in a breathless grunt, looking down at where he lies between your legs. He takes your hips in his vice-like grip and drags your soaking wet entrance all the way to the tip of his cock. He pushes you backwards again, his tip slowly stretching you.  

The pressure you feel is unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

“Ah!” You gasp, “it-it's too big!” Gripping onto his shirt and squirming in his lap. 

William just presses you down onto his cock more, and more, grunting with every twitch of your body. His head rolls back against his chair again, moaning through gritted teeth. 

“So tight,” he lets out a shuddering breath, “oh my baby bunny is so tight for me.”

You seriously don't think it'll fit, especially with no other preparation beforehand. 

Gasping and writhing in his grip, you feel his hot breath against your neck as the pressure builds to an unbearably uncomfortable level.

“A-ah! fuck please, it's too m-mu- ah!” You choke on your words as you finally feel the tip of his hard length push through and gain entry. Crying out, you collapse and rest your head on his shoulder. 

William shushes you, running his large, rough hands up your thighs to caress your small, pert buttocks before running them back down your thighs again “Shh bunny, shh. It's ok. You're doing so well, I knew you could do it,” his hands stroke up to your hips to resume his grip. 

“It's like you were made for me,” he whispers against your neck. 

He pulls you up, slowly, as though he were about to pull out what little of him had entered entirely. Only to push you back down on his cock, forcing it to enter deeper inside your walls.

Still with your head buried in his shoulder you try to rock your hips to match the movements he's making. Each downward stroke letting him reach deeper and deeper inside you while simultaneously pulling high pitched whines from your mouth. 

“Oh.. My girl.. You're doing so well. Taking me so well... So good for me,” he nips and licks down the side of your throat to your shoulder. Nuzzling his nose into your neck and inhaling your scent. 

All you can do is choke out a moan in response. 

He continues working you down his length, the stretch burning and the pressure inside building more and more. 

I don't know if I can take much more. You think to yourself, how much more is there...

You knew he was big after he ordered you on your knees to free him from the constraints of his slacks. Telling you exactly how to run your small hands up and down his length before impatiently pulling you off the ground to sit on his lap and make his cock slick with your wetness. The only preparation made before he tried to bury himself deep inside you. 

“Ugh.. That's it my bunny... almost.. there,” William pants as his length reaches deeper and deeper with every stroke.

He once again lifts you with ease almost fully off his cock before pulling you back down agonisingly slow. He does it again, but this time you feel the tops of his thighs brush your backside. “You're taking me so well. Taking my cock so well,” he groans as he pulls you down one final time, sitting completely on his lap with his length entirely buried inside you. 

The feeling of fullness is indescribable.

He pushes you off his shoulder to look in your face, stroking your damp hair back and taking your chin in his hand. ”How does it feel baby?” he asks, eyes burning with lust.

all you can do in response is pant and grip what remains of his clothes. 

“Has my baby gone dumb?” He strokes your cheek with his thumb, “has my cock made you speechless?”

Truth be told, the feeling of your tight walls pulsing around him has him feeling drunk too. Gone are the days where William could only imagine stuffing you full of his cock until you cried. He has you now. And he'll take you whenever he wants. 

William brings his hands down your neck to your breasts with a feather light touch. Cupping them, rolling and pinching your nipples to hard points as you sit there, fully sheathed on his cock. He situates his hands down at your waist, stroking your skin gently with his thumbs while he watches you sit there with your completely blissed out expression. 

Mine. He thinks. All mine. 

He tightens his grip, drawing your attention. “Baby,” he smiles when your eyes meet his, a dark grin twisting across his features, “I'm going to fuck you now,” he states.

With that being his only warning, he lifts you again effortlessly upwards and almost entirely off his cock, before slamming you back down.

Crying out and arching your back, your nerves feel like they're on fire from the sensation. William continues his assault on your pussy, his hips snapping upwards into yours repeatedly and forcefully. All you can do is cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

Your hands gripping his arms as your head falls backwards, overstimulated and completely drunk on the pleasure he's giving you. 

William lets out a ragged moan, feeling your walls spasm as he pounds you relentlessly, again and again. Your breasts jiggling with nipples hard right in front of his face. He looks down to where your bodies connect, feeling a surge of pleasure go straight to his groin at the sight of his cock penetrating you over and over. 

“Oh... my bunny... so good. You feel so good.”

His praise joining the sounds of your moans, and the sound of his thighs slapping against yours to echo through his office. Good thing you were the only ones in the building. 

Tears burned in your eyes from the overstimulation, spilling down your cheeks and dripping down to your breasts. The sight made William even more turned on, grunting with every thrust up into your tight, bruised pussy. 

“a-ah... ohhh.. m'god... unfff- ah!” Your incoherent sounds like a chant encourage him on, his thrusts never slowing. He's animalistic, the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead mixing with your own in the valley between your breasts. He leans forward to capture a nipple in his mouth, maintaining his pace. The taste on his tongue a salty mix of your sweat and tears. 

You throw one arm around the back of his neck and bury your fingers in his hair as he repeatedly sucks and bites at your breast enough to bruise. You'd be covered in them by morning. Markings to show you off as his. 

He moves to give the other breast the same attention, the same bright red-purple marks, before pulling away and leaning back in his chair again to watch you ride. 

“Do you like this, hm?” He asks, grunting, “do you like the way my cock feels inside you?” 

All you can do is grasp at the back of his neck and at his hand on your waist. His pace still doesn't relent as you continue to moan, your voice becoming hoarse. 

“Does it feel good my little bunny? Riding me like this... I-ahh... You're just so tight. You feel so good.. feels so good.. and tight around me...”

You can feel the burning ache low in your tummy get stronger and stronger. Your hands grasping at William desperately as he just keeps roughly pounding you. 

The feeling tightens and tightens, your cries choked out becoming higher. Until you feel it snap inside as you lose all control and spasm around William's cock. Your back arched, your legs shaking, digging your nails into his skin so hard you're surprised it doesn't break. 

“Unfff...Fuck. That's it baby girl, that's it... Come for me baby, come on my cock,” your walls rapidly squeezing him is a feeling William never wants to forget, bringing him closer to the edge of his own orgasm.

He maintains his pace, not slowing for a second to let you ride out your orgasm. His large hands pulling you down on his cock harder than ever before. 

“St-stop!” you cry, “S'too m-much- ah!” The overstimulation making you feel like you're one of his machines short circuiting. You continue to spasm in his lap as he intensifies his thrusts. Tears prick at the edges of your eyes and spill down your cheeks. It's too much. 

William, panting himself now, solidifies his grip on your body. “S-so good.. my bunny... So good for me...” Reaching the climax of his own orgasm his thoughts are completely lost on you, only using your body to reach his high. 

His unrelenting assault on your body brings the warm ache deep inside you back once again. Your moans going from breathless heaving to shallow cries, feeling the tightness peaking. 

You claw at any part of William your hands will reach. His neck, his shirt damp with sweat, his toned biceps down to his hands in their death grip on your flesh. 

The pleasure becoming too much as you cry out his name, and feel the snap inside you, once again sending spasms throughout your entire body as William holds you firm. You can't tell if your vision faded or if you have your eyes closed. 

Your walls clenching uncontrollably around William's cock a second time are enough to send him over the edge of his own orgasm. He slams your hips down against his one last time before finally stilling. He rests his forehead against your heaving chest as you feel him twitch deep, his hips rocking as he comes inside you, breathing sharp through his gritted teeth.

Until he finally sighs.

He relaxes his grip on your waist, head falling back against his chair once again. 

Your mouth hangs agape as you feel the electric shocks of your second orgasm dissipate throughout your entire body, calming to a dull buzz. 

William runs his hands up and down your sides in a soothing motion, pulling you into his chest. Your wet skin pressed against his as you fully relax against him. He strokes your back as both of your breathing settles to a normal pace. Relishing in the post orgasm bliss. 

“You did so well for me my baby bunny,” he sighs, head tipped up to the ceiling. “So well, I'm so proud of you,” he leans down to pepper light kisses against your neck. 

The adrenaline vanishing from your body, your eyelids grow heavy. You hum in appreciation of his praise and settle in closer in his embrace.

“Tired?” William asks, “c'mon, we can't sleep here. The cleaners are coming in early tomorrow and you know we can't be caught in here.”

He places one last kiss to your jawline as he encourages you back up to a sitting position. His cock still buried to the hilt inside you. You rub your eyes and sigh. William rests his hands on your hips once again and pouts, “I really did tire you out, hm?” he leans in and connects his lips to yours, sighing into the kiss. 

William takes your hips firmly in his hands and raises you up off his now softening length. You gasp at the quick movement and the sudden loss of the full feeling you had become accustomed to. He takes his chance to deepen the kiss, pressing his tongue against yours and completely dominating your mouth as you whimper against his lips.

William pulls back, feeling a surge of pride at your expression. Eyes half closed, a picture of bliss. 

“Can you stand?” He asks as he lifts your small frame from his lap. Your legs shakily extend beneath you and tremble when they try to take your weight. “C'mere, hold on,” he places your hands on his shoulders as he retrieves your panties from where they were discarded on the floor. He helps you step into them and pulls them swiftly up your legs and over your ass. William strokes his thumbs over your hip bones and presses a couple of kisses to your abdomen. 

“Here, sit there while I get our things,” William guides you backwards to sit on the edge of his desk, the wood cold against your backside. 

He pulls his own slacks back up his legs, tucking himself back into his underwear and buckling his belt. He leans back in his chair and begins to button his shirt, eyes raking over you perched on his desk like you’re his prey. 

How did I get so lucky... William thinks to himself.

Before getting halfway through the buttons, he realises that this shirt is far too soiled to wear in the car.

He stands from his desk chair and retrieves another shirt from the locker in the corner of the room. William was no stranger to spending the night in the office when the idea of driving home in the early hours wasn't appealing. Or when the warmth of the whiskey he keeps locked in the bottom drawer of his desk takes hold during a cold night.

He dresses in the clean shirt, collects the soiled one, along with his tie from where it lay on the ground and stuffs them inside his documents bag. William turns his attention back to you, collecting your discarded clothes from the ground too, only to realise the problem you now have. 

“Ah... I forgot...” He holds the torn pieces of fabric in his hands, completely unwearable. He may have been too overexcited to get you undressed. Even your bra was ruined, the elastic straps snapped and dangling pathetically. “Mm,” he turns away to stuff your clothes in his bag too.

“Ah!” he grasps his coat from the rack by the door, gesturing you to come over to him with his hand.

You stand on shaky legs, holding onto the edge of the desk before going stand before him, looking up to into his face while wearing only your panties.

William steps closer and wraps his big coat around your bare shoulders, pulling it snug. “Not great... But it'll have to do for the drive home,” he collects your shoes and crouches all the way down to the floor to help you put them on.

“...Home?” you ask.

“Of course baby,” William says as he guides your shoe on your foot, you holding onto his shoulders as he does so, “what like I'm just gonna leave you here, alone and naked in the dark?” 

William secures the second shoe and stands back upright, towering down over you. He grasps your chin and tilts your head to look all the way up at him. “You do want to come with me, right?” 

You nod quickly, eyes wide and cheeks flushing. 

“Excellent,” he grins and strokes your cheek before turning to collect his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. 

“Come on, better get out of here before anyone else gets here,” he opens his office door, having a tentative look left and right before guiding you out into the hallway towards the exit. 

William flips off the light switch and closes the door to his office softly behind him. 

[gnawing-suspicion]

Favorite Hannigram Fics of 2024

So! I’ve been thinking about making this list for weeks but it overwhelmed me — I started reading Hannigram fic this year and have consumed millions of words of it. I began without an ao3 account so many of the ones I started with are lost to the aether, but here are the absolute gems, the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Some are popular, others less known.

My tastes might not be yours, but I am drawn to excellent writing, slow burns, power dynamics and a healthy dose of twisted kink. So! ONWARD!

Note: The Shape of Me Will Always be You and Consenting to Dream are a given.

Blackbird by @emungere - “Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.”

I love D/s Hannigram and this was exquisite. Everything by emungere is, of course, but this is my favorite.

Bram Stoker’s HANNIBAL by @dbmars - “Hannibal + Bram Stoker's Dracula + the classic novel = a new version of the seductive vampire legend.”

A love letter to both the 90s film and the original work. This is the longest fic I read this year and it consumed me for weeks. It’s gorgeous, sexy, beautifully-written and every casting choice made me kick my feet with glee.

Secretary by FragileTeacup and ThisIsMyDesignHannibal - “Will Graham needs a job. Since quitting the FBI, he’s been adrift for months, broken and lost; chasing a desire he doesn’t understand in increasingly destructive ways. What he needs is stability, direction, something to help put his life back in order and quiet the buzzing in his head.”

Secretary is one of my favorite films ever, and this take on it had me foaming at the mouth. It’s so good. SO GOOD.

Hinterland by @pastelwell - “When they crash into the water he believes it’s over. He followed his final impulse to do the right thing by his friends, his family, the world. The last flutters of morality within him had guided him, even as he looked into the eyes of a murderer who had somehow compelled his fall from grace. Here, in the frigid deep waters, their chapter is closed and their story is concluded. Except it isn’t. This is just the beginning.”

A divine post-fall fic of rehabilitation, angst, longing and some of the hottest smut imaginable. I love a post-fall fic and this is top-tier!!

With skin intact and altered souls by romanticallyinept - Will snorts his laughter, shifting to tuck his hands under his arms. “Come on,” he says, turning his head to look over at Hannibal. “The chances of two serial killers being in one car would be astronomical.”

They’re both serial killers!!! What are the odds!! This one is so fun, so fucked, so hot. Really great dialogue.

Our Shadows, That are Bold, Sing by @highermagic - “The monster under Will's bed calls himself Hannibal. He has lived there since Will was old enough to have a bed. He is very smart, and Will likes him very much. He protects Will's dreams, wakes him when he has nightmares. He embraces Will with shadows that black out the morning light when dawn comes, and sings soft songs that Will doesn't know.”

Listen, I read basically every one of HigherMagic’s fics this year. They’re all, every one of them, incredible. This one really got me, though. Monster Hannibal is my husband now.

patroclus in furs by bleakmidwinter - “Will Graham has been acting in heterosexual porn for years but is fired when his manager encourages him to take a higher-paying job for a homosexual centric porn company. There, he finds his expectations turned upside down.”

This is obviously ABSURD but oh my god, did I love it. Will Graham having a sexual identity crisis with notoriously sadistic porn god Hannibal is like candy to me. 10/10.

Cuisine Euphonique by thecountessolivia - “Nightmares brought on by a gruesome case lead Will to some unorthodox therapy in the form of a YouTube cooking channel.”

Will gets obsessed with Hannibal’s secret ASMR channel. Incredible phone sex is the natural conclusion. The descriptions of sound in this are viscerally gorgeous.

Funeral of Flowers by thecountessolivia - “Venice, 1870. The heart of winter. The once great city republic is on its knees. The banned institution of Carnevale lives on discreetly in the masked balls that light up the grand palazzi of the rich and the well-born.”

Hannigram at Carnevale. Sumptuous, longing, decadently described historical AU. Loved this to death.

Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei - “Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.”

An even smuttier They’re Both Serial Killers fic that had me howling in the streets. You want bloody horny Hannigram? This is elite!!

To Fuel Your Radiance by GoldenUsagi - “AU where Will is the actual Devil. After Hannibal sells his soul, a fascination begins to develop between them. Will is intrigued by the unique monster Hannibal is, while Hannibal thinks Will is the most magnificent thing he's ever encountered. As their conversations continue, their involvement with each other becomes something else entirely.”

I’m not gonna lie, I think this was my favorite fic I read this year. Will as The Devil is so hot I screamed. There’s a scene at the end that is so fucked I lost my mind. Not even close to safe or sane. A masterpiece.

The Night Owl by sourweather - “Will works the graveyard shift at his University's 24 hour Library. There's another student who only comes in to study in the dead of night. Will can't explain why, but something about that boy has caught his attention.”

College AU! COLLEGE AU! Featuring some great Beverly fun.

An Ounce of Wit by winddragon - “AKA a modern magical AU where the entire point is to turn Will Graham into a catboy.”

The infamous Will is a Catboy fic that is somehow SO good. I had to be convinced to read this but I’m so glad I did. It’s an absolute delight, and the dark magic is so cool?! Goofy, yes, but delicious.

old-fashioned divinity candy by antiheroblake - “the relationship between old money, med student hannibal lecter and his newly rich sugar daddy, will graham”

An ongoing WIP that has me hooked by the throat. If you like the boys being absolutely stupid for each other and also absolutely stupid about it, you’ll eat this up. Young Hannibal is such an idiot. I love him.

in the gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini - “Hannibal and Will have murder husbands mind palace sex, and Alana watches obsessively.”

I mean, it does what it says on the box. It does it SO WELL. Honk honk and, if I may add, awoooga.

show me where it hurts (I’ll lick it clean) by antiheroblake - “at 18, will inherits a ranch upon the death of his father, a man who died from a supposed family curse. at 33, will becomes prone to accidents, and the new town doctor starts to see him more than he sees his cattle.”

Accident-prone Will in the Old West HATES his sexy new doctor. You won’t believe what happens next!!!

Bring Out Your Desires by TheCosmicNSFW - “After spontaneously having to save a man's life inside an ambulance, Hannibal Lecter finds Will Graham being naughty in the bathroom. He decides that Will Graham might be a more valuable asset than he originally thought, and he convinces Will to let him work out his true desires - but is offering your mind to Hannibal on a silver platter such a great idea?”

An ongoing Hypnosis Kink fic that has absolutely inspired some of Fever Dreams. Bonus points for a fic that gave me a new kink!! Doesn’t happen every day!

The Sugar Bowl by BelladonnaWyck and raiast

Listen, ok, I like a sugar daddy fic. I’m picky about them, though!! This one involves University Will and he’s such a perfect mess.

Mine to Touch by piginapoketuesday - “Will's neck flushed with fear. Never being allowed to feed himself again. Learning to associate food with a swollen, untouched cock. Swallowing prettily and on command. His body betrayed him, and he moaned around the fork in his mouth.”

This one popped up during my exploration of the Sub Will Graham tag and woooooof, yes. Yes!!

2 weeks by EarthsickWithoutYou - “After reading the news of Will's marriage to Molly, an incarcerated Hannibal cannot bear their separation or his own jealousy any longer. He breaks out and finds Will, proposing a bet: that Will gives Hannibal two weeks to prove his love and convince Will to run away with him. If Hannibal succeeds, they will be together for life, but if he fails, he'll return to the BSHCI and never see Will again. With Hannibal's heart on the line and Will's inner moral conflict hard to hear above the roar of his longing for the killer, what choice is he going to make?”

Insanely jealous Hannibal + bone-deep yearning + “I can give you what she never could” = 🔥🔥🔥🔥😤🥵

Appetites of the Flesh by Magnetism_bind - “Will gets aroused at murder scenes. Eventually this gets noticed.”

A rec from @graciereadshannigram that also introduced me to a new kink. It’s twisted, obviously, but godDAMN it’s hot. And speaking of Gracie…

CrimsonDesires by Scifibabe - “Post-fall, Will and Hannibal discover that Alana became a bestselling erotic novelist and surprise! She based her characters on Will and Hannibal. Drunken dramatic reading of various passages ensues.”

This is absolute crack and I ate it up like ICE CREAM. A kick-your-feet delight. Watch as Will blushes so hard he nearly dies. And lest we forget my fave of her Kinktober fics…

Touched for the Very First Time by Scifibabe - “One night post-fall, Will proposes something new: letting Hannibal seduce him as if it's his first time. As Will slips into a younger, more hesitant version of himself, he’s reminded of all the things he's never let himself fully experience. With Hannibal guiding him through each step, Will discovers just how much he still craves being taken care of, in every sense.”

This blew my mind. It’s so hot. Thank you for the food!!!! Bonus mention for the Daddy Kink Fisting episode.

act on it by acheforhim - “Will is lonely and his long-distance fuckbuddy encourages him to pursue Hannibal.”

It took me MONTHS into reading fic to give omegaverse a try. I’m still fussy about it, but this one is so hot.

Graham Cam by bigfootghostdick - “In nearly every aspect of his life, Hannibal is wholly unabashed in the endeavors he chooses to take on, especially where Will is concerned. At his core, he lives outside the realm of societal norms, so in a twisted effort to learn more about the beautiful empath that has captured his attention so utterly, he decides to install hidden cameras inside Will’s home.

Will is blissfully unaware…or is he?”

Hdhagahajajbfdg.

Illicit Affairs by EarthsickWithoutYou - “AU in which Will is living a quiet, safe, but deeply conflicted life in Maine, married to Molly but secretly longing for his dark Becoming. Mired in self-hatred and despair, he seeks comfort in the church. But things get very complicated once he meets the new priest at his parish, Father Hannibal Lecter.”

I have a massive Priest Kink and this did it for me in every way possible. I love how all of EarthsickWithoutYou’s fics are so deeply religious. I’m not, but I love reading it!!

suffer does the wolf by cedarbranch - “Under extreme physical duress, a werewolf's transformation cycles may fall out of phase with the moon. Will has experienced it once before. He'd hoped he never would again. But the fall was not kind to him, and when two full moons pass afterwards with no sign of a change, something has to give.

The solution: a tight leather collar, woven through with pure silver chain to prevent unwanted transformation. Will hates the collar. But it might be different when Hannibal's the one putting it on him.”

I may be iffy on omegaverse, but I LOVE fics where Will is a werewolf. It just suits him. That plus BDSM power dynamics? SOLD

even though our love is doomed by bleakmidwinter - “Hannibal solves the mystery of time travel and he and Will decide to go into the past and take opportunities previously missed along with rewriting the regrets they each hold. Changing the past does not effect the future and they have free reign to play as the please.”

I loved this, oh how I loved this, particularly when they fuck themselves. What a treat for me!!

How to Be a Good Boy: A Guide for the Novice Werewolf by HigherMagic - “Will gets scratched by a strange dog during the full moon.”

I told you I like Will as a werewolf and this is peak!!

WHEW. I know there are more I could add and some I’ve lost track of or forgotten, but these fics changed me!! I obviously pored through the archives of a few authors - HigherMagic, emungere, MissDisoriental, thecountessolivia, EarthsickWithoutYou, Scifibabe, antiheroblake, bleakmidwinter and DBMars all kept me fed this year! 🖤 without all their incredible work I never would’ve started writing my own fic, so I’m deeply grateful.

I love this fandom and now that you can see my tastes, I am very open to your recs 🖤🖤🖤

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Under Your Spell

Vox x Reader

Since childhood, I have been told I look identical to my great-grandmother. Her husband, my great-grandfather, has looked at me like I was the last fragment of her to walk this earth. When he passed, it made me realize how some people lose their first loves and never get to see them again. I decided for this story that Vox should get to see his first love after he thought all was lost. However, it was you, his first lost love's great-granddaughter. You have the same looks and names, just younger. He thought after his first love's father chased him away, that was it, and any part of your life would never be in his hands again—until you were placed in Val's hands, and his protective side came out. Can you two learn to love each other? Will things grow or dissolve since he is close to that horrid Moth man? Tw: MDNI, 18+, Assult, Val being Val, Weird family-like relations, based off my HC Vox

Wow, this one is a long one. Please enjoy it and let me know what you think! I don't normally write long pieces like this, so if we like it, I will attempt to do it more! I wanted this posted yesterday but just kept writing and writing and writing. I had to make myself stop and cut off.

“No, Vox! You will never see my daughter again! Do you hear me?” The older man’s voice thundered, his face a deep crimson, veins bulging as fury twisted his features. Spit flew from his mouth with each vehement word, a grotesque display of his rage. “She is a good Christian woman, and she will not fall for your television antics! She deserves a good man—someone who can provide for her, not some reality star scum!”

Vox swallowed hard, the bitter taste of desperation rising in his throat. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, but he fought to keep them at bay, unwilling to give the man before him the satisfaction of seeing him crumble. “You can’t do this!” He surged forward, trying to push the door open again, the threshold of your home now a barrier between love and despair. Just moments ago, he had envisioned a simple marriage proposal—an intimate moment filled with promise. But the moment he uttered those words, it felt as if the heavens had opened up to unleash divine wrath upon him. Vox was never a good christian man and now only seemed to further prove that.

“I love her! I have loved her for so long! I will treat her right! You cannot take my Angel from me!” His voice cracked, desperation saturating each syllable as he pleaded with the man who wielded the power to shatter his dreams.

But the door slammed shut, the finality of it echoing in his heart. As Vox stumbled back, the world around him blurred, the vibrant colors of love fading into a monochrome nightmare. You were gone, just as quickly as you had entered his life, your father’s iron grip ripping you from his arms. Like a good Christian girl, you obeyed, never looking back.

You married a well-off businessman, someone who could provide in all the ways Vox was deemed incapable. Sundays found you in polished pews, while he languished in the bright glare of daytime TV. You bore children while Vox climbed the ranks to prime time, and as he basked in fleeting fame, you were left to wither under the weight of a dreaded illness. When he was ultimately taken down by his own deceitful schemes, it felt like a cruel twist of fate for you both.

When Vox woke in hell, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, he felt a strange sense of contentment; he knew he had courted darkness throughout his life. A con man’s rise to fame was paved with the broken dreams of others, and he’d danced on that line with reckless abandon. Yet, the greatest cost was the loss of you—his little angel, the only light that could have guided him from the shadows. Perhaps, if he had kept you by his side, he might have found redemption instead of ruin.

Years in hell stretched on, dull and monotonous, much like his time as a TV host. He made acquaintances, and he made enemies. He learned from the notorious Radio Demon, their relationship evolving into a rivalry as fierce as it was complex. Valentino entered the picture, a partnership forged in the fires of self-interest, followed by Velvette, who added her own chaotic flair to their strange trio. Despite these new connections, Vox could never fully release you from his heart. How could he let go of his first love, the girl who had filled his world with color?

Vox kept tabs on you long ago when you two still walked among the living, an unyielding shadow lurking in the corners of your life. He was a shady man, after all, so it was no surprise that he employed someone to follow you and your family. He needed to know you were loved and cared for, even if it meant watching from the sidelines. Your life blossomed into something beautiful—a picture-perfect family, Sunday church outings, laughter echoing through the halls of your home. Each glimpse of your happiness twisted the knife in his heart, a reminder of what he had lost. He only wished now here in hell he could have a moment to see you once more.

Yet, you never looked back at him, not once. Even when he learned you were sick, he held onto the hope that your devoted husband would nurse you back to health. Instead, you spent your final years in a realm far brighter than hell, surrounded by family, while Vox remained trapped in the shadows.

Then, one fateful day, the story took an unforeseen turn. You, Y/N L/N, the great-granddaughter of the woman who once bore the same name and likeness, found yourself in a world steeped in piety and predictability. Your family’s life revolved around the church—Sunday services, Bible studies, and summer camps that felt more like shackles than blessings.

Yet you, the wild child among your siblings and the first daughter in generations, danced on the edge of rebellion. Your spirit, a fiery blend of your grandmother’s beauty and the reckless charm of a man she once sought to escape late into the night with, burned brightly. You lived humbly, taking only what you needed in the daylight, but at night that didn’t stop you from indulging in the vices that thrilled your heart—partying, drinking, and seeking freedom in every forbidden encounter.

As you stepped into adulthood, the veil of your misdeeds was ripped away, exposing the wild and reckless girl you had been. On your eighteenth birthday, the news broke like a thunderclap, echoing through your conservative town. Whispers turned to shouts as tales of your high school escapades spread like wildfire—parties, late nights, and indiscretions that painted you as the black sheep of your family.

In a desperate attempt to salvage your reputation, your parents enrolled you in a Christian college, hoping the structure would steer you back to the righteous path. But even there, with the pressure of expectations weighing heavily on you, you found ways to maintain your hedonistic lifestyle. You studied hard, yes, but the allure of nightlife was too intoxicating to resist. By the time you turned twenty-four, your antics had once again come to light, revealing just how unladylike and un-Christian your behavior had truly become.

Disowned by your family, you were cast out like a forgotten relic, but it hardly stung. You had siblings aplenty—golden children who fit the mold your parents desired. While they basked in their parents' approval, you reveled in your newfound freedom, embracing a life unshackled from the burdens of propriety. You danced through life with a wild abandon, each misstep a badge of honor in your quest for self-discovery.

But this exhilarating freedom came crashing down one fateful night. On the eve of your twenty-eighth birthday, you found yourself at a pulsating club, surrounded by friends who matched your energy. Laughter and music melded into a cacophony of joy, and for a moment, the weight of your past felt distant. But as the night wore on, everything blurred. A drink, laced with malice, slipped into your hand, and before you knew it, the world around you faded to black.

When you came to, the vibrant lights and music were replaced by an oppressive stillness. You blinked, disoriented, trying to piece together what had happened. Panic surged through you as you recognized your surroundings—a hellish landscape bathed in a sinister shade of red. The air was thick with a suffocating heat, and the ground beneath you felt like it was pulsating with a malevolent energy.

The reality of your situation crashed down like a wave, and you realized you were no longer in the world you had known. You had crossed an unforgiving threshold, one that led straight into this hellish landscape. Memories of your life flashed before your eyes—your family’s disappointment, your reckless choices, the fleeting moments of joy that now seemed tainted.

As you struggled to rise, the shadows began to shift and swirl around you, whispering secrets of despair and temptation. You knew you were exactly where you belonged, a place you practically through yourself at the minute you were old enough to disobey your family. You were killed and now resting here in the pits of hell.

In those fleeting moments, you understood that you weren’t just a victim of circumstance from one bad drink; you were a participant in your own chaotic narrative. The life you had led and the choices you had made brought you here, and now, in this twisted realm, you had the chance to confront the consequences of your actions. 

With a mixture of fear and defiance, you steeled yourself, ready to navigate this dark new world. You would face whatever challenges awaited you, determined to reclaim your story, even if it meant battling the demons of your past—both literally and figuratively.

You were in hell and you readily accepted this, dressed in a glitzy clubbing dress, your skin transformed to the vibrant hue of a fox’s rich orange, glinted with specks of white and black. Yet, amidst this twisted beauty, your features still bore the unsettling resemblance to your deceased great grandmother.

As the years dragged on, the brutal exterminations became increasingly difficult to evade. The once-familiar landscape of hell morphed into a relentless hunt, where survival was a cruel game of chance. Desperation gnawed at your insides, leading you to a place you had sworn to avoid—a notorious sex house owned by Valentino, a figure whose reputation sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened souls.

You stepped into that den of sexual sin with a singular purpose: the Vee’s worker bees somehow endured the purges, and you were desperate to escape the clutches of a second death. With a resolve, you signed up to be 'looked at' for a position among his girls, hoping to cling to life a little longer.

What you encountered inside was an atmosphere so charged with depravity it felt like a physical weight pressing down on you. The air was thick with the heady scent of desperation and lust, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and smoke. You had pushed boundaries in your past life, but this was another level entirely. As nausea rose in your throat, you instinctively turned to prayer—a futile gesture in this place of darkness.

But in that moment of vulnerability, your fate took a turn. Valentino’s gaze locked onto yours, and you became acutely aware of the power dynamics at play. You were stunning, a rare gem in a world where foxes were coveted for their allure, and you were an easy choice for Val, despite your lack of experience in the kind of intensity he demanded.

Fortune, it seemed, was on your side. Within hours, you found yourself promoted, thrust into the orbit of Angel Dust, a top star in this grim world, and whisked away to Vee's Tower, where the underbelly of the film industry thrived. At first, your work was relatively tame, as Angel had angered Val, bearing the brunt of the wrath while you breathed a sigh of relief. You grew to enjoy the role, finding unexpected camaraderie with Velvette, the costume designer whose creativity brought a splash of color to the otherwise bleak environment. She was a refreshing presence, a stark contrast to the calculating Val.

Yet, the shadows loomed ever closer. Angel’s absence, demanded by the princess of hell, left you standing alone in a spotlight that felt increasingly dangerous. Whispers of Val’s violent tendencies echoed in your mind, tales of how he had ruthlessly eliminated two of Velvette’s models and three of Vox’s interns. Fear coursed through your veins as you perched on a plum-red bed, clad in a navy blue lingerie set, feeling like prey waiting to be devoured.

And then, without warning, the door swung open. You braced yourself, only to find not Val, but a strikingly handsome man with a television for a head. It was Vox, the elusive figure you had only heard whispers about. You leaned forward, captivated by the confrontation unfolding before you, the tension crackling in the air like electricity.

But then Val’s eyes landed on you, and his smile widened, a predatory gleam igniting within them. “My dear Voxypoo,” Val purred, “how about we make a deal? I’ll apologize for my misdeeds towards your interns in exchange for Hermosa over here.” 

Your heart raced as Vox’s eyes widened in recognition, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. An unexpected jolt of electricity surged through you, mingling with fear and a spark of something dangerously close to desire. You were caught in a web of fate, and as the stakes rose higher, you realized that your story in this hell was only just beginning.

You had never met this man before a day in your life, yet an inexplicable pull drew you toward him, a magnetic static crackling in the air around him. “Oh Vox, if you don’t want her, that’s fine. I plan on her taking Angel’s role today. The damn spider is off playing games with the princessa bitch,” Valentino sneered, and your heart sank. Fear coursed through your veins like ice water; the realization hit you hard—he intended to use you in one of those scenes, to thrust you into the depths of humiliation and despair.

“She's a high commodity; I’m sure her soul would be mine after—” Val’s voice trailed off, but you couldn’t grasp what was happening next. One moment, you were trembling in fear, and the next, a whirlwind of chaos erupted. Valentino’s eyes swirled with ominous black and red spirals as the shoot was abruptly canceled, the tension snapping like a frayed wire.

A navy blue jacket was draped over your shoulders, and a firm hand helped you to your feet. “Come with me. You will be working in VoxTech from now on. Understood?” Vox’s voice was steady, but you could only nod, relief flooding through you at the thought of escaping Val’s clutches, at least for now.

You were still ensnared in the web of the Vee’s world, but perhaps you could choose the cranky TV man who seemed more enigmatic than predatory. Maybe you could carve out a semblance of a life, away from the chaos that had become your existence.

Following Vox, you traversed the unfamiliar corridors of Vee’s Tower, finally arriving in a room that felt distinctly different from the others. The walls were lined with large screens displaying chaotic scenes from around hell, and a solitary chair sat in the center, casting a shadow like a throne of power. “W-Where are we? Val never brought me here?” you stammered, confusion clouding your mind.

He hesitated, swallowing hard. Was this place a reflection of his past? Did you really resemble someone he had lost? The thought flickered through his mind, but Vox regained his composure and sat down, turning on the myriad of cameras that monitored the chaos outside. “This is my office. You will grow acquainted with it, as you will be my personal assistant.”

A wave of dread washed over you. So you weren’t free from the chains of servitude; you were merely swapping one form of obedience for another. His gaze flicked toward you, and he must have seen the pain etched in your features because he added, “You will do nothing more for me than paperwork, gather intel, and help set up schedules.” He motioned for you to leave, his tone dismissive yet oddly gentle.

“This floor has eight unused apartments. Choose one and message me; I will unlock it for you, and you can create your own secure pin to come and go.” His words felt like a lifeline, yet the way he avoided looking at you left a strange knot in your stomach.

Nodding, you stepped out, still wrapped in his jacket, a strange comfort amidst the chaos. You wandered the floor until you found a room that resonated with you—a sanctuary away from the dirt and grime of your past. After messaging Vox, you entered, marveling at the unexpected upgrade. How had you managed to elevate your circumstances so easily?

Lying back on the bed, you gazed up at the ceiling, trying to piece together the fragments of your new life. You were seeking refuge, had become Val’s plaything, narrowly escaped abuse because of a cranky TV man who wouldn’t even look at you. What an absurd turn of events—what the hell was happening?

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you changed into comfortable clothes, the tension of the day beginning to ebb away. Just as sleep began to weave its way into your mind, a soft chime from your phone startled you awake. Vox had messaged you, detailing the new daily routine you would follow to assist him. 

Setting an alarm, you nestled into bed, uncertainty swirling in your thoughts like a restless storm. What would the next day bring? Would it be more of the same, or perhaps a glimmer of hope in this hellish landscape? As you drifted off, the questions lingered, weaving through your dreams like shadows, leaving you on the brink of something you couldn’t yet comprehend.

------------------------Time Skip-------------------------

Vox quickly grew to love your company over the last three years, though Vox knew deep down that you weren’t the woman he had loved in his youth. You were almost her replica—a haunting echo of the past—but with a wilder, more untamed spirit. As he watched you laugh, your eyes sparkling with mischief, he found himself drawn to that wildness even more. It was as if fate had conspired to create you just for him, a masterpiece crafted by your great-grandmother’s whims.

Yet, he never dared to reveal this connection, fearing it might shatter the fragile friendship that had blossomed between you. Yes, friendship—nothing more or less. However, with each passing day, he found himself surrendering to the undeniable truth that he had fallen for you harder than he ever had for your great-grandmother. 

No matter how many times he insisted that he was merely helping an old friend, a beacon of support for someone who had been torn from him, he couldn’t deny the intoxicating pull you had on him. At first, it had been your striking looks that captivated him, but as time wore on, it was your vibrant personality that ensnared his heart. You were everything Vox craved and needed on a biblical level; an irony he chuckled at, considering he hadn’t picked up a Bible since your great-grandmother had left him.

His mind was spiraling, his hypnosis streams were intensifying, and his push for innovative Vox tech was reaching a fever pitch. He even managed to score a narrow victory against Alastor, all thanks to you. How could one person be so perfectly oblivious to the advances he so desperately tried to make?

No one had ever worn his watches, draped themselves in his jackets, or even held his cherished pocket squares—except for you. But a troubling realization swept over him: all the advances he made were rooted in his time period, not yours. Your great-grandmother may have swooned at his charm, but you probably saw him as nothing more than a friend. In that moment, he knew he was utterly doomed.

You genuinely enjoyed working for Vox, relishing the opportunity to utilize your strengths. With a degree in entertainment and public relations, you found it easy to navigate the world of hypnotic persuasion he wielded. You were a wizard at uncovering people’s weak spots, providing Vox with ample ammunition against his personal enemies.

Almost immediately, you had become Vox’s young, gorgeous vixen. You liked the title so much that you gradually stopped using your real name, opting instead for the playful 'V' theme. Yet, Vox never referred to you by that name—always your real name, accompanied by a distant look that gnawed at your insides.

It had taken a year for him to truly see you, another year for him to stop freezing like a computer caught in a loop, and now, in this last year, he finally spoke without those awkward buffering noises. 

You never understood why he had chosen you as his assistant if he struggled to be around you. But you were content, especially since you had escaped Valentino’s grasp. You felt lucky that the exterminations had ceased shortly after you joined Vox. You often reassured yourself that if they ever resumed, you would leave—but the truth was, you were too attached to the enigmatic, awkward TV man.

You couldn’t deny the chemistry crackling between the two of you. He sent sparks racing through your body, igniting your nervous system with a thrilling energy. He was handsome in a classic, old-school way, the type of man your father would approve of—if only they never got to know he was a con artist. 

Every fiber of your being screamed to be with him, to unravel the layers of his soul and understand him in a way that transcended mere friendship. He was smooth-talking, undeniably hot, and invading your dreams more each night, leaving you craving his presence even more. The tension hung thick in the air, a tantalizing promise of what could be, if only you dared to cross the line that separated friendship from something infinitely more profound.

It was utterly embarrassing—sneaking down to the old production studio, heart racing, just to rent out some toys that would let you indulge in your fantasies of being with Vox. He had never once hypnotized you, but you were undeniably under his spell, enchanted by his presence in every way.

“Vox, I got you the meeting with Carmilla about the angelic steel and its reproduction,” you announced, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach. “I also secured a meeting with the health district to discuss the drug you want to utilize.” You had become extra vigilant lately, making a concerted effort to show him your interest. Your skirts grew shorter, your tops had fewer buttons, and your heels reached dizzying heights, showcasing your legs to their best advantage.

You were the death of him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his composure crumbled completely. You were tantalizingly close, yet he felt he couldn’t take advantage of your affections. The scars from his past ran deep; he didn’t want to go through that kind of heartache again. Even if your father couldn’t steal you away like your great-grandmother had been stolen from him, the odd connection to family made him reluctant to risk your bond.

But the way you presented yourself, dressed to entice, sent a tent of desire straining against the fabric of his pants. It felt as though he was being dragged through heaven, hell, and every place in between. He knew you were in hell in your own way, unlike your great-grandmother, but damn, did you have to be so deliciously tempting?

“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be getting off early today due to an issue with Val. If you could make sure the cleaners come in here and do their job properly, I’d appreciate it,” he said, his voice calm and cool, eyes never lifting from the screen. 

He was an enigma, nearly impossible to crack, seemingly showing no interest in you at all. Sighing, you nodded and began clearing his schedule; his fights with Val tended to stretch on longer than they should. You made sure to leave a dinner reminder for him and then headed out to retrieve the cleaning staff.

When you returned, you monitored the cleaning process closely. Vox usually preferred his tech to handle the cleaning, but today he insisted that his computers and TVs needed a “Sinners touch” to avoid any mishaps. You settled into his large chair, humming softly, legs crossed, watching as the young, fish-like boy worked diligently.

Out of the corner of your eye, a faint blue glow caught your attention. Vox was typically meticulous about shutting everything down before leaving, yet this one tab remained open. Half of you wanted to close it and move on with your life, but the other half—the curious, daring part—couldn’t resist the temptation. 

With a deep breath, you opened the screen. A Word document sprawled across the display, pages filled with dates and passages that traced the evolution of technology from its inception to the present. Your heart raced as you scrolled through the text, but then you froze, eyes fixated on the most recent passage. 

It was a detailed account of his current hyperfixation – You. As you read on, the implications began to sink in, filling you with a mix of excitement and dread. What had Vox been planning? And how deeply did it truly involve you? 

‘She was a vision of beauty, captivating in a way that made my heart race and my thoughts spiral into chaos. I found myself wanting to take her, to make her mine in every way possible—over my bed, on the couch, against the cool surface of the counter, or sprawled across my desk. It was a reckless desire, one that threatened to unravel my composure and resolve with each passing glance. I was trying to court her like a proper gentleman, even though every instinct screamed for me to act on the primal urge that surged within me.’

‘What would she think if I finally confessed the truth? The truth of the connection that shimmered between us, electric and undeniable. If I bared my soul, revealing the reason why every time I looked at her, I felt an insatiable longing to claim her and never let her go—would she recoil in fear, or would she lean in closer? Would she despise me for the dark secrets I harbored?’

‘It was a sin, a tangled web of emotions, that I saved her not just because I had to, but because I had once been in love with her great-grandmother. If only it were simple to tell Y/N that my heart had shifted over the years, that the ghost of the past no longer haunted me as I found myself enchanted by her. I needed to steady my racing heart, but the hope of seeing more of Y/N today filled me with both excitement and dread. She had left a dinner reservation for two—was it meant for us, or was it for Val and me? My heart leaped at the possibility that it was for her and I.’

You were in shock. A torrent of questions flooded your mind, each one more bewildering than the last. How did he know your great-grandmother? How had he concealed this attraction so skillfully? The cleaner’s approach broke your reverie, and the scream that escaped your lips echoed through the building, a cacophony of confusion and fear.

With a heavy sigh, you closed everything down, your thoughts still swirling like leaves caught in a wind tunnel. You gently patted the shorter fish boy’s head, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty mirroring your own. As you made your way back to your room, you collapsed onto your bed, the weight of the revelations pressing down on you.

He knew her? You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately rifling through the foggy memories of your childhood, the faded photographs that lined the walls of your mind. Your great-grandmother had passed away when your grandmother was still a child, but her belongings remained—a bittersweet reminder of a life once lived. Vaguely, you recalled a picture that had often sparked your great-grandfather's ire.

Vox was in that picture… Vox, her first love, the man who had been banished by her father, the one your great-grandfather had despised and vowed to protect his family from. He was the specter who haunted your past, a figure you were compared to when you were disowned from the family and stripped of your inheritance.

The realization hit you like a thunderclap, shattering your understanding of everything you thought you knew. How did you feel? The attraction was still there, a flicker of warmth igniting within you as you considered his little habits, the subtle ways he courted you, filling you with butterflies. But could you allow yourself to love him? Would it be wrong to care for him in that way?

You glanced at your tablet, your heart racing as you noticed the dinner reservation was in just forty-five minutes. Swallowing hard, you stood up, a newfound determination coursing through your veins. The only way to truly understand what he made you feel, to unravel this complex web of emotions, was to show up. Normally, these reservations were for Val and him, a ritual of reconciliation, but this time, you would be there for him. For you. 

You moved quickly, the anticipation coursing through your veins as you stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over you like a refreshing embrace. With each drop, you washed away the remnants of your uncertainties, emerging with a renewed sense of purpose. 

Dressing became an art form; you pulled out all the stops to impress Vox. The deep ruby red pumps clicked against the floor as you slipped them on, a bold statement that added height and confidence to your stature. Black frilled lace-topped stockings clung to your legs, accentuating every curve. The navy blue long-sleeved dress hugged your figure just right, revealing just enough to showcase your best assets without losing an air of elegance. You styled your hair to perfection, cascading waves framing your face, while your makeup highlighted your features, making your eyes sparkle like stars.

It had been ages since you had gone to such lengths, not since the days of trying to impress Val, desperate to avoid his inappropriate advances. With a sigh, you shot a quick message to Vox, sharing the restaurant's destination but omitting any mention of Val. Tonight was about you and Vox, and you were determined to make the most of it.

As you stepped out of your door, your Vox Tech security bot awaited you, its sleek design a reminder of the world you inhabited. Vox had insisted on the device escorting you, and as you arrived at the restaurant, your eyes locked with Vox’s as he just arrived as well. Time seemed to pause as you both stood there, taking each other in.

To him, you were radiant, every inch of you exuding beauty and allure. His desires surged within him, overwhelming as he imagined symphonies and angelic choirs serenading your presence in this chaotic world. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but admire his dashing figure. Though a hard day had worn on him, leaving traces of fatigue etched across his handsome features, he maintained an effortless charm. A few buttons of his shirt were undone, his cuffs slightly askew, and in that moment, you realized something profound: tonight, he would be yours, and you would be his, come what may.

A soft smile danced on your lips as you reached for his outstretched arm, feeling a rush of warmth as you entered the restaurant together. The high-end staff treated you like royalty, ushering you to a table draped in elegant linens. Once seated, you glanced up at Vox through your lashes, your expression teasing as you playfully toyed with the rim of your wine glass.

“I know about our family ties…” you said, watching as his eyes widened in surprise, a dark blush creeping across his cheeks. Was he embarrassed that you knew, or perhaps flustered by the undeniable attraction that pulsed between you? 

“I want you to know, connection or not, I feel it all too,” you added, punctuating your statement with a sly wink. His composure faltered, and you could see him short-circuiting, lost in the implications of your words.

Once he regained his composure, a soft smile broke across his face, his eyes flickering nervously as he tried to avoid the luxurious curves that had him entranced. “So this means I can finally stop dancing around and court you more publicly?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his gaze.

You couldn’t help but snort, shaking your head with a smirk. “I think we’ve passed the stage of courting, Mr. Bed, Couch, Counter, and Desk.” Your cheeks warmed at your own boldness, while his face flamed with embarrassment at your teasing. A soft giggle escaped you as you flagged down the waiter, paying for the wine that would accompany your evening.

“Let’s head back to the tower, Vox… let me help you relax after today’s tiring events.” The confidence that surged within you was intoxicating, fueled by the way he looked at you and the undeniable chemistry crackling in the air. 

You had dreamed of this moment, of nights alone together, your hand tucked beneath you in hopes of relief, but it had never been enough. Each day spent near him only deepened your addiction to the awkward yet captivating man. But with the dark, calculating look in his eyes, you knew that from this moment forward, you would be more than satisfied. 

As the evening unfolded, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you—two souls entwined in a dance of desire, ready to explore the depths of your connection, past and present, together. 

A chill raced down your spine as you and he stepped into his work car, the evening air thick with anticipation. He wanted to wait until you were safely hidden away in his condo before his hands roamed your body, but the magnetic pull between you was undeniable. As the engine purred to life, his fingers found their way to your thigh, gently caressing the soft fabric of your stockings. You could feel his gaze on you, hungry and intense, as you breathed heavily, caught in the electrifying moment. He was eager to claim you as his own, to make you his in every sense.

The drive felt like an eternity, each passing second stretching out as his hand danced tantalizingly close to where you craved him most. You were ablaze with desire, the thrill of his touch igniting something deep within you that had lay dormant for far too long. No one had ever made you feel this way—caught between the living and the dead, lost in a whirlwind of longing and need. You were ready to surrender completely to the man beside you, to give him every part of yourself.

When the car finally came to a halt, all semblance of self-control shattered. In one swift motion, he pulled you over the center console and into his lap, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that stole your breath away. One hand tangled possessively in your hair while the other gripped your waist, asserting his dominance in a way that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you.

You mirrored his urgency, your fingers gripping his shoulder and the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth radiating from him. Every kiss, every whisper of his breath against your skin, sent jolts of electricity sparking through your nerves, making you whimper into his mouth. You could feel the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against you, a reflection of the heated chemistry that crackled between you.

With his patience wearing thin, he pulled away, but only long enough to fling open the car door. He was acutely aware of your head as he stepped out, holding you firmly against him, making his way through the throng of Vee staff and personnel. There was no hesitation in his stride; he made it abundantly clear that you were his and his alone, a declaration that sent a thrill coursing through you.

As you rode the elevator, the air thickened with tension and need. He pressed you against the cool metal wall, his lips crashing against yours as he kissed you fervently, over and over again. His hands roamed your body with a glorious sensuality, and you could hear the soft moans and whimpers escaping him, reverberating in your chest like a sweet melody.

When the elevator doors finally opened, it was as if you were stepping into a dream. He swept you up in his arms, never breaking contact with your warmth or your mouth. With a careful grace, he navigated the threshold of his condo, ensuring you never brushed against anything sharp or hard, as if he wanted to preserve this fragile moment forever. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in each other, ready to explore the depths of your desire.

The sensations heightened once you two entered his bedroom as he gently set you on the bed. He was careful to lay you down, slotting himself between your legs. He hummed quietly in the kiss as he enjoyed the feeling and taste of you. You were, finally, his, and he could have you all he wanted here. You offered no protests.

You raked your hands over his arms and chest, slipping behind his back, scratching gently with your nails on any skin you could find. Vox's sounds, the same frequent heat, and need, were identical to yours. Everything begged you to take your clothes off and take him.

Vox pulled away, looking down at you for the first time since tonight's escapades began. A sloppy, lopsided grin was on his face as he moved the hair from your face. "Are you sure you want this doll?"

You gave him one soft nod, and all bets were off. Before you could utter another word, a moan was pulled from your lips as he kissed down your neck and pulled on the base of your hair. Soft pants left you, and you felt the tension pool in your core. How long have you two wanted this?

Sighing softly and pushing into Vox's clothed crotch, he growled low and kissed you roughly. Hands roamed your body, and your dress was slowly unclasped from your body. Your chest became exposed, and the most beautiful red bra he had ever seen was on display upon your delicate body. Even Val's porn stars had nothing on the sight of you half undressed before him.

As if dreams were becoming reality, he shivered as you slowly pushed his jacket off and tugged him down by his dress shirt. Kissing him, you worked on his buttons, running your hands along his torso once it was freed. Both of you shivered in delight and need as the other touched what was finally theirs.

Vox kissed back down your neck, leaving marks all across you, and landed on your breasts. Each one gets a solid mark right on the top where your cleavage sat. His lips teased the sensitive flesh. His arms snaked around you as he lifted you gently to unclasp the bra. Once it was off, he could feel the drool not only on his tongue but his cock head as well.

He hummed in delight as he bowed down and wrapped his blue tongue around one perky bud, the other gaining his talons' attention as he made you mewl for him. He was in heaven—here, right now, was his little heaven with his little angel. He switched between the two buds until they were too sensitive from his menstruation. "V-Vox, please, too much...need more...please..." You didn't mean to sound like a young virgin, but it was all too good to feel any other type of way. Soon, you felt the pressure above you leave as he stood up at the edge of the bed. Gently, he took your leg, resting your foot on his chest. He kissed your ankle and calf, taking your tights from the garter on your thigh. Slowly, he took the garments off and got a perfect sight right up your dress. Your pretty red underwear was stained wet from your need.

"Tell me, Y/N, where do you need me most? What do you need most? Tell me, and I will happily deliver it all to you, doll, whatever you need." He sounded so good saying that. His voice was an octave lower as he was already pussy drunk. You whimpered gently and sighed when he moved on to the next leg, removing the garments

"Need you between my legs Vox, so so many toys...none of them you," Your words sent a spark through him. He now understood today's argument with Val; some toys in the production studio had been missing, and his little Vixen took them. He smiled wide and fell to his knees at the edge of the bed.

"Your wish is my command, doll," He grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him. He shoved your dress up higher on your hips, having it bunch up on your stomach. Slowly, he ran a claw down your clothed heat. With each stroke of his claw, his mouth moved closer from your knee to your core. He always managed to miss where you wanted him most, though.

When you went to complain, however, you were interrupted by the cold sting to your cunt as he ripped the panties off completely. You gasped and cried out when Vox's long slender blue tongue licked a deep stripe up your soaking cunt. "Taste so good, doll, like my own apple pie, so fucking delicious," His menstruations didn't stop there, however, as Vox began to devour you like a man starved.

Your legs spread wider for him as he slotted himself against your cunt. His tongue was making circles on your puffy bud. Your head was thrown back as you grasped onto the bed for dear life. You needed him. Each tongue swirls and thrusts, sending you one step closer to your breaking point. At some point, your legs began to close, and all you could feel was a thread snapping. Vox didn't let up, though. If anything, he abused your clit and sucked you dry further.

When you began to cry and beg for relief, he stopped and pulled up, climbing back on top of you and kissing you hungrily. You could taste yourself on him as you felt his need press against your cunt. You needed more. "Please, Vox, take me, please, please; I need to be full and stuffed."

He thought he had heard angels earlier. He was dead wrong. What he heard then and was now hearing were two completely different planes of reality. He made quick work of his pants and boxers as you resituated on the bed. He slowly crawled back over you, kissing you deeply again. When he got between your legs and slotted himself right where you needed him, you moaned quietly.

Slowly, Vox entered you, both holding your breaths and breathing out together. He was so big, filling you to the brim while you were tight on him. He finally opened his eyes when he bottomed out and saw the most beautiful sight. Your tummy bulged out where his cock sat. Groaning in need, he pushed down on the bump and growled. "Oh, look at this baby, look at how deep I am, I will fill you up so full."

You cried, nodding, holding on to him for dear life. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He felt so thick and full as he abused your cunt with his deliberate speed. However, you knew he was coming to an end as well; he was pent up just as long as you were, and as his hips stuttered, you finally felt it, the whole feeling you had wished for since seeing the TV man.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back, keeping himself slotted in you. He held your hand close, playing with your hair. "Stay with me, Y/N, let me give you everything after life can offer."

You hummed softly and nodded, your eyes growing heavy. Life with Vox would be perfect, and you couldn't have been happier that you, Y/N L/N, got to live the carefree life your great-grandmama once wished for.

[loveandmurders]

What soulmate AU for which slasher ?

First sentence on your wrists with Ghostface:

On your wrist: "You gonna die tonight, love"

On their wrist: "And fuck, of course my soulmate is a serial killer" 

(First discussion over a phone call of course).

Seeing colours for the first time with Tommy:

You didn’t think red would be the first colour you'd ever see.

He didn't think he would ever see colours in his life at all. And you are the brightest thing that ever happened to him, in every ways.

Sharing the same mark with Tiffany:

You were having a sexy shower with her when you both noticed the same little mark on your skin.

And everything made so much sense, especially how quickly you fell for each other.

Feeling each other emotions and physical pains with Jason:

You always knew your soulmate wasn't living a peaceful existence.

But you were both shocked when you felt the knife you stabbed into his side like it was yours and when he felt his hand around your neck like it was his.

After that, he tried to be more careful when he was killing people, so his pain wouldn't be yours.

You can’t hurt or kill each other with Michael:

Michael was about to kill you because you were on his way. Very confused when he realised he just physically couldn't.

On the other hand, you were very glad about it. (You started to like to tease him about it. It always makes him grumpy, though).

Touching/hearing/seeing each other for the first time and realising you are soulmates with Candyman:

You heard his deep and riche voice and knew who he was to you. You were in trance.

He saw your eyes and he never thought he would so deeply fall in love for anyone. All his past was forgotten.

Sharing scars with Bo: 

Vincent was about to tie you up to a chair in his basement when he saw the scars on your wrists. Such a familiar sight so he brought you to his brother instead of killing you.

Bo kissed your wrists every morning and every night. His anger calmed down because you didn't leave his side from that day.

Dreaming of each other with Freddy:

Freddy was very unhappy and confused to see you walking in his world without being in danger.

He was totally pouting when you started to be able to control his dreams. He guessed he had found his own divinity.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [37] - Amaranth

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Art lasts forever.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.

Word Count: 3600

Series Masterlist

The first thing you felt through the warmth of peaceful sleep was the blinding sunrays piercing through the darkness, causing you to make a face and wonder why on earth the curtains were open this early—

Oh.

You weren’t in your room.

A smile curled your lips as you shifted closer to Benedict who looked to be still in deep sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other kept you close to his chest even in his sleep. You had found a couple of soil bags last night to use as pillows along with a very old blanket that you suspected they used to carry the said bags, and thrown it over you. You let your hungry gaze wander down from his handsome face to his perfect torso; he looked like a statue one of his idols would sculpt in Renaissance in such an effortless way that even looking at him made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks burning when you remembered last night.

Well, as it turned out Benedict was right.

It felt absolutely divine.

You nibbled on your lip, dragging your eyes away from him to your surroundings. In daylight, the greenhouse looked so beautiful that it felt as if you were in a dream, making you heave a sigh. You slowly pulled away from him, careful not to wake him up and reached for your shift to put it on. It was dry unlike the rest of your clothes but it was so see-through in the sunlight that if it were any other time you would have never thought of walking around just in that, except that—

Well.

Considering last night, it wouldn’t be a scandal.

You bit down a smile and got off the floor, approaching the Middlemist Red. You still couldn’t believe it was yours, after years and years of dreaming of seeing it at least once in some sort of exhibition, now you could see it anytime you wanted in your own greenhouse. You gently caressed the petals with your fingertip, then checked the soil in the pot to see whether it needed water but it was still damp so you figured it could wait until later in the day. You looked around, taking in the sight.

This was actually yours. All of it.

“I thought you left.”

You looked over your shoulder and turned around to look at Benedict better, your heart skipping a beat as you did. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position with the blanket pooled around his waist, his hair messy as he ran his hand through it, that lopsided grin you loved so much playing on his lips. You took a deep breath to snap yourself out of the haze, then leaned back to the shelf.

“Well this is my greenhouse,” you said airily, motioning between you before pointing at him. “So hypothetically, if anyone was to leave…”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “Mm, should I leave then?”

“No,” you said with a grin. “In fact, I don’t think either of us should. Let’s just stay here for the rest of our lives.”

He stretched out his arm as if offering you his hand. “Will you come here please?”

You pretended to think about it, then approached him with a giggle that turned into a squeal when he grabbed you by the waist to pull you to his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart slamming against your ribcage as he leaned in to kiss you, making you heave a happy sigh.

“Good morning my love,” he muttered to your lips, stroking your cheekbone and coaxing a smile from you.

“Good morning.”

“Remind me again, why are you wearing clothes?”

You let out a small laugh. “For decorum, obviously,” you teased him. “I mean surely you cannot disagree with propriety, can you?”

“I absolutely can,” he said, stealing a kiss from you as his hand trailed up your leg, pushing the skirt of your shift up, awakening fire on your skin. “To hell with decorum.”

You felt nearly intoxicated as a giggle climbed up your throat and he rolled you over to get on top of you, settling between your legs, holding himself up on one arm to look down at you with a soft smile.

“God, I’ll never be able to paint this…” he murmured and you tilted your head, stroking your fingertips over his chest, right over his heart.

“Well I suppose you’ll have to settle for the feeling rather than the depiction,” you tried to joke, stealing a look at him before the thought hit you, making you furrow your brows. He knew you too well not to notice it, so he pulled back just a little.

“What is it?”

“This doesn’t change things, does it?”

“What do you mean?”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“You won’t take it back now that I…” you trailed off. “You won’t stop loving me now that I said I love you?”

That fond look appeared in his blue eyes again and he smiled at you, then reached to your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest, letting you feel his strong heartbeat.

“This life and beyond, remember?” he murmured. “I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.”

You pressed your lips together and he tilted his head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but I just don’t see how,” you muttered. “I mean I’ve— I’ve been terrible to you.”

“No you haven’t.”

You scoffed. “Ben.”

“What?” he said with a small laugh. “You haven’t.”

“Just yesterday I accused you of cheating on me.”

“I mean it brought us here to this so I’m not complaining,” he said, wiggling his brows and drawing a burst of laughter from your lips.

“No but ever since we met, I’ve been…” you mumbled. “Not nice to you.”

“You were.”

You shot him a look and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“It’s a subjective matter.”

You looked around the greenhouse before turning your glances to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Why did you do all this for me when you didn’t even know I was in love with you?”

He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.

“I didn’t do this so that you would fall in love with me,” he said. “I did it because I want you to be happy. Simple as that.”

You felt as if your heart was melting and you leaned up to kiss him but the sound of a movement by the door reached you, making Benedict roll off you to shield you with his body as soon as the door opened and Mr. Binsted walked in.

“Oh—my apologies!” he exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on you two, then he looked up, his whole face going red. “Sir. Ma’am.”

“Mr. Binsted,” Benedict said, trying to keep a straight face as if nothing was out of the ordinary while you stayed behind him, your cheeks burning. “Good morning.”

“Hello,” you murmured, still hiding behind Benedict and Mr. Binsted nodded, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.

“Good morning, I’ll just—come back later,” he stammered and left, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You buried your face to Benedict’s shoulder, gripping his arm tightly and letting out a whine while he started laughing.

“Oh my God…” you said. “Oh my God, I can never look him in the eye again.”

Benedict tried to stop his laughter and shook his head, then turned to you.

“Could’ve been worse,” he commented and grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you let out a clear laugh despite yourself. “Besides, look on the bright side.”

You raised your brows, still smiling. “And what is that?”

“Well you see my love, now…” he dipped his head to brush his lips against yours, that familiar fire spreading through your veins as his hand pushed your skirt up. “Now we know no one will be disturbing us for a while.”

                                         *

If somebody told you that one day you would have the greenhouse of your dreams, including the rarest flower in the world and you would spend the whole day away from it, you would have laughed in their face.

Yet in your defense, Benedict had a way of convincing you.

It felt like you were put under some sort of spell, that fire only he managed to breathe into life taking over you until the only thing in your mind was him. After leaving the greenhouse, you had every intention of going back once you had some breakfast but before you knew it, you both found yourselves in his bed.

You could not believe you had denied yourself the bliss for so long when you could’ve been doing this for months and more importantly, you couldn’t believe you were still hungry for him even after spending hours in the bed with him, completely lost in the pleasure.

And the worst part? You actually had to step away from his room and from him so that your maid could do your hair for tonight, for Gordon’s gala.

For some reason, every single act except the marital act felt entirely unnecessary to you now that you had gotten a taste of it.

Paula retrieved her hands from your hair, letting you look in the mirror to check your bun and you turned your head, then smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“Of course ma’am,” she said as you stood up, and put your corset over your shift. She went behind you to put the laces into the hoops but you turned your head when you heard the knock on the door.

“Y/N?”

A bright smile warmed your lips. “Come in Ben!”

The door opened and he stepped inside, and you turned to Paula.

“You may leave, thank you.”

Paula curtsied and left the room, and you grinned at Benedict, leaning back to the vanity.

“You look too handsome,” you said, your lips pulled into a small pout as your gaze wandered over him. Unlike you, he looked very much ready to go outside and attend this gala you two were expected in, yet the only thing you wanted to do was to drag him to bed, outside world be damned.

And judging by the mischievous look in his blue eyes, he shared the sentiment.

“Let’s just skip this one,” he said, approaching you and your jaw dropped, an exaggerated shock clear on your face.

“We made a promise,” you reminded him. “It’s Gordon’s gala.

He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and you giggled, turning around.

“Help me?” you asked airily, watching him on the mirror a playful smirk curled his lips, then his hands went to the laces of your corset. A giddy laugh climbed up your throat as you reached back to grab at his wrist when you realized the corset getting even looser.

“Lace up Ben, not unlace.”

“We can just tell them we had something to do.”

“Lace up,” you teased him with a small smile and he heaved a dramatic sigh, then tugged at the laces, the corset getting tighter around your body. The memory of earlier today flashed before your eyes, with his tight grip around your waist and you felt your cheeks burn, the familiar fire coming to life at your lower stomach.

“You’re killing me, you know that?” he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss on the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered close for a moment before you tried to see through the haze of desire, willing yourself to turn around to look up at him.

“I owe Gordon,” you said, playing with the lapels of his jacket. “For coming to my aunt’s ball. Besides, is he not your hero in art?”

“He is,” he said, one hand playing with the front ribbon of your corset absentmindedly and you entwined your fingers with his. He raised your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making your stomach do a pleasant flip.

“What if his painting tonight is a masterpiece and you miss it?” you taunted him and he scoffed.

“I have the most beautiful masterpiece in front of me right now,” he said. “I’m not interested in anything else.”

A fire swept over your cheeks and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.

“You remember what you said about me being the death of you?” you asked. “Now to think of it, I think we might have gotten it backwards.”

                                              *

There was no wonder why everyone in the ton was competing rather ruthlessly for the invitations for Gordon’s gala, because as far as you could tell, the guests only consisted of his very close friends. When you and Benedict walked in, you couldn’t help but notice that you had seen most of these people at the parties Benedict had taken you to, which meant the majority of them were artists.

Not that you had any chance to talk to them. Ever since the beginning of the gala, while waiting for Gordon to unveil the painting in the middle of the room, you and Benedict had been inseparable. Perhaps it was good that only a handful of people who were more open about public displays of affection were here with you because if it were any other ball or social outing, you were certain you would have been criticized and made to Lady Whistledown’s newest edition about your lack of decorum, and yet you couldn’t find it in you to care.

This daze you found yourself in his presence didn’t seem to be going away, and thankfully he seemed to have the exact same issue.

“What happens though?” you asked, comfortable in Benedict’s arms while he nuzzled into your hair, his fingertips running up and down your spine while you looked at the paintings on the walls. “There’s the gala, and then they put the painting in a museum straightaway?”

“In Gordon’s case yes,” he said, “It’s already sold I’m guessing.”

“The painting tonight?”

“Mm hm.”

“But it’s the gala.”

“Buyers see it before the ton,” he said with a smile. “And considering how famous he is, I’m willing to bet multiple museums and collectors climbed all over each other to get it, it must’ve been sold within minutes.”  

You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“And are you excited to see it?” you asked. “The painting?”

“If you asked me before yesterday, I would have been,” he admitted. “Now, I don’t care much about it.”

“You’re an artist!”

“I’m a husband as well, and that side of me weighs much more at the moment,” he said and looked around. “You know, I’m quite certain Gordon has guest rooms.”

You tried to contain your laughter. “Shh!”

“No I’m serious, because there’s still time until—”

“Did you two not come here from the same house?” Henry’s voice cut him off, making you and Benedict turn your heads and then Benedict buried his nose to the top of your hair, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you two were alone. “Was there some sort of war and you just got back while I wasn’t looking?”

“Hello Henry.”

“Y/N,” he greeted you back with a teasing smile while Benedict rested his chin on top of your head. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt this, but I need to borrow him for a moment. Ben, Mr. Allingham is here.”

“Hm?” Benedict asked after a moment as if he was having a hard time focusing just like you and Henry blinked a couple of times.

“Mr. Allingham?” he repeated. “One of the directors of the Academy? Are you—is he alright?”

You bit back a smile and shrugged your shoulders. “Oh I’d say he’s more than alright.”

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” Henry said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from you gently and you covered your lips to hide your grin.

“Henry, I was—”

“With your wife yes, she’ll be there after you’re done talking to Allingham. Artists in love, honestly…” Henry said as they both walked to the other side of the gallery and you looked around, then caught the side of Margery and Lucy. You took a glass of champagne from the footman, then approached them.

“Oh hello Y/N!”

“Hello,” you smiled at them. “Um—terribly sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to thank you, Margery.”

She raised her brows and gave you a small smile. “The surprise?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a wink while Lucy looked between you two.

“What surprise?”

“Benedict had a surprise for Y/N, I happened to know a person who could help,” she said airily. “I’m glad you liked it. Consider it my apology for all those stupid rumors about him and me.”

“It’s beyond me how anyone could ever believe those.” Lucy commented and you shifted your weight, nodding fervently.

“I know,” you said with a scoff, waving a hand in the air. “Complete nonsense, I doubt anyone actually believed it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,” you heard Gordon’s voice and the chatter of the crowd ceased immediately. You saw him making his way to the covered painting in the middle of the gallery and everyone followed him.

“Let’s see the painting first and then I have so much to tell you,” Margery said, squeezing your hand before Lucy winked at you and pulled her towards the rest of the crowd. You felt someone touching the small of your back and Benedict pressed a kiss on your temple.

“Come on,” he said, gently leading you closer to the painting and you entwined your fingers with his, leaning your head to his arm when you came to a stop. Gordon smiled at you two, then cleared his throat and turned to the guests.

“I’ve always thought a painting should speak for itself rather than the artist speaking for it,” he said. “But I feel confident in saying that love continues to inspire each and every one of us, may it be our actions or art. Therefore, I’m glad to share The Artist and the Muse with you.”

With that, he pulled the cover off of the painting and the crowd gasped, a round of applause rising soon after. You tilted your head and stepped closer to the painting, a slight frown furrowing your brows.

There was no wonder Gordon was a living legend in the art world, it was such a beautiful painting that it almost took you by surprise. The two figures in the garden under the moonlight seemed to be in an embrace, their faces hidden but you didn’t even need to see their faces to know that they were in love. You had no idea how Gordon had managed to depict it, but anyone who so much as laid eyes on the painting would be able to tell this was some sort of an escapade from the crowd, as if those figures were the only lovers left in the world.

“How did he…?” Benedict breathed out and you looked up at him.

“He really is insanely talented,” you commented. “I mean I feel as if they’re familiar, I don’t get that feeling from many paintings.”

Benedict turned to look at you better as if trying to see whether you were jesting.

“I mean I’d assume so,” he said. “Considering we’re looking at ourselves.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

“Coleshill Ball,” Benedict said, motioning at the painting. “That’s the garden, that’s…that’s the gown you were wearing. We stepped outside for a moment, remember? Danced in the garden?”

Your jaw dropped as the memory flashed through your mind. Benedict was right, it was all familiar; the garden, the gown, the scenery itself. That was the night where you had apologized to Benedict and you two had danced in the garden, with him holding you close, away from the ton and their nonsense almost like a shelter.

Gordon had told you, way before tonight.

The storm and the shelter weren’t separate things as it turned out.

“Well you two look rather shocked,” Gordon’s voice snapped you out of it and Benedict let out a laugh.

“Gordon, is that…”

“You, yes,” he said. “Not to worry, I will never tell people it’s you. I just happened to be looking out of the window, desperate to get away from the ton and all that chatter and I saw you two dancing and…well, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how inspiration works Ben. Y/N, I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head fervently.

“No,” you said. “God no, not at all. I…I don’t know what to say, Gordon. It's an honor.”

Gordon bowed his head.

“It’s not the last painting that will have you as its subject I’m sure,” he smiled, nodding in Benedict’s direction. “I’d better go and say hello to Allingham, if you’ll excuse me. Enjoy the gala.”

With that, he walked away from you and Benedict exhaled, still in disbelief. You stepped into his embrace, keeping your eyes on the painting and he dipped his head to kiss the top of your hair.

“You know, Gordon is a legend,” he muttered. “Which means this painting will be gazed upon for centuries.”

“So will yours Ben,” you said as you rested your head on his arm, heaving a sigh. “And I don’t know. I still like your paintings better.”

Chapter 38

[tumblingghosts]

eurylochus time travel [snippet]

(i am going to add time travel to every fandom i am in, so help me-)

Eurylochus knows this is where it ends.

He knows he will not be returning to Itheca from the moment Odysseus is presented with that choice, from the moment Zeus tells him to choose. His captain, his king, his brother turns slowly—there is already grief in his eyes. He is mourning them, even before he opens his mouth to say the words: “I have to see her again.”

“But we’ll die,” says Eurylochus. He is resigned, more than anything. His anger is muted, and he feels oddly detached from the outraged protests that are cropping up around him. Odysseus has made his decision, and he understands.

Eurylochus’s own words come back to haunt him: You must carry all the blame! 

And he knows that Odysseus’s mind will not be changed.

Eurylochus is still, as the rest of the crew charges forward, weapons raised, fearful and enraged. This was their captain, who had led them to victory in Troy, who had salvaged their crew after the cyclops, who had saved them from Circe, who had sacrificed them at Scylla—and now, he was casting aside the rest of them. Eurylochus is a stone in a river, with the water rushing past, with the crew bumping his shoulders in their haste ahead.

Odysseus’s expression does not change.

He looks past the rest of the men—his men, his men whose lives he had given up for his own—at meets Eurylochus’s gaze. He does not speak a word, but Eurylochus thinks he can hear what he might say: I’m sorry.

Eurylochus does not know what words Odyssus sees in his eyes.

Perhaps it is: I understand.

Or: I hate you. Traitor. Deserter. Murderer.

Or: I love you. My king. My captain. My brother.

In those final moments, Eurylochus hopes it might be: I am sorry as well.

And the clouds converge in a divine, unavoidable, cataclysmic storm.

---

Eurylochus thinks he knows what to expect from death.

He and the rest of the crew had ventured into the Underworld. Eurylochus had seen Polites, had seen the faces of all the men they had lost. He would be another face in the ocean of the dead, another soul drifting in the shadowy realm, seeking solace in the company of those who had perished before him.

His afterlife looks like the crew that he had poured his life into. It is a kind sight, one with no starving friends, no tragedies that they had been forced to face. Many of them are familiar, but Eurylochus is first approached by Polites, the smile on his face as sure as the sun shining upon them all past clear skies.

“Will you not join the celebration?” asks Polites. He waves an arm broadly, to the men deep in their cups, before offering him a glass of wine. Polites nudges him until he accepts, amicably making conversation before he wanders off to mingle elsewhere.

What nice illusions death brings, Eurylochus thinks. 

Eurylochus’s sense of peace is disrupted when he glances down at his hazy reflection in his rippling drink. He reaches up to his face, to un-sunken cheeks and tireless eyes, and feels unease creeping up his spine. Eurylochus looks around him, to the unbroken ship he stands upon, to the fleet that is sailing adjacent, to the six hundred men indulging in a joyous victory—they had all been in high spirits after Troy, when the prospect of home was an expectation, not a fitful dream.

Then, his gaze falls upon someone who would not have joined in him the Underworld so soon. Odysseus looks younger, or perhaps it is simply because he is unburdened. He has not been aged by the stresses forced upon him, engaged in a conversation with Polites. Eurylochus had not seen Odysseus so carefree since—oh, he thinks. Since before the cyclops had dealt the blows that had killed their men and their morale.

And Eurylochus realizes: this is not what death is.

Eurylochus curses himself for allowing his mind to be enraptured by the foolish tale it had initially spun. Death is not an isle of happiness; the Underworld had been a grim affair. It had been their men trapped in their last moments—that fear that would never leave them, their soul bared for them to see, in the eternity that they would remain. 

Polites had been optimistic until his end, and in his unending spirit that would linger in those depths they had crossed to reach the prophet. But Polites had not been like this—not in what Eurylochus had just witnessed, had just interacted with. Polites had only been so bright in his memories. 

But this was far more vivid than a memory.

If Eurylochus was not dead…perhaps it was divine intervention. It must be. How could he explain living beyond the storm that had thundered down upon them all? He had died there, yet he was not dead any longer. He was not on the isle of Helios any longer. He was long before then, for reasons unknown. But what being would dare surpass a punishment delivered by the king of gods, the thunder bringer and lightning wielder himself? 

Eurylochus decides that he would rather not find out.

(...aaaand that all i've got for now, but i'll reblog this with an ao3 link when i finish up the full fic :D)

[yandere-paramour]

First Time with Vivien - Part 2

You pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on him, answering his question without words. Vivien returns the kiss, reaching down to circle your hole a few times before trying to push a finger in. Your orgasm has considerably relaxed you, and with a generous amount of lube and some patience, he is able to get two fingers inside. He peppers your face in kisses, asking you to please "Relax for him" and let the tension leave your muscles as he works to stretch you gently. As much as he would like to feel your tightness wrapped around him, your comfort comes first.

When he is able to fit three fingers inside with little but a twitch of mild discomfort from you, he deems you ready. He puts on a condom (that was a non-negotiable for you) with a quick and practiced motion, also taking the liberty to slather himself with lube, just in case. Pulling out a smaller pillow you never noticed he had, he wedges it under your hips for a better angle.

He rolls over on top of you, his cock safely nestled between you two. He uses one hand to position himself and ensure proper aim, and the other to keep his body weight off you. He asks if you're ready, looking you straight in the eyes. He wants to watch your face as he enters you.

When you confirm your readiness, he gives you a quick kiss and slowly starts to push inside. Vivien stares at you as you throw your head back, moaning. Judging by how much his instincts wanted this, he knew it would feel good, but he never expected how warm you would be, how wet and slick it would be, how tight you would feel around him. No desperate middle-of-the-night thrusting into his own fist, no pocket pussy, no wet dream that ended with him awake, sticky, and yearning would ever compare to this, being nestled firmly within his Darling, his angel, his sweetheart, the reason he finds the courage to face the world each day.

The thought of this brought tears to his eyes, and a few ended up rolling down his face to splash onto your chest. This is all so much for him and he doesn't know how much more joy his heart can take. He licks the tears away, the two salt solutions mixing into a briny fluid he will never get enough of.

His thrusts start slow and gentle, but soon he can't take it anymore. The soft, loving strokes turn fast and deep, and you can feel every one of his seven inches. Whenever he pulls back, at least one inch of him is sheltered safe and sound inside of you at all times, making sure he can use his hands to stimulate you or hold your hand, whichever he thinks is best. This is what he needs, the stimulation he craves, and from the looks of your moaning and the way you lock your legs around his waist, you needed this too.

He babbles like a fool, telling you how sexy, how divine, how you were perfectly made to fit his cock, just like a lock and key. He spills about how long he has waited for this, and how all those nights following you home to make sure you got inside safely were worth it. He tells you he would die and kill for you, and that anyone who threatened you would die an agonizing death. He swears on his life that he will be a loving and attentive and selfless lover and husband to you, and his tears fall down his face with the rhythm of his hips as he fucks you with everything he has.

Vivien is a healthy young man with incredible stamina. His balls are heavy and swollen, aching to finally get some release, but he won't allow it. He angles himself perfectly to hit the sweet spots inside you, ensuring that you come on his cock at least twice before he gets anything for himself.

When he's ready, it only takes three deep strokes for him to explode. He lets out a strangled moan/shriek as he comes, trying as hard as he can to empty himself deep inside you. You were serious about the condom and he respects that, but that doesn't mean he can't fantasize about your belly swollen with his child. His seed is white and thick, and he produces so much that the condom is almost full to bursting. A quick feel below his shaft begets shock on your end; he's still not empty after all that.

He is careful when he pulls out; he knows after all that vigorous activity that you might be sore. He gently extracts himself from the condom before tying up his swimmers and rolling them under the bed with suspiciously crusty socks to deal with later. He is covered in sweat and still breathing hard, but the hearts in his eyes are firmly trained on you as he lays next to your tired form.

He cups your face in his hands, trailing his fingers over all the marks he made. With tears in his eyes, he asks if he hurt you, if he should've been more gentle for your first time, if you enjoyed it. For the 70th time, he thanks you for the opportunity, but this time, looking up at you with watery, pleading eyes, he adds something about hoping to receive the opportunity again someday.

His face lights up when you say yes, and more tears run down his face. He snatches another condom from the 36-ct box on his nightstand and rips it open with his teeth.

This man, the man you love, the man with hair pointing in every direction, your fluids dried around his mouth, and his cock starting to stand at attention once more. He is looking like that feral animal once again, like a beast ready to flip you on your stomach and take you from behind. Then he gives you that hopeful smile, and he is Vivien again, and he asks "How about now?"

You are covered in marks that will be difficult to hide from coworkers, leaking so much lubricant that it is starting to pool onto the new sheets, and worn out after three orgasms back to back. You want nothing more than a hot bath and some sleep, but something in those worshipping red eyes that look at you only with adoration makes you say "Yes."

[dandelion-blues]

#7 What if...

Kronos was a somewhat good grandpa?

Percy couldn't say he was relieved when Luke took that knife to himself, there was too much pain in death for that to be the case.

But nonetheless, in that deep seated exhaustion that wove in his very bones, Percy just wanted everything to be over.

Then, as Luke lay dying, his bright blue eyes seared into Percy and made him promise to not forget about the demigods, to make the gods be better.

Percy knew his job wasn’t yet done, because as Luke took his last breath, the shadows overtook the throne room. The hearth just mere embers, and a magical laugh echoed around the chambers.

Annabeth was crying over Luke’s corpse and didn't seem to notice anything wrong in her grief, but Percy did. He always noticed, even though Annabeth would most likely disagree.  She does call him Seaweed Brain after all. But just because Percy doesn't speak up about what he notices doesn’t mean he's dumb.

It's why, when his instincts screamed at him, he raised his sword just as a great metal scythe came sweeping down at him.

“Oh, grandson. I long since outgrow that boy's body, but you fought brilliantly. But now I am back at full power, you will not be able to stop me as you are. Still, for you to not only sense my strike, but stop it… I knew you were special. You really should have joined my side,” Kronos says, his words like honey, as he presses his scythe down upon Percy’s sword. Golden cracks were seeping from Kronos’ bronze skin, showing his divinity leaking through.

Percy snarled, his green eyes blazing with fury, “I'd rather die!”

And Percy looked over to Annabeth for help, but she was not moving, her tears frozen in time on her cheeks.

Percy froze in fear, his heart pounding. Kronos was no longer in Luke's body and his powers restricted. Kronos had his own body now, and his abilities were restored.

However, Percy’s freezing was a fatal mistake, as Kronos pressed on with more force forcing Percy’s sword from his hand.

Percy looked up, his eyes wide in fear as he stared in Kronos golden orbs.

Except as Percy’s sword came clanging to the ground and Kronos swung his scythe. The titan leveled the blade just against his throat.

Kronos croons, “Don’t worry grandson. I couldn’t possibly kill you when I see so much of myself and Rhea in your eyes.”

Percy startles and flinches as Kronos touches Percy’s face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Percy says, but then he feels a pinch on the back of his neck, and everything fades to black.

The last thing he hears is Kronos’ voice comforting him…

~~~

Kronos at first hated all these mortal pests that had the blood of gods in their veins.

Mortals weren’t worthy of such a gift.

Unfortunately, Kronos needed to play along with the pests' plans in order to revive.

However, how he started to view these pests, or rather just one pest, changed when he met the son of his Poseidon, his grandson, Perseus Jackson.

Perseus was different then the other pests - demigods. He was just twelve when Kronos first slipped in his dreams, and already Pereus was powerful, defiant, but then Kronos saw his eyes, Rhea's eyes. Kronos could barely stomach it when he swallowed Poseidon, his son with Rhea's eyes.

But now it seems that another inherited her eyes. The one who would be the doom or savior of Olympus. And should die when he was sixteen.

No, this one would not be the one to fulfill the prophecy. He couldn't be.

Kronos sent the boy nightmares, hoping he would pray to his father. That Poseidon would scue the boy. Except that never happened.

And so the next thing that Kronos could do was set his vessel to poison the daughter of Zeus, so a quest would be sent and the Golden Fleece would be retrieved to not only help heal him, but the daughter of Zeus as well, so she would be the one to fulfill the prophecy.

Of course, everything went downhill from there and that daughter of Zeus ran away from the prophecy and gave it to his grandson.

Huh? When did Kronos start thinking of Perseus as his grandson? From the moment he saw Rhea's eyes.

And after his grandson saved Artemis and by holding Atlas’ weight the gods voted to kill his grandson!

As if he hasn't already saved them and proven himself before!

It made Kronos resolve to tear Olympus down all the more.

And so, even as he had to fight his grandson to do so, he would, for Perseus for power.

Of course no one but Kronos himself knew that he would never mortally injure the boy. It's why when his scythe, which is said to suck the life from one's soul, struck, Perseus was merely fatigued.

And Kronos regularly asked for updates on how Perseus is doing from that daughter of Aphrodite.

It's how he found out Perseus’ powers were growing every day, he was long on his way to ascending.

Oh, and how that daughter of Athena was trying to shackle his grandson to mortality by seducing Perseus of all things. As if that girl would ever be good enough for his grandson! She, he always calls him stupid, and tests him at every opportunity. No! Kronos would not stand for that!

Then, the final battle came. Unfortunately his spy turned traitor and died, but it didn't matter because the battle lines were drawn. And Perseus was practically glowing in his divinity.

It would be soon!

Perseus made his choice, but it was too late to stop Kronos, for he was already healed.

And Kronos fought Perseus one on one. The boy didn't even notice that he glowed, his veins golden. Too fueled by anger to stop and think why he could still move when Kronos stopped time, and that daughter of Athena did not.

Unfortunately, when he noticed that time was stopped all around him, the boy froze, and Kronos took the advantage.

And when Kronos saw the wide eyed fear in those green eyes he reassured him that he would not kill him. How could he, when he came to care for the boy?

However, Perseus startles and flinches as Kronos goes to comfort the boy by face gently, pulling black strands behind his ears.

“Hmm?” Kronos hums, knowing the boy is too brainwashed by the gods and too young to understand, “Don’t worry you’ll understand in time. For now just sleep, and we’ll celebrate later when I discipline my kids.”

“Stop-” Perseus says, but Kronos swiftly pinches a nerve on the boy's neck, and the boy slumps forward into his open arms.

Kronos whispers to his grandson comfortably and holds him like a little one to his chest, “Don't worry, I'll take care of you, my grandson.”

Notes:

Whelp! At least Kronos doesn't want Percy to die. Maybe he'll even do alright with being the new prince of the Titans.

First - Previous - Next "What if...?"

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 7 Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand

They were gorgeous.

As soon as they entered the club, all eyes turned to them and Y/N was no exception.

Normally she was supposed to meet a date organized by colleagues, who were already very late but had written to her saying that they would be here soon.

It wouldn't have bothered her at first if they didn't come, Y/N had accepted out of politeness so that the others would stop bothering her with it, but since the couple arrived, it didn't matter at all.

Near the bar, the woman was ordering a drink, keeping a hand on her companion's shoulder, who was holding her by the waist, his gaze crossing the whole room.

When his eyes met Y/N's, he displayed a huge smile that made her tremble. He then whispered something in the woman's ear, who turned to look at her too.

Although fascinated, Y/N was too intimidated by all this attention, suddenly considering that her empty glass deserved to be observed more than anything else.

It was ridiculous anyway to hope for something with such creatures. Dressed in a long yellow embroidered coat that almost looked like a dress, the man was stunningly beautiful, and next to him the woman with her long hair that seemed of divine origin.

Already with just one of them, nothing would have happened, they wouldn't have even seen her, but the two together ? It would only be a sweet dream.

Y/N looked at the time, then at the door, waiting for her date to arrive. If they ended up coming, even if they would inevitably be a disappointment from now on, and if they finally stood her up, she could leave earlier.

"Good evening, little sun."

The purr of that deep voice made her tremble again, because even before she raised her head, Y/N understood who was talking to her.

Her smile as delighted as her companion's, the woman put a full glass on the table, before sitting down next to her. The man seemed to hesitate, between staying with her, and taking the seat on the other side, thus encircling Y/N.

"Lover, don't be stupid." the woman sneered, pulling him by the arm. "You have to excuse Oberyn, he doesn't think before he acts."

"Never. I would never have spoken to you if I did, Ellaria, and we wouldn't be talking to this little sun."

"I… I'm waiting for someone."

"For a while, it seems ? Making such a charming thing wait is simply unacceptable. Allow us to keep you company until this boor arrives."

"Oh. Yes, why not."

If her date finally arrived, Y/N didn't even notice, too busy drinking in Oberyn and Ellaria's words. At first cautious, so as not to scare her, they had ended up getting quite dangerously close, and now he had a hand on her thigh, while she was glued to her arm.

It had only been a few hours and Y/N felt like she had known them forever, totally under their spell. So much so that their sometimes red eyes or their strangely long canines didn't bother her at all.

Oberyn placed a kiss on her neck, before staring at Ellaria.

"I wanted to taste the sun, but maybe we could extend this night."

"I thought the same thing, lover, but only if Y/N agrees. You know that consent is sexy."

"I consent." Y/N said quickly, closing her eyes.

"Hmm. Adorable. So tempting. But we're not talking about the same thing."

"Nothing stops us from offering a pleasant evening to our sun, and to tell her about the rest later."

She didn't understand at all what they were talking about at the time, but Y/N didn't care. She was truly ready to accept anything, as long as it allowed her to spend as much time as possible with them.

So of course, when the proposition was to stay until the end of time, she didn't hesitate for long.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Eight

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings |​​​​​​​ +18, yandere themes, smut noncon, teasing, forced nudity, humiliation, glove returns, insults, slapping, fingering, tears, forced pleasure, finger licking, rough penetration, vaginal sex, orgasm denial, contraceptive use, Jimin becomes a lust demon, MC loses patience and explodes, triggering content, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Here is the new chapter of Dark Moon ❤️ Let me know what you think, it is always a joy for me to know if you like the story 🥰

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

He passed the hallway that divided them with a light step, darkness engulfing the house in deadly silence, he kept thinking of her as a chill slid down his spine, he thought of her small, soft body, his to break in any way.

When he reached the bedroom, the doorknob lowered under the pressure of his fingers, opened without making a squeak. Nothing in that house seemed willing to help the young woman.

He inhaled into the air the sweet scent of woman there, it was floral and honeyed, something that made a low, deep growl vibrate in his chest.

Like a predator he reached for his prey as silently as possible, moving through the darkness, his friend, this reminded him of the night of the abduction, just as then he watched her sleeping blissfully in a bed that did not belong to her, illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps filtering through the ajar window, her face softly stretched in an angelic expression angered the man, who contrary to his emotional state felt his cock harden.

He bit his lower lip as he climbed onto the bed he had personally chosen for her; he had taken care of every little detail and she should have simply thanked him.

When Y/N lifted his heavy eyelids in the darkness of the room he knew immediately that something was wrong. She felt foreign moisture on her neck, but it took her a few seconds longer to connect well and understand the actual situation.

Jimin broke away from the delicate line of her neck to imprison her in his lust and resentment-laden eyes, with a small, shrill cry she tried to evade the man, who in response imprisoned her in his strong arms.

"Be quiet," he hissed harshly, watching the young woman's chest heave at a terrified, dizzying pace, reminded him of a pawing mare, and with a grin unfastened the first button of her pajamas from one of the buttonholes.

"What are you going to do?" she swallowed breathlessly, feeling the chill night air at every flap of skin let loose from the constriction of the warm fabric.

"I'm going to take what's mine," he murmured, grasping between his teeth a pinkish, delicate pearl that soon turned scarlet following a bite that made her scream in pain; she wriggled in his arms, trying to escape, and Jimin buried, if possible, even more his head between the woman's breasts, letting his warm, delicate tongue soothe those suffocating sensations, repeatedly striking the offended, stiff tip, he sucked the rest of the soft skin insistently, causing small, stinging bruises to surface, the young woman looked up at the ceiling of her room in shock, everything was happening so quickly that the anxiety in her chest erupted into yet another panic attack.

Y/N grabbed him by the shoulders, putting force to push him away, and her nails penetrated the man's beautiful skin, which far from contentedly pulled away from the girl's now battered breasts.

His black eyes were dipped in fire and soon Y/N realized his fury, at first she hadn't noticed anything, too caught up in her own personal despondency, but now she could clearly see the torment encased in the irises of the man who towered over her like a statue of pure marble, a slap torn the skin of her lower lip, leaving her breathless.

With his jaw tensed Jimin nailed his hips to the girl's, making her aware of his complete nakedness, the woman lost a beat, at which point she burst into tears, remembering when the man had forced her to take him in her mouth, she didn't think it would happen again so soon, God ... she had even gotten used to the idea of being out of the Dark Moon's business.

As if Jimin had read her mind, a lazy smile stretched across his angelic features.

"I took you away from that place because I didn't want other men to dump their cum into you," he said grabbing her by the chin in a grip that had nothing gentle about it at all, "You should thank me, I saved you from a life as a whore that would have made you satisfy the cravings and perversions of all those pigs you would meet."

Y/N would have liked to reply that he was the one who had brought her there, that she had absolutely nothing to thank him for, but Jimin's lips pounced on hers, plugging her mouth before she could say anything that would surely only bring more trouble for her.

The kiss was violent and full of possession, Jimin's tongue entwined with hers in a voracious struggle, heedless of the blood staining her broken lower lip, he took care to taste her sweet flavor as he slowly slid the covers off her body.

Then an idea tickled his mind, releasing the young woman from his ravenous mouth, causing her to momentarily regain air.

"Get undressed," he ordered peremptorily, moving away to make himself comfortable between the blankets.

Y/N watched frozen as the male's actions shamelessly displayed the stiffened length of his cock; it was colored a vivid shade of pink, the turgid tip wet with clear liquid was screaming with need, but Jimin did not even try to touch himself, his dark, wicked irises were on her, waiting.

"Did you hear me?"

Y/N pondered the situation well, and no matter how hard she looked for a way out, it simply did not exist.

If she had tried to escape, he would have caught her and beaten her.

If she had hit him, it probably still would have ended with her getting beaten.

With her heart in her throat she unbuttoned what was left of the buttons of her pajamas, she felt dirty, she was not even fighting for her dignity.

She ended up lowering her shorts as well, remaining only in her clear briefs, and Jimin drank in with his eyes every drop of the image that came before him. He knew she was beautiful, even if annoying, there was a goddess in front of him and a more intense vibration of his cock made him nod in agreement in his mind, now she was simply perfect, because now she belonged to him.

The thought of sharing her had dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, but now he would no longer have to worry about it.

That slut would only welcome his cum where, when, and as much as he wanted it.

"Now turn around and make like the bitches in heat," he said softly, humiliating the woman even more, who clamped her mouth in a hard line, making her tear-filled eyes sparkle, "I won't repeat myself, Y/N. Do what I just told you," he used her name to emphasize the threat in his voice. Jimin was a man of his word, she knew it well.

Swallowing the knot of tears, the woman did as she was told, showing the man the full view of her buttocks still covered by her panties, Jimin hummed contentedly following the line of her pussy that seemed to seduce and call to him, he noticed only then a slight wet spot at the height of her slit, an increasingly sadistic and amused grin spread across his face.

"Wait for me here without moving, understand? I'll be back soon," he intimated to her, leaving the room heedless of his cock screaming at him to take her right away.

Y/N stared at the headboard of the bed with a look lost in nothingness, feeling ashamed of the immoral position she had been forced to, it made her feel if possible even more naked, and she was also getting tired, her wrists and knees that supported her weight were going numb, she was on the verge of collapsing when Jimin returned, she felt his presence not because he announced it, but because by now her body shivered whenever he was around.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart," he chuckled, placing himself behind her intentionally, "I just want to make sure I won't hurt a virgin pussy," he whispered in her ear, Y/N had only time to frown, because next Jimin slipped her panties off just enough to slip two fingers directly through the girl's tight, moist slit, who let out a cry at the painful intrusion, only then did she notice something strange, something that made her chest flare with humiliation.

Jimin's hand was wrapped in a leather glove, that leather glove.

The boy caressed her innermost walls, not bothering to be gentle, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut at the cruel invasion, moaning breathlessly at the glove rubbing into her in a rough and crude way, Jimin pushed his fingers deeper, against a spot that made her jerk in surprise, the man at that point added a third finger, delighted by the half moans that the woman could not block between her teeth, devastated by her body feeling pleasure against her will.

Y/N feared this might happen, but she did not imagine it would happen so soon, somehow he had won, again.

The man's hand increased the pace, touching more and more sensitive and hot spots, the girl's hips began to come to him trembling and shy, at which point he stopped, pulling out his three fingers completely drenched in her pearly essence. He watched in satisfaction as that result, pride filled his chest, and a low laugh vibrated through the room.

"You're not a virgin, that certainly hasn't changed," he began, kneeling down to get a better look at her trembling state of shock and stolen pleasure, "But honey, you're so wet now, the first time wasn't like this," he mortified her, leaving a thick lick along her soaked slit, reaching the swollen clitoris that until then had remained untouched and throbbing, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut despondently in the throes of an enjoyment she should not have experienced, Jimin pulled away only to bring proof of his words to her eyes, the glove glistening with her stringy essence.

"Lick," the man ordered, surprising her once again, "Good bitches lick everything until they clean up their mess," he said cruelly, and Y/N did so.

She brought his fingers to her mouth and licked her own essence under Jimin's order, who touched her soft tongue pushing up to her throat. The woman choked for air until the boy released her to put himself back behind her.

He didn't even give her time to get used to the idea, he slid the tip of his cock against her perky, receptive clitoris: once, twice, three times, Jimin lost count of how many times he unnerved the girl before positioning himself at her entrance and sliding inside her.

The pleasure for the man was immediate, he clawed her hard by the hips before thrusting fiercely inside her, Y/N screamed in vain, despite the soggy, throbbing walls the size and thrusts of Jimin's cock were simply too much to bear, she had never had to deal with anything like this, the sensitive tip met the entrance of her cervix and the girl stiffened at the foreign sensation, contracting the walls and squeezing Jimin's cock in such a way that soon had the room filled with the boy's moans and grunts.

"Holy-! You squeeze me so good!" he gasped without realizing it, now lost and intoxicated, peering his length in and out drenched with both of their arousal, his balls slapped the woman's clitoris, she collapsed with her face on the pillows, which muffled her desperate moans, she felt pain, but also a strange pleasure in her belly, which along with the shiny, stimulated pearl between her legs tried to make her reach for something, something that never came.

Jimin got off her just in time, continuing to masturbate with his gloved hand, squeezing the red tip until he discharged his cum between the girl's quivering buttocks.

Y/N finally fell onto the bed, exhausted and unsatisfied.

She had never been able to feel pleasure, she thought with a knot in her throat, she also knew why, and she still could not believe that Jimin had been able to make her go that far, even if in the end that thing had not exploded the way her body had desired.

For his part, Jimin was aware that between the two of them only he had orgasmed.

He had left earlier on purpose.

It was still early for her to experience that kind of pleasure with him; she had to earn it.

That did not, however, prohibit him from opening the lips that protected her now scarlet and abused slit, noticing that the semen poured onto her buttocks was dripping onto her pussy, the erotic sight made him sigh, before he left a kiss on her contracted clitoris that caused her to shudder.

"I've told you before, I could lick your pussy if you behave, Y/N..." he murmured an inch from her, "I could make you scream with pleasure, not pain, if only you'd let me," he sighed pulling away from her, the now-quiet demons were asking for rest, Jimin looked at the girl's still inert body, then left her there alone, returning to his bedroom.

The next morning Y/N found a white box on her bedside table with a note next to it and a glass of water.

'Take it before breakfast, prevention is better than cure.'

The woman frowned, reading the brand name on the box and soon realized what it was. It was a morning-after pill.

She moved to get up from the bed, but a tremendous twinge of pain between her legs made her breath catch, the memory of Jimin's wild thrusts was still vivid and painful in her, pulling up with her nose she strained to take the water and the pill, she would not allow such an accident with that monster, at least he had been quite prescient in that case.

Y/N's routine changed drastically for the worse from then on, if during the day she had a semblance of peace, at night when Jimin came home it was hell, he always waited for her to finish dinner and go to sleep to attack.

He lived in anxiety every night, he didn't know it, but she had become the young man's new addiction, drowning in her body helped him escape from his disgusting memories, helped him not to think, and more than once she had been on the verge of fainting under his desperate thrusts, she ached all over and the man didn't seem to care at all.

He fed lustfully on her.

"I hate you! I hate you!" she shrieked one evening with contempt-infused eyes in his direction, it had been yet another stressful day at work for Jimin, the only thing he wanted was to find himself in bed with her, his new cure and damnation.

He had found her standing there cooking for herself, Jimin never ate at home and even if he had, he would never have eaten anything prepared by her, he could not have known what might be in that food and he wanted to avoid possible poisoning from his recalcitrant bedmate.

He had not held back, he had reached behind her heedless of her terrified gasp, attaching himself to her neck like a suction cup as he reached down with his hands to her hot intimacy, for Y/N was too much.

She could take it no more, she was in pain, and the only thing she was getting from all that fucking was just a strange state of upset and dissatisfaction, as well as now devastating physical pain.

She threw everything she was using up in the air only to turn to the boy and slap him full in the face, the small fingers matched perfectly with the soft skin that turned scarlet in seconds, she continued to hit him on the chest with fists and more slaps.

"You're fucking killing me!" she cried hysterically, Jimin cashed in each blow with icy, marble eyes, let her vent without a word, "I'm going crazy! Why are you doing this to me!"

The girl collapsed to the ground, exhausted, the adrenaline that had pervaded her body leading her to such an outburst now gone, now she was alone, tremendously alone with her tormentor.

She lifted her weary eyes to Jimin, who touched his injured cheek to his face slowly, licking the split and bleeding corner of his mouth.

Y/N marveled at her own strength, her hands burning and throbbing feverishly, she closed them into fists, ready to suffer the fury of man.

The latter knelt in front of her, grabbed her chin firmly and forced her to look at him. Y/N already imagined what would happen.

"What's the matter?" he asked, leaving her stunned, "Is it because I won't let you cum or because your pussy is a little sore?"

"A little?" shocked the woman, "You don't care about me, you just want to use me as a sack for your cum and then throw me away!"

Jimin nodded unable to do anything else, strangely even seemed sympathetic, then said something out of the blue that shocked both of them.

"I'm sorry."

With a strange expression on his face, he got up and disappeared into his bedroom before those words could penetrate deeper into both of them, Y/N observed the place left empty by the boy with a vacant look. Those simple apologies could not belong to Park Jimin. He never apologized; in fact, it was as if he was allowed to do whatever he most craved, so why apologize?

For this very reason she remained vigilant all night, staying awake until the first light of dawn. But Jimin did not show up.

He had not looked for her, neither the next day nor the next.

It was as if Jimin had forgotten about her, but Y/N could not know how wrong she was.

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 6th - Somnophilia (Papa Emeritus III x Female!Reader)

Tags: Established Relationship, Established Consent, Somnophilia, Groping, Terzo Is A Pervert, Cunilingus, Fingering, Sleepy Sex, Light Objectification, Free-Use, Light Fear Play, Praise, Creampie, Second Person POV

Terzo jolts awake suddenly, wiping the sweat from his brow. He rubs his aching eyes, turning his body with a huff to check the time. He squints, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of his alarm clock. 2:37 A.M. "Goddamnit..." He whispers to himself.

An involuntary groan escapes his lips as he feels his dick twitch uncomfortably. His gaze now focused on his lap, he notices the huge tent underneath his boxers. Must've woken up from a pretty good dream, he thought to himself. With a sigh, he takes out his heavy cock, beads of pre-cum already collecting at the tip. He strokes himself, letting his head fall back against his plush pillow as he gets himself off.

A stirring next to him snaps him away from his self-pleasure, glancing over to the figure tossing and turning in his bed, hogging the blankets; You. Beautiful, irresistible you. He always thought you looked absolutely divine as you slept. The curvature of your body as you lay on your side, the little noises you made as you shifted positions, your peaceful expression. So soft, so pliant. You were absolutely to die for.

Which is why he often couldn't help himself around your sleeping form. It wasn't uncommon for you to wake up with his fingers buried inside you, or his tongue lapping at your pussy, and you loved it. Terzo was never shy about what he was into, which is why the two of you have developed a sort of 'free-use' dynamic fairly early on in your relationship.

Terzo, despite being the pervert he is, has never gone all the way with his desires. He's never had the chance to bury himself deep within you, to see your eyes flutter open and your cunt tighten around him as you realize what your body's experiencing. You've expressed to him several times that it is something you're interested in, practically begged him to take you like that, yet he's still been wary.

But as his cock pulses in his hand, and your chest rises and falls as you breathe, looking so relaxed, so innocent, he cannot contain himself any longer. He gently maneuvers your body, spreading your legs just enough for him to wedge himself between them. His fingers hook underneath your panties, carefully sliding them down your hips to your ankles. His breath hitches, holding back a growl of desire.

He presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, cautious not to wake you just yet. No, he wants you to awaken to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, your unconscious mind being shocked out of your slumber as he slams his hips against yours. He makes his way to your core, licking a long stripe against your folds. He relished in the taste, taking everything in him to restrain from frantically devouring your cunt.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking lightly. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, but you remain asleep and unaware, stirring only slightly. He chuckles against your mound, his slender fingers moving to prod at your wetness. He inserts one at first, moving them in and out painfully slow, curling them upwards. He goes back and forth on sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue, getting more bold with his ministrations as he adds a second finger inside you.

He listens to your sweet little noises, murmuring moans and shakey exhales as your body reacts to the pleasure that your mind had no idea was happening. He could eat you out forever, and die a happy man drowned in your pussy, but as delectable as you taste, the throbbing of his cock has gotten too intense to ignore. He sits up, pumping his length in his hands, once, twice, before lining himself up with your waiting, unaware hole.

Little by little, he works his cock inside you, his fingers having stretched you out enough for it to slide in with ease. Your brows furrow, a faint whine escapes your lips. Terzo smiles, continuing to inch himself in with painful restraint. "Bella addormentata..." He murmurs lowly, adoringly stroking your cheek. Your face twitches, subconsciously reaching a hand up to sluggishly scratch at the tickling sensation he caused.

He giggles, bottoming out completely inside you with little detection. Terzo gets an idea, a mischievous glint appears in his eyes. Deciding it's time for you to wake up, he pulls out almost completely, and swiftly plunges himself back in. Your eyes shoot open in surprise, tensing up as you regain consciousness, your mind still too racked with sleep to comprehend the situation immediately.

"Terz-? Oh!" You slur, crying out when he slams back into your cunt. Your body relaxes when you realize what's happening, that he's finally giving you what you've been asking for all this time. The sadist in Terzo revels in the split second of terror in your eyes, the feeling of your cunt clenching when your body was tensed up in temporary fear.

"There's my beautiful girl." He purrs teasingly, abusing your pussy with another hard thrust. "So happy for you to f-finally join in on the fun, as lovely as you looked while you slept..." His hips slam rapidly against yours, dragging out a loud moan from his throat. You've always loved how vocal he was.

Heat pooled in your core at the thought of Terzo touching and fucking you while you weren't aware, using your body like a toy solely for his own pleasure, not even bothering if you're awake to experience it with him. You curse yourself for letting this turn you on as much as it does, and praise Lucifer for finding a man who can please you as good as he always does.

"Does my perfect girl want to cum? F-fuck, I want to make you cum so badly, princepessa. Give your Papa what he wants, per favore..."

As he moved his hand down between the two of you, fingers prodding at your clit, it wasn't long before you were cumming around him, thighs tightening around his hips and involuntarily pulling him impossibly deeper inside of you. With a growl so deep you barely registered it came out of him, he empties himself deep within your cunt, painting your willing walls white.

He presses one last chaste kiss to your lips, and clambers off of you, practically passing out the second his face hits his pillow. You couldn't be mad, with how sleep deprived Terzo is, you know he needed this. With his last remaining brainpower, he pulls you into his chest, holding you close in a warm, yet uncomfortably sweaty embrace. Somehow though, you'd never want to be anywhere else.

"Ti amo, mia cara..." Terzo mumbles, barely coherent, and already starting to drool on the sheets. "sempre e per sempre."

-