#earlier bid process

[lucysarah-c]

I wrote this little piece a while ago and I decided to do a little continuation.

Masterlist to all the parts.

"Oh, there he is," Erwin said, spotting his friend in the crowd at the military event. He began navigating through the sea of people, keeping his hand close to the small of her back without actually touching it—a subconscious gesture of protectiveness over her petite frame. It was as if he was afraid she might get hurt as he led her through the throng. When they reached their destination, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the two standing before them. Hange smiled warmly, but Levi turned around, frowning deeply. Social events were Levi's least favorite, especially those Erwin coerced him into attending. "Levi, this is Y/N. Y/N, Levi," Erwin introduced them, gesturing between the two. Y/N smiled softly. "Nice to meet you, Captain." She had met Hange a few times in the past, but seeing Levi at such an event was a rare occurrence. "Yeah, same," Levi replied curtly, maintaining his usual stoic and uninterested demeanor. Y/N spent a bit more time with the group of scouts until some of her friends arrived, beckoning her to join them. "I should get going," she said, turning to properly greet her friends. She nearly collided with Levi in the process, causing her to chuckle with a mix of embarrassment and mischief. "Well, since we're here—" she murmured, and before Levi could react, she made a kissing sound and pressed her cheek against his. "Bye, Captain. Take care." She then bid farewell to Hange and Erwin the same way and disappeared into the crowd. Later that night, on her way home, she bumped into Erwin again. "I don't think your friend liked me very much," she commented, tightening her coat against the chill. "He was so quiet and didn't seem very friendly." Erwin chuckled. "Don't worry… he's always like that." -- Meanwhile, Levi and Hange were making their way back to the scout facility. "She's going to be the mother of my children," Levi said, almost in a trance. Hange burst into laughter. "You'll have to actually talk to her for that to happen." "Fuck—"

 "So..." 

Levi cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea; his Adam’s apple rise and fall as the brown liquid slid down. He sat on a chair opposite Erwin’s desk, one arm draped casually over the back, his right leg crossed on top. The chair’s wheels allowed him to rotate slightly, giving Erwin a side view. 

Erwin's hand, which had been meticulously working on a map for the upcoming expedition, paused for a moment. A subtle grimace flashed across his face before he regained his composure and continued. Levi had been acting strangely ever since he stepped into the office to deliver paperwork. Normally, he would have left the pile and walked out. But today was different. Levi had seated himself, poured a cup of tea, and now, he was clearing his throat. Erwin knew Levi wanted something. By his demeanour, it was clear that whatever was on Levi's mind was significant enough to make the usually decisive Captain hesitate. 

"So, mhp—" Levi cleared his throat again and adjusted his position in the chair, trying to appear nonchalant but only raising suspicion. Erwin kept his eyes on his work, though his mind was wandering, waiting for Levi to reveal his purpose. "How did you and..." Levi paused, frowning slightly, as if searching for a name. "Y/N? I think that's her name." 

Erwin couldn't help but chuckle, a sound that echoed in the empty office. He bit the inside of his cheeks to stifle his laughter as Levi shot him a glare. 

"What’s so damn funny?" Levi's tone was sharp, a stark contrast to his earlier hesitation. 

"You," Erwin replied without hesitation, a smirk lingering on his lips. "It took you three years to remember Nile's name and stop calling him 'pathetic mustache.' And now you expect me to believe you casually mention my friend’s name as if you don’t remember it?" 

Levi snorted, offended by the implication that he was being less than straightforward. 

“What about my friend?” Erwin set his pen down carefully to avoid staining his work with ink. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers. 

"You always say I need to be more sociable with other divisions, and now—" 

Levi's feeble excuse was cut off by Erwin. "And you decided to start by getting to know my close friend?" 

The tension was palpable, like a taut wire ready to snap. Erwin had caught Levi, much like a parent waiting for their child to confess a known transgression. 

"Levi, if you’re trying to hit on a friend of mine whom I consider like a little sister, at least have the guts to admit it." 

Levi's eyes remained fixed on the wall, motionless as if hoping the scrutiny would vanish if he stayed still, like a cornered animal. 

"You never introduce me to anyone interesting, and when you do, you gate-keep them." 

"I never introduce you to anyone interesting because you never attend social events," Erwin countered. 

Levi’s expression was impassive, but Erwin could almost see a hint of a pout. "Y/N was in her final year of nursing training in the military when I needed a medical companion for my aging mother. They initially refused because such services were usually reserved for the MPs. But after insisting, they sent their least experienced one. Despite that, Y/N was young but extremely dedicated. My mother adored her, treating her like her own daughter. She cared for my mother until her last day, and that's how I know her." 

Levi nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information. Erwin’s account only heightened her appeal in Levi’s mind. Her charming, outgoing nature and the sparkle in her eyes as she smiled captivated him. It felt offensive that he didn’t know every detail about her. 

"With that said..." Erwin continued, straightening up and returning to his paperwork, "Whatever plans your former thug mind is conjuring, I suggest you rethink them." 

Levi frowned. "I can't even ask? I wasn’t planning on doing anything." 

"Yeah, yeah, and I was born yesterday," Erwin replied with a hint of sarcasm. 

The truth was, Levi wasn’t doing anything. Since they first met, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It made him feel like one of the awkward teenagers he often supervised, hoping to spot her in a crowded room only to shy away when she appeared. Talking to her casually seemed more daunting than reclaiming Wall Maria. 

Their paths had crossed occasionally, but usually, she approached to greet Erwin, and Levi remained silent. 

"Your hair doesn’t look that shitty," Levi mentioned once, out of the blue. The bustling hallway of the Capital building suddenly felt quiet, amplifying the awkward silence. 

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, then frowned slightly as she processed his comment. "Well... considering I’ve been on emergency on-call for the past 48 hours, I'll take that as a compliment," she chuckled, half-friendly, half-confused. 

‘It was a compliment...’ Levi thought to himself. 

If there were a cure for his infatuation, it would require something he absolutely lacked: sociability. 

"Hope you have a great expedition," she offered her best wishes. 

"Yeah, you too..." Levi responded before he could think. 

She laughed softly. "Thank you, but the only expedition I'm planning is to my bed." 

‘Smooth as sandpaper,’ Levi thought, grateful for his stoic expression to hide how much he wished he could disappear at that moment. 

Each encounter felt worse than the last. He said less each time, feeling increasingly awkward. He clenched his teeth as he watched her joke around with Erwin, effortlessly friendly and outgoing. 

It shouldn’t be this hard. He just needed one chance. She was always surrounded by MPs, and Levi knew he was ten times the man they would ever be. But every opportunity slipped away like water through his fingers, and he found himself watching her leave with a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek, her hair flowing behind her. 

‘Do you need landing lights on my bed? I want to sleep with you!’ 

It was a paradox. He constantly thought about her, yet Levi realized he hadn’t felt such a strong necessity to pin someone down in his bed in years. Imagining those eyes looking at him half-lidded, hearing her soft whimpers... it was intoxicating. But it also felt wrong, as if even thinking about it insulted her honour. 

One chance. That’s all he needed. 

"Oh!"  

Levi could recognize that voice from a mile away. He turned around in the hallway while they were idly waiting for a meeting with the higher-ups. There she was, walking confidently towards them. To the Captain, it felt like she was coming straight to him. "Aren't you my saviour?" 

'Savior? Yeah, I can be whatever you want,' Levi's brain struggled to form a coherent thought. But as soon as she reached them, and Erwin was the first to receive her greetings, Levi's hopes sank like a stone to the bottom of a river. He clicked his tongue in frustration while the two of them caught up on their respective lives. 

Automatically, he dissociated, feeling like a third wheel. "So... wouldn't you be my saviour?" The question was repeated, and it took Levi a couple of seconds to realize by the sudden silence that she was referring to him. His eyes lifted to find her looking at him with a cheeky smile and subtle, pleading eyes. 

"Huh?"  

"Wouldn't you do me a tiny, teeny favour, Captain?" She asked, holding her fingers close together to show just how small her request was. 

Levi gulped, feeling weak under her doe-eyed look and subtle pout as she feigned innocence. The sensible part of his brain told him to at least ask what the favour entailed. However, his other instincts took over, and he found himself saying, "Sure." 

"Oh! Thank you so much!" Without another word, she grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the hallway. Levi offered no resistance. Her pace was brisk, and as she turned to call back, "Don’t worry, Erwin. I won’t keep him long!" 

"You better not; I went all the way to the Underground to get him," Erwin joked, playing along. 

Levi wasn’t fond of being touched, but her hand felt so soft against his. For her, he’d make an exception. Even as she led him out of the building and down the streets of the Capital, he didn’t mind. When they reached the hospital nearby, Levi started to wonder if he had inadvertently agreed to donate his organs. 

"I have a group of orphans at the hospital who were brought in to get the new vaccine," she explained. "But they've been very fussy about it. I bet if they see the mighty Captain Levi, humanity’s strongest soldier, getting his shot, they’ll be brave enough to get theirs too. Right?" 

'So... I just agreed to get a vaccine because my brain is as fucking sexually frustrated as Kirschtein,' Levi thought, mentally kicking himself.  

The wide-eyed children stared up at Levi with so much admiration that their mouths hung open. He couldn’t help but smile subtly. Usually, the loud admiration from citizens wasn’t something he enjoyed. But seeing the kids' starry-eyed wonder was heartwarming. 

"See, Captain Levi isn’t scared of getting his shots," she told the kids as she prepared a cotton swab with alcohol and loaded the syringe. The children’s tears dried up, and their cries ceased as they watched the soldier intently. 

"Could you take off your sleeve on one arm, Captain?" she asked sweetly, hastily moving around. Levi quickly complied. She turned back to him once everything was ready and chuckled, "You’re more ripped than I thought under that uniform," she murmured, slightly blushing as she wiped his pale skin with the cold cotton. 

Levi's eyes never left her face as she was so close that he didn’t even feel the needle go into his arm. He was intoxicated by her delightful perfume and the way her eyelashes framed her eyes. He was tempted to lean in and close the gap between them. 

"All done. See, it doesn’t hurt!" 

Before he knew it, she had finished. She placed a band-aid on his arm and stepped back. "If you all want to grow up to be as strong as Captain Levi, you’ve got to get your shots and eat your vegetables! Right, Captain?" 

Levi snapped back to reality, which was far less appealing than his fantasies. "Ah, yes, listen to her, kids," he said, rolling his sleeve back down. 

"Now, who wants to go first?" 

Suddenly, all the children raised their hands eagerly, begging to be the first to get their shots. It was his chance—stay around until the kids left the room and offer his services for any future occasions she needed him. Maybe next time, they could have tea together, and then... 

"Here," she interrupted his thoughts, placing an ice pack on his arm and handing a bottle of painkillers to the nun in charge of the kids. 

Levi looked at her, puzzled. "You’ll need this. Your arm will hurt like crazy in a couple of hours." 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt," he said, incredulous. 

She laughed, her chuckle echoing in the hospital room. "First rule of medicine: you never tell a man or a child how much a shot will hurt. You’ll probably have a fever tonight." 

Levi felt absurdly and grotesquely tricked. "And what about my painkiller?" he asked, feeling like a little kid begging for a lollipop. 

"Oh, Captain, I’m sure you have someone who can take care of you tonight if your temperature rises a bit," she teased, sassiness in her voice. 

'Wait... what?' 

--- 

"So, let me get this straight—you’ve got a 39°C fever, and you didn’t even ask her out on a date?" Hange questioned, checking the thermometer that confirmed Levi's high temperature. 

Levi slumped in his office chair with a cold compress on his forehead and another on his arm, his cheeks flushed, feeling as though a Titan had stomped on him. 

"You truly are an idiot," Hange declared. 

"At least she thinks I'm getting laid!" Levi argued back weakly, his voice hoarse and his eyes glazed. 

"Yeah... she also thinks you’re taken, so she wasn’t hitting on you." 

"Fuck—"

(If I get any new idea on how to persue Levi's journey on trying to win the reader over, I'll haha)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @twruui @lemonsupernova @r3becca_o @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @leti224-blog Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[harknessxo]

Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You get to have your happy ending with Agatha in the end.

Warnings; smut, fingers, cunnilingus (A receiving), strap on use, mommy kink, praise/degradation kink.

Word Count: 5.3k

Part 1, Part 2

A/n: A lot of people wanted a part three and here it is. This is the final part!

Monica was outside like she said she would when they released you. The car ride was a bit awkward especially after your outburst. She would glance over at you every now and then, not sure what to say. She was worried about you and the fact that you seemed to have some sort of attachment to Agatha. She knew that you were a good person and that you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease.

“Y/n…can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Do you really love her?”

“I…” you paused and remembered what Agatha had told you, “No, no I don’t. I don’t know what was going through my head. I’m sorry for my outburst,” you lied, chuckling nervously. She let out a sigh of relief, her grip on the steering wheel loosening.

“Thank god. I was worried about you. You seemed so…possessed.”

“Hah…I guess I just needed some time to process everything….”

“I understand. It’s a lot to take in. But I need you to promise me something, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me that you will go see a therapist. I know a good one in town. She helped a friend of mine a while ago.” She could tell you were acting a bit. She just wanted what was best for you.

“I…I promise.”

“Good. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Here,” she took out a paper card from her purse, “This is her number.” You took the card from her and read out the name.

“Christina Raynor.” Monica nodded.

“Yeah, she’s a good therapist. I think you’ll like her. Just give her a call and set up an appointment, okay?”

“Will do.” Just as you finished your sentence, she pulled up in front of your house and put the car in park.

“Alright, we’re here. Do you need me to come inside with you?”

“No, it's fine. She’s in jail now.” You joked uncomfortably and she chuckled.

“You’re right. She’s locked up tight. I still can’t believe she got away with all those murders for so long…”

“Me neither,” you didn’t like the thought of talking bad about Agatha so you just hugged her to get it over with, “Thank you, Monica.” She hugged you back, squeezing you tightly.

“You’re welcome. Just take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

You bid her goodbye and went inside your house. It felt so empty, you wanted Agatha to be here with you. It was 6 pm by now and you were nowhere near tired. You decided to sit on your couch, exactly where Agatha had sat earlier that day, and watch some tv. It was hard to find anything to watch, almost every channel talking about the serial killer being put behind bars. It made your blood boil.

The news kept going on and on about Agatha and her crimes. Some of them were praising the police for finally catching her, others were speculating on how long she would get in prison. You tried to change the channel but it seemed like every channel was talking about her. It made you miss her even more. The way she touched you, the way she kissed you, the way she spoke to you. You missed everything about her.

Then you remembered the brooch. You took it out of your pocket and looked at it. Brushing your fingers over the symbol on it. You didn’t know what it meant but you knew it meant a lot to Agatha. You had no idea why it was so important to Agatha but just looking at it made you feel a strange connection to her. It almost felt like she was right next to you, watching over you with her cold, blue eyes.

The following days felt like torture. You had scheduled some appointments with the therapist Monica told you about like you promised. She seemed to see right through your act but you didn’t give in.

Every time you would go into her office, she could sense that you were lying to her. You would tell her how happy you were to be free from Agatha and how much you were enjoying your freedom but there was a part of you that missed her. Christina could see it in your eyes, even if you tried to hide it. It was like there was a void inside of you that only Agatha could fill.

“Alright, let’s try this once again, what happened the morning after Wanda’s murder?” Christian asked. She’s been asking the same questions every session trying to get something out of you.

“This again?” You sighed.

“Yes, again. You’ve been dodging the question every time I ask you about it.”

“I woke up, Monica called me to look at the news and I saw Agatha was the killer. I cried like everyone does then someone rang my doorbell. I went to look and simply found a flower on the floor and then Agatha kidnapped me. Happy?” She jotted something down on her notepad before looking up at you again.

“Who left the flower on your doorstep?”

“Agatha.” You answered flatly and she leaned back in her chair, eyeing you carefully.

“And why do you think she left a flower?”

“I don’t know…” you acted dumb. You knew why she left it. She left it as a way to apologize for killing Wanda. Christina sighed, clearly getting frustrated with you.

“Y/n, you can’t just act like you don’t know. I need you to be honest with me.”

“I am. I don’t know why she left it.” She closed her notepad, crossing her arms.

“You do realize that lying to your therapist isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

“Look, I’m only here because I made a promise to a friend. I am fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply.

“Being ‘fine’ and needing therapy are two completely different things. Clearly, you have something that you’re not telling me and I think it has something to do with the fact that you have developed Stockholm syndrome and you choose to ignore it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never love someone who killed my best friend,” you lied. Saying that sentence almost physically hurt you. Christina chuckled, shaking her head.

“That’s exactly the problem, sweetheart. You do love her. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you do.”

“Alright, are we done here?” You were starting to get agitated.

“Yes, we’re done for today. But I’m telling you, the sooner you accept your feelings for her, the easier it’ll be to deal with this whole situation.”

You simply gathered your things and left. The whole day your thoughts would go to Agatha. Was she actually coming for you? Did she actually love you? Was everyone else right? You shook your head, trying not to let those thoughts get to you. The drive home was miserable, you dreaded go back to an empty house. Everyday you hoped Agatha would be there when you got back but it’s been almost a week and no luck.

You arrived at your house and opened the door, being greeted by the same deafening silence that had plagued your home the past few days. It was late now, nearing 8pm, and you hadn’t eaten anything yet. You sighed as you closed the door behind you, dropping your bag and keys on the floor. You were hungry but you had no energy to cook.

“What’s got you so gloomy, sweet girl?” A voice suddenly said. Your head almost instantly turned towards the direction of the voice.

“Aggie?” She chuckled as she emerged from the shadows, stepping into the light. She was leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face, extending her arms outwards.

“Did you miss me?” You ran into her arms, clinging to her like she was your lifeline while tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you sobbed. She was quick to wrap her arms around you, pulling you against her body as you clung to her. She gently stroked your hair, running her fingers through it as she shushed you.

“Shh… it’s okay, baby girl. I’m here now.”

“How did you get out?” You asked, curiously. She smirked again, tilting your chin up so that you were looking at her.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that but we must hurry. They will be looking for me soon and they will most likely come here first.”

“Okay…oh!” you stopped abruptly, searching for something in your pocket, “I kept it safe like you asked,” you smiled, handing her the brooch. She smiled when you handed her the brooch, taking it from your hand and inspecting it carefully. A look of relief washed over her face as she saw that it was undamaged.

“Good girl…” she put the brooch on your shirt, “I want you to keep it. Now, be a good girl and get your things. We need to leave before they come.”

“Okay!” You were about to run upstairs but she grabbed your arm before you could go any further.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, mommy.” Agatha smiled, pulling you flush against her again. She put a finger under your chin, making you look up at her.

“You're so perfect for me, baby, I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.”

“Please kiss me!” You begged. She chuckled, amused by how needy you were already. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her hands grabbing your hips to pull you even closer to her. You pathetically melted into her. You would have fallen if it wasn’t for her hands on your hips holding you up. She felt you go weak in her arms and she broke the kiss for a moment, just to whisper against your lips.

“So sensitive, baby. You’re so desperate for me but let’s get your things,” she started leading you upstairs so you could pack essentials. After all your things were safely packed, she led you to a black SUV outside. You were confused on how she was able to get a hold of it but decided to not ask questions. She opened the passenger side door and gently pushed you into the seat before going around to the driver’s side. She started the car and pulled out of your street, starting the long drive to what was meant to be your new home.

“Where are we going, mommy?”

“A place I have set up just for us, sweetheart. Somewhere no one will find us.” She reached over and placed her hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as she drove. She was clearly enjoying the fact that you were already calling her mommy again.

“You promise? I don’t want to have to go through that again. Everyone kept telling me that you were using me and that you didn’t actually love me-”

“Don’t listen to those fools, baby. I love you more than you could ever know. They’re just jealous of the fact that you belong to me and no one else.” She scoffed at your words, her grip on your thigh tightening.

“Really?”

“Of course, baby girl. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and I’ll continue to love you for as long as I live. No one will ever take you away from me. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine?” She chuckled at your question, a small smirk on her face.

“All yours, sweetheart. You own me just as much as I own you.” You smiled sweetly at her, intertwining your hand with hers.

“My best girl,” she said, kissing the back of your hand before continuing to drive in comfortable silence. The drive was quite long but you didn’t care as long as you had Agatha. By the time you arrived at your new home in the middle of nowhere, the sun had begun to rise. The house was in the middle of the woods, far away from any signs of civilization. There was a lake not too far away from it and it was beautiful. Agatha parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door for you and holding out her hand for you to take.

“Aggie, this is beautiful,” you gushed, looking at the house and its surroundings. She chuckled as she took your hand and pulled you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against her side. She looked at the house and then back at you, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I knew you’d like it, baby. I picked it just for you.”

“How were you even able to get it?” She smirked at your question, giving your hip a squeeze as she started walking towards the front door.

“You don’t want to know, sweetheart.” You just nodded in response and she handed you the keys so you would be the first to go in. She watched as you opened the door, her eyes glued to you the whole time. You were practically buzzing with excitement as she stepped inside after you, shutting the door behind her and pinning you against it.

“Mommy?” Your voice trembled with anticipation. Her eyes darkened as you called her that again. She pushed herself up against you, her body pressed against yours as she looked down at you.

“Do you want mommy's fingers?”

“Mhm!” You nodded your head desperately. She smirked again, loving how desperate you were already. She grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at her.

“Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was away?”

“No. Only you can.”

“Fuck, angel. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl,” she claimed your lips, shoving her tongue in your mouth. You tried to keep up with her pace but it was difficult when she was so hungry for you. She was relentless, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands roamed your body. She pushed her knee between your legs, applying pressure against your core.

“Hmph!” She grinned against your lips, pulling away to nip at your jawline as she continued to apply pressure to your core with her knee. Her hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place against the door.

“Mommy, please!” You needed her and fast.

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” She teased, nipping at your neck before sucking on it, determined to leave marks all over your skin.

“I need you,” you whined, your hands gripping onto her shirt. She groaned at your whine, her resolve breaking as she picked you up and carried you further into the house. She was still marking up your neck as she made her way towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of marks behind as she went.

Once you were in the bedroom, she placed you on the bed and the both of you scattered to take your clothes off. She wasted no time in removing her clothes, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you did the same. She quickly climbed onto the bed and pinned you down, straddling your waist as she leaned down and continued marking up your skin, making sure to cover every inch of your body with hickeys.

“S-stop teasing,” you whined pathetically, trying to push her down to where you need her most.

“Nuh uh,” she pinned your hands above your head, “Do I have to tie you up again, hm? I bet you would like that.”

“But mommy-” you sobbed.

“No buts, baby girl. I’m in control here, remember? I’ll do whatever I want with you,” she said in a dominant tone, her grip on your wrists tightening as she nipped at your earlobe.

Tears of agony rolled down your cheeks as you tried to grind your hips against her for any sort of relief. Not having her for a week was absolute torture. She smiled at your tears, seeing you so desperate was a sight she would never get tired of. She chuckled as you tried to grind against her, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.

“Aw, is someone being a needy little girl? You really can’t wait for me to touch you, can you?”

“I need you so bad,” you sobbed again.

“I know, sweetheart. But I want to hear you beg for it. I want to hear you beg for mommy’s fingers,” she cooed in your ear, her voice low and sultry as she continued to hold your wrists and hips down with ease.

“Pretty please? I’ll be good, mommy!”

“God, baby, you sound so pretty when you beg,” she let go of your wrist and instead gripped to the back of your neck, pulling at your hair, “Say it again,” she demanded.

“Pretty please?” you said again, this time with an innocent tone knowing it would make her spiral. Agatha let out a low groan at your tone. She could feel her resolve crumbling once again as she looked down at you. You were too cute and too desperate and it was driving her insane.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” she slipped her fingers inside you without warning. She cursed under her breath as she felt how wet you were, her fingers easily sliding in. She started to move them slowly, curling them against your walls as she watched your expression intently. She watched as your brows frowned in pleasure, her hand still pulling at your hair.

“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. You’re already a moaning mess and I’ve barely even touched you,” she said in a mocking tone, her pace slowly picking up as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you. Your hands gripped onto her back, your nails digging into it, leaving moon crescent shapes behind.

She let out a moan of her own at the feeling of your nails digging into her back. It hurt a bit but she absolutely loved it. She continued to move her fingers faster, keeping her pace relentless as she started to suck on your neck again, leaving behind even more marks.

“Mommy! I want- I need m-more!”

“Aww, you need more? My baby’s greedy, isn’t she?” She teased as she added a third finger, curling them all and pushing them deep inside of you. You absolutely melted with the added pressure. It felt so fucking good. She could feel you getting tighter around her fingers and it was driving her crazy. She moved her lips up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as she whispered to you.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just take my fingers. They feel so good inside you, don’t they?”

“Yes! So good!”

“My little slut,” she kissed you as she picked up the pace even more, her fingers moving in and out of you at a brutal pace, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“C-cum?” You babbled out, your speech reduced to gibberish.

“You want to cum, baby?” She asked, a smirk on her face as she kept up her pace, her fingers moving in and out of you at a punishing pace, her thumb rubbing against your clit. You nodded your head, unable to make up words.

“Go on then, baby. Cum for me,” She cooed, her fingers curling inside of you once again as she continued to play with your clit, wanting to see you fall apart completely under her touch. Your nails only dig deeper into her back as you came, drawing blood.

Agatha let out a pornographic moan of her own as she felt you digging your nails further into her back. It was so deliciously painful she could feel her own arousal growing, feeling incredibly needy for you but wanting to focus on your pleasure first.

“That’s it, baby girl. Such a good girl,” She said as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, looking down at your trembling form with a smirk. She was about to get up to get her strap but you took a hold of her wrist.

“Mommy? Can I taste you, please?” She froze for a moment, not expecting that at all. She wasn’t used to her partners wanting to taste her. Usually she would just focus on them, getting off by giving them pleasure but with you…well, she couldn’t deny that she was very intrigued by the thought.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!” You eagerly responded. She looked down at you for a moment, her expression unreadable as she thought about it. She was tempted to say no just to tease you but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted to see how good you were with your tongue.

“Go ahead then, angel.” To her surprise you pulled her up, making her sit in your face and you immediately got to work, lapping over her wet folds, moaning her sweet taste. She gasped as she felt the vibrations of your moans against her core. She braced herself against the headboard as you continued to lap at her folds, a shiver running down her spine as she felt your tongue on her.

“F-fuck…” she cursed as you worked h your tongue. You didn’t move your eyes from her face. She looked so beautiful when she was in pleasure. She tried her best to keep her composure but the way you worked your tongue was making it difficult. It felt so good, better than she could have imagined and the way you were staring up at her was driving her crazy. Her thighs clenched around your head as she bit down on her lip to try and stifle a moan.

You wanted to hear her moan so you gently bit down on her clit. A gasp turned into a loud moan when you did, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. She grabbed onto your hair tightly, holding you against her as she threw her head back in pleasure. You sneakily slid two fingers inside of her, knowing that would send her over the edge.

Agatha let out a string of curses as you slid your fingers inside her, her back arching and her grip on your hair tightening even more. Her hips began to move in rhythm with your fingers, desperately seeking more of you. With one final suck on her clit, she let herself come undone on your face, her hips halting. Her entire body trembled as she came, a loud moan escaping her lips as she let go of your hair and slumped back against the headboard. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high.

“Did I do good, mommy?” You asked ever so innocently. She let out a breathless laugh, looking down at you with a look of awe on her face. You were absolutely adorable, covered in her slick and looking up at her with those big eyes.

“You did more than good, baby. You did amazing,” she said before pulling you into a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. She grabbed your chin, holding your face in place as she kissed you hungrily, claiming your mouth as hers.

You hadn’t realized how wet you had gotten from that until Agatha placed her knee in between your legs, putting little pressure on your pussy and you whimpered. She smirked as she heard the whimper escape your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you with a smug expression. She could feel the wetness on her knee and it made her desire for you grow even more.

“Aww, is someone needy?”

“N-no,” you tried to deny it, thinking it was embarrassing to get so needy merely by getting her off. She chuckled, not believing your denial for a second. She could see how desperate you were just by looking at you. Your flushed face, your ragged breathing, the way your hips moved ever so slightly against her knee.

“You’re a terrible liar, hon. Do you want mommy’s cock, hm?” Your eyes immediately lit up at the mention of her strap. Her smirk only grew wider as she noticed your eyes light up. You wanted it so bad. She knew exactly what you were thinking and it made her want to tease you more.

“You want mommy’s strap that badly, huh?”

“Mhm!”

“Are you going to beg for it?” She asked in a low tone, her knee still between your legs and putting a little more pressure against your aching core.

“Please mommy? I want your cock so bad!” She let out a satisfied hum at your begging, her smirk never leaving her face. She loved the way you called her ‘mommy’ and the fact that you were so desperate for her was driving her crazy.

“That’s a good girl, asking so nicely,” she said, getting up and walking into the walk in close and came back with the strap around her hips. You looked at it and realized it was quite bigger than the one she used before, making you clench your thighs together. She could see the look of nervousness on your face but she could also see the hint of excitement in your eyes. She climbed back onto the bed, crawling over you and hovering above you with a predatory look in her eyes.

“Nervous, darling?”

“Isn’t it a little too big?” You asked, anxiously. She smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, gently caressing your face with her thumb.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll make it fit.” She got in between your legs, ready to be buried inside you until you abruptly stopped her. She looked at you, concerned for a second until you took her hand and wrapped it around your neck with an innocent look on your face. She didn’t expect you to do that but the way you were looking at her was making her brain short circuit. You were going to be the death of her.

She could feel her arousal growing even more as she tightened her grip on your neck, just enough to cut off some of your air supply. You gasped but didn’t make any move to stop her. Her smirk returned as she felt your pulse. She loved seeing you like this, so vulnerable and submissive beneath her. Her eyes were dark with lust as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Such a good girl, letting mommy take control,” then she thrusted the strap inside you.

You braced yourself as you tried to take every inch of the strap. She was slow at first, taking her time to push the strap into you. She could see the way your body tensed up as you tried to take all of it, but the way you squeezed around the toy only served to make her want to tease you even more. Once she was fully inside, she leaned down to suck and nibble at your nipples, leaving behind marks on your chest.

Your moans were strained because of the hand wrapped firmly around your neck but she still thought they were the prettiest sound. Her focus then turned to your pussy, watching as her strap went in and out, your walls clenching around it. She continued to move her hips, slowly pulling the strap out before thrusting it back in. The sight of you beneath her, completely at her mercy and taking her strap so well was something she’d never get tired of.

“You’re doing so well, darling. Taking mommy’s cock like a champ. Isn’t that right, superstar?” she praised, pressing her hand against the belly bulge that formed.

“M-mommy-” you babbled incoherently. She chuckled at your babbling, finding it adorable how your mind was already starting to go blank. She leaned down and kissed you, biting your bottom lip before speaking in a low, sultry tone.

“You can’t even speak, can you sweet girl? Too lost in the pleasure that mommy is giving you?”

“Hmmm…” She chuckled again, amused by your inability to form words. She could tell you were starting to get overwhelmed by everything, your body shaking slightly as she continued to move her hips at a steady pace. Her hand around your neck tightened just a bit more, restricting your air supply even more.

“Such a cute little mess you are right now. Just for me.”

“Fas- faster please!” You begged, suddenly finding your voice again. Her smirk grew wider as she heard your pleas for her to go faster. She was loving the way you were begging for her, it made her want to tease you even more.

“Oh? You want me to go faster, darling?” She asked in a teasing tone, her hips slowing down just to mess with you even more.

“No, don't slow down!” you quickly sobered up from being cockdrunk. She chuckled at your quick change of tone, her hips picking up speed once again. She was enjoying the way you were getting frustrated at her teasing, and the way your body jolted with each thrust was addicting to her.

“Don’t be so impatient, angel. Be a good girl and wait for mommy to give you what you want,” she said before letting go of your neck. She put your legs completely against your chest and started drilling into you. The new position allowed her to hit that spongy spot that made you completely spiral with pleasure.

She already knew your body like the back of her hand and knew exactly where to aim to make you fall apart even more. Her grip on your thighs tightened as she continued to thrust into you with vigor, moving her hand to rub your clit, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.

“Yes! Yes!” You sobbed, feeling yourself getting close to your climax. She loved the way you sobbed, the sound music to her ears. She could tell you were getting close and it only made her want to push you over the edge even faster.

“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Are you gonna cum all over mommy’s cock?”

“Please?” She chuckled at your needy response, loving the way you begged her to let you cum.

“Such an obedient little girl asking for permission. Go ahead baby, make a mess for mommy.” You finally came undone, gripping onto the bed sheets, moaning Agatha’s name loudly. She continued to thrust into you through your orgasm, prolonging it as much as possible. She loved the way you gripped the sheets and the way your body shook with pleasure. She watched you intently, committing every single expression and sound to memory.

“That’s my good little cock slut,” she slowed her thrusts down, trying to pull out until you pulled her closer.

“Can you…can you keep it inside for a bit?” You asked timidly, your cheeks turning a rosy color. She smirked as she heard your request. You were always so shy about asking for things, even after she’d seen you in some of the most compromising positions.

“Of course, angel,” she said sweetly, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the forehead before fully burying the strap inside you, letting out a low groan at the sight of your stomach bulging even more from the added pressure. You clung to her, loving the feeling of being full of her. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close against her. She loved the way you clung to her like a lifeline, and the feeling of your body against hers was intoxicating. She ran her fingers through your hair, soothingly stroking your head as she peppered kisses all over your face.

“You’re so perfect, you know that? My perfect little toy, and I promise no one will take you away from me again.”

Taglist;) @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @daenerys713

[yaespook]

Indulgence.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Incubus! Reader x Sub! Switch! Priest! Kaveh x Sub! Bottom! Incubus! Alhaitham, reader has a cock, mostly focused on Kaveh, threesome, sacrilegious themes (Catholicism), worshipping and blasphemy, inexperienced virgin Kaveh, Kaveh has religious guilt regarding masturbating/sex, Kaveh wears a clerical collar, handjob (reader receiving), frotting (Alhaitham with Kaveh), vague incubus powers (entering dreams and binding tattoos). Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The head of the fortune cat appears on the front desk.]

It started out quite innocently in Kaveh’s mind really.

It was another early morning Sunday mass. The same old kind where it was mostly just grandparents attending, when the warm sunlight hasn’t quite fully peeked through the clouds yet. The lights in the church weren’t all on either because only the front few pews were occupied anyway, dousing the environment in a cold sort of blueish grey.

For Father Kaveh, the processes were all the same. The same parishioners, the same blue-greyness, the same prayers. It was always the same and it has always been for a while now.

But today was different. During his homily, he caught a glimpse of two unfamiliar faces sitting amongst the congregation in the wooden pews of the church. It’s hard not to notice such a charming presence intently listening in on the homily he had prepared in a crowd of churchgoers who looked half asleep.

(He would be lying if he said that the both of you weren't attractive too. Unfortunately, lying is definitely a sin. Hence, he simply admits it in his mind and files it away in a mental archive for… further reflection when he has the time. Ugh, it’d be better if that man next to you put down the book he was reading.) 

If he injected a little more pep into his homily after you piqued his interest, then no one but God has to know.

However, he's later promptly caught off guard when the two of you were the first ones to approach him after mass for a chat. Kaveh’s never one to turn down an opportunity to get to know and welcome new parishioners so of course he enthusiastically grasped at the chance to talk to the both of you.

Sparing a subtle glance up and down, he drinks in the sight before him. You were both dressed impeccably, not a single hair out of place, sinfully glamourous. But Kaveh knows better than to ogle so he tears his gaze away and instead focuses on making conversation instead.

“A blessed morning to the both of you! I don't think I've ever seen you two in the early morning congregation before, I am Father Kaveh, the priest of this parish.”

He extends a hand for a handshake, first towards you, which you grasp firmly. When you make contact with him, Kaveh is slightly taken aback at the heightened warmth of your touch on his skin. 

“Sorry, I’ve been told I run hotter than most, but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Father Kaveh,” your voice is smooth and pleasing to the ear, a shake snaking its way down his spine when you say your own name. Silently, he repeats your name in his mind, and he’s further charmed when you remark, “I’ve heard a lot about you, all good things, don’t worry, which is why Alhaitham and I came to see you.”

Kaveh’s head swivels to look over at the other, Alhaitham, and when he shakes his hand, he finds out that the both of you run rather hot. There’s a book held in his other hand, the one he was reading earlier during mass.

“Likewise, a pleasure to meet you,” Alhaitham says, levelling Kaveh with an unreadable stare, “We look forward to getting to know you more.”

At this, Kaveh beams, a cheery grin on his face, “As do I. If you ever need it, the mass timings are always in the weekly church bulletin, I hope to see the two of you more often.”

He excuses himself to chat with the other parishioners, bidding the two of you goodbye. However, even whilst talking to the others and hearing about their day-to-day troubles, and throughout the rest of the week, he finds his mind drifting back to the both of you. What makes you so memorable, so charming to him? Is it the way you carry yourself? Your voice? Or is it simply just, you?

He catches himself looking forward to the next mass where he might see you again, to spot your faces amidst the tired crowd, to converse again. And he does, every Sunday morning mass.

Kaveh sees you and Alhaitham sitting in the same pew every time you attend and it’s almost like clockwork whenever his eyes quickly dart over to the two of you when he’s addressing the congregation. And he firmly attests that you crack him a small smile when you catch him doing so, as if you knew he was going to glance over at that very second.

Over the weeks, he’s grown attached despite the warning bells scolding him not to at the back of his mind.

“Kaveh, get a hold of yourself, you’ve dedicated yourself to the church, this is no way to be thinking of your parishioners,” slapping his cheeks lightly, he tries to shake the thoughts of you out of his head but it seems like no matter what he does, you’ve managed to slither your way into his brain, where you now reside in 24/7.

Sighing, he says a prayer (one imploring for the strength to resist temptation) before he tucks himself into bed for a restful night.

Except, it’s anything but.

As soon as he succumbs to slumber, his eyes snap open at the sensation of a hand stroking through his hair. They adjust to the ceiling light in his room, strange, didn’t he turn them off before sleeping? 

Blearily looking up, he sees the twin troubles plaguing him. But there’s no way the two of you are here, you don’t know the church grounds that well and there should be no reason for you to know which room he stays in either. It’s all improbable and that’s how he figures out that this is just some sort of fucked up lucid dream. (A small buried part of him deflates at this knowledge for some reason.)

“Hey Father Kaveh, sorry we couldn’t wait until the next Sunday, so we’ve come to see you early,” your words snap him out of his thoughts. 

“Oh no, for you to infiltrate even my dreams, just how much am I thinking about the two of you?” Kaveh grumbles as his hand goes to rest over his eyes. He hears you chuckle before Alhaitham speaks next.

“So you think about us too?” The bed shifts and another hand joins in to roughly tussle his hair.

“Begrudgingly so, it’s as if you’ve consumed my every waking thought,” a weak sigh, “Maybe it’s a test from above, something meant to test me.”

“That’s rough, Father Kaveh, to be reduced to ‘something meant to test you’, after all these weeks,” you feign a watery tone, “Is that all you see us as?”

“No! Of course not!” He yells out, snapping to sit upright and grabbing your hands. As if he could ever see you as a burden to shoulder. You’ve been nothing but courteous and kind to him, a rare indulgence in his routine days and scheduled masses. Someone who actually consistently converses with him, asking about him, caring for him. 

The bed shifts again, Alhaitham and you moving to sit in closer next to him, and you ask, “That’s a relief, then what do you see us as?” 

Kaveh feels that familiar quiver snake its way down his spine, like all those weeks ago when it first started, the words caught in his throat as he scrambles to produce an appropriate yet truthful answer to your loaded question. 

“I… I can’t lie,” his voice is shaky, trying to navigate the chaos in his mind for the right thing to say. 

“It’s fine, you can tell us,” Alhaitham’s voice lulls.

Whatever. It’s a dream after all.

Kaveh sucks in a breath before blurting out, “My thoughts about the two of you have veered into more sinful territories-!”

A beat of silence passes and he buries his face into his hands, bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“Such an honest priest we have here on our hands, anything else you want to confess, Father Kaveh?” Your tease makes him flush even more, intense embarrassment washing over him but it changes instantly when you turn his hand over and gently kiss the back of it.

Great, now his mind is making him dream of such situations?

His vision spins when he feels Alhaitham’s hands roam up his back, the heat permeating through his pyjamas as you lean in next to his ear, your breath on his exposed skin hot, hot, hot.

“I would give you your penance but it seems like we’ve run out of time, shame,” your tongue darts out to lick the shell of his ear and he shakes. You snap your fingers.

“Wake up.”

Kaveh snaps up, awake for real this time. The warm sunlight streams in through a window but he can’t find it in himself to enjoy such a wonderful morning when his mind is still reeling from such a depraved dream. He looks down. He’s hard.

No matter what he does, his usual morning prayers, an awfully cold shower, nothing helps to solve his problem. And he’s running out of time with the next scheduled mass coming up soon.

Biting his bottom lip, he experimentally presses his palm against his clothed cock, immediately rewarded with a rush of pleasure through his body. Repeating the action, he palms his erection, breath coming out in pants at the ramping buzz in him. 

“Hah… Forgive m-me Father, for I- ah! -have sinned,” Kaveh blubbers out pitifully between breaths, praying as he tries to tear his mind away from the sin of his act.

He’s never… touched himself in such a way before, and to discover how terrifyingly addictive the bliss that he’s been holding himself back from experiencing all this time is, he feels his resolve crack.

Hurriedly, he shimmies his pants and underwear down, just enough for him to wrap his hand around his cock, revelling in the newness of the sensation. He starts with a light tug, aided by the amount of precum from his earlier palming, and the direct friction goes to muddy his brain. He resorts to biting down on his finger to muffle his noises lest anyone comes down the corridor.

Thoughts of you and Alhaitham flood his brain, the way his hands crept up his back, your tongue on his skin. Unconsciously, his hand speeds up its pace, slick sounds and stifled lewd moans filling the room the more he thinks about the two of you, the fantasies growing more and more unrestrained.

What would you think if you found out this is how your church’s priest spends his time? Would you berate him? Or would you indulge him? Maybe you’d teach him how to masturbate, your hand covering his own as you guide him on how to stroke your dick while Alhaitham steals kisses from him.

He thinks of your voice whispering lowly into his ear, frighteningly realistic, “We want you, Kaveh.”

Head thrown back, he feels the pressure building up to a peak in him, muscles draw taut as a blinding white-hot pleasure shoots through him, and he cums for the first time in his life ever, the forbidden fruit that he’s denied himself up till now. 

Kaveh struggles to catch his breath after his high, desperately rutting into his hand to ride it out. After he does, he’s instantly filled with an indescribable guilt, rushing into the bathroom to wash off the evidence of his act, staring at his dishevelled appearance in the mirror. 

How could he think of you in such a way? (How could he not?)

The next time he approaches the both of you after mass, he makes sure to do it after most of the crowd has already gone off, leaving the three of you alone. Avoiding your gazes, he starts.

“Apologies to keep the two of you waiting… some of the others had a lot to chat about,” a forced laugh, “But it is in my best interest that I should stop interacting so much with you both.”

You give him a quizzical look and Alhaitham quirks an eyebrow at his words, making him quickly tack on some reassurance, “It’s not the fault of either of you, worry not. And it would be too much for me to get into-”

“Certainly not,” Alhaitham cuts him off, his voice alluring, “It’s fine, you can tell us.”

Unable to stomach the thought of his relationship with you souring and ending on a bad note, he swallows down his fear and invites the two of you to his quarters to come clean about everything.

So, how is it that he’s found himself in this position?

It started out already rather lewdly in your mind. 

Catching wind of a devout priest in town, loved by many, adored by most. Naturally, it was your job as an incubus to corrupt him. And they’ve assigned your lovely junior, Alhaitham, as your partner in sin.

The first meeting went well enough, charming Kaveh without the use of your powers, it seems as if he was as taken with you as you were with him. His lovely blond locks, his sweet voice, that downright sinful waist of his. How long would it take until he would snap and tumble into bed with the two of you so that you could defile him and show him the delectable paradise of ecstasy that he’s been abstaining from?

Over the weeks, you’ve teased Kaveh in the most minute of ways. Sly innuendos tossed in nonchalantly during conversations, lingering touches that you can see him secretly longing for. And perhaps you can’t say that Alhaitham and you aren’t unaffected by his charm too.

The impatience was driving the both of you wild, judging from how uncharacteristically antsy he’s been behaving. You’re no stranger to being intimate with him, indulging him when he gets particularly needy. And you can tell he’s pent up when he’s grinding on your thigh as he kisses you, so spoiled. 

When you break apart, cupping his cheek, you ask, “Think our priest is asleep yet? How about we pay him a little visit?” Snapping your fingers, you transport the two of you into Kaveh’s dream, where you plant the final seeds of temptation and guide him down the blissful path of damnation.

The dream ended way too fast for your liking but it all worked out in the end, since now you’re here, in Kaveh’s room with him seated in your lap facing you.

Kaveh’s mind is spinning, unable to comprehend how fast all this is moving. First, he invites the two of you in to talk everything over in a more private location. Then, everything comes spilling out, his thoughts about you, even the sensual dream. His eyes are pinned to his hands clenched into fists in his lap, in fear that your gazes might be one of disgust towards him. It’s all too much, he’s backed himself into something too raw and too vulnerable and he can’t help when tears well up in his eyes, falling onto his hands.

A quick glance over to Alhaitham, and you pull Kaveh into your lap, an act to console him. Gently moving his head onto your shoulder for him to cry into, you shush him.

“Oh Father Kaveh, please don’t feel so guilty, after all, isn’t it natural to be tempted?” Patting the back of his head, you watch as Alhaitham rises from his seat and moves Kaveh’s long hair aside to brush his lips along the exposed skin of his nape.

“If holding it all in is causing you so much distress,” Alhaitham plants a kiss on Kaveh’s neck, “Perhaps giving in is the answer.”

“...No, I can’t,” Kaveh weeps, yet there’s a hesitation in his voice, as if he’s not fully convinced that he should turn away from the pleasure that you two can bring him.

“No one has to know,” your hands cup the sides of his face and move him so that you can look into his eyes, the sincerity behind them startling him when you say, “We want you, Kaveh.”

The world seems to stop when you say those words, his heart soaring and in the split second, his resistance slips away. He abandons it all for you, for a longing reciprocated, for a tangible love, and he presses his lips onto yours.

He whines into the kiss when you take charge, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip and he gasps. When you enter his mouth, your saliva mixing with his, his breath hitches as his desire suddenly heightens tenfold. You can feel him getting hard in your lap, ever so slightly grinding down without even realising it.

“Will you let us take you apart? Allow us to worship and love you like you deserve? To open your eyes to the true salvation of human pleasure?” 

Kaveh’s drowning in your words, the blessing that the two of you are gracing him with, leaving him bare and naked in his longing.

“Please.”

Soon, you have the blond seated on the edge of his bed and stripped of all his clothing, except for his white clerical collar, which still lays clasped loosely around his neck.

“Look at you Father Kaveh, perhaps mankind was indeed made in God’s image,” you watch on from above him as Alhaitham laves a tongue over Kaveh’s clavicle, “If not, how else would you look so divine?”

He flushes crimson at your praise, bashful at how unaffected you are in this scenario. You move and sit next to him on the bed, unzipping your pants as he watches on with bated breath.

“From your mouth to God’s ear, Father Kaveh, your fantasies have been heard and they’ll be fulfilled today.”

Like him, you’re already hard, precum beading at your tip. Your hand goes to grab his, bringing it over and wrapping it around your shaft. Covering his hand with yours, you entertain his desires, cooing as you slowly start to move his hand, pumping your cock at a steady pace while you savour the sensation of his hand.

Kaveh’s eyes are glued to the sight of you guiding his hand up and down on your length, the warmth of your hand over his own. He’s enraptured until he feels fingers under his chin, tilting his head up and suddenly he’s locking lips with Alhaitham. When he realises that the two of you are actually recreating the scene from his imagination, his mind is left reeling. 

He moans into the kiss with Alhaitham when he feels you throb in his hand, more pre dribbling from your tip.

“You’re so good, Father Kaveh, always so kind, so understanding, hmm?” Your praise gets him so worked up, his hips uselessly rutting up against nothing but something settles onto his lap and presses against his own cock. Cracking his eyes open, he realises that Alhaitham has slotted himself into his space, and breaking away from the kiss so that Kaveh can breathe, he frots his erect hard-on against Kaveh’s.

“Maybe this way I’ll keep your attention on me too,” the grey haired male says, hands going to rest at Kaveh’s hip to steady himself as he ruts.

He can feel his legs shaking as that daunting pressure starts to build inside of him again like before. The pacing of his strokes under your hand begins to falter as he chases after his high, grinding more and more frantically against the man in his lap.

But just as he’s seconds away from reaching his orgasm, Alhaitham clambers out of Kaveh’s space, at the same time, you remove his hand from your body 

The sudden detachment brings him back down from his almost peak, his mind clearing up just enough for him to whine out, “Wh- What was that for?” 

“We’re saving the best for last, Father Kaveh,” you say as the two of you manhandle his pliant body into position.

Alhaitham’s beneath him, hands gripping the headboard as he lays on his back, facing upwards. Alternatively, Kaveh’s on all fours on the bed, hands and knees on either side of Alhaitham with you standing at the foot of his bed, hands firmly gripping onto his hips.

“Are you ready to take us into your heart, to accept us for all that we are,” and you all but purr his name, “Kaveh?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” he begs, desperation akin to a sinner’s prayer. 

“Such a lovely obedient lamb, truly the best one in the flock. I’d say you should finally get a reward for such excellent behaviour,” He gulps at your words, the praise you’re showering him in muddling his thoughts as he anticipates whatever the two of you have planned for him. 

Goosebumps rise on his skin when you trace a blunt nail up his spine. However, the breath is punched from his chest when he looks back down at Alhaitham, pointed horns crowning his head, emerging from his mop of grey hair. His head snaps to look at you over his shoulder where he sees a similar sight. Coiled horns like a ram’s adorn you, leathery unfurled wings, and a long slender tail that’s tipped with a heart at the end.

“My dearest lamb, I ask you once more. Do you take us into your being, to love us for what we are,” your voice takes on a sultry tone, dripping with sinful indulgence, “To let us defile you?”

His head bowed, he dutifully replies, “I offer all of myself up to you.”

And with this, you partake in the feast of him.

Coating your fingers in your thick aphrodisiacal spit, you rest one hand on his ass, spreading him apart as you prod at his rim.

“Relax for me, Father Kaveh, you’re in good hands and we’ll never lead you astray.” You hear him release the breath he’s holding and he untenses, allowing you to slip a finger into him.

“Ah-!” The sensation is unfamiliar but not unwelcome, the stretch gradually turning into a growing pleasure thanks to its aphrodisiac qualities, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled as you prepare him to take you.

A finger loops through his clerical collar and pulls him down. Looks like Alhaitham’s had enough of being ignored. He kisses him like a man starved, teeth clacking noisily as he drinks in Kaveh’s moans.

Taking this opportunity to slip in another finger, your other hand goes to grip his waist, steadying him as he loses himself to the mounting delectation. Scissoring your fingers, it proves to be too much for the inexperienced Kaveh and his legs give out from beneath him, pressing him against Alhaitham’s body.

“Haitham, did you prep yourself beforehand?” He nods briskly at your question. Lowering yourself down so you’re bearing down on Kaveh, you lick the shell of his ear, (he shivers), and ask.

“Do you think Haitham can take you? He’s been waiting for you for so long, he’s even prepared himself for you.”

Between dazed blinks, Kaveh manages to process your words, nodding his head and muttering out a dumb, “Uh- Uh huh.” 

With this, Alhaitham lines his hole up with Kaveh’s drooling cock, and with you pushing down on his hips from above him, Kaveh’s head pushes past Alhaitham rim, a guttural growl leaving your junior’s lips at the sensation of Kaveh sinking into him with your guidance.

“M-Move please…!” Alhaitham groans out when Kaveh doesn’t seem to do anything when he bottoms out inside of him. The lewd heat that surrounds his length overloads his mind, bliss coursing through every vein in his body.

The erotic sight of your two sweethearts under you, the one who’s supposed to be the incubus pleading for sweet salvation from the once-pure, clueless lamb laying above him who’s finally had a taste of the forbidden fruit. Both of them dewy-eyed and left greedily wanting more. It’s easily all too tempting.

You remove your fingers from Kaveh with a wet shlick! before replacing it with your tip at his entrance. As you push into him, the pressure causes him to reach deeper into Alhaitham, resulting in a lascivious harmony of wanton moans in the room.

And when your tip brushes past his prostate for the first time, he can’t help but mewl, “O-Oh God!”

“Rude to call out someone else’s name when- ugh! -you have two incubi pleasuring you right here, Father Kaveh!” Punctuating this with a sharp thrust, you wring a drawn-out cry from Kaveh.

“S-Sorry! For- hng!! -forgive me!” Pitifully sobbing out, he rocks his hips clumsily back against yours, urging you to fully sheathe yourself in him. With his motions, Alhaitham finally gets the stimulation he’s yearned for, as Kaveh moves in time with your thrusts.

Your tail wraps itself around Kaveh’s thigh when you encircle your hands around his slim waist.

“I’ll fuck you so good that you’ll be worshipping me when I’m done with you.”

Pulling out until just your tip is left in him, you position your mouth at his shoulder and when you bite down on his pristine untainted skin, it’s the only warning he gets before you sink your length back into him, all the way down to the hilt.

You’ve left your mark on him, marred him, sullied him, defiled him for all of eternity in the eyes of the church. But Kaveh can’t find it in himself to care, too fucked out from the carnal pleasures he’s wrapped up in right now. The way you pound into him, the way Haitham’s walls squeeze down on him. Who is he to say that this isn’t heaven on earth? Who is he to say that this is damnation?

Perhaps he’s found his God in you.

“Hah! God, please! I’m close- ah! -so so close!” He’s delirious and Alhaitham swears he can almost see the hearts in Kaveh’s eyes.

“Calling me your god now, Father Kaveh?”

“Yesss! Please, I’m s-so close, let me- hng! -finish, God, I beg of you!” Kaveh quivers under you as both him and Alhaitham approach their climax. Their breaths come out in ragged pants as you speed up your pace, also chasing your own peak.

“Then take all I give unto you, Kaveh,” you bury yourself as deep as possible as his walls clamp down on you, his head thrown back in ecstasy as the three of you cum together. The searing rapture rips through him as you fill him up, eyes wrenched shut with him seeing stars behind his eyelids. His lower abdomen feels hot as he cums into Alhaitham, whose eyes have rolled back into his sockets, breath hitching at his orgasm.

You complete it with short shallow thrusts, helping the both of them through the fading waves of pleasure, wringing out the last of their debauched noises. When you pull out of Kaveh, a raspy whine rips from him. Manoeuvring his spent body to lie on his back, you’re pleased to see that the session took, evident from the glowing fuchsia tattoo on his lower abdomen.

Pressing a kiss against it, Kaveh shakes at the increased stimulation. Curious, he peers down at it, ghosting his fingers over it as he watches the tattoo’s glow intensity slowly fade and settle into a faint pink outline.

“The three of us have been unified, we’re bound together now, my dearest lamb.”

Alhaitham lazily rolls over to leave a kiss on Kaveh’s cheek before you pull him in by his clerical collar for a chaste kiss on the edge of his lips.

And suddenly, his Sunday mornings don’t seem so dull anymore. 

[> You add a clerical collar to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 3 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.” “Aw-” Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.”  Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers.  “That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.” OR The Tiefling party draws to a close and you and Astarion head to bed.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (this particular part is 4.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry this had to be posted twice. Apparently the banter was too much for tumblr to handle all in one go. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is smut! Apologies to those of you here for more vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

It ended up taking quite a long time to finish saying your good nights and goodbyes to the tieflings, knowing that they were leaving in the morning and that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to find them when you finally made it to the Gate. 

Alfira had taken an especially long time to say goodbye to, given you were the only other bard she knew currently, and she asked you several questions to aid her in the process of writing her song about you. Lakrissa had watched on with nothing but fondness in her eyes and had hugged and thanked you when it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rolan and his siblings said their goodbyes and Rolan made sure to remind you that he’d be apprenticing under the wizard Larroakan. He drunkenly hinted that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came to say hi once you reached Baldur’s Gate and you promised that you would.

Danis and Bex had giggled through their goodbyes, swearing that they’d get back to the Grove safely tonight before leaving for the city tomorrow. Zevlor had thanked you and assured you he’d see to it that those who partook in too much wine would be shepherded back to the Grove with sober eyes watching them. 

Halsin had given you a big hug and told you he’d return to your camp soon to discuss next steps for getting rid of the parasites. Meanwhile, the kids bid their goodbyes in a wave of emotions; some were excited, some were sad, and others were indifferent. You smiled at the fact that they all still wore or held onto their crowns tightly.  

Polite goodbyes were exchanged with the other tieflings before saying goodnight to your companions and letting Shadowheart know that you would help with cleanup duty in the morning. 

With a yawn and a stretch, your feet carried you back to your tent. When you arrived, you were mildly surprised to see that the flaps of your tent had been drawn and that there was light flickering inside, brighter than the single candle you’d lit earlier. 

You cleared your throat loudly to make it known you were outside. “Are you decent?”

Astarion chuckled from within. “Yes, darling. Though I’m not sure if it would matter.”

You bent down to enter the tent, pushing through the canvas flaps and finding Astarion sprawled on your bedroll, a book open in his hands. He was perched elegantly among your pillows, looking as ethereal as always. 

“No, no, make yourself at home,” you teased, turning to make sure the canvas flaps were shut all the way.

“Thank you, I think I will,” to emphasize his point, Astarion sank himself further into your pillows. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Reading anything good?”

“Mmm, just some strange eel enthusiast’s ramblings that I found on the road.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Oh? And what have you learned?”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Apparently giant lightning eels aren’t technically eels.”

“Huh.”

He sat up straighter, eyeing you mischievously. “Although I was just reading about how they breed in the Sea of Moonshae.”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously trying to seduce me with eel facts, are you?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You’re weird, I don’t know, figured I’d try it.” He shrugged and placed the book off to the side before extending his arms. “Come here, won’t you?”

You crawled towards him, nestling into his arms and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked. 

Before you’d gotten together, you and Astarion would spend entire evenings at his tent reading, either in silence, or to each other, depending on the topic. You’d often try to make each other laugh with silly passages and dramatic readings. It made you look forward to settling in to camp for the night after long days of fighting Mud Mephits and Wood Woads.

He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll like it. I was just distracting myself until you showed up.” He brought his face close to yours. 

You looked back at him in challenge. “Try me.”

He sighed. “Alright.” He picked up the book, still holding you in his other arm. He flipped back to the page he’d left off on. “‘Now, where can you catch eels? Bloody everywhere!’”

You snorted.

“Hush darling, you wanted this.” Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “‘From Neverwinter to Elturel to Calimport - you can find an eel. But where do they breed? And how? Well, you probably heard the stories that they’re just snakes that learned to swim, or they’re baby leviathans, or they’re Underdark spies, but that’s all bunkum.’”

“Not bunkum!” you teased. “And here I thought I knew so much about eels.”

Astarion raised his voice to get you to quiet down. “‘They breed in the Sea of Moonshae, I’m sure, and then swim all over Faerûn. And if those pricks in Candlekeep’d give me money to sail-’”

“Okay, I get the picture.” You took the book from Astarion’s hands and set it beside you.

“Told you, darling,” Astarion settled further into the pillows, bringing his nose against your throat.

You inhaled sharply when he started kissing your neck. “Should I be insulted that you thought it might turn me on?”

“I don’t need some lunatic’s musings for that,” he murmured, lightly dragging his fangs along your flesh. 

You shivered and angled your head to give him better access. “No you don’t.”

He groaned quietly. “You smell divine.” He kissed your neck again.

“You can bite me if you want,” you breathed out. 

Astarion shook his head against you. “It’s alright, love, I’ve had plenty of your blood and wild hog blood and wine today. And you’re tired.”

“How thoughtful of you. But I’m not that tired,” you whined. 

Astarion lifted his head to look at you. “Oh?” He smirked at you impishly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently, kissing your cheek chastely. In one swift motion, he rolled you onto your back, and lifted himself up to hover above you. 

Your eyes widened at him and his smirk grew wicked. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked away, trying to avoid his intense eye contact.

He bent and returned to kissing your neck, licking a stripe from the column of your throat up to your ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to the hem of your blouse and pulling it up over your head.

You tried sounding normal but felt your voice catch in your throat. “Wh-at are you doing?”

Astarion kissed the valley between your still-clothed breasts. “Taking my time.”

You hummed and twisted your fingers into his hair. “You’re sending a lot of mixed messages.”

Astarion looked up at you, his tone seductive. “Is it not obvious how much I want you?”

You laughed softly. “No, you’re making that quite clear, but you said you needed time to get used to having a choice. You’re not forcing yourself, are you?”

A small smile graced Astarion’s features before he surged upwards and kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft. “You’re far too nice to me. It’s disgusting.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “I care about what you want.”

He kissed you again. “Thank you, love, but yes, I’m fine. Tonight was a celebration! And I fully intend on celebrating.” He smirked at you again, flashing his fangs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy. When you didn’t find any, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it by where your new lute rested against your backpack. He climbed back on top of you and kissed you slowly, his tongue seeking entrance only after a few moments of clumsily moving your mouths against one another’s. His tongue glided against your own, and you moaned, once again twisting your fingers into his hair. 

You felt his hand move behind your back briefly, and suddenly he was pulling off your bra, making you whimper. 

He broke the kiss to look at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes. You shifted your gaze away, still not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone else. 

“Exquisite,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss you again and palming your left breast gently. His cool touch caused your back to arch and you whined when your burning chest made contact with his icy one. 

“Why-” you pulled away from Astarion’s kiss.

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you think he chose eels as his hill to die on?”

Astarion plucked a pillow out from under you and placed it on top of your face, pressing gently as if trying to suffocate you.

You laughed wildly. “I yield! I yield!”

He pulled the pillow away and placed it under your head once more. “Mention eels again and I won’t hesitate.” 

“No eel talk in the bedroom, got it.”

“Possibly ever,” Astarion amended. 

“You brought it up in the first place,” you pointed out.

“A mistake I won’t be making again,” he said lowly, before kissing your jaw. He kept kissing down your chest until he reached your nipple and pulled at it lightly with his front teeth. 

You gasped and arched your back again, pulling Astarion’s curls and making him moan against your breast. He detached himself to kiss your lips, then brought his head down to your other breast to give it the same attention. His tongue swirled over your nipple at a languid pace, his cool breath against his saliva causing goosebumps to spread across your chest.

“Astarion?” You asked, angling your head to look at him.

He looked up at you, the flat of his tongue licking your nipple. He retracted it before saying, “Ask another stupid question and I’ll bite you.”

You blew out an amused breath. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Astarion reconsidered. “In a bad way.”

You laughed. “No stupid question this time. I don’t think.”

Astarion sighed, resting his cheek on your breast as if it were a pillow.

You brushed a few loose hairs out of his face. “When will it be my turn to pleasure you?”

Astarion’s eyes went wide before settling on something soft. He took your hand currently raking through his curls and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

You continued. “Especially since I sicced a bunch of kids on you and need to make up for it somehow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Thank you, my sweet, but I think I’d prefer to be in control for now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright,” you said, resting your hand on his cheek. “It just seems unfair that I’m getting all the attention and you’re getting nothing in return.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not true. I’m getting plenty of pleasure just from watching you fall apart,” he smirked and kissed you breast again. 

You inhaled deeply, “I’m serious.”

He humphed and pulled away again. “As am I.” When he saw you weren’t satisfied with his answer, he thought for a moment. “Listen darling, it’s very sweet that you want to,” he cleared his throat, “pleasure me, but as I’ve said, I’m still getting used to… well, this.” He gestured between the two of you. “I don’t really want anyone to touch me without my consent. Unless it’s you.” He avoided your gaze, embarrassed to be admitting this. “But even with that being the case, I’d still feel more comfortable focusing on you for now.”

You nodded and took his wrist that was resting next to your head and kissed it just as tenderly as he’d kissed yours. “We’ll work our way up to it,” you smiled. 

He smiled back, then narrowed his eyes seductively. “Make no mistake, I am having a wonderful time with you,” he brought his forehead to yours. “Feeling you around me is probably one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

You blew out a breath, making your lips trill. “Relax, you’ve only been in me twice. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He waved his hand in front of your face. “Ah, yes love, but you're forgetting the fingers and tongue.” He smirked at you when he saw a blush spread on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “One of these days I’ll make you cum myself.”

Astarion chuckled. “I don’t doubt that,” he kissed your temple. “I await the day.”

“No rush,” you added quickly. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, pulling back to look at you fully again. He sighed happily, palming one breast in each hand. “What was it Withers called me again? A ‘boob buddy?’ A ‘breast friend?’”

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face. “My bosom companion.”

He leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I know love, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Bastard,” you murmured. 

“But I’m so handsome and charming,” he murmured back, kissing you between words.

“Unfortunately,” you said, angling your head upwards when he moved down to kiss your neck again. 

He hummed along your throat, which sent tingles up your jaw that made you giggle. 

“I still plan on taking my time with you, my dear,” he said, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your pants. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“I-” you took a shaky breath, still getting used to Astarion’s undivided attention. “Okay.”

“I’m also keen to leave, if you want me to,” he was giving you an out, in case you were still unsure, but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking: I don’t want to leave.

You gripped his wrist. “Stay.”

He relaxed noticeably and hooked his thumbs into your waistband again. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your hips, helping him get the fabric over your hips and down your legs. He’d taken both your pants and panties in one go, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You bit your thumbnail and looked at him nervously, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.”

“Aw-” 

Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.” 

Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.”

You whimpered, the cool air of the night making contact with your already slick folds. 

“It’s too bright in here,” you said suddenly. “Anyone could see what’s happening.” 

Astarion sat up, having just settled himself between your legs. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He crawled around, blowing out candles, and you sat up, doing the same to a few that were around you. 

“Better?” he asked when all the light in the tent was out, save for the moonlight that was able to shine through the canvas and the torches that were still lit for the party that was dying down outside. 

“Yes,” you said, resuming your position on your pillows. 

“Good,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh and settling between your legs again. He tapped your thigh lightly in warning before licking your folds slowly. 

You gasped loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering that the party was still technically going on outside. 

“Shy, darling?” Astarion smirked up at you and you rolled your eyes, whimpering again when he returned to licking you. “But I love hearing you sing for me.”

He began sucking on your clit, making you shriek out a moan. You felt him smirk against you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair as tightly as you could, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, it made him moan into you, sending delicious vibrations through your core and making you whimper again. 

He returned to licking up and down your folds. “If only you knew how delicious you were.”

“Then kiss me, asshole,” you shuddered, feeling his cold breath against your wet cunt. 

Astarion growled and climbed on top of you, kissing you harshly and making sure to slip his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself. He pulled away, assessing your expression. You smacked your lips dramatically. “Could be better,” you teased. “I’m sure I’m nothing compared to you.” You waggled your eyebrows and Astarion smiled, leaning forward to kiss you again. 

“In time, my love,” he promised, kissing your cheek sweetly before returning to his spot between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began licking you again.

You reached over for your discarded blouse and bunched it up, placing it in your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“No, no,” Astarion scolded. “Let them hear us. You have the loveliest voice.” His thumb pressed tight circles into your clit and you whined before removing the shirt again. “That’s a good girl,” he praised. 

“No funny business,” you said, not liking the smirk on his face that shined with your slick.

“Me? Funny business? Never.” He lowered his face again and you nearly yelped when you felt his tongue dip into your core.

You squeezed his head with your thighs lightly. “Bastard,” you muttered and felt him smile again. As if to tease you more, he began to make loud slurping and sucking noises. “Astarion,” you whisper shouted, despite your eyes wanting to roll back from the sensation.

“Mmm?” He half asked, half moaned wantonly. His tongue continued entering your cunt while his thumb circled your clit.

“Loud,” you sighed absently, trying to be responsible, but feeling too good to be truly mad at him. 

He removed his thumb and returned to sucking your clit. He pulled away for a second to say, “Watch, precious thing, I’m going to make you cum using only my mouth.”

“You’re not going to talk at me, are you?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said between licks, “a joke made you cum earlier.”

“Shut up and keep tongue fucking me,” you groaned.

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs, sucking again at your clit. 

Tiny moans of pleasure escaped you, and you rolled your hips, trying to get impossibly closer to him. He hummed against you pleasantly, making you whine loudly.

“I love your voice,” he repeated and licked another stripe along your folds. His tongue entered your core again, making you squeeze your thighs involuntarily. He moved your legs apart and further locked his arms around your legs, attempting to keep them still. 

“I love whatever you’re doing with your tongue,” you exhaled, raking your hands through his hair again and massaging the tips of his ears.

He let out a moan that turned into a pathetic little laugh and the sensation sent a shockwave through your core. You rolled your hips again, wanting him as close as possible. 

“More,” you whined softly, shutting your eyes tight.

Astarion returned his focus to your clit, sucking hard and swirling his tongue loudly. He began to hum again, more prolonged this time, and you recognized what seemed to be the jaunty melody of “Bard Song.”

It surprised you, and hurled you closer to your climax. “Astarion,” you whimpered.

“Like that?” he murmured against your clit before continuing his ministrations.

“Keep going,” you encouraged. 

You felt him smile again and he continued to hum the tune he must have heard you play a dozen times by now. He nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, all while humming. Your hands tightened in his hair and your legs began to shake.

“Yes,” he said into your flesh, “let go, my love.”

 With a few more harsh sucks and slightly off key hums, you felt yourself reach your peak and cried out loudly for Astarion. Waves of pleasure coursed through you and you felt Astarion eagerly licking around your cunt. 

“So good,” you heard him murmur between licks, “you did so well for me, darling. I adore the way you taste.”

With a sharp inhale, you opened your eyes and smiled down at him, breathless. His eyes were still closed as he cleaned you slowly, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, you saw them crinkle at the corners, indicating he was smiling. 

“There you are,” he said as if just noticing you were there with him, getting up onto his hands and knees and crawling over you again. He bent to kiss you and you sighed against his mouth.

“You like my music,” you looked up at him in wonder and wiped a bit of your slick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly well known song,” he teased.

You made a face and he softened.

“Okay, yes, maybe I’ve been paying attention when you're playing that obnoxious tune.” He brushed some hair out of your face. “It gets stuck in my head, the stupid thing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, making him gasp in surprise. 

“Thank you,” you said softly into his hair.

You weren’t sure you’d ever properly articulate what you were feeling. All this time, Astarion had been paying attention. He’d whined and griped and moaned the entire time you’d known each other, and yet he’d been paying attention. To you, your music, your needs and desires… He was constantly surprising you with how thoughtful he was. He’d been so sweet with what you’d needed from him last night, and then today you learned he’d been holding onto a new lute for you since before he even admitted to himself or you that he had feelings for you. And just now he’d shown that he had always been listening when you played something for him and your companions. He truly hadn’t propositioned you out of the blue yesterday, he’d cared about you for much longer than either of you realized. 

Astarion laughed, relaxing his body against you and settling his face at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “I’m going to assume you’re thanking me for the excellent orgasm you just experienced and say ‘it was my pleasure, darling.’”

You let out an amused breath and mindlessly traced the raised peaks along his back. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you said quietly.

“Yick,” Astarion said, drawing tiny spirals on your shoulder with his index finger. 

“I know,” you agreed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“You flatterer, you,” he kissed your shoulder where his face was buried.

You tapped his back lightly and made to sit up. Astarion took the hint and rolled off of you. 

You leaned forward and grabbed his discarded shirt, pulling it over your head. You inhaled deeply. “Smells like you,” you mused, batting your eyes at him before slipping into your loose sleep pants. 

Astarion looked pleased to see you wearing his shirt again, but his face fell when you peaked out the flap of your tent into camp.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a teasing tone, but you could tell he was a little nervous that you were actually leaving.

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Take your time,” he said airily, examining his nails, though you saw in his eyes that he wanted you to hurry back.

You kissed him again. “You big baby. Stay right there.”

You poked your head out again, looking to make sure no one was in your vicinity. You saw the backs of Shadowheart and Gale huddled near the entrance of camp, sending off the last of the tieflings with Halsin, while Wyll and Karalach’s tents were shut tight, indicating they’d turned in for the night. Lae’zel, meanwhile, appeared to be meditating outside of her tent. 

Good, you thought to yourself, I’ll make this quick.

You crept out of your tent and made your way to the left towards the lakeshore. You grabbed your now dry blanket off the clothesline, folding it over your arm.

As you were about to grab one you recognized to be Astarion’s, Withers’ voice made you jump.

“I heardest you just now.” 

You slowly turned to look at him, his face as impassive as ever. “Like hells you did, Bone Man,” you said through gritted teeth. “No one will believe you.” You thought for a moment. “No, yes they will. But keep it to yourself. I just got a bosom companion, please don’t ruin this for me.” 

You pulled Astarion’s blanket into your arms and swore you saw the corners of Withers’ mouth turn upwards into a smile, but it may have just been a trick of the moonlight. 

“Goodnight, Withers,” you said, grabbing another of Astarion’s blankets off the clothesline. 

“Sleep well,” he responded. “You likely needest it.”

You scoffed out a laugh and turned back towards your tent, quiet on your feet. You crouched down and went to crawl back in, but found Astarion hovering by the entrance.

“Oh,” he said quietly and moved back to let you in. “There you are,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Miss me?” you smirked, tossing him one of his blankets. 

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

You laughed and spread your blanket out over your bedroll. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you intently as you rearranged pillows so that there were no uncomfortable lumps under the blanket. 

“Making a new nest,” you said casually. You wrapped one of his blankets around your shoulders and laid down. You spread your arms, inviting him to join you. 

He hesitated, looking down at the blanket in his arms. 

“Come here, dummy,” you said fondly, sitting up and taking the blanket from him. 

He scooted closer to you, laying on his side, facing you.

You laid beside him, wrapping the blanket on your shoulders around him too, and spreading the other one over both of your legs. 

“Now what are you doing?” he asked.

“Making us cozy so we don’t wake up freezing. It’s been getting colder at night.” You paused. “Does the cold even bother you?”

He nodded. “I can get very cold but-” he cleared his throat. “You want me to sleep with you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did we not do this last night?”

He smirked. “We did, but I don’t know, we were in the middle of the forest, it’s not like you had much choice.”

“Astarion,” you brought a hand up to cup his cheek, “I like you so much. And I want to fall asleep with you as often as you’ll let me.”

A soft smile found its way onto his lips. “You’re a clingy little shit, aren’t you?”

You huffed and dramatically turned over, facing away from him.

He laughed and pulled you closer by the hips. “Only teasing, love.” He kissed your hair.

You looked back at him. “It doesn’t have to be every night, I know you like your space, and we don’t have to cuddle or anything, but-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “Gods, you love to talk,” he said quietly. 

You pouted. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what Withers just said to me.”

He pulled you closer to him, tangling your legs together and settling his nose onto the back of your neck. “I’m sure it was something archaic and mildly cryptic.”

“He said he heard us.”

Astarion leaned up to look at you. “He did not.”

“He did.”

“Of all the…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Who’s he going to tell?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you laughed. “Everyone knows we’re together anyway.”

Astarion smiled at you and kissed your cheek before lying back down. He sighed happily. “That we are, my love. That we are.”

[bangtanficsforyou]

Hello, Love! (JJK)- 01

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don't know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister's fiance wasn't it.

Word count: 2K (approx)

Warning: mentions of drug addiction, familial neglect.

The ring fits Jungkook as if it was meant just for him. Not one bit tight nor is it one bit loose. Snug around his finger as if it has always belonged there.

A round of applause breaks out and he looks at the smiling faces of his family and that of his soon to be in law's. 

As the cheers and claps die down, he takes it as his queue. His hand makes it’s way to his pocket. However, when he is not met with a small square jewellery box, he immediately checks his other pocket. That pocket, too, disappoints him. 

He looks up awkwardly at his fiancee and tries to give her a reassuring smile. Now checking for the pockets of his trousers, he fumbles around to somehow make the box appear out of thin air. 

Realising that he is running out of time, he turns towards Jimin. “Jimin, did I not give you the ring box on our way here?” 

Jimin looks at Jungkook with eyes wide like that of a newborn baby. “No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did,” Jungkook claims with more surety than he actually feels inside. 

“When?!”

“When we were outside–”

“You were talking on the phone—”

“And, I gave it to you while—”

“Here,” Riya offers, with the small red box resting on her palm. Before Jungkook can ask, she answers, “I found it lying on the floor of our balcony.”

Jungkook gives an awkward chuckle in response, trying to play it off. “Jimin has become very careless these days.”

Before Jimin can protest and defend himself, Jungkook shoots him a look that somehow shuts him up. 

Jungkook doesn't waste another minute before taking the ring out and putting it on Riya's fingers. The sooner it is done, the lesser are the chances of running into any other bumps on the road.

Another similar round of applause breaks out and Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. 

The engagement is done. 

“Dad,” Jungkook greets cheerfully as he takes a seat.

“Hmm,” his soon to be father in law doesn't bother looking up as his eyes remain occupied with the official documents he's currently working on. 

Jungkook remains unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm and continues. “You know I'm currently discussing a project with Mr. Elgin, right?’’

“Hmm.”

“And well I was telling him how I'm about to marry your daughter Riya Roy.”

“I see.”

“Do you know the praises he sang for you?”

Now that somehow catches his dear soon to be father-in-law's attention. 

“Did he?” He interlaces his fingers, and relaxes against the chair, temporarily discarding the documents in the process.

“Yes!” Jungkook nods excitedly. “He was telling me how well you would display and advertise your designs to potential investors during the early business days.” 

“What else did he say?” he muses.

“He also told me how well you have single handedly managed the business. How you started it from scratch and made it what it is today.” 

The older man lets out a chuckle. “It doesn't sound too odd for someone to praise me for advertising my clothes in a clothing line business or for working hard when I am the one who started it.”

There's a brief pause where Jungkook seemingly processes the words.

“Now tell me, how much money do you need?” 

Oh. 

Now, it's Jungkook who lets out a chuckle, albeit an awkward one. “You haven't even listened to what he said on learning that you're planning on expanding your business.”

“Trust me, I don't need to know,” comes the reply. “You tell me the amount, I need to get back to work.”

Jungkook considers his options then in the blink of an eye, his whole demeanour changes. “You know how I almost have the contract for this year's cricket world cup?” 

Much like earlier, the man hums. 

“However, suddenly, they have raised the bid by six million.” 

“So you need six million dollars?” 

Jungkook nods, hoping that the amount doesn’t sound as big as it is. 

There’s a pause and then there’s a low hum in response. “Did you return the one million dollar you had taken from Riya?”

“Well I almost have. There’s only a little left to pay back.”

“How much are you yet to pay?”

Sometimes, Jungkook wishes he knew how to read this man a little better. His father in law, undoubtedly, is every bit of the businessman you’d think of him to be. He thinks like a businessman, walks like one and talks like one in every sense possible. 

Jungkook knows that one would never find this man speaking one word, that is not required. And that just makes it all the more difficult to ever get a hint of what his father in law is thinking. 

Sometimes, Jungkook thinks speaking to this man is the equivalent of playing chess with a computer. You’d never know what the next move will be but you can rest assured, that you'll never outsmart them. 

“Some two hundred thousand.”

“That’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

Jungkook pretends he hadn’t heard the question properly, the first time. “Uhm, no that’s the amount I have paid.”

“So what’s the amount you are yet to pay?”

“Eight hundred thousand—,” he replies and then quickly adds, “—but I will pay everything back as soon as the contract is finalised.”

“Sure,” his father in law nods, not buying his words. "I'll need some time to think about it."

“Listen, no matter what, I anyhow, need a meeting to be scheduled with Mr.Shro—I don’t care what his manager is saying about him being busy.”

The wind blows at a steady pace and somewhere in the lobby, a toddler shrieks in joy. 

“Mail his manager as many times as you need to. Just refuse to accept no as an answer.”

Poor Sam, Jimin thinks, pitying the poor boy who didn’t know what he was signing up for when he agreed to be Jungkook’s manager. 

“Yes, yes! Mail them again—not now Jimin!”

Unfortunately, Jimin doesn’t seem to catch the hint and taps him on his back, again. 

“What is it Jim—”, only it is not Jimin. “Sam, I’ll get back to you later.” 

“You asked dad for money.”

Uh oh. Jungkook could tell Riya wasn’t in the brightest of moods, but nothing could have prepared Jungkook for this. 

“Riya why don’t we take this inside?” Jungkook suggests, keeping his voice soft and calm. He hadn’t thought much of it when he was screaming at his manager left and right in the balcony, for everyone to hear. But an arguement between the freshly engaged couple, might just not be that ideal.

“Jungkook, do you not have any self respect?”

I do, in fact that is why I am asking you to move this inside, Jungkook thinks to himself. Instead of speaking the words out, he again, mildly tries to guide her inside a room. 

Riya, however, remains adamant on not cooperating with him. “You tell me, Jungkook, how can i respect a man who has zero self respect?”

“You do—”

“You know what keep your ring, I don’t want it.” In the blink of an eye, the ring that had almost managed to cause a commotion merely a few hours ago, now rests on Jungkook’s palm, again. 

“Riya, what is your problem?” Long gone is the calmness Jungkook was trying so hard to keep. Now, he sounds extremely confused and perhaps frustrated. 

“My problem is the fact that I cannot marry a man who has zero self—”

“It’s not self respect that I lack! Its ego!” Jungkook snaps. “If I know asking for help could get me the opportunity that I have worked so hard for, why shouldn’t I? Plus, it’s not like I have ever failed to pay back.”

There’s a beat of silence, where Jungkook tries to regain his composure. “I don’t understand Riya, the years when you were struggling to make it into the industry, I supported you in every way I could. So now that I'm the one who’s facing struggles, why can’t you find it in yourself to do the same?”

Something in Riya softens at the mention of all the times, Jungkook stood by her side like a rock. Every penny Jungkook earned was spent on Riya’s then struggling career. Lord knows, there were times when she felt like giving up but Jungkook wouldn’t let her. When she lost faith, Jungkook would believe in it for both of them. 

She inhales shakily and looks at the ring and it somehow manages to ground her to why she said yes to Jungkook in the first place. 

“And if it bothers you so much, I won't ask dad for money.”

She nods and then gently takes the ring from Jungkook. It's in that gentle touch of her's that Jungkook knows things are settled, at least for the time being. 

“I'll go look for Mili aunty, I heard she was looking for me,” Riya says, and somehow the abrupt end of argument doesn't surprise Jungkook, in the least. 

As Riya walks back inside, Jungkook releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He finds it a little difficult to believe that Riya almost broke off the engagement. Although he probably shouldn’t be so surprised. 

Over the years, Jungkook has become very familiar with Riya’s habit of breaking up with him at the slightest inconvenience. Now that they are engaged, breaking up means...well, calling off the engagement. 

Arguments with Riya are always like this, short lived but very frequent. Riya would state the reasons why she thinks this won’t work and all the reasons why Jungkook is wrong and then Jungkook would have to remind her of all the reasons as to why the both of them have stuck together for so long. 

Maybe it has always been like this, be it for Riya’s career, or for their relationship, Jungkook has always kept faith on behalf of the both of them when Riya couldn’t. 

Perhaps securing the deal he's currently working on, would finally give Riya the reassurance that she's looking for. Well, he sure hopes so because if this contract doesn't, Jungkook doesn't know what will. 

Getting this deal has the potential of turning you into the equivalent of Leonardo DiCaprio of the event organisation industry. There's simply no looking back from then on. You'd have career stability, money and a reputation among your peers. 

It's probably everything a woman looks for in the man, they are marrying. 

So yeah, he genuinely hopes that he can prove himself to be capable and can put rest to this constant breaking up and patching up cycle the two of them have found themselves in, for years. 

And he's definitely going to give his best, even if that means being rude to his innocent, sweet, doe-eyed manager. 

Chapter two will be up on my Patreon on early access by the end of this week!

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Gentleman

Rafe Cameron x reader

College AU

Smut, 18+ only

Tw: hazing, prostitution if you squint, me being back from the dead after years

Whoever invented nylon underwear was on your personal hit list after today. You understood it was more for show than for go, but seriously, you’ve never been so uncomfortable in your life. Surrounded by the other pledges, you got yourselves dolled up like strippers to be auctioned off to the campus’ leading fraternity. What the fuck, right? It was “for charity,” but you knew that was just an extreme to cover up this ridiculous hazing process. The idea was that all the pledges had to prance around a basement in lingerie in front of a bunch of douchey frat boys and let them bid on a night with you. If you chickened out or didn’t get high enough bids, you’d be dropped. So here you were, applying a final coat of clear lip gloss before being lined up like horses at auction getting ready for slaughter.

“Alright ladies, look alive!” the sorority president yelled as she jaunted through the makeshift dressing room. “These boys have full pockets and hard cocks, let’s not keep them waiting.” Real classy. And the fact that some of these girls actually seemed excited was beyond you. If your whole future wasn’t relying on getting into this sorority, you’d have been gone a long time ago. But here you were, about to whore yourself out for a chance at your dream.

“Layci, you’re first,” you heard as you and the other livestock – I mean, ladies – lined up by the door in the order that you’d drawn earlier in the day. You were third from last. You assumed the boys would all throw their money on the first bunch of girls, meaning the end of the line would be left to fight over the scraps of what was left. And you knew this fraternity too– had heard their name mentioned on campus a lot. Known for using Daddy’s money to throw expensive parties with VIP lists and endless cocaine, their elite functions were held only at country clubs and private beaches, mansions and yachts. Hopefully that at least meant that whatever pig won your bid would be a two-pump-chump and you could be over and done with this whole thing before midnight.

“Push up those titties and pout those lips,” the president shouted with an evil enthusiasm, “the show is about to begin.” She took one last look at the desperate lineup of girls, adorned in the sluttiest garments they could muster. You shouldn’t think too little of them. After all, you were standing among them. You had your own reasons for being here, so you would give the others the benefit of the doubt too. The president skipped out of the room and to the basement, where the bidding would take place. This was all happening in the fraternity house, or mansion you should say. They had set up lights, speakers, and a runway for the annual event. You heard the president through the microphone from where you stood.

“Welcome, gentlemen, welcome! To the annual Kappa Delta Theta bid night for charity!” You heard a hoard of whooping and clinking of glasses. “Let me just say that tonight’s lineup of young ladies is sure to exceed all expectations. Please use your paddles to place your bids as the ladies walk out. Feel free to use those later tonight, too,” she suggested cheekily, and was met with comments dripping in testosterone and entitlement. “All proceeds will go to Kappa Delta Theta’s charity of choice, the Charlotte Food Pantry, which feeds over one thousand families per week.” Well, at least you could get behind that.

“We ask that you please let us know if your chosen lady does not meet your needs. After all, these girls are still proving themselves as honorary members of the Kappa house.” She went on to say, a subtle warning to the waiting girls. “Once you have won your bid, please make your way to the back room where you will meet your lady and be sent to one of the private rooms in the house. After that, the rest is up to you!” Cheers and hollering followed as the president brought out her list of girls.

“Let me introduce you to lady number one, Layci,” she announced as the lighting dimmed and a spotlight was shown on the curtained entryway. Layci breathed deep and plastered a smile on her face before exiting into the room– a gazelle marching into a hoard of lions. “Layci majors in marketing, and enjoys Sunday football and Bud Light Limes. Let’s start the bid at $100.” You struggled to hear the remainder of the bidding amongst the shouting and music until you heard a “Sold! To Trey Parker for $375.” Trey Parker, Jesus. You were glad he hadn’t bid on you, but felt extremely bad for Layci. He was an obnoxious drunk, known for snorting coke and punching walls when his football team lost. This was going to be a long night.

You attempted to dissociate and drown out the rest of the bidding as the girls filed out one by one, but before you knew it, you were face to face with that daunting curtain. The bidding had seemed to slow down a lot, and the room grew quieter as the boys won their bids and moved on to claim their prizes elsewhere in the house.

“Gentlemen, we only have a few ladies left, so let’s see those wallets! Next up, we have a Pre-Law major who enjoys pina coladas and getting caught in the rain, gentlemen give it up for Y/N!” you mustered up all the courage you had, pushed your bra strap up one final time, and walked into the blinding spotlight. You saw the glares of eyes watching your every step, analyzing your body, your face. Never in your life had you felt so vulnerable. Law school. Law school. You reminded yourself of your goal, and that gave you the courage to plaster on a smile and strut down the walkway. Whistles could be heard, but you ignored them and gave a spin before walking back up.

“Let’s start at $100,” she stated as you waited for the inevitable sting of a low bid. After all, you hadn’t put nearly as much thought into this as some of the girls had. Waxing, laser, facials, nails… all you had done was shaved and shown up. A paddle raised in your line of sight. Shit, was that Tanner Marshall? A cocky boy with a beer gut and entitled attitude, you’d heard rumors of his temper. Multiple women on campus had horror stories about him. Please, God, anyone else. Please not him.

Another paddle raised in the corner of your eye from a boy you hadn’t seen before. “$200,” he said quietly as his eyes raked your frame. He was cute, you wouldn’t lie, but you had no reason to believe he was any better than Tanner Marshall. His blue eyes met yours as he adjusted his backwards baseball hat and leaned forward.

“$350,” said Tanner with a smirk.

“$500,” the mystery boy countered without missing a beat.

“Woah, woah, let’s slow down, boys. There’s still a couple other girls after this,” the sorority president countered.

“$600,” Tanner Marshall forced, growing frustrated at the thought of taking a loss.

“$750,” Mystery Boy added, showing no signs of giving up. The highest bid you heard so far was $800. Did you stand a chance at topping that? If you did, they’d have to let you join for sure. To sweeten the pot, you threw a wink towards Tanner Marshall, as much as it sickened you.

“$900,” he said in a pained voice after seeing your flirtatious act.

A silence followed. Shit, you shouldn’t have done that. Mentally prepping for the most traumatic night of your life, you heard a solid “$1,000” from Mystery Boy. All heads turned to him at this extreme bid.

The sorority president seemed shocked at that, but gathered herself and announced, “One thousand dollars, going once,” please, please God please, “Going twice,” let him win and let him be an ounce kinder than Tanner Marshall, “Sold! To Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe Cameron, you’d heard his name mentioned before on campus but had few details to go off. You locked eyes with him once more before making your way back through the curtain and releasing a large sigh. It was over, but it wasn’t. Now came the tough part. Yes, you’d won the highest bid of the night, but now you had to fulfill it. Would he be aggressive? Would he listen to your pleas to be gentle? Would he fuck you and throw you into the hallway like trash after?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you were herded back to the entryway of the house by one of the sorority sisters. She handed you a strip of condoms and said “Good luck,” before leaving you to wait for Rafe Cameron to show up. The seconds felt like days as you paced in your stripper heels, attempting not to roll an ankle. Footsteps sounded in the distance and got closer. You held your breath as Rafe turned the corner and locked eyes with you once more. He let his gaze fall openly down your body once more and then gestured towards the stairs with a smirk. “Shall we?”

The trek to your private room didn’t last nearly as long as you had hoped. As you both entered, he turned to close and lock the door behind you. You stood in the center of the floor awkwardly, waiting for him to give you some cue as to what to do. Should you try to talk to him? Should you kiss? Should you drop your underwear and bend over and let him do what he pleased? This was an entirely new scenario to you, and you had absolutely no idea what to do. He waited as well, hands in his pockets, though not out of nerves. It was a test. He was trying to see if you were forward enough to take action, or if the awkwardness would be too much for you to stand. You held eye contact firm. He seemed pleased with this and broke the tension.

“Y/N, right?”

You nodded in response.

“Face down on the bed, hands behind your back.” Your breathing stopped, and you couldn’t move. So this was the type of night this would turn out to be. You’d be meat. He watched your shocked expression and waited for movement, before cracking a smile and saying “I’m kidding.”

“Oh,” you breathed, relieved and feeling slightly looser.

He kicked off his expensive shoes and hopped on the bed, hands behind his head as he leaned back against the pillows. He patted the seat next to him in a silent order to sit. You perched on the edge of the bed and leaned down to finally take off your excruciating shoes. You sighed in relief once they were off, and spun to sit next to him, still feeling unsure.

“I’m not sure what to do,” you finally admitted, hands picking at each other. His piercing blue eyes made contact with your own. He was extremely confident, and it was a little intimidating.

“Well, we’re supposed to have sex,” he stated plainly, hands still behind his head.

“Right,” you said nervously, “so should we just… start?”

“Why you doing this?” He questioned, the sudden change of topic giving you whiplash. “You don’t seem like you want to be here, so why are you?”

“Uhh,” you thought. Should you lie and act into it? Should you be honest only for him to treat you like a chew toy anyways? “Well, I uh, I just need to get into this sorority.”

“Other ones weren’t fancy enough for you?” he questioned, a joke laced in truth.

“Not exactly,” you started. “There’s a grad school I want to go to. Need to go to. And of girls in this sorority who apply, 90% get accepted. The Dean was a Kappa.”

He nodded in understanding. “That’s a better reason than most,” he finally responded, giving you some comfort. “I was right, though.”

At this, you gave him a questioning look. “Right about what?”

“You’re not Kappa material. That house is for sluts and party girls.” You were caught off guard by his bold language, and somewhat offended at his accusation, though you know deep down that he was right.

“Well then why did you pay $1,000 for me if I’m not a slut?” you countered, trying to throw something, anything, back at him.

“Because you’re smoking. And I know what Tanner Marshall does to girls, and you’re too innocent for that.”

“I am not innocent,” you huffed, glaring at him through a blush. He doesn’t know you. Who does he think he is labeling you like that?

“Oh yeah? How many guys have you slept with?” he argued. You paused. Should you lie? You didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle yourself in the bedroom. Then, he might tell Kappa that you weren’t satisfactory and you’d never get in. Something about his stare, though, demanded honesty. You could see him being a very cut-throat boss or CEO someday.

“...one.”

“One guy, or one time?” Damn him. Was he a mind reader or something?

“.... one time. There, happy now?”

“What did you think?”

“What did I think of what?” you countered.

“The sex. Did you like it?”

You paused. This conversation was taking a turn, but what did you expect from a night like tonight?

“It was… fine,” you admitted.

“Just fine?” he prodded, “did you finish?”

“Wha– that’s none of your business,” you argued. He must have some real ego, asking you a question like that.

“So, no,” he stated. Your intense blush only confirmed his remark.

He smirked to himself, contemplating his next words.

“So, Y/n, here’s my offer.” He was definitely a business bro in the making. “We can stay in here for 20 minutes, make some crazy noises, and you can tell everyone we had sex so you can get into your precious sorority. No hard feelings. Or, you can actually let me fuck you. You’ll learn what good sex is supposed to feel like, and walk out of here an honest woman.”

What an insane offer. He was giving you a free pass to get out of this after dropping $1k for a night with you. He would let you walk away and tell everyone you had gone through with it. What was the catch?

“What makes you think I’ll like it any better with you?” you countered, feeling defensive.

“Oh, trust me, you will,” he smirked again. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid cute face. Damn him. Why were you even considering this? You should take the free pass and run, you thought. But for some reason, you stopped. He was super hot, and you were in college. There was nothing wrong with wanting to get a little more experience, especially if you were going to spend your entire school career in the library doing test prep. You know what? Maybe you should do it. After all, he spent big money to save you from a worse fate, and was giving you options right now. You wondered how many of the other pledges were wishing they had that offer tonight.

“Okay,” you breathed, feeling emboldened by your choice.

“Okay, what?” he quipped.

“Okay, we can… do it,” you responded, again feeling shy but trying to power through it. His face lit up with a laugh at your phrasing.

“Well then, come here, sweetheart,” he muttered, pulling you closer to him by the hips as you gasped. You were fully lying down next to him now, and he was leaning over you with a hand on your inner thigh, your leg pushed up against his stomach. He leaned down and confidently took your lips with his own. You squeaked in surprise at his boldness before sinking further into the mattress and shutting your eyes. He kissed you slowly, yet dominantly, tongue peaking out to brush your lips before retreating so as not to scare you with too much, too fast. His one elbow remained propped by your head as his other hand rubbed soft patterns on your thigh. That felt nice, you thought, as your body grew hotter. If the rest of the night was going to be anything like this, you were in for it.

Breathing heavily, you pulled away for air as he brought his mouth to your neck. He licked a firm stripe up the side, pulling another gasp out of you, before sucking down on a patch of skin. He soothed with his tongue before lightly biting, being sure to leave a mark. You began to writhe underneath him at the sensation, which he definitely noticed.

“Feelin’ good?” he muttered, face still buried in your neck. You felt the urge to tease him as he had been teasing you all night.

“It’s… fine,” you giggled, attempting to knock his confidence. But he only sucked harder at this, drawing a yelp from you. He sat up on his knees before you and tore his t-shirt off in a fervor. He paused for a moment, giving you time to pump the brakes. However, you took that time to admire his defined torso, lined with lean muscle and veins trailing down below his waistband. You wanted to find out where they lead. He adjusted his backwards hat and lowered himself onto the bed between your legs, hooking your thighs over his shoulders. He began to kiss your inner thighs before you stopped him.

“We can skip this part,” you said breathlessly. He looked at you, confused.

“Why?”

“I just… I don’t really like it, is all,” you admitted. He looked at you like you just spoke Chinese.

“You’ve had one guy who had no idea what he was doing eat you out. I’m doing it, and you’re gonna like it. Besides, I’m not fucking you without getting you warmed up first.” He said it almost as an order, and you had no choice but to let him continue. Maybe it would be different this time. You doubted it, but it was possible. He used a hand to push you back down on the bed and began kissing your thighs once more. You were only in a bra and underwear, so he had easy access to you, but he didn’t go straight for it just yet. He kissed and sucked around your thighs and hips, careful not to touch your center. He was being a tease.

You lost yourself in the feeling and began to writhe once more. Noticing this, Rafe brought a hand down to pull your underwear to the side, and met your center with a soft kiss. Your nerves were all lit up at this point, so even the small motion felt great. Your hips bucked up for more friction, but he pulled away.

“What do you say?” he teased.

“Please,” you pleaded without any thought to it. He mumbled a ‘fuck’ at this, and commented, “What a good girl you are.” He brought his mouth back down and began to lick stripes up your center before suckling on your clit. This action caused a small moan to leave your mouth, which only encouraged him more. He continued these motions for God knows how long, licking, suckling, kissing, until you were a squirming mess underneath him. Then, he brought a single finger to your center, swirling it around your hole to collect your juices, before pushing it inside you to the second knuckle. He paused here so as not to hurt you, and waited for a reaction. When he found none, he pushed his digit all the way in, and studied your face as he brushed your inner wall in a “come here” motion. You gasped as your eyes shut closed and your head dropped back. Shit, that felt good.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as he kept up this motion, adding his mouth back into the mix once he was satisfied with your facial expressions. The combination of his mouth and finger was insane. You’d never felt anything like this before, even by yourself. This must have been what girls were talking about when they raved about oral.

“Oh my God, Rafe,” you sighed. He moaned in response, grinding his hips into the mattress. After several more minutes of this, he sat up and looked for the strip of condoms that had been forgotten on the floor. Standing from the bed and tearing one off, he dropped his pants and tore the packet open with his teeth. You admired him. He was straight out of a Greek myth, all corded rope muscles and a jawline that could cut a man. His tall frame overtook the room, and his dick… it was… big. Big enough to have you concerned. The last guy you had been with was half the size, and the pain was excruciating. Rafe saw your concerned face.

“Y’okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just, um… “ he waited patiently for a response. “Would you mind, maybe, like… starting kind of… slow?” you finally managed to drag out.

He looked at you again with a hint of laughter on his face.

“Honey… I’m not just gonna jam it in you,” he laughed. “We’ll take it easy. I’m not a monster.”

You giggled with him at this and relaxed into the bed once more. He kneeled before you on the bed looking like a Calvin Klein ad. Hands beside your head, he lowered himself on top of you and gave you a sweet kiss. He lined himself up and asked, “Ready?”

You nodded and felt him push his tip through your folds. He pressed carefully into you as you stiffened at the stretch. His face was buried in your neck once more, kissing up and down softly. Feeling your tense muscles, he whispered an order. “Breathe,” he soothed, the hand that wasn’t holding himself up petting your hair. You did as told and attempted to relax your body. He slid further in and paused to let you adjust.

You peeked down at your joined bodies and saw that the fullness you felt inside of you was only half of his length.

“Jesus,” you sighed.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, holding you steady. His words were the only thing keeping you grounded in that moment as you tried to manage the stretch of him. When he was most of the way seated, he pulled out a couple of inches and carefully pushed back in. You felt the drag of him on your walls, and let out a sigh. The sensation was bordering on painful, but the pressure of his tip inside you was a needed and pleasurable distraction. He did this once more, pushing deeper in this time, and continued this motion until he was fully seated inside of you.

“How’s it feel?” he questioned.

“It’s a lot,” you breathed, unsure how to describe it.

“I know baby, I know,” he comforted, hand still petting your head. “Let’s get you goin’, yeah?”

You nodded, though you would have agreed with anything he said in that moment. He dragged himself out halfway and pushed back in. He was still being gentle, but was definitely picking up the pace and made sure to watch you for any signs of discomfort. He sat up to a kneeling position between your legs and brought his hands to your waist, holding you steady for him. He worked into a quicker pace and brought a thumb to your clit, drawing small circles. This had you bucking your hips to meet his, soft moans beginning to leave your mouth. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back, falling into the moment.

Seeing you relax, he cooed, “There you go.”

“Oh my God,” you sighed, brows scrunching at his relentless rhythm. This was nothing like your last time, and you were so grateful for that. His thumb quickened on your clit, drawing higher and louder moans from you. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned loudly, only spurring him on further. His own moans joined yours, and you felt your stomach tighten. You tensed, and he noticed, not changing a thing about his actions until you were seeing stars. Your whole body tightened as you came, thighs trembling and mouth hanging open in a silent scream, and he watched every second of it, keeping pace until you peeled his hand off your center, the feeling becoming too much to handle. He dropped his hand, but remained constant with his hips until you saw his own face begin to scrunch. He moaned a “Fuck, Y/N” as he spilled into the condom, and paused for his own high to blow over before pulling out of you gently. You felt an emptiness in you then, wanting him back inside of you but knowing you both needed a break. After throwing away the condom, he came back to lay beside you on the bed, heavy breathing matching your own.

Your eyes remained closed, but you became conscious of how long you were lingering. Wasn’t that rule number one of hook-ups? You were supposed to leave right after?

“Sorry, just give me a second and I’ll go,” you huffed, still catching your breath.

He looked over at you and, after realizing what you said, spoke, “you’re not going anywhere.” You looked at him in slight confusion.

“We’re gonna snuggle and then go get some food. I’m fucking starving after that.”

“Okay,” you conceded. Again, you would have agreed to anything that man had said in that moment. You didn’t have the energy or will power to put up a fight. He pulled you onto his chest and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead and soothing your skin with his fingers. You sighed and shut your eyes, soaking in the moment.

“So?” he prodded, that same cocky tone as before lacing his voice.

“So, what?” you teased.

“I’m guessing by your volume that you liked it,” he retorted. You felt yourself blush at this, not realizing that you had been particularly loud. He felt your embarrassment and comforted with a laugh, “It’s okay, I like loud. It was hot.” All you could do was giggle and bury your face in his chest.

“Hungry?” he changed the subject. You nodded, and he sat up and said, “Get dressed, gorgeous.” You looked down at the wrinkled lingerie that still adorned your figure, realizing that you didn’t have anything else to wear. You certainly couldn’t wear this in public. This wasn’t Vegas. He saw where your gaze landed and seemed to understand. After putting on his joggers, he walked over to you with his shirt and put it over your head, pulling the sleeves over your arms. “Doordash it is, then.”

[phantom-0-writer]

I actually thought of this prompt like forever ago and i rly wanted to write a whole story for it but i couldn't think of a plot that would stick to it and make sense without adding too many outside elements and in my opinion over saturating the story. BUT i do have a bunch of scenes of danny and damian in my head about this also also some danny and other batfam members.

So anyways your order has been delivered...

original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

scene two: tim's arch nemesis

table of contents

-------------

scene 01: damian's not-so-very-bad day

“Father, you wanted to speak with me.” Damian said, trugging into his Father’s study late into the afternoon per Pennyworth’s behest. 

Father looked up from his work at Damian’s arrival, Drake gave him a look of annoyance that Damian returned with a sneer. “Damian.” Father greeted as he reached Father’s work station. “I spoke with your principal earlier today.” Damian huffed and crossed his arms in defiance at whatever accusation he was about to be handed, “Put your frown away, you're not in trouble.” Father chuckled lightly. 

Damian frowned. He was not a child, he did not need to be treated like one. 

“There’s a mentorship program at your school.” Father started, Damian raised an intrigued brow at him. 

Perhaps Father had succeeded in seeing his potential, “Well I suppose I wouldn’t mind mentoring one of the many underlings at the so-called academy.” Damian sighed, letting his arms fall to his side, as he looked up at his Father. 

Father blinked at him, processing what he had said, then glanced at Drake who looked like a fraying rope length away from bursting into laughter. “The mentorship program… it’s for you.” Father tried hesitantly. 

“Yes.” Damian nodded in understanding. 

There was an uncomfortable silence from Father.

“He means that you're the one getting mentored.” Drake laughed at him, shoulders shaking. 

Damian turned to Father. But the denial never came. “What!” Damian couldn’t help scream in outrage. “You want me to get mentored by some hillbilly civilian who can't tell a katana from a wakizashi?” He slammed his hands on Father’s table. 

Father looked at him with disapproval, but said nothing, not caring enough to discipline Damian. 

“Hillbilly civilian.” Drake croaked from the corner of the room, draping himself dramatically over one of the side sofas. 

“You’re to meet him first thing tomorrow when you get to school. Here’s his student profile, if you're interested.” Father handed him a singular paper. 

“Father I do not need-” 

“It’s already been arranged Damian, atleast give it a try.” Father said with a sigh, picking up his files again in a silent dismissal of Damian. 

The paper crumpled slightly as Damian stormed to his room.  

Daniel James Fenton. 

“Let’s see how long you last.” Damian eyed the picture of the smiling teen. 

---

“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Pennyworth bid, as they all got out of the car. 

“Later, Alfred.” Thomas waved at the butler as he drove off. 

They all walked in the same direction to enter their classrooms, when Drake stopped him in his path. “Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” he asked cheekily.

“Tsk.” He was hoping to be able to make it to his class before the others noticed, then continue to evade the principal and other faculty if need be required. To be foiled so early into his plan, furthermore by Drake, was humiliating. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” Drake continued to smother his victory over Damian. 

“I was just on my way.” He huffed, turning around annoyed. Drake and Thomas snickered as he retreated. 

Damian knocked on the familiar oak doors. “Come in.” Mr. Carson called from the other side. Damian entered, and plopped down on the same chair he sat in every time he had been sent here. “Ah Damian. Goodmorning.” He waited for a reply, but when he realized he wouldn’t be getting one he continued on, “Mr. Fenton should be here any minute, but I’m glad you were able to come here on your own accord.” Mr. Carson talked as he hung up his jacket and took a seat at his chair. 

Damian could only watch the seconds tick by as he sat in that office. He wondered absentmindedly if Fenton didn’t show up would he be free. The knock at the door decimated all hopes Damian had for that. 

“Ah, that must be Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Carson mused out loud, “Come in.” 

Fenton entered the room hesitantly, greeting Mr. Carson with a small smile. Fenton was a scholarship student and held reasonable grades so his intellect was not to be underestimated, though often simply being able to score well on tests did not translate to having adequate life skills. Fenton was taller than Drake, but still average, dark hair, tanned skin, gray-blue eyes. When Damian’s supposed mentor looked at Damian for the first time since he had entered the room, Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was caught in a stare off with a beast. 

The way Fenton examined his surroundings reminded Damian of the League of Assassins. Careful, analytical and tactical. All things Damian had excelled in. But there was something different about Fenton than what Damian had often seen in the League. His eyes were softer than those that had trained Damian. Damian couldn’t understand why his eyes looked like that. 

Fenton smiled at him in a way that was likely meant to be kind, “Hi, you must be Damian. I’m Danny.” He stuck out his hand for Damian to shake. 

Damian did not take the hand, instead he turned to principal Carson, “When can I leave?” He asked board, subtly eying Fenton’s reaction in his peripheral vision. 

“We have to iron out the finer details and the both of you will be free to go until we see each other for our weekly check in every Friday.” Principal Carson started, “Mr. Fenton why don’t you take a seat. 

Undeterred by Damian’s lack of interest, Fenton took a seat. Mr. Carson explained to Fenton his responsibilities as a mentor and what would be expected of him, Fenton in turn nodded along attentively. After his long explanation of the whole program the both of them were free from his office, and excused from classes until lunch to “get to know each other better”.

Damian translated that to having until lunch to show Fenton that he was out of his depth and have him running with his tail between his legs. 

“So…” Fenton drawled trying to buy time to think of something adequate to say no doubt, “How about we go to the library to hang out?” Fenton offered. 

Damian simply huffed in agreement as they made their way to a pair of sofas tucked between the many rows of books. 

“So, Damian, uh, what do you like to do after school?” Fenton asked unoriginally. 

Damian turned so he could meet Fenton eye-to-eye. “Train.” He said honestly. If he plans on scaring him off then leaning into the superficial things he learned in the League would do him well. 

“Oh, you do sports?” Fenton asked inquisitively. Damian was momentarily thrown off by his show of genuine interest in his personal life, but Damian quickly collected himself. Fenton was merely putting on an act to get him to open up, Damian would be a fool to fall for it. 

“No.” He scoffed at the thought of sports, “I train for battle,” He made sure to put as much confidence as he could in his voice. Oftentimes in the past when he had told his peers of his activities they had brushed him off and laughed at him, Damian wondered if Fenton would have a similar reaction. 

“Hardcore.” Fenton nodded in awe.

Damian blinked, “You believe me?” He found himself whispering. 

“Well, yeah.” Fenton responded as if it were the most obvious thing, in fact, he seemed confused as Damian’s bafflement. 

Damian quickly collected himself, “Well of course you should believe me it’s the truth, I’m a highly skilled blade user.” He nodded to himself. 

“Blade user, huh? Do you prefer katanas or wakizashi? Or a classic long sword maybe.” Fenton asked eying Damian as if it would help him find the correct answer. 

“Katanas obviously.” Damian scoffed, “They’re incredibly balanced, strong, and give you incredible control over your attacks. Wakizashi are also a good option if you prefer close combat and if you’re fighting in an area with a lot of obstacles.” Fenton hummed and nodded at his explanation, and Damian found himself continuing, “Long swords are originally from the Bavaria and Switzerland regions during the medieval times-”

[that1emowitch]

One shot suggestion: Dick finding out about joyfire bc him finding out his little brother is dating his EX (and honestly probably his other ex too, let’s be real) IS SO FUNNY

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!

(also can I just say I also love ur username <3)

This isn't short enough to be a drabble but not exactly too long either, it's 760 words, so make of that what you will. Here it is!

TW: Jason's usual level of swearing but milder

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!"

Dick stood in Jason's doorway at the Manor, eyes wide. This was one of those rare times when Jason was staying here, just for a few days, mostly for Alfred's sake. His friends (or so Dick thought) Roy and Kori had joined him— for reasons unknown.

Dick was... feeling slightly awkward with them being around, Kori more so. He was quite civil, buddies, even, with Roy— after all, they'd only dated for a week or so. But Kori... their relationship had not ended well, at all. But Jason refused to unless his Outlaws did, so Dick let it slide.

He'd gone up to call them down for dinner, at Alfred's bidding, going to Jason's room first... to find Jason sitting on Kori's lap while she cradled him, and Roy french-kissing Jason.

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!" The words tore out of him as he stood with his eyes wide, trying to process what he'd just seen.

Jason turned beet red, suddenly jumping away from the red heads. Kori sat cross-legged, smiling as if nothing had happened, while Roy wore a smug grin.

Dick turned to them, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "AND YOU ARE DATING MY LITTLE WING?"

"I ain't little, Dickface," Jason scoffed from the corner, looking downright embarrassed.

"I don't see the problem," Kori stood from the bed, towering over all three men. "You and I, or you and Roy are not dating anymore. And we are all adults. And we have the love for each other. Why would we not date?"

A unbelieving sound escaped Dick. He turned to Roy, eyes flaming. "You. I know for a fact how vulgar you get in a relationship. Have you done it with my baby brother?"

From across the room he heard Jason's choked gasp, but he paid it no mind.

"Dude. Your 'baby brother' is 24." Roy shrugged, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Why're you getting so worked up over it?"

"I'm not— no, no, I'm not worked up!" Dick scoffed. He faced Jason, pouting. "You. You stole my exes!"

Finally, Jason managed to get control over his expression and forced a smirk. "Yeah. Maybe they just know who's better."

"Yes, Jason is a much better of the partner than you, Dick," Kori pointed out not-so-helpfully.

Roy finally registered Dick's bloodthirsty expression and backed away, hands lifted. "Whoa, hey, man, chill. Seriously."

"I am chill," Dick snapped, glaring at him. He turned back to Jason, who was clearly trying to appear cool and intimidating, and pointed an accusing finger. "You have so much to explain. But right now Alfred wants you all down for dinner."

Then he left the trio without a word.

A bit after dinner, Dick finally found Jason alone in the library, reading some book titled 'Jane Eyre'.

"Jason." Dick walked towards him, expression a forced calm. "I am... sorry about how I reacted earlier."

Jason looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. "No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Dick agreed, sitting beside his brother. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't tell the rest of the Bat-cult either. You're not special." Jason leaned back, carefully placing a bookmark in the book before putting it aside.

Dick took this as a sign that Jason wanted to talk. "Jaybird... I'm your big brother, you know I love you, right?"

Jason looked away, muttering something that sounded like a mix of "Fuck off" and "Yeah, I know."

"It's just... If you'd told me, yeah, I might have freaked out at first. But I just want you to be happy, in the end. And if you're happy with my exes..." Dick sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with it."

Jason turned back to his brother, glaring slightly. "Stop calling them your exes. That's my girlfriend and boyfriend you're talking about."

Dick winced. "Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I just... Do you just have a thing for redheads? You had that schoolboy crush on Babs when you were, like, 13. You were dating Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. And now you're dating Roy and Kori."

Jason scoffed. "You're one to talk. You've dated Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally West... Do I really have to go on?"

Dick chuckled, laying an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"We're adopted, asshole," Jason grumbled, but leaned into Dick's touch.

After a long beat of silence, Jason spoke up again. "I also dated Rose Wilson for a while. She is not a redhead."

An amused laugh escaped Dick, and he ruffled Jason's hair lovingly. "Yeah, yeah."

[madlittlecriminal]

[02] Secret Ingredient⥓ Mafia!Miguel O'Hara × Female!Baker!Reader

y'all, im sorry. i was sick. im back now though, so hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: mention of losing sleep, mentions of dana, mention of brothels, mentions of exotic dancer clubs

series masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

Miguel lost sleep that week.

The fact that you were the owner of the bakery he had his eye on was upsetting. Even though he still had to get to know you, he wasn't sure if he could if there was a possibility of falling in love with you and he wasn't sure if he was ready to risk it. Obviously, there were other reasons why his relationship with Dana ended. It was true that he didn't want her to have control over his club, but it stemmed from more than just business partnership.

Dana wanted to be the owner because she wanted to change things and he didn't want that. She wanted to make it into a brothel, but he didn't want that. Not only did he already have exotic dancers at their own clubs that catered to all genders since he preferred being inclusive, but he also hated thinking of how some men are gross and just disrespectful. In his clubs, he had strict rules, and he knew Dana wouldn't have enforced those rules; he didn't want it to come bite him in the ass.

This was different though.

You were different.

He felt weird, going to the club earlier just to get the chance to see you.

He hasn't stepped foot in your bakery since he met you. Lyla and Jess have been on his ass about meeting you again. They couldn't understand why their boss was being weird about a woman, but Peter did.

Miguel had a conversation with Peter which helped him out a little, but he wouldn't admit it to his face; he had to push his shy boy out the way in order to talk to you, but he didn't know how.

So, he decided to pay you a visit on his day off at Alchemax.

You were dealing with a girl who was currently doing cake testing for her quince (sweet 15) which made him smile softly when you gave her a piece of Neapolitan cake since she couldn't decide between chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

"This is the alternative if you don't want to do separate layers of cake." You say, making Miguel's body tingle with heat as red painted his cheeks.

He quickly concluded that he could listen to you talk for hours.

"It's amazing!" The fourteen-year-old jumped a little after swallowing the piece of cake, making you smile.

"I'm glad you like it." You look up and give Miguel a grin, making his legs shake slightly.

"We'll take this one." Her father said with a grin while ruffling his daughter's hair and pulling out his wallet.

"Great! When do you need it by?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you look between the mother, the father and the daughter.

"About four months from now. It's the last thing we need."

You nod, giving them the price of the deposit and taking the list of cake ideas from the girl before bidding goodbye.

When they left, your eyes met Miguel's again, making his heart race.

"How can I help you?" You scan him quickly, taking note of his leather jacket, the white shirt that peaked from underneath it along with his black jeans and the same ruby colored sunglasses from your first encounter.

He gives you a shy smile before looking at the desserts, biting the inside of this cheek. "Surprise me."

You raise a brow. "Are you sure about that?"

He nods.

"You hardly know me and you're trusting me to surprise you with a dessert?"

He nods again.

"What if I poison you?" You joke.

"Querida, if you wanted to poison me, you would've done it when we first met." He states. (Darling/Dear)

You blink up at him before opening your mouth to say something, closing it and repeating the process once more before turning your back and grabbing gloves, a wax tissue sheet along with a paper bag and making your way to the kitchen.

His face goes red with embarrassment as he looks at the ground. He makes his foot graze your tiles like a child embarrassed or shy to ask a question. However, he noticed one of your tiles were cracked and another that was actually missing.

"Ah, don't mind the floor. It happened two days ago." You rest the bag on the counter that contained a few pieces of tamriyeh that you just finished preparing.

"How?" He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"A woman stomped her bulky heels on the cracked one and she kicked the other when she saw it was loose." You explain with a shrug before giving him the total.

He raises a brow before giving you $10. "Why did she do that?"

You snicker. "She was annoyed I got her order wrong, telling me I was a fake baker because my treats weren't as good as her mother in law's desserts, but I never advertised them to be better."

He rolls his eyes at the ignorance of the woman and takes the bag. "Thank you. Keep the change and don't worry about the receipt."

You sigh. "Are you ever going to ask for the change or the receipt?"

"Probably not. Have a good day and stay safe." He walks out, leaving you stunned.

"When I catch you, Ruby..." You say softly as you watch his tall figure walk away with a glare before taking the receipt and putting it away and putting the cash in the register.

———

tags:

@deputy-videogamer @barbiecrocs @deepinballs @faimmm @wakeupr41 @bubblegumfanfics @smartyren @kimmis-stuff @latenightcravingz @youcantseem3 @corpsebridenightamare @thedevax @cicithemess @diannana

*if you do not get the notification, i put the link of your blogs because it wasn't allowing me to tag you.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Lauren Gambino at The Guardian:

With the full support of the California delegation, Kamala Harris has earned enough delegates to become the Democratic party nominee. Speaker emerita Nancy Pelosi made the motion to endorse Harris for president at a virtual meeting of California’s DNC delegation on Monday evening, a spokesperson confirmed. Pelosi, who represents San Francisco in Congress, announced that with the endorsement of California’s delegation, Harris – a native Californian – had earned enough delegates to win the Democratic nomination for president. Earlier on Monday, top Democrats rallied to support Harris in their bid to defeat Republican Donald Trump. Harris was headed to the battleground state of Wisconsin on Tuesday as her campaign for the White House kicks into high gear. The event in Milwaukee will be her first full-fledged campaign event since announcing her candidacy. Joe Biden’s departure freed his delegates to vote for whomever they choose at next month’s convention. And Harris, whom Biden backed after ending his candidacy, was working to quickly secure support from a majority.

[...] According to an Associated Press tally, Harris had 2,214 delegates, well beyond the simple majority needed to clinch the nomination on the first ballot. The survey is unofficial, the AP said, as Democratic delegates are free to vote for the candidate of their choice when the party formally chooses its candidate. [...] Democratic National Committee chairman Jaime Harrison vowed that the party would deliver a presidential nominee by 7 August. A virtual nominating process before the national convention in Chicago, beginning on 19 August, is still needed. [...] The DNC had said earlier that a virtual vote would take place between 1 August and 5 August, in order to have the nomination process completed by 7 August, the date by which Ohio law had required a nominee to be in place to make the state’s ballot.

In just over a day since taking the reins of succeeding Joe Biden on the 2024 Democratic Presidential ticket, Vice President Kamala Harris has accumulated enough delegates to become the apparent Democratic nominee.

The nomination of Harris must still be formalized in a roll call vote to make it official. #Harris2024 #Harris47 #YesWeKam #Momala #MadamePresident

[bitethedevil]

The Virtue of Chastity (Chapter 1/2)

Tags: Corruption, Dark!Raphael, Dub-Con, Nun gets corrupted by devil-trope

TW: Dubious Consent, Depictions of Illness, Death, NSFW Content, Mention of Thoughts of Suicide

AO3 LINK

(Chapter 2)

Summary:

A cleric of Ilmater is mourning the loss of someone dear to her. Lucian, an earlier patient of hers who she loved dearly, had died from his illness, but not before revealing that he had sold his soul to a devil. Destroyed by the knowledge she cannot save him from his suffering in the afterlife, she runs into a strange man by the name Raphael. He says he can fix it all and bring her the soul of her dear Lucian.

He is also oddly fascinated by the fact that she has sworn a Vow of Chastity, and he seems to know an awful lot about her and her relationship with Lucian.

AN: Basically: Nun gets corrupted by the devil-trope. Raphael is a bit of a creep in this one. Not my most edited fic. I wrote this whole thing over the span of a day, but felt like sharing anyway.

It was a warm summer’s day. The birds were singing, and the sun was kissing her tear-stained cheeks, almost as if everything around her was reveling in her suffering. She just could not stop crying. As a cleric of Ilmater she had done everything she could to save Lucian, and yet, it had not been enough. Ilmater had bid her to bear the sufferings of others, but this time she had been robbed of the opportunity to do so.

When Lucian came to the temple the very first time, he had already been sick for months. The disease was taking more and more each day, but it was an excruciatingly slow process. She had gotten to know him well. Despite all the pain he was in, he had always found it in him to make jokes and keep his spirits high in her company. They had become close.

It was clear that Lucian also wanted more, but he did not want to burden her when he knew that he was going to die, and it was not as if she was able to return his love either. She was trying to live up to the virtue name she had taken on after her parents died and she swore a vow. The act of loving someone else in that manner was forbidden. She was not supposed to have relationship or love anyone above others. Her purpose was to serve the Crying God and thus her purpose was to suffer.

Her biggest trial in suffering began when the sickness had started eating at Lucian’s mind. She had gone to his bed to tend to him, as she always had, and one day he did not recognize her. His eyes had widened in fear as he looked at her red skin and the horns on her head, and he had recoiled from her, shouting: ‘No no no, leave me alone, devil! You can’t take my soul! I’m not dead yet! Please!’

Her heart sank at his words, and she knew that he would never find peace, not even in death. Ilmater would not be able to soothe his soul in the afterlife, for his soul had already been given away. Not a tenday after, Lucian died and was then buried in the graveyard outside the temple. She had come there to sit at his grave every time she could sneak out there without any of the other clerics noticing.

She heard a sound behind her and quickly dried the tears from her eyes before getting up in a hurry. She cleared her throat and turned her face downwards so that he would not be able to see that she had cried.

“Forgive me,” she hurriedly apologized and dried off more of her tears with her sleeve, trying to ready herself to face who she thought to be Father Marcus. “I was just getting some sun. I will be in for prayer in a moment.”

“Please, take your time,” she heard some say in a smooth voice that was not Father Marcus’s. “I am in no hurry.”

She turned around. It was a darkhaired man in clothing that looked to be more expensive than the homes of some of her patients. He was leaning on a cane. She lowered her head and forced a polite smile.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I thought you were someone else. Our Martyred Father welcomes you to his temple. Can I help you, Saer?”

The man smiled and then moved closer to her. A pained expression came over his face as he began to walk. She quickly moved over to him once she saw that his legs were troubling him. She let him lean on her as she moved him to sit on the bench. He was wearing some expensive perfume and there was some other unidentifiable smell that violated her nostrils as she did so, though she was too polite to wrinkle her nose at it.

“Thank you, dear,” the man said. “I have come for the ‘alleviation of my suffering’ as so many others do at this temple of yours. I merely wanted to have a look around, when I stumbled upon you.”

That did seem odd. She could not help looking him over again. The temples of Ilmater usually only helped the poor, the old and the unfortunate. This man looked like he did not fall into any of those categories. He was middle-aged and clearly wealthy. He smiled at her expression.

“Yes, I am aware that I may not look like your other patients,” he said. “Though I can assure you that I am in dire need of help, with no family or loved ones to take care of me. Please sit.”

She lowered her gaze. She had not meant to be so transparent in her thoughts. She sat down beside him, leaving some space between them.

“Apologies,” she said. “Any and all who are suffering are welcomed in the temple.”

He chuckled at that.

“My, what an apologetic young lady you are,” he said. “You have not wronged me in any way or sense, dear, so let us put a lid on all the ‘forgive me’s and ‘apologies’. It does get so awfully tiring with repetition in conversation.”

“Forgive—” she stopped herself and sighed before looking at him with a polite smile. “I should go inside, Saer.”

When she looked at him, there was a hint of concern on his features. He reached out and cradled her face with his hand and ran a thumb over her cheek. She froze completely at the touch.

“You’ve been crying,” he cooed. “Poor thing.”

She removed his hand with the wariness of someone removing a knife that was being held to their throat.

“Saer—”

“Raphael,” he said.

“Raphael…” she repeated and gave him a tight smile. “I had thought that Father Marcus might have explained this to you when you arrived, but it is strictly forbidden to touch any of the clerics here. But no worries…You did not know, but please do remember this in the future.”

“My apologies,” he said in a tone that slightly suggested that he did not mean it in the least. “I too have a difficult time ignoring other people’s suffering, I’m afraid. I would assume we have that in common, my dear. What is your name?”

“Chastity,” she said and folded her hands in her lap.

“Chastity…” he repeated, a smile widening on his face “What a lovely name…And why is it that the clerics here are not to be touched? I would assume that you are allowed to touch your patients, or else it would make your mission here very difficult.”

“Some of the clerics here have taken vows,” she explained. “We touch the patients, yes, but they are not allowed to touch the clerics.”

He nodded. He kept trying to chase her eye contact with the angle of his head every time she lowered her gaze.

“Aah yes, I see,” he purred. “There are three different vows that clerics of Ilmater can undertake, isn’t there? Should I venture a guess which category you fall under, Chastity?”

She smiled at his little joke out of politeness.

“You are quite observant,” she said.

“That I am. So, tell me, Chastity,” he said. “Who is this ‘Lucian’ to you? It was his grave you were weeping at, was it not?”

She looked up at him at the mention of Lucian’s name. Her expression fell into one of sadness, but she quickly schooled her features.

“A former patient of mine,” she answered in a quiet voice. “I really should get back inside. There is so much work to do.”

She got up from the bench, and the man’s gaze followed her as she did.

“And things were just getting interesting,” he said in feigned disappointment. “No matter. I’m certain I will see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you, Chastity.”

“And you, Saer,” she replied quickly before rushing inside.

“Chastity, a moment please, when you are done.”

She looked up at Father Marcus. She feared that she was in trouble or that her daily visits to the graveyard had been discovered. She turned her attention back to her patient and gave her a tight smile as she tried to push down her anxiety and finish bandaging her up. Once she was done, she wiped her bloodied hands in a piece of cloth and walked up to Father Marcus.

“Yes, Father?” she asked.

Father Marcus was quiet for a moment too long like he always was. He was looking at her intently, his brow furrowing and the wrinkles there creasing as he studied her, as if he was trying to remember what he was supposed to ask her. He was getting old, so she was beginning to get used to it.

“Oh yes,” he said. “You are going to a house in the Upper City later today.”

She was relieved that she was not in trouble, but she was however confused about his request. They never visited the homes of their patients, as they were always transported to the temple for care instead. She did have a vague idea of who she would be visiting, however. She had only met one patient who seemed wealthy enough to live in that part of the city.

“The Upper City, Father?” she asked. “What for exactly?”

“There is a man who needs alleviating,” Father Marcus answered. “I have the directions written down for you.”

“But Father we never—”

The old man looked away and waved his hand. A gesture she was more than familiar with throughout her time at the temple, meaning: We are done speaking. Do as I say. She sighed. It irked her to have to walk all the way to the Upper City for this patient. They never made exceptions. This was preferential treatment to someone who was rich, and that was not what the temple or Ilmater’s teachings stood for.

She took the scroll from his hand and read it. It contained directions and the necessary supplies she needed to bring. She gathered what she needed and left the temple. She rarely ever left the temple, and she hated walking around in the city. There was so much suffering everywhere: orphans, people who were selling themselves, people without homes… There was enough to fill the temple a hundred times.

The amount of suffering around her lessened the closer she got to the Upper City. Then it was the disgusting level of excess and greed that made her uncomfortable. The people around her were dressed in clothing so expensive that it could feed multiple families in the Lower City. She eventually made it to the grand mansion of her patient. A tiefling servant let her inside and herded her to his master’s chambers.

It was an odd feeling to walk through the halls of the mansion. There were small signs here and there that suggested a larger family with children lived there, and yet, it was completely quiet and empty. Surely, if there had been a larger family living there, Raphael would not have needed the help of the temple. Then again, it could be that he had lost his family or some other misfortune. Father Marcus had always taught her that it was best not to meddle and to keep your mouth shut, so she did.

When she entered Raphael’s chambers, he was seated in an armchair, reading a book. His cane was resting against the chair. He looked up at her when she entered and gave her a big smile before gesturing to the servant to leave them.

“Chastity,” he greeted. “How lovely that you could take the time out of your no doubt very busy schedule to visit me. I would get up to greet you properly, but I am sure you will forgive this rude lack of formality. My legs are aching terribly.”

She bowed her head in greeting. She felt awkward. She had not been in a room alone with a patient ever. There had always been other patients or clerics about somewhere. Not only that, but she was in a room alone with a man. It did something to her nerves. She moved closer.

“I have brought some potions that should help,” she said quietly and fiddled with the bag of supplies in her hands.

He looked her up and down, his gaze landing on her face. He was studying her.

“Is something the matter?” he asked in a gentle voice. “You’re shaking.”

“Forgive me—”

Raphael stopped her with a finger in the air, as if to remind her of their previous conversation and his opinion on her apologetic nature. She shut her mouth and gave him a tightlipped smile.

“This is new to me,” she explained. “We never venture outside the temple unless it is urgent, or we are bringing in a new patient.”

“Ah, I see,” he said and nodded. “No need to be nervous here. I won’t harm you. I can also assure you that this might be a wonderful opportunity for you. I tend to help those who help me, as I am sure your dear Father Marcus can confirm.”

Ah. Raphael was donating to the temple and that was the reason for this preferential treatment. She should have known. It put more pressure on her, because the gods know that the temple needed the gold.

She simply nodded and came closer. She looked at Raphael’s legs and then at his face.

“I’ll need to examine you first,” she said. “This would really be easier if you were laying down. Do you think we can move you to the bed?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” he answered.

She looked him over again and then gave him a little nod. She sat down on the carpet in front of him with her knees under her. She could have sworn she saw Raphael smirk as she lowered herself to the floor. She could feel his eyes on her, though she kept her gaze lowered.

“Please tell me if anything hurts,” she said and gently put her hands on one of his calves.

She pressed slightly to feel for knots or any deformities. There was nothing. His calf was surprisingly muscular for someone who could not move around much, she noticed. She felt his other leg and the result was the same.

“It’s further up,” he said.

She moved her hands to his knee and pressed down gently on it. Nothing.

“Further,” he purred.

She glanced up at him for a moment before moving her hands up to his lower thigh.

“Further…”

She moved her hands up further and he made a show of wincing.

“Yes, right there,” he groaned.

She pressed on his upper thigh, feeling her way around it. She massaged it slightly, making him groan again.

“I don’t feel any knots or anything,” she stated and moved to the other thigh to do the same thing.

As she did, she suddenly noticed the growing bulge in his pants. She looked the other way and continued her work. It was not unusual. This sometimes happened with male patients and often they could not control it, she had been taught. Though most usually had the decency to be embarrassed, but not him. After a few more moments she let go of his leg and got up off the floor. She grabbed her bag of supplies and brought them to his desk.

“I hope you do not mind that I borrow your space,” she said. “In my hurry, I did not have the time to prepare the potions beforehand.”

“Please,” he said and gestured to the desk. “Did I embarrass you, dear? That pretty red skin of yours seems a tad more red than usual, if my eyes do not fail me.”

There was clear amusement in his voice. She turned her back to him as she worked on the potions. She was flustered. So flustered that a reply did not come. He chuckled at her silence.

“Tell me, Chastity,” he said. “What is the purpose of swearing a vow like yours?”

She fumbled a bit with the ingredients in her hands as she was asked that question. By Ilmater’s hands, why was this man making her so uncomfortable? She steadied her hand and took a deep breath before replying.

“Because I want to be of service to Ilmater. Because my parents handed me to the temple when they both got sick and soon after died. I chose the virtue name Chastity and swore a vow soon after. I want to honor them by helping others, like the temple tried to help my parents and I, and the best way to do so is to stay focused on a greater purpose instead of the selfish desires that control us. That is why I took my vow.”

“My condolences,” he said from behind her. “I have always found the odd tradition of tiefling virtue names to seem so limiting. Surely, all of ones goals cannot be summed up so easily…but as long as you are happy, of course …”

She was relieved when he seemed to let it go. She kept cutting the ingredients to the potion in peace, enjoying the quiet despite still feeling tense. She could feel him staring into her back. He spoke again after a long while.

“I hope you will excuse my curiosity, but…have you ever been with anyone?” he asked casually.

“No,” she answered without hesitation. “And I never will.”

“Not even your dear Lucian?” he asked in that same casual tone.

A shiver ran down her back at the question. It was all too personal all of a sudden. She shook her head before looking at him.

“Please don’t speak of him to me,” she warned, though she tried to keep her tone light and cordial.

Raphael ignored her warning.

“His death weighs heavily on you, doesn’t it?” he asked with feigned concern. “Father Marcus told me that he almost did not get a proper burial, since he owes his soul to a devil. How very unfortunate.”

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at the mention of it.

“Don’t,” she said. “Please…”

“I am sorry, my dear,” he said in a soft voice. “I did not mean to upset you. I simply meant what a terrible situation that must be. You clearly loved him. You had taken care of him for so long and you don’t even get the peace of knowing that he is in a better place. Instead, you are left here all alone, with no one to hold you or comfort you as you bear the burden of so many on your shoulders. I feel for you, I truly do.”

She was shaking again, but not from being uncomfortable. She was instead trying to hold back her emotions. It was scary how well this stranger knew of her situation. A tear rolled down her cheek and she hastily wiped it away with the sleeve of her robe.

“Shhh-shh-shh, it’s fine, my dear. Cry,” he cooed gently and held out a hand to her. “Come here.”

She stared at his hand as if it would strike out and hit her. She was not supposed to let others touch her. On the other hand, Father Marcus would be furious if she lost them a sponsor that they definitely needed with the way things were. That is not to mention all the people they could help with this man’s money.

She swallowed hard and walked closer to him. He took her hand and pulled her to sit in his lap in one swift movement. She struggled, but his firm grip around her waist did not allow her to move away. One of his hands went up to cradle her head and push it gently to his shoulder, like a parent comforting a child might do.

“Relax,” he cooed and gently ran his fingers through her hair. “I won’t hurt you and no one has to know. It will be our little secret, hm?”

She could not control it. She started sobbing. She had not been held, let alone touched, by anyone since her parents died. She found herself clinging to this stranger that she barely knew. She would crawl into him if she could. The closeness was intoxicating. For a moment she felt safe and cared for.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he cooed. “Let me help carry the burden of all that suffering you have held for others for so many years.”

She nodded. She could barely breathe from crying so much. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and then whispered in her ear.

“You have been so awfully kind to me, Chastity,” he whispered. “Let me be kind to you in return. If you keep assisting me and being so wonderfully obedient, then I promise to rid you of all of your troubles. I will return your beloved Lucian to you so he will not have to suffer anymore.”

She felt a painful glimmer of hope in her heart. She sniffled into his doublet.

“You can’t bring him back…”

Raphael placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head.

“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” he said. “But I can put an end to his suffering. I happen to have some very powerful connections, you know. I can retrieve his soul from the Hells and give it to you.”

She shakes her head and dries her tears. It was too good to be true.

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

He smiled and pulled something from his pocket. A large iron coin. He handed it to her. She could feel immediately that it was not a normal coin. It felt familiar when she held it. It was as if she was sitting at Lucian’s bed, listening to his terrible jokes and laughing with him. The coin felt like him. There was both awe and sadness in her eyes as her breath hitched and tears started falling once again. Raphael gently took it from her hands and stuffed it back in his pocket.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked and caressed her side in a comforting manner.

“How did you—”

“Ah,” he interrupted with a smile. “I cannot tell you, but I am a man of my word. If you serve me, I’ll serve you.”

“Why?” she asked next. “Why me?”

Raphael ran his hand up and down her side as he studied her with a smile.

“Like I said, I find it difficult to see people suffering around me,” he purred and let go off her so she could move off his lap. “Off you go back to your temple, dear…before you have any unholy thoughts. If I see you again, I will take it as an agreement to this little arrangement.”

Her mind was buzzing with thoughts as she left the mansion and the Upper City.

[ywnzn]

boy next door ᡣ𐭩 a coincidence?

ᡣ𐭩 song eunseok x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 synopsis. in which yn keeps texting a random number life updates, that turns out to be the boy next door.

ᡣ𐭩 warnings. poor writing again im sorry, lower case intended, not proofread, eunseok’s plan being stupid but it worked so!, also eunseok basically losing his mind slowly

ᡣ𐭩 wc. 345

eunseok was on edge the entire day.

his plan was to find out if yn is the one who’s been texting him the whole time. he had a plan, but he wasn't sure how successful it would be.

yn had already gotten all the needed paint when it was time to go to beomgyu’s, she dropped the stuff in her living room and went to eunseok beomgyu’s place. though when she rang the bell, it was eunseok who opened the door for her.

“oh, hello.” eunseok smiled, stepping aside so she could get in. “hi, is beomgyu home?”

“yup, he’s in the kitchen,” he nodded, receiving a shy smile from her in return before she joined beomgyu in the kitchen.

it wasn’t long until the rest of the group arrived, beomgyu introduced them to eunseok who happily greeted them.

eunseok and seunghan surprisingly got along very well, which was silly to the rest, given that he wasn’t happy over his sister possibly having a crush on eunseok earlier.

while everyone was chatting, yn felt her phone vibrate. it was a text from her anonymous friend. she smiled at it and immediately opened the chat to answer.

what she didn’t know; was that eunseok’s eyes were on her. his phone nearly fell of his hands when he received a text shortly after the girl picked her phone up.

‘now this can’t be a coincidence.’ he thought, shaking his head before sending another text, his eyes immediately turning back to look at her. and to his surprise, yn started typing again. once she stopped, his phone vibrated again.

“oh my god.” he muttered, earning a look from anton and beomgyu. “you good?” beomgyu raised his brow.

“yeah, um, just realized i should leave now if i wanna be on time for dad.” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, before standing up and quickly bidding bye to everyone. however, his phone was on. showing his -miffy- lockscreen, and it caught yn’s attention; but by the time she processed it, he was already out the door.

₊ ⊹ prev | next ⊹ ₊

ᡣ𐭩 notes. i had like 10 different scenarios for this chapter but i hated all of them until i made this one that i kind of liked 🤧

ᡣ𐭩 taglist. [open!] @kyusqult @starwonb1n @teddywook @seunghancore @molensworld @ahnneyong @lecheugo @eternalgyu @rksbae @hakkkuu @wonychu @nakam00t @totheseok @ilovechanhee @strawbaemi @miyawakiblossoms @kgyam4 @sseastar-main @rosesfortaro @dodot04lover @daegale @b-riize @luvyujun @lipsbyive @bludzk1llzyuzu @keilovr @ksywoo

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: Episode 6 Preview (Mew VS Ray)

Jesus Christ, the pain train will keep on chugging full steam ahead next week when it comes to Ray/Sand. Ray gets in an altercation with Mew (over Top), who proceeds to punch Ray in the face out of frustration. My jaw dropped to the floor.

There's an earlier clip where Ray is speaking to Boston and it sounds like Ray either finds out about the affair, or that Boston/Top have history. I have a feeling it's likely the latter, because Ray would be far angrier at Boston if he found about the affair. (As well as the fact we get another blow-up later between Boston and the entire group when this is revealed). Besides, knowing they had history is enough ammunition for Ray to believe that Top is untrustworthy and not deserving of Mew.

So Ray decides to approach Mew about it, probably in an attempt to warn him to distance himself from Top. However at this point, Mew's pretty loved up. Considering Ray's recent indiscretion and the fact he causes a scene (making this seem like drunken, rowdy behaviour), Mew ultimately defends and sides with Top, and sends Ray flying in the process. Ray hits the stage hard. Mew was not going easy in the slightest which left me speechless.

(*Has Mew become evil!Mew now that he doesn't wear glasses??)

Sand is also at the scene during this confrontation, and helps Ray up when he gets hit. Immediately after this is where Ray and Sand then also have their argument. This string of events makes a LOT more sense now, considering Ray's reaction.

Ray must be incredibly heartbroken and utterly devastated. He probably never thought that Mew - the person who saved his life - would one day be capable of hurting him instead (and all in a bid to defend another man - a giant, red flag of a man).

Then Sand decides to top that off with "Can you stop thinking about something else for a second? Focus on me for once, will you?" perhaps not fully realising that this is THE ABSOLUTE WORST time to ask that question. I love you Sand, but this is really not the time to make this about you. I know you're still upset from this week's episode, but please give your boyfriend a moment's respite.

This results in Ray exploding in his face, shoving Sand to the ground and storming off.

Ray's in an exceptionally heightened and raw state of mind in this scene. What he says to Sand is going to come out incredibly harshly, and he's not going to be thinking straight to consider Sand's feelings.

However, once he cools down, he's going to seriously regret it. Especially in immediate succession to hurting Sand just recently.

The aftermath is what I'm really concerned about. From Sand's perspective, everything that transpires 100% confirms Boston's bombshell, without a question of a doubt, that Ray does love Mew.

Both Ray and Sand will be in a very poor mental state after next week's episode, and I hope to god they're going to be okay.

Also - Ray should NOT be driving himself home when he's like this.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hi! I realize I should've requested this earlier, but honestly I'm not in any rush; but I happen to share a birthday with Ran (still processing that I can't believe I actually do) and would like one where we celebrate our birthday together. Can be SFW or NSFW, doesn't really matter honestly

Here you go! Happy belated birthday!

Twinning: Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 986

tw: NSFW

masterlist

"Y/n, he's been staring at you all night."

"You should go over there and tell him to buy you a drink since it's your birthday!" You try to ignore your friends' voices over the music, but when you glance back at the bar, you see the short-haired man looking your way and raising a glass at you. He tosses it back, but you try to keep your smile hidden.

"Just go over there already," your best friend urges you, pushing you out of the booth and toward the bar. You make your way over there, looking as casual as possible.

The short-haired man turns to you, his purple eyes roaming over your physique before he murmurs, "Finally."

"You know," you begin, leaning on the bar beside him. "It's my birthday."

"Oh?"

"You should buy me a drink." The man places his cup down on the bar and smiles widely, showing a mouth full of perfect teeth.

"I should buy you more than a drink, then. So, we can celebrate together."

"Oh, really?" You smirk and bite your lower lip. "What're you thinking?"

"A bottle... or two." He chuckles and leans over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "What's your name?"

"Y/n," you murmur. "And yours?"

"Ran Haitani. But most people just call me Ran." And so the night begins with a champagne bottle and light conversation, just you and the man who kept buying you drinks. Ran Haitani.

You're not sure when you knew you were drunk, but by the time you stumble out of the club on Ran's arm, you know the night is coming to its inevitable close.

"We should hang out more often," you giggle, looking at the suave man who seems to still be sober. He raises his brows at you, then mutters,

"You want to go home so soon?" For a moment, you can hear the promise of something more in his voice. But you dismiss it as machinations of your addled mind.

"I should get back home," you reply sheepishly. "Friends might be worried and all that."

"Oh." Ran nods, shrugging his shoulders. "Did you drive here, or...?"

"Uber."

"Then let me call you an Uber." Before you can protest, he's on his phone, hailing one almost immediately.

"You really don't have to..." You urge him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ran shakes his head, brushing his hair away from his face while clearing his throat.

"It would be the best way to treat such a wonderful companion on her birthday. I would like for you to get home safe so we can have another thrilling evening." You blush at his compliment, trying not to think anything too inappropriate about the man who was just being kind to you on your birthday.

When the Uber arrives (which doesn't take long), Ran opens the door for you, and you slide into the vehicle. You're about to say goodbye and bid him goodnight, but something takes over you, and you grab his hand.

"Maybe a nightcap would be okay?" Ran's face morphs into a lazy grin, and he gets into the car with you, accepting your offer without a word. The ride isn't too extensive, but you consider fooling around with Ran a little to get things going in the right direction. It would be scandalous in front of a person you don't know, though, so you wait impatiently.

But when you get to your front door, you can't seem to put the key in the door fast enough. You shake a little, giggling as Ran kisses down your neck after the Uber driver drives off. When his hand reaches down to steady yours, though, you feel the rush of the moment overwhelm you.

"You're going to make me melt," you breathe just as the door to your condo opens.

"Hopefully not before I get you out of these clothes." You both hurry inside, exchanging feverish kisses as the door shuts. Expensive wine and whiskey mingle on your tongues as you kiss, and every inhale of Ran is like breathing in the aroma of confidence. You nip at his lower lip, and he groans, pressing a hand against the wall to steady himself.

"Where's your bedroom?"

"Not far," you whisper, leading him there while he tosses his jacket off and slings it over the back of the couch. The bedroom is clean - thank God - and Ran gently pushes your stomach down onto the bed before rolling your mini skirt down your legs.

"Birthday sex is the best sex," he mutters, helping you step out of the item before pushing your underwear to the side. You whimper as his fingers run up and down your slit, mingling with the slick already there. "And you're so wet already."

"Fuck me," you chant, angling your hips higher. "Do it, Ran."

"Anything for the birthday girl," he replies, and you look back just as he parts your asscheeks. His cock is thick and long, just enough for you to wonder if your back would be giving out within the first three minutes. "And anything for me since I'm the birthday boy, too."

"It's your birthday?" you gasp, but it turns into a moan as Ran rocks his hips back and forth leisurely. "Why didn't you say something?"

Ran snorts, running his hands through your hair. "Didn't want to make the evening all about me."

"But--" Ran speeds up his strokes, gripping your ass in both hands.

"Shh..." You whine a little, parting your legs even more. "I'll get mine. You'll get yours, too, princess. We'll just exchange gifts right here, okay?" You can't even reply, but Ran doesn't mind. His lisp ghost over your neck, and he sucks harshly on your beautiful skin. "One hickey for each year," Ran murmurs in your ear. "Then I'll give you as many orgasms as you can take for good measure."

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-eight

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: Okay, I lied. Here's a bit more fluff. Tags for this will be open, just shoot me a message or comment if you're interested!

Tags: @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @clqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85

Arranged Masterlist

The car ride back home was quiet, only filled with the breaths of Bucky and I. He had opted out of a driver tonight, saying that he wanted to drive his bride home. Despite our small fight earlier, I couldn’t help but smile. The signing of our marriage went off without a hitch, or so I thought. 

Bucky quickly signed the paper with a smile before sliding it over to me. With my own pen clutched in my hand, the tip was ready to glide across the paper but I pulled my hand back slightly, only for half a second, before I signed my own name. Now becoming Mrs. Y/N Barnes. 

I didn’t think he noticed but with the sigh that came from Bucky, I knew he had noticed my small hesitation. But could he blame me? With our fight earlier, I couldn’t help but question if this was the best idea. I didn’t care if there was an arrangement with him and my parents. 

But it was the fear of disappointing them that made the final choice for me, knowing what they had to go through in order to make this happen. 

Also, Bucky was the other deciding factor. I knew that there were going to be some disagreements between us so I could back out after the first one. He had gone out of his way to make sure I felt comfortable with everything, and I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some feelings growing for him. 

“Did you tell your parents?” Bucky’s deep voice brought my attention back to the inside of the car. 

I nodded. “My mom still is upset we didn’t do a big spectacle, but I think that's only because she wanted to show off to her friends.”

His flesh hand lay gently on my knee but still kept his eyes on the road. “Maybe we can have them over for dinner sometime next week?”

I nodded at his suggestion, but Bucky could still tell something was weighing on my mind so with a quick squeeze of my knee, he urged me to talk.

“I know I said that I didn’t want to sleep in the same room but it is technically our wedding night so what about a movie night in bed?” 

The corner of Bucky’s lips rose. “I would really like that.” 

He brought my hand to his lips and left soft pepper-like across the back of it. I felt myself melt at his intense gaze. 

We had returned back home rather quickly and as I began walking up the steps to the front door, I yelped out when Bucky had lifted me into his embrace and carried me over the threshold bridal style. 

“Bucky put me down!” I playfully smacked his chest. 

“What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t carry you inside?” Bucky defended. 

Barb had emerged from the kitchen when my giggles filled the large house and she looked at us amused. 

“Well, if it isn’t the newlyweds,” she was drying her hands on a towel, “I was just about to start cooking dinner. Any requests?” 

Reluctantly, Bucky set me to my feet but quickly intertwined our fingers; my flesh with his vibranium. I gave it a squeeze, unsure if he could actually feel my touch. There were so many questions I had about his arm and was dying to know the answers. 

“Don’t worry about dinner tonight, Barb. We’re going to order in. Why don’t you actually take the rest of the night off?” Bucky ordered. 

She eagerly agreed with a fast nod, bidding us a goodnight and congratulations before she disappeared back into the kitchen. 

“So,” I began while swinging our hands together. 

“Your room. Half hour? I need to take care of some last-minute calls that I missed.” 

I didn’t bother asking what phone calls he had to make, knowing that he wouldn’t divulge anything about it. 

Gaining some courage, I stood on the tips of my toes and placed a gentle kiss on Bucky’s cheek letting it linger for a few seconds. As I pulled away, Bucky blinked a few times, trying to regain his composure after being caught off guard. 

“See you soon.” 

I scurried up the stairs, excited to spend some more alone time with him. 

“Are you kidding me? That’s how the movie ended?!” I questioned, shocked. 

Bucky chuckled and gave a half shrug. “It’s a very open-ended ending. Let's decide how you think it should end.” 

We had been silently watching a movie of his choice and I stayed on one side of the bed while he stayed on the other, keeping our hands in our respective laps in the beginning of the movie. As it ended, our hands were intertwined at the fingers, his vibranium thumb rubbing mine. 

“Want to watch another?” I asked. 

Bucky took a quick glance at the watch on his wrist and nodded. “If it’s not too late for you?” 

It was only a quarter after nine and I wasn’t quite ready to have him leave yet. 

“My turn to choose.” 

Bucky chuckled and kept his gaze on me as I searched through the endless options of movies on the television. There was so much intensity behind them that I could feel it graze over every inch of my body. I chewed on the inside of my lip, feeling myself burning up the longer he gazed at me and when I felt his breath on the side of my neck, I turned to look at him. 

Our faces were millimeters apart and I swallowed a breath when he rolled his tongue over his bottom lip, so slow. 

“Y/N?” 

I hummed at the richness of his voice. My heart jumped into my throat and my palms began to sweat. There was a shock that swirled around in my belly, filling with sudden want to feel Bucky’s lips; everywhere. 

He leans in closer, so slow. I internally groaned at how slow he had decided to close the distance. We both breathed and didn’t breathe, but our hearts were beating together in sync, so loud. Bucky is close now, I could feel his lips ghost over mine while the rest of my body is numb, frozen. I can’t feel anything, my fingers, or the cold breeze coming from the open window. All I feel is him, all over me, as Bucky cups my cheek with his vibranium palm, thumb grazing over my bottom lip. 

I moaned at the feeling which caused Bucky’s eyes to flutter shut. 

“Y/N..” 

I let out a husky breath, hearing him say my name once again, the deepness of it causing my core to twitch with desire. In a silent queue, I kissed his thumb, hoping he understood what I couldn’t say.

Our lips were finally tasting each other. The softness of his made me melt into his embrace like butter.

Bucky pulled away suddenly and leaned away from me. “I’m sorry, I should have asked-.” 

His apology was seized as I grasped his face, crashing our lips to each other again. It was a much more heated kiss than before. That one was tender and slow while this one was aggressive and sloppy, where your teeth are smacking together, and tongues are exploring every crevice of each other's mouths. We needed to feel each other, in every way. I nibbled on his bottom lip and Bucky groaned, hands clawing at my hips. My own hands slid up his chest and around his neck, fingers played with the ends of his hair and Bucky lifted me into his lap with ease. 

His vibranium arm wrapped around my back and scooted us closer up against the headboard and his large hands sprawled over my back and I leaned into him, pressing my chest against him. 

Bucky responded with a low growl and started leaving a mark in the crook of my neck. His name came off my lips in a breathy moan and I ran a hand through his hair, our hips began to move at a steady pace. 

There was a tension building low in my belly, warming the coil in my core, and I needed to let it go. 

An urgent knock pounded on the wood of my door causing me to jump slightly in Bucky’s embrace. He didn’t bother to let me go, only released my neck from his teeth with an annoyed sigh. 

“Yes?” He yelled. 

“Buck, it’s me.” 

Steve. 

A vibranium finger brushed the hair out of my face before another kiss was placed on my lips. I happily returned it. 

“This better be important, Steve,” Bucky called to the man on the other side of the door. 

“Wilson is requesting us at the lab. There was another issue with Dr. Banner.” 

Bucky froze under my touch so I placed a finger under his chin and lifted his gaze to me. 

“Everything alright?” 

I expected him to toss me off of him, muttering something about how it wasn’t my business however he kissed my forehead before softly setting me back onto my bed. 

“There’s this new tech my team has been working on and there seems to be another problem at the lab. I’ll be back late so don’t wait up, alright?” 

I nodded. “Be safe.” 

Bucky smiled. “Always, doll. Sweet dreams.” 

With flushed cheeks, body still feeling warm and reeling from our kiss, I couldn't help but worry about this last-minute emergency that was taking him from me.

[macravishedbymactavish]

hi, can you please do pros and cons of dating captain price?

This was incredibly fun to write, thanks anon!! ❤️

| Blog HQ | MW2 Masterlist | Merrick's Version | Hesh & Logans Version |

3 pros and 3 cons of dating John Price

Pros

He's a planner, especially when it comes to you and your wellbeing

You held back a snort, watching as your boyfriend brought threw his bag into the backseat before getting in himself.

Softly sighing under your gaze he mindlessly mumbled "just say it, already" as he started driving.

"You remembered your purse, I see" you chuckled, finding it forever amusing that he always had his backpack when the two of you would go out.

Your amusement was cut short later that day when the weather took a turn and the wind picked up. Crossing your arms over your chest, grumbling about how John always seemed to be warm no matter the situation; you missed him sliding the bag off his one shoulder.

"Here" he simply stated, holding out a sweater for you to put on. "Low chance of showers today, but thought I'd bring sweaters just in case"

He is the king of home DIY. You want anything upgraded, fixed or built? He's got this.

"Hey, so I was thinking" you started one afternoon, leaning against the door of your shared bathroom. Explaining to your boyfriend the shelf idea you had seen on your phone a few hours earlier.

"Let me finish showering and we can go to the shop to buy supplies"

He always offers you a drink or snack whenever he gets up to grab one for himself. Sometimes brings you one back anyway (even if you said no)

"I'm going to grab something to drink, would you want anything?" He pointed toward the kitchen as he stood from the couch.

Cons

Totally does the "I was not asleep" thing when he was 100% asleep. Will fight to the end of his life that he was not sleeping

"Wake up, John" you whispered, nudging his arm. You came home to find your boyfriend laying on the couch asleep, controller on the floor.

Giving you a small groan, before shifting closer into the cushions he mumbled: " 'm awake"

Rolling your eyes, you opted against arguing that he was sound asleep not even a second ago. Shoving his legs back, you sat on the couch with him. Hand running over his bicep as he slowly woke up, stretching his shoulders as he explained that he was wide awake that entire time.

Gossips like a little old lady. Usually in public when he runs into someone he knows.

You stood awkwardly off to the side, shifting your weight between the heels and balls of your feet. John had been chatting with an old colleague of his in a random isle of the shop for at least 15 minutes.

While they were deep in conversation, you had excused yourself to not only finish the grocery shopping as planned, but also pay for and load said groceries into the vehicle. Only to come back to the isle to find they hadn't moved more than an inch.

"I should let the two of you get back to your shopping. We should meet up for a pint sometime though" his friend smiled, patting his shoulder before bidding you a polite goodbye.

"Sorry love, now what do we need to buy from here?" John smiled at you, eyebrow raising when you gave him an amused expression in return. Grabbing his hand, leading him out of the store as he slowly realized just how long he had been visiting for.

Has unconsciously used his work voice during some of your more heated arguments

Not that he ever means to, as with most people work stays at work. Home stays at home. We don't blur the lines.

Except the rare nights where emotions are high, words are escaping both your lips before your brains can process them.

"Are. We. Clear?" He enunciated, voice firm as he stared down at you. Irises hidden behind his pupils as his jaw locked.

Equally as angry, you simply spat: "Yes, Captain" before turning on your heel to go cool off.

There were many apologies shared the next morning when you both calmed down.

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