#i also cut off an inch of my hair this morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazbinlove · 2 months ago

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Platonic Yandere Batfam x demigod reader x Yandere Percy Jackson

Chapter One

Walking around the manor wasn’t always good. It was quiet…too quiet like everything stilled. It always felt like I didn’t belong, like I shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Walking down the hall of the quiet manor I come across a bedroom. The silver worn out plaque showed $@&€ name in worn out lettering. ‘Ah who is $@&€ again? Probably not important’ I thought to myself before continuing down the hallway of old oak. Stepping down the dark oak stairs carefully I walked into the kitchen only to see a old man there. ‘Who is this again? Meh doesn’t matter. Why am I back in this place again? Where is this place at anyways and why is it important to me?’ I thought to myself again with a small shrug.

“Good evening master @&$@. How is everything?” A calming voice asked snapping me out of my train of thoughts before looking at the man only giving him a nod before walking back upstairs to my room. Walking into the small room too small for a growing person I flopped down onto my old bed with a huff closing my eyes as the world around me went dark. Only to be startled awake by banging.

Waking up to loud banging wasn’t on my morning to-do list but oh here we are no? Groaning I get up as slide out of bed before quickly tossing in some sweatpants and walking towards the door of my cabin while trying to tame the birds nest of my hair.

“Alright alright I’m coming! Geez.” I yelled out annoyed before opening the door. “Ah good morning Hanna what seems to be the trouble?” I asked the blond girl in front if me. Hanna is one of Apollo’s kids and was always cheerful. She was small a few inches shorter than I and had brown eyes and a little tan but she is well strong enough to handle her own. Her brown eyes always seemed to look bright no matter the hardships sent her way…oh how I envy that but I guess that’s why she’s Apollo’s kid huh?

“Ah you won’t believe it! Hunter asked me out today!” Hanna’s squealed out causing me to reel my head back a bit before rubbing my ringing ears. Although she’s Apollo’s kid her voice is high pitched but cheerful. Kinda like Pinky pie from my little pony.

“Oh hun that’s great! It seems like Cupid and Aphrodite were listen to you’re prayers no?” I said while leaning against the doorframe crossing my arms with a small smile. Hunter is one of Ares kids but thankfully is pretty chill most of the time.

“Oh indeed! He’s just so handsome with his blond hair and green eyes. And his large hands that can-“ Hanna said only to just as quickly be cut off by a somewhat flustered demigod.

“Alright alright let’s not go down that kind of path now hun. It’s good that you love him but sometimes let’s not over share alright? And I’ll admit he’s a handsome fella.” I said cutting her off quickly scratching my flustered cheeks with a small laugh. I loved Hanna I really do but sometimes she can be a bit…what’s the word. An over-sharer? Lust driven? Sometimes I forget she’s Apollo’s kid and not Aphrodite’s. She definitely has the looks to be an Aphrodite kid.

“Aw come on!! It’s not that bad but alright. I came to also tell y’a that breakfast is almost done.” Hanna said with a small pout before smiling.

“Alright thank you hun. I’ll be right out.” I said with a small nod of gratitude what hung as the hyper girl bounced off towards the other campers. ‘I swear this girl never runs out of energy.’ I thought to myself with a small amused chuckle and closed my cabin door.

Yawning I walked back into my bedroom and looked around. The walls were painted in deep shades of indigo, and charcoal creating a sense of enveloping darkness. Looking over at the large window above my bed the dark purple curtains pushed to the side as the sun was barely up.

‘Hm must be 5 or 6 in the morning.’ I thought to myself before looking around again. The intricate metalwork in the shape of crescent moons, delicate chandeliers resembling constellations, or tapestries depicting nocturnal creatures like owls, bats, or wolves.

‘I’ll have to thank Leo for making those for me. Maybe get him some more metal to work with?’ I thought with a small nod before fixing my bed. Grabbing the luxurious, velvety bedding with midnight tones I pulled the sheets and blankets over the bed. Grabbing the Plush throw pillows I put them back in place before smoothing out the blanket. With a nod I bent down to fix the soft rug with jewel-toned hues. Nodding in contempt I looked over at the shelves, ancient tomes on astronomy, mythology, and the occult, along with small trinkets and curiosities collected from the child's nighttime wanderings. Looking over at the desk or work table taking note of the old grimoire sitting there. Walking over I quickly closed the eons old book. With a nod of approval I walked off towards the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Walking into the softly lit bathroom I leaned against the deep black stone sink that could possibly pass off as obsidian. Looking into the large mirror ornate mirror framed in silver, with designs of the moon phases or intricate constellations. Standing taking in my disheveled appearance before trying to smooth out my hair while staring at the gray streak in my hair. Running my hands across the scar on my cheek with distain.

‘God I’ve always hated this scar. It’s so…ugly and weird looking…guess that’s what happens when you fight off harpies.’ I thought to myself before sighing and grabbing a brush to brush out my hair.(if you’re a man or have short hair ignore this!) After that I slip off my black silk pajama shirt before looking away from the mirror not wanting to look at the scars of past battles. With quick succession I walked over to the black stone bathtub that looked similar to the sink before turning on the water. Patting the hot water fog up the mirror and bathroom while I quickly take off the rest of my garments and tossing them into the dirty hamper for later.

Getting out of the shower I quickly grab a towel to cover myself before opening the bathroom door letting the steam out of the confined space of the bathroom. Walking back into my room I walk over to the large oak closet before opening the doors. Looking at the array of clothing I grab one of the orange camp shirts and setting it on the bed before grabbing a pair of black jeans with holes.

‘I should probably get a new pair of jeans soon. Too many holes could be dangerous and could get caught on something. I wonder is Chiron would let me stop by the store if I have a quest today?’ I though with a nod before setting the jeans on my bed with the shirt. Walking towards the dresser I grab the necessary garments before also placing them on the bed.

‘I wonder what’s for breakfast? Pancakes? Waffles? French toast? Sausage? Hash browns? Waffles with sausages and eggs sounds delightful.’ I thought to myself while slipping my jeans and shirt on. Walking back into the bathroom I quickly look in the mirror and smoothed out my shirt a bit before nodding in acceptance.

‘Looks nice. This shall do for the day ahead.’ I thought again before turning on the sink Fossett and grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste.

‘I wonder what Chiron will have us do today? Probably send some of us on quests and what not. I know for a fact that some Ares kids are gonna cause some trouble. Wonder what if I have a quest.’ I though while brushing my teeth and rinsing the toothbrush and spat out some extra toothpaste before rinsing my mouth.

Walking out of the bathroom I quickly slip on some socks before sipping on my old beat up convers. Getting up off the bed I grab my phone and headphones before heading out of my cabin. Rubbing my eyes from the sleep I walk off down the pathway before finally coming across cabin three Poseidon’s cabin.

“Percy you up? It’s almost time for breakfast!” I said loudly not wanting to startle the boy while knocking on his cabin door. Receiving no answer I huff before gently opening the door and walking into the cabin. It smelled like the fresh sea and musk pretty fitting for the son of the sea god. Looking around before walking towards the bunk room only to find said demigod still sleeping in bed.

“Percy dude it’s time to get up now. It’s almost breakfast.” *I said turning on his lamp and gently hedging the boys shoulder, but only receiving a grain in protest.

“Come on now Percy. Just think of the adventures that are lined up for you.” I said while leaning over him looking into his drowsy sea green eyes.

“Good morning sunshine. The day is early now get up before I get Annabeth.” I said a little amused before walking off as he sat up and rubbed his face. Percy is a handsome demigod. He is every girls first crush. Given that having messy, jet-black naturally tousled, wavy thick hair of his. His body is what a lot of girls like about him. His athletic build, though not overly muscular. He’s lean and toned. He has the kind of physique that comes from constant activity rather than hours in a gym. Think of someone who runs, swims, and spars regularly. Some girls like him because of his sun-kissed, slightly tanned skin, with a few freckles or marks from scrapes or cuts. But overall don’t let his appearance fool you Percy is a force to be reckoned with. He’s fought many battles and won. Fought many monsters and won. Overall Percy is deserving of the total of strongest demigod.

“What time is it?” Percy asked his voice deep and groggy from waking up as he swung his legs off the side of his bed.

“Currently about 5:40 in the morning. Breakfast is at 6:20 so come up you go!” I said while grabbing a camp shirt and jeans from his closet and folding them neatly before placing them on his dresser.

“Ugh it’s too early! I wanna sleep more!” Percy whined behind me causing me to roll my eyes a little.

“Sorry bud but you’ve gotta get up now. Chiron would get upset if you’re not up by then.” I said and walked past him making sure to ruffle his hair hoping to wake up up more as he leaned into the touch.

“I don’t wanna but I’ll get up. Only if you stay and wait for me?” Percy said looking up at me with puppy eyes wanting me to stay.

“Alright I’ll stay but hurry up.” I said with a sigh as he got up and quickly hugged me before running off towards his shower. ‘I swear he’s gonna be the death of me.’ I thought to myself before sitting down on his bed and taking out my phone.

A few minutes have past since Percy got into the shower leaving me sitting there on his bed playing on my phone. I was swinging my legs a little waiting for Percy to get out of the shower. After a few more minutes I could hear the shower turn off and the door open. Keeping my back to the door waiting for Percy to get dressed.

“You can turn around now {Name}” Percy said from behind me as I turned around to face him.

“How was you’re showed bud?” I asked and got up from his bed to dry his hair.

“It was good. How was you’re shower? You’re hair is still wet.” He asked reaching up gently grabbing the ends of my hair.(<ignore this if you have short hair!)

“It was the same but overall alright. Now sir and let me dry you’re hair.” I said as I sat back down on the edge of his bed and he sat on the floor in between my legs. Gently placing the towel on his head. I gently massaged his head drying his hair as he leaned back against me a little.

“Relaxed?” I asked a little amused as he just hums. Chuckling I continue drying his hair before tapping his shoulder for him to get up. As he got up I walked into his bathroom and hung the towel up to dry before leaving his bathroom. Looking over at Percy as he puts his shoes on I quickly grab my phone before waiting by the door for him so we could make our way towards breakfast.

Walking out towards breakfast wasn’t as quiet as I hoped. Percy here as much as I love him and he’s my best friend he shouldn’t be this hyper in the morning. Shh don’t tell but I’m barely paying attention to what he’s saying. Listening to him talking I just nod along here and there. After a few more minutes of walking finally Percy and I came across the dinning area of camp. Listening to all the other campers talking was always loud but welcoming. It felt like home honestly I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Percy, Annabeth and the others are my friends…there my family.

Life at Camp half-blood was both good and bad. We all have trauma and have seen some things. Things normal humans wouldn’t understand. Things humans would fear. We demigods fight said monsters and mythological beasts. All to protect humans from what they wouldn’t understand. Overall coming to camp was the best decision I’ve ever done. I thank Apollo and Artemis for finding me and bringing me here all those years ago, but I wonder why they helped me all those years ago.

“{Name!}”

A sudden shout of my name interrupted my thoughts. Lookin go over I notice Percy looking worried holding onto my shoulder.

“Sorry I’m alright just lost in thoughts is all.” I said gently patting his hand only for him to squeeze my shoulder a little bit. It made me feel a little uncomfortable with how tight it was.

“Are you sure? I’m always here if you need me.” Percy said his eyes darkened a little bit his hold on my shoulder still uncomfortable.

“Yeah I’m alright. Let’s just get some food.” I said and quickly walking off to get some breakfast. Unaware of the dark look that flashed across his face.

Getting in line for food you’re waiting listening to Hanna blabber on about Hunter as Percy walks up being you and Hanna. Jumping slightly as he grabs you’re hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. Feeling a little uncomfortable with his tight grip you try to move you’re hand away only for Percy’s grip to get tighter. Kinda like a constricting snake with it’s prey. Getting slightly nervous due to his strong grip you quickly pinch his side as let go of his hand before wiping you’re hand off. Going back to listening to Hanna talk you keep you’re hands in front of you completely missing the dark look that flashes in Percy’s eyes.

After grabbing a plate of waffles and sausage you, Hanna, and Percy walk over to the table housing Annabeth and Piper and a few others before sitting down. Hanna sitting down next to Hunter while you sit across from them. Setting you’re plate down and sitting on the bench Percy immediately sits down next to you before he engaged in a conversation with Annabeth and Piper.

After finishing you’re food you listen to the loud onslaught of talking going on around you. Picking up on a few things here and there as conversations take place. Uninterested you slowly allow yourself to block out the noise and go back into you’re thought’s, but before you could the breakfast gets interrupted by Chiron dismissing everyone to do there own thing around camp.

“{Name!} and Percy!”

A sudden shout of yours and Percy’s name startled both of you. You, Percy and the table look over at Chiron as he waved you and Percy over to him. With a sigh you get up to walk over only for Percy to excitedly grab you’re hand and drag you over to Chiron.

Chiron was a centaur or well an immortal centaur, he’s the son of Kronos and the Oceanid Philyra, and also a famed trainer of heroes. Chiron is also the activities director at Camp Half-Blood. He’s like a father not only to you but to Annabeth as well. He raised you both into the strong warriors you are today. Chiron’s eyes and hair are brown like the Grand Canyon. You feel as thought Chiron is not a true centaur, as centaurs are quite notorious for being overly indulgent drinkers and carousers, giving into violence when intoxicated, wild, lusty, and overall generally uncultured delinquents. Chiron, by a large contrast, was very intelligent, civilized, and kind. You’re also pretty positive that true centaurs are born of sun and cloud and are not immortal. You’re also like…90% sure Chiron got his immortality from the gods.

“Yes Chiron? Good morning!” Percy said still as hyper as ever. As he swings you’re linked hands.

“Yes good morning Percy and good morning {Name}. I actually have a quest for the two of you.” Chiron said as Percy nods excitedly at the prospect of going on a quest. You really didn’t mind going on quests but you personally liked doing quests alone.

“Alright so here’s the quest.”

End~

@erikasurfer @maicenitas @plsfckmedxddy

If you wanna be tagged lmk and I’ll tag y’all! Also if I made any mistakes lmk and I’ll fix them!!

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yourheart-inmyhands · 1 year ago

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I got one for you. Reader with long hair. Yan zhongli, Childe and Pantalone adore brushing it out or washing it for you, putting pretty (but not pointy) decorations in it. but you HATE them touching it. So one day, maybe when they slip up and leave smth sharp in your abode you grab it and lop off as much as you can before they come back (or stop you if they’re in the room when you do it). What happens afterwards?

Cannot wait to see what you cook with this, I adore your takes.

ah tysm! sorry it took so long to get to this, i took a little bit of a different twist from my normal writing style and did some headcanons and a short blurb! hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including implied being held against will, mentions of reader almost being hit, zhongli being a softie, delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Pantalone would be furious, as someone with hair of a decent length himself, he knows the time and dedication it takes to grow it out so long.

He also knows how much maintenance it took, which is why he never fussed about helping you with it, often insisting to do it for you.

He saw it as a bonding moment between the two of you, something to help him wake up in the morning as he did your hair and something to unwind to at night as he’d undo the intricate styles he had done it up in that morning.

You cutting off your hair with a letter opener that he’d left in the room by mistake hurts him, upsets him to the point he almost strikes you. To him it’s as if you had cut him, making a statement that you’d rather give up on something you’d dedicated years to, than to allow him the comfort and satisfaction.

Pantalone can’t even bear to look at you for the next few days, sleeping in another room or in his office.

“How could you do something so despicable? Do you even care how this made me feel?” The way Pantalone speaks almost makes it seem like you’d given him an impromptu haircut. With the gorgeous hair that used to reach down the length of your back now sitting in choppy piles on the floor, it almost felt like you had in a way. Your hair was uneven, lopped off sporadically in case he tried to interrupt. You’d just taken off the last few locks when he had noticed the absence of his letter-opener, intending to merely pop into your shared bedroom to grab it. Instead he was met with the grueling sight of you, kneeling before the full length mirror, hand clutching the letter opened as your opposite hand released a fist full of hair, letting it float down to the piles that had formed below.

Yandere!Zhongli would be conflicted. Part of him is upset that you’d make such a hasty decision, not even weighing the outcomes and taking away something from not just yourself but from the both of you.

The other side of him is hurt that you didn’t come to him first. That you didn’t feel comfortable expressing your discomfort with his actions and had taken it to the extreme instead. His heart aches at both thoughts.

You’d managed to pry a sharp piece of stone off the walls of the cave, using it to hastily take off chunks, only for Zhongli to catch you mid way through. His contempt at the situation settles with a sigh as me approaches you, gently prying the rock from your hands before disappearing, leaving you to sit on the floor, half of your hair lopped off just scattered around you.

He returns a short bit later though, bringing with him a large mirror and a sharp pair of scissors. Setting the mirror in front of you, he gently begins correcting your hazardous hack job, carefully trimming off all the missed areas to even it all out.

While his work wasn’t great, it certainly looked a little better than how it had started. Your hair now sitting a few inches above your shoulder, a simple all around cut that was, mostly, even.

Zhongli didn’t say a word as he approached, looking down at you with a blank expression, his calm eyes staring deeply into your wide ones as he gently pried the rock from your hands, leaving you to wallow in a pile of your own hair as he disappears. Upon his return, he places a large, ornate mirror in front of you. It was typically kept in the living room as a decorative piece but he required it’s services here. Pulling from his pocket a pair of sharp scissors, he gently angles your head to be straight before reaching for the areas you hadn’t gotten to yet. Quickly shedding the length of those pieces he gets to work on straightening the rest out, doing an ok job at making it all match up and look decent. “If you wanted me to leave your hair alone you could’ve always asked darling, you know I only want to make you happy in this life of ours.”

Yandere!Childe manages to catch you before the act. You had thought you were sneaky, tiptoeing out of bed early in the morning over to his work clothes that had been hastily shed after his return last night.

You knew he kept a couple different blades on him, having shown you them before. Yet as you checked every pocket, every hidden loop, all the little places he’d shown you that he could be keeping them, you continued to turn up with nothing.

Over and over you checked, an almost pleading in the way your hands silently searched through the crumpled clothing, desperate to find anything even remotely sharp at this point.

You could feel the frustration as well as tears welling up in your eyes, why couldn’t anything ever go your way? First you get stuck with that crazed lunatic, and now that he’s practically taken over your hair you can’t even take some control and rid yourself of it.

As you search, you failed to hear the bed creak, or the soft patter of footsteps behind you. The only two things that tell you he’s awake are his voice whispering in his ear and his hand flaunting the exact thing you’d been looking for.

“I thought you might go looking for this, so I hid it under the pillow. A little cliche but I thought you’d be too stupid to look there, guess I was right~” Childe’s voice comes out in a sing-song tone, almost as if he was bragging about outsmarting you. He could tell from the moment he took an interest in your hair that it made you uncomfortable, just another button of yours to push as he slowly molded you into the perfect spouse for himself. His nimble fingers twirled the simple knife around, flaunting it to you. You could try to grab it, lunge for it even, but it was no use. You wouldn’t be able to get even a strand shortened before Childe would have it back in his possession, especially when the distance between the two of you was so short. Short enough that you could feel his chest pressing against your back, his breath on your neck, and his soft strands of hair brushing against the back of your head.

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lustylita · 6 months ago

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Mornings,

18+ MDNI

Alastor was never a good morning person - hardly sleeping at all. He found mornings quite bothersome .

You might be able to change that.

Updated!

Alastor slowly stirred awake, but something felt... off? he couldn't quite place his claw onto why...

Opening his tired eyes the ceiling slowly comes into his view, with a shuddery tired exhale he blinks the sleep out of his eyes, Alastor slowly turns his head to the side expecting to see his lover's sleeping form - a confused frown crossing over his features when it's empty.

Now that he's finally aware - burning white hot pleasure shoots up his spine as he finally registers the feeling of an intense warm wet mouth wrapped around his cock.

"Ngh! My doe! fuck-" Alastor stutters out, a flush now spreading over his cheeks, Alastor's hand shoots down and gathers her hair into a fist - fucking up into the warm tightness of her throat reflexively.

Letting out a surprised moan, he feels her try to relax her throat around him, biting his lip rather harshly, Alastor looks down. His eyes were locked with his lover's heated gaze - It was beautiful. She had a mix of emotions running through her eyes - slight embarrassment of being caught, excitement, and most importantly - Lust.

“Morning my love.” She moans out in response as he graciously lets her off his member to breathe, he feels one of her dainty hands trail up his upper thigh to hold onto the base of his cock, his breath hitching as he observes her leaning back down towards his throbbing excitement.

“As much as I appreciate the wake-up call, my little doe, May I ask-nh!” Alastor cuts himself off with a groan, bucking his hips at the sharp spike of pleasure caused by her talented tongue and lips. This causes his eager cock to slide back into her mouth, he sighs out her name as she begins to slowly bob her head in time with his shaky but eager thrusts. “Why are you deciding to suck me off this fine morning?” He manages to breathe out, his head falling back against his pillow with a moan.

Humming in response around his cock - he can distinctly feel her trying to smile around him. He knew she absolutely loved the way he fell apart in her hands in the mornings - as much as people thought he was: Alastor wasn’t a morning person at all, it took him a long time to fully wake up. Perfect situation for her to rile him up without facing his full wrath.

Getting slightly annoyed at the cheeky attitude. Alastor sits up abruptly, both hands now weaving their way through her soft hair, he harshly pushes her head down, forcing all of him to invade her throat, he grins in self satisfaction at the chocked noises that left her oesophagus - fresh hot tears gather in her waterline as she narrows her watery eyes up at him.

“Since you're so willing to indulge me, my dear. I hope you’ll be thorough with every inch of me.” Alastor grits out through his clenched teeth, the added warmth of her warm throat making him throb with need, he holds her there for a few more seconds before easing up on his grip and letting her pull back on her own violation.

Leaning back on one hand, Alastor regards her lazily as she coughs into the palm of her small hand, spit and pre-cum now lining her swollen lips, he almost wanted to lick them clean, but he was also curious as to how far she wanted to take this. “That wasn’t very nice, Al.” Pouting defiantly at him, she leans back down to continue.

Even though he can be a bit mean, she still had a goal in mind of making the radio demon unravel.

“Good girl…” Alastor half moans out as he watches her with hazy eyes, pleasure making its way up his spine in the form of soft strokes and delightful pets. Alastor really does enjoy the way his lover can take him without choking or complaining, even when he reaches far down her throat. But now, with pleasure starting to weigh on his patience, all he wanted to do was thrust into her hot and willing mouth. It was a challenge to keep his hips still.

“Nh” Alastor let out a heavy chuckle at the needy noises she made. This morning made more sense, she must've been incredibly needy for him. Alastor could definitely smell the 'neediness' in the room, her heady scent of desire wrapping around the room like potent perfume.

Feeling her humming around his cock snaps his attention back down to his lover, Alastor quirks a brow at the playful look that is sent his way, watching with rapt attention Alastor observed her as she gently wraps her hand around his base, she began to suction her lips around him intensely - to the best of her ability with his girth stretching her lips tightly.

Alastor's eyes almost roll to the back of his skull as she pulls her mouth back quickly, teeth lightly grazing the underside of his cock in the process. With the second withdrawal, he was shaking, and with the third, he was gasping for breath - she never made it to the fourth - Alastor's hands were now desperately clutching her hair so hard he knew it had to burn her scalp. Shoving her head all the way down to his base - Alastor lets out a staticky moan as he felt the eager twitch of his cock before he spilled down her throat with a few powerful spurts.

Looking down at her dutifully sucking his needy length Alastor simply couldn't hold back, it was only fair he returned the favor, so with the idea actioned, Alastor not so gently pinned her back onto the bed. The quilt that was covering her slipped off the bed with the force, causing rapid goosebumps to rise on her exposed flushed skin. He watched the subtle reactions with rapt attention, purring as her nipples hardened.

“You always know how to make me so impatient, don’t you, my little brat.” Quickly leaning down towards her neck, Alastor runs his sharp teeth down the column of her flushed throat, taking wicked delight in the way her body arches at the lightest of touches. “Don’t move your hands at any point, dear. Understand?” Sending her his dark look - Alastor lets her go. Knowing that she will do anything he says, he takes his time, moving down the bed all while maintaining eye contact with her.

Alastor makes himself comfortable between her thighs, her heady scent now as strong as ever. He wraps his large hands around the circumference of her thighs, loving the soft but pliable feeling of her flesh. He slowly pulls both of her legs over his shoulders, pulling her to his face, her warmth now surrounding him as the weight of her legs calms down his racing heart. Now incredibly content. Alastor leans in closer, taking a big inhale of the inviting scent, and lets out a pleased groan. He chuckles at her reaction, admiring how little he had to do to make his doe see stars.

“You always smell delectable love…” Alastor closes his eyes and slowly leans forward, pressing his tongue against her slick covered folds and begins to drag it up to circle around her clit slowly, he sometimes forgot just how exquisite she tasted.

“Al.” He hears her stutter out, his ears intently listening for her pleasure filled sighs. So he does it again. More forceful this time, tongue catching against her eager entrance and pulling it slightly, he could tell that she wouldn't last long, her hips already chasing his tongue when it left her clit.

“That’s it dear, sing for me.” With a new goal in mind Alastor presses his face against her cunt with vigor. Pressing his tongue into her as far as he can get it, twisting and rolling it against her walls to coax more of the delicious slick into his mouth.

He felt her begin to match his rhythm with her hips, grinding desperately down against his tongue - against his face. Pushing his face more into her musk, desperate for more. “Fuck Al!” She stutters out, causing Alastor to moan himself in response.

Alastor slides his hand to her front, his thumb now covering her throbbing clit, using the wide pad he begins to grind down onto the swollen nub, full-well knowing she loved it rough. The results were instant. She immediately started letting out teary cries of painful pleasure. Alastor groaned in encouragement as her slick now ran down his chin in messy shiny strands. She was getting close now.

But, Alastor wasn’t done with her yet. Pulling out his tongue he grinned in wicked amusement at her desperate cries of protest - which were short lived as he eagerly thrusted two of his slightly curled fingers into her tight heat, replacing his thumb on her throbbing clit with his lips.

“F-Fucking hell, Alastor!” She cried out, legs and toes cramping with how hard her body was tensing against him. A twisted idea of revenge crossed his mind, what his doe had done to him earlier coming back to light.

He now timed his suctions with his fingers, every time he thrusted his fingers into her spongy g-spot - he sucked against her clit as hard as he could. And just like with him, he only had to do it a few times before her shouts of ecstasy filled the room, back arching off the bed as she came onto his fingers and mouth.

Now sucking gently, Alastor lets his love ride out her orgasm until she collapses back against the mattress - a beautiful panting mess, licking his smirking lips. Alastor smugly sits up and wipes his face clean of her essence.

“Well dear, I hope your good morning activities played out to their desired outcome~"

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbinhotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #imagine

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thatlittlered · 5 months ago

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lovefool | aaron hotchner

warning(s): 18+, detailed description of sexual acts (m!masturbation) under the cut!

GIF by @scuttling

previous parts

author's note: feast on this, my metaphorical children, because more and better things are coming very soon. I also made a masterlist for your reading convenience.

Follow me @MadeofLilies at Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

Aaron finds himself quite disoriented when he wakes up next to you. Smooth cotton on his cheek, mellow morning light peeking through the blinds. The warmth of a soft body prevails over all. Chests touching, limbs entangled. It is almost becoming too warm under the covers, or it might just be the rush of realization.

The lovely smell of your freshly washed hair brings him closer; so close that he might nudge your cheek with his nose if he moves a single inch but he doesn’t dare. It would be the first ever act of intimacy between you in daylight.

You must have felt his breath on your face because you stir until there’s no space left between you. There is nowhere to look but in each other’s eyes.

It should feel weirder than it does.

He looks so young under this light; his face littered with moles that you would like to kiss. His hand dares to move to your eyebrow and settles the hair there tenderly before moving downward. The touch of his thumb might as well be a kiss when he’s tracing your cheekbone, your nose, your mouth.

“Good morning.”

His voice is hoarse and it makes you laugh.

“Good morning, Aaron.”

Neither of you wants to move, but you decide to take the plunge, “I’m going to make some coffee, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes his time getting up, looking around your room for more pieces of you to remember. He is drawn to your vanity where your perfume and hairbrush lie. You’ve left out a toothbrush for him; ever thoughtful.

When he finally joins you in the small kitchen, you’re a sight for sore eyes and you smile when you see him, pushing a steaming cup of coffee his way.

“Are you hungry?”

He sits so sweetly across from you on the kitchen island.

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Your feet touch, but neither of you moves away.

“You don’t eat breakfast?”

“I have cereal with Jack, mostly because he asks me to.”

The ease with which he had touched and kissed you the night before has dissipated, ephemeral confidence melting away to leave behind a man unsure of what to say or do. He wishes you had met a long time ago, when he could have given you the best parts of him. His best now is… meager. Those parts of him seem long gone, or more accurately, forcefully taken.

Now everything is an impossible decision to make. Every moment of intimacy comes with the fear of imminent darkness. He must dare to break way.

“We have cereal.”

You get up to grab the box from the shelf and when you turn around, he’s almost caging you between the counter and his body. His hands are on your face again, holding you in place so he can kiss you with the taste of coffee on his tongue, which begs for entry.

You both willfully ignore the tension building up between your bodies and how easy it would be to give in completely right now. It’s too soon, way too soon. He was simply taken with the smallest bit of skin that had peaked through when you reached to grab the box; wanted to remember what you taste like, to break away.

His hands are still on your face as he speaks, forehead to forehead.

“I can’t stay long; I have to pick up Jack from his aunt’s. I promised him we’d spend the day together.”

“That’s okay, I understand.”

He kisses you again but lingers, one last taste before he has to go.

“I would really like to take you out to dinner on our next day off.”

-.-.-

The days that follow are torture. You’re all drowning in backed up cases and the endless stream of paperwork that follows. The peaceful night of sleeping in each other’s arms and the coffee laced kisses are but a distant memory amidst this chaos.

Yet, in the rare moments when everything slows, it’s hard to keep his eyes off you, especially today. Especially when you’re wearing that red blouse. Aaron’s seen it before, appreciated it just as much as then against your complexion, but there’s something exhilarating, sinful about having seen it hang in your closet. It puts everything in a new perspective; this tantalizing secret between the two of you waiting to be realized again and again and again, if he can help it.

If only you had the time.

It takes all the self-restraint he can find within him not to approach you at the hotel. It would be easy, so easy, wouldn’t raise the faintest suspicion if he just knocked on your door after hours and you could talk – just a little. But, he can’t. He won’t. There are still limits.

Emotional exhaustion is a trap, with the mind begging for rest and the body ignoring its pleas till collapse. His body begs for you. Pleads to be held and kissed and gently lulled to sleep now that it knows the feeling.

The shower pressure is sharp, unkind, nothing like you, but the warm fog that follows… he can almost see before him the soft plane of your bare shoulder, the drops of water on your collarbone. He had not dared to look past, but he can only imagine and oh, he does. He could have surrendered himself completely, laid on top of you in the small bathtub in a mess of clothed and naked limbs. He could have allowed -begged of you- to touch him, feel any part of him you wanted to and then grant him the gift of doing the same. The smoothness of your wet body under his hands, the desperation in your kisses.

He can almost feel you on his fingertips right now, so, he gives in. Takes himself in hand to relieve the almost painful feeling. It’s muscle memory really, there should be nothing truly sensual about it but he can’t keep the images out of his head. His body recalls every detail of your touch and his mind takes advantage.

Images and feign sensations of your feather light touch on his stomach, trailing down to pay attention where he most needs you to. Your thumb presses delicately on the head, teasing him into a desperate awakening of his every sense. He is leaking for you already and you don’t let it go to waste, dragging your thumb up and down slowly until his precum spreads all over. It makes it easier to go further, pull the extra skin down gently and enjoy the sheer magnitude of him.

He jolts in your hand at the movement, but stays perfectly still after in fear that you will stop. You wouldn’t, not ever. A large vein runs on the bottom part of his cock and you can’t help but trace it, watching the way he reacts. He jolts again, begging for more, more of whatever you can give him and you take the hint. Your hand wraps around his base completely, enveloping him in softness he would die for, before beginning to move up and down in long, slow motions.

You kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck and he is about to collapse in front of you, nothing but a desperate, needy mess for you to play with. He is painfully close, can’t possibly even keep his eyes open and you can tell, so you go faster, harder. He comes with your name in his mouth.

Everything slows down from there. The spell of the warm shower fog once again wears off and when he opens his eyes, it’s painfully clear you’ve taken over his whole existence, so much so that he must fantasize about the things he’d like to do to you, and things he’d like you to do to him, in order to get through the night.

Come morning, when you’re all gathered in the jet and going home, he can’t look you in the eye.

You notice.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

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thedevilrisen · 14 days ago

Text

Concrete Impressions

Quinn x Reader!oc

Word Count: 1.3

Authorial Note: I hope you like it! This is basically the precursor fic to Cradle Me! I am making this an au, this is a little bit on how Quinn and Cookie meet! I will be making a part two to this fic!

TW: Not edited, swearing.

The day Quinn encountered you was the day he knew there was no one else for him. It was a warm autumn day on campus, though there was a significant breezing blowing with a spiteful chill. Your brown hair was tucked away in a neat plait down your back, a brown wide- ribbed sweater overlapping your dark patterned jeans which were rolled up over the top of your sneakers. You were waiting at the coffee cart, behind half-a-dozen people in line for their daily sustenance as well. Quinn watched from a table where he was placed, surrounded by a large group of his friends... well of some them were, other acquaintances, such as the sophomore girl who was trying desperately to giggle her way under his skin formed the majority of the numbers in the group. As you inched closer to the little counter at the front of the cart a blonde man, clearly impatient bumped into you. Quinn watched with wide eyes as you toppled over, books in hand spilling onto the dirty brick footpath.

Quinn had watched the young man who, essentially bumped you from your place in the line, stepped up to the vendor and ordered his drink. It troubled Quinn deeply that this young man had little to no regard for what he had done, or who he had done it too. At this point in time you didn't even know Quinn existed, or that he had singlehandedly decided that he need to know you, know if you could be the one. Because as he watched you part your hair from you face, tucking the unruly strands behind your ears as you pulled yourself and your books up from the ground, brushing the debris off your knees, Quinn knew that he needed to be the prince in your fairytale.

"Quinny! Where are you going!" the blonde girl, previously wrapping herself around his arm, nuzzling into his shoulder whined. This drew some attention from other members of the group, the watched as Quinn peeled the girl from his arm and quickly half walked, half jogged to where you were still trying to fix yourself up.

"Hey! Are you alright?" Quinn crouched down next to you, when you looked up at him, wide caramel eyes and a charismatic smile on your face he swear he almost melted.

"Oh! Yeah.. yes." you puffed out with a small laugh, "Just a bit of a topsy terby morning!"

Quinn was amazed at your optimism, it seemed like you were going to let the little situation upset the rest of your day. "Could I buy you a coffee?"

"Oh! You do not have to do that, I was purely just trying to get a small caffeine hit before my next class." you spoke, slinging your bag onto your shoulder, "Maybe even one of their amazing double fudge brownie cookies."

Quinn's lips tipped up in a small smile, "Don't ya think all of that chocolate is a-"

"Bit sweet?" you cut him off and Quinn nodded, letting out a breathy laugh, "I know. I love it though, especially when they heat it so the inside is all gooey!"

"I take it you like sweet things?" Quinn asked.

"You could say that!" you giggled back at him in response, stepping forward in line to the front, Quinn following beside you as you turned to the barista who was holding a cup and nico pen ready to take your order. "Could I please have.. a dirty chai on almond? Would you like anything?"

Quinn was surprised when she turned and asked if he wanted something, he stumbled out, “I’ll have a flat white.. two shots, two sugars please.”

Quinn smiles to himself airily, ‘she’s as gracious she is courteous.’ After shaking off his daze he spoke, “Didn’t you also want one of those… death by chocolate cookies?”

“Oh yes! Could I please have one of your double chocolate brownie cookies?” you asked, “Could you heat it up too please?”

The barista nodded and turned away to make your coffees and to retrieve the fabled cookie. Standing there Quinn realised he didn’t actually know your name, nor what you were studying. Just that you liked cookies and had a killer sweet tooth.

“So Cookie, do you have a name or am I gonna have to call ya that?” Quinn stated, breaking the ice.

“My name is Y/N, but you can call me Cookie if you would like stranger.” Y/N smiled back, eyes gleaming with humour.

“My name is Quinn.” He corrected. “You mentioned having class soon? Can I ask what you have?”

“Well Quinn.. I have modern history next.” You spoke, quietly thanking the barista as she passed over the two coffees and the box holding chocolate lava-y goodness. Together the both of you gravitated away from the cart, moving back in the direction of where Quinn was originally sitting. The group still crowding the tables.

“With Professor Ryan?” Quinn questioned hopefully, he had modern history next as well, was this his lucky day?

“Yeah! In the Carsledine building!” You took a sip of the steaming beverage in your hand, the other still holding the cookie box to your chest.

”I have MH too! Would you want to sit together in his lecture?” Quinn leaned over and grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder, exchanging a Quick handshake with a mate of his.

“Sure! I don’t normally sit with anyone but.. I guess things can change.” Y/N smiled, walking alongside with Quinn through the campus courtyard, taking note of the amount of female attention he received.

Quinn let Cookie slide in the door before he did, holding it open for her as she stepped into the expansive lecture hall. He followed her small frame as she nimbly weaved her way through the rows of fold up chairs. Cookie approached the the left side of the lecture hall, the wall was interrupted by a humongous window, offering an extensive view over the rest of the campus. Rain clouds hung low today, dew covered the bare branches of the deciduous trees. Quinn sat down next to her, he admired her gorgeous face as she pulled her iPad out of her bag. Quinn noted the way she meticulously set up her note taking page with her screen pen, placing in all the text boxes and writing headings out. She pulled a keyboard attachment out of her bag, navy coloured too. Being around you Quinn's gaze sharpened and his body longed to know every detail he could, like the fact that navy appeared to be a favoured colour. The glasses that you had delicately slid onto the bridge of your nose were a deep shade of navy blue with gold arms. The scrunchie you were tucking your long shimmering hair into a ponytail with. Your phone case, iPad case and keyboard as well as the colour of the ink she wrote onto the digital page with were all the same blue.

"Do you like sports?" Quinn had one channel of small talk he could always revert back too, and he was damned sure he was going to use it.

"I don't mind sports!" Cookie replied, looking up from the screen she was writing on, "I like skiing, cross country specifically none of that moguls business. I also run too, cross country as well!"

"Are you on the track and field team?" he asked, curious.

"I am! I captain the track team!" Cookie looked over at Quinn again, waving silently to the professor who had walked in. "What about you?"

"I play Ice Hockey." Quinn spoke, he wished to play his cards right. If he did so, maybe he could get her to a game. "I'm projected to draft in the first round of the NHL entry. I fly out to Dallas with my family in about a month and a half for it."

Cookie smiled, a little bewildered, "That is seriously awesome! Congratulations!"

For the first time Quinn didn't get that rolling feeling in his gut after telling someone where he was projected to go. Y/N took it with so much grace, she didn't pester him about it, she didn't instantly try to suck up and seduce him. She just accepted it. Congratulated him and seemed like she genuinely cared.

Holy fuck. Is this what being in love feels like?

#risen rambles :d #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl players #vancover canucks #vancouver canucks #Cookie Hughes #Cookie’s Universe #Quinn x Cookie

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aestheticpebbles · 2 months ago

Text

Servus Dei

Pairing: Priest!AU Aegon II Targaryen x reader

Warnings: NSFW/18+ ONLY! MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED, MDNI!, swearing, violence, murder, smut, religious/catholicism imagery/mentions/themes, priest+nun power dynamic abuse, dirty talking, light dubcon if you squint, fluff if you squint harder, use of alcohol, porn with plot, fingering, overstimulation, choking, oral (f receiving), p in v intercourse.

Summary: Father Aegon arrived at your convent, but things become alarming once you realize he isn’t the priest he appears to be.

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: fic below the cut! not religious at all so please correct me if I messed anything up! also, not proofread… but enjoy! inspo from his cunty hair serving from s1.ep.8.

1548. Somewhere outside of Florence, Italy.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.“

The rosary beads clenched tightly laced around your slender fingers nearly gave way to a pinching sensation between your knuckles as you prayed under your breath, reciting ‘Our Father’ as you do every morning upon dressing into your white habits and joining the nuns and sisters at the first morning service of your convent.

However, you weren’t sent here upon your own bidding, rather than fulfilling the wish of your parents after they sought to nip your rebellious streak of your late teenage years in the bud after you expressed during a drunken fit that you instead wished to dance and drink until you dropped before marrying off to some Lord.

You knew your parents did this to reduce any scandalous likelihood of you, an unwed daughter of a newer-money noble family, boring a bastard, but you still did not forgive them for your new life of chastity and divine mercy worship. Yawn.

You were still considered to be relatively new to the convent as you were just beginning your second year of working towards your devotion to God and being tested on your postulancy, so you still wore white robes and veils rather than black. You felt as though you had done well in your studies of the faith thus far considering the circumstances in which you were brought here upon.

“Good morning sister,” Sister Hilda, another white-robed sister about a year older than you, smiled once the first service ended and you found a place next to her side while making your way to the dining hall for breakfast.

The sun’s morning rays that began to peek over the horizon illuminated the dining hall with a dim, blue hue as the world awakened. You both made yourselves plates of bread and cheeses before sitting down together. Talk was kept small and hushed between the two of you while discussing various scriptures and chores needed to be done.

“I heard the new priest is arriving this morning,” Sister Hilda suddenly whispered under her breath, my eyes flickering up to meet her gaze upon the sudden topic of a conversation that could be considered borderline gossip and would serve much to the dismay of any superiors if anyone would overhear the two white-robed and veiled young women conversing over such a topic.

Instead of scolding Sister Hilda once your gazes met, you proved your nature of still wearing the white fabrics rather than blacks by leaning in as well about an inch or so, quickly looking around to see if anyone was lingering nearby to eavesdrop before responding to her.

“Is that so?” Your eyebrow cocked up in surprise. There had been talks of a new priest that had recently left from an abbey outside of London, and was continuing his preach of faith now here with us at our nunnery as our current priest was, well, he was old, “have you…?”

“Within the hour, I heard,” Sister Hilda’s eyes lit up with excitement, proving her own nature as she still struggled with her own inner turmoil with such activities. You found the vow of celibacy at first to be something that you wouldn’t have to think twice about while you devoted yourself, but as time went on, you found yourself seeking repentance and trying to pray away the gnawing feeling you felt bubbling within sometimes that made you doubt your own worth in the eyes of the faith.

You nodded once, acknowledging her words carefully with a playful side smirk. Though gossip was highly discouraged, word still had many opportunities to be carried by the wind throughout the dormitories of your convent.

“Il suo nome?” Your voice dropped down low once more after a few moments, switching from English to Italian just to be safe when you asked Hilda ‘his name?’, but she only shrugged in response, unsure of the answer either.

After breakfast, like usual, you found yourself in the library as you were one of the few sisters who, thanks to your upbringing in a decently noble family, had been taught Latin. You often found means of completing your daily chores by aiding in the translation of Holy passages and texts.

Today, you had been handed a scripture to be translated by an older nun who always wore a signature grouch, so there wasn’t much to be said when you were given the dusty book made of animal skin and thick, waxy lacing that secured the spine.

A relic of the sort lost to at least 300 years, resurfaced once more only to become your problem to deal with when you immediately find yourself scowling under your veil at the faded ink on the ancient pages. You stood up and found yourself a dictionary in Latin just in case whoever wrote that damn pitiful book didn’t know what they were saying, much to the older nun’s dismay but you didn’t care as you sat back down with a murmured ‘God help me’ under your breath.

Dipping your feather quill into a small jar of black ink, you began your day’s work of translating the pages that were practically threatening to fall apart as you delicately turned over each one.

It possibly would have felt odd for another white-veiled sister like yourself to have been tasked with translating such an eerie text of those who wore multiple, yet all beautiful faces and how to ward them off, but like it was just another day, it was just another book of Latin words that you were tasked to translate into fresh ink of English literature between your obligatory meetings for daily prayers and masses with the others, and you’ve read worse.

Your legs were itching to stand after sitting down for an extended period of time, nearly a static-like burn radiating deep as you leaned back in your chair from your upright posture, slouching your shoulder forward for a grace moment with an exhale before standing upright once more properly in case the Abbess, Mother Esther, walked by.

Afternoon sunlight beams shone through a nearby window that you now stood in front of trying to warm yourself up from the cooler temperature of the library, your muscles easing against the windowsill as your wrists and fingers had ached for a little while as well.

Being on the 2nd floor of the building meant having a lovely view of the convent’s architectural layout and the courtyard within the open holdfast of about an acre or so. A few young black locust trees littered the acre, creating enjoyable spots for shaded rest you occasionally found yourself under, almost smiling to yourself when thinking about better times than translating 300+ year old scriptures from Latin to English about an ill-satiable apparition—it’s biblical name, Agneo, one who shapeshifts and requires to feeds from the sins of its prey. A book of complete lunacy that was a blessing in disguise as it gave you something to do.

However, the momentary bliss of recounting suddenly soured once you realized you were about to miss the 4th prayer service mass of the day when you looked down from the window and saw a huddle of those remaining outside waiting to file along inside in orderly fashion across the courtyard of your convent.

It was no use to try to rush out and attempt to make it, so you hesitantly let out a tense sigh and leaned against the window still, your eyes moving to ground below until you saw mainly atop skulls of Mother Esther dressed in her finest– and in tow, a man that nearly made your lips part upon the sight of his features after the involuntary oath of celibacy you took on.

Broad shouldered, his face even from above was sharp-featured, straight nosed, and platinum blond hair as could be neatly combed and parted down the middle. He is, undeniably, the most beautiful man you have ever laid your wretched eyes on, and the sight made your legs press together as you watched the two of them below you.

Once seeing him, you were desperate to see Sister Hilda to willingly break your vows of what your new lifestyle meant to share the gossip of sin, to gossip silly words that meant plenty well beneath the surface that meant for yourself at least to have plenty of reason to seek confession and repentance from His mercy in the foreseeable future.

During your brief moment of pure sin, or what sin at least means to you at the time, you let out a small gasp and moved away from the glass realizing the neat head of hair was slowly tilting upwards in an almost premeditated manner, and from the 2nd floor, his ice blue eyes burned scorching hot daggers like the gates of hell straight into your soul for the mere seconds that you held his sudden eye contact.

As if he knew you were standing there above him and Mother Esther, as if he knew you had been leaning against the edge of the windowsill with your legs crossed and your thighs pressed together at the perfect angle while you watched them when you were supposed to be in the 4th prayer service.

Your heart was pounding in a mixture of adrenaline, anticipation, and … excitement. A certain feeling you haven’t felt since before being sent here. Desire.

Despite shifting away from your original stance next to the window, your vision couldn’t move away any further out of sight from him as the two of you kept your eyes locked.

Within that brief moment that felt like eternity and despite the temptation that threatened to fester within your neglected core now reigniting, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as your instincts inside your mind began screaming ‘flight’ but your feet were cemented in place while looking down into his cold, dead eyes.

Behind the decrepit Mother Esther’s back, the new priest held his eye contact with you with a stone-like expression of almost disgust until the corners of his lips tugged and curled upright into a smirk. One side of his lips tugged higher than the other side and it made your blood run cold despite the heat pooling between your legs.

You exhaled once his head turned to meet Mother Esther’s as she turned back around to him to point out the library, and the two of them continued on and you were finally able to move from the frozen stance you held.

You had managed to avoid the new priest, his name quickly learned by you through Sister Hilda to be Father Aegon—until you found yourself kneeling before him at the altar rails while he wore the same disgustedly amused expression while placing the communion bread into your cupped palms sitting upright.

“Amen,” you murmured softly, placing the wafer into your mouth as he extended his other hand and brought the cup of wine in front of you as you swallowed thickly.

“The blood of Christ, shed for you,” Father Aegon nearly purred, the sound of his voice speaking directly to you for the first time was intimidating enough, let alone the manner in which it rolled off of his tongue was enough to catch you off guard and leave you stunned at such a vocal display during a Holy service.

Your lips had parted a few centimeters due to your shock and your bottom lip quivered as you barely choked out another ‘amen’ in response while he pressed the rim of the chalice against the pillowed flesh.

Maybe it was the way he spoke, or the way he wears devilish tight-lipped smiles like he knows he's fluffing up another chicken house with unpreened, unruffled hens who live among cobwebs, or maybe it’s the way you can feel him staring straight down into your soul as you took a sip of the wine while holding eye contact with him up through your eyelashes.

After drinking the same wine since the day you first arrived and you had returned to your seat, you realized on your tongue that the aftertaste of the once bitter representation of the Blood of Christ was now sweet. Too sweet.

The type of sweet that makes the feeling of temptation to yearn for more not sound half bad even though you still found shame while you prayed in your seat until the end of the communion, even more so in the hours that followed when nobody else seemed to comment on the wine. As if the taste was unchanged to the rest.

You actually managed well to avoid Father Aegon as he settled in and slowly took over hosting more and more masses and prayers over the next fortnight, though it was absolute agony that was slowly chipping away at your sanity.

No matter the distance between the two of you, an unnerving fear always found you when in his presence and even more so if it was without your knowledge on a passing occasion or he could see you but you couldn’t see him. Since the day he arrived, you felt like you were no longer alone at any moment, always holding your breath to turn a corner like an accidental dance of cat and mouse for no real reason.

You’d be shunned if you dared speak the reason of your maintained distance being temptation, even if you were going such lengths avoiding him to resist such.

Father Aegon’s piercing gaze alone sent chills down your spine, enough to rattle the assembled vertebrae within the confines of your habits just like the one that coursed through you while you browsed the shelves of the library looking for works regarding astronomy to keep you company in the late hours after the Midnight Mass.

You didn’t need to see him to know he was likely stalking nearby, whispering with that strangely enticing demeanor he holds himself up with, and the way his perfectly plump lips were always cocked in some purse of amusement to offset the dark purple, sunken look to his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days, weeks.

Your own eyes had begun to mirror Father Aegon’s sullen look as well during your descent into the madness occurring within your mind when you started to lose sleep because of him sinking his claws into you even in your dreams filled with imagery of sin beyond your comprehension. The more time you spent trying to avoid him, the more he encroached upon every aspect of your life and you hadn’t so much but exchange momentary glances and proper greetings spoken hushed on your part.

After all, anyone would find holding eye contact difficult with one whom they have carnal, perverse dreams about, waking up panting in the middle of the night covered in sweat and an agonizing pool between your legs. Even after waking up you could still feel his touch on your skin.

Though what terrified you the most was the eventual visible appearance that left residual memory fragments from the vivid dreams, as if they themselves were distant memories, real memories, from the past. Gripping bruises protected by layers were littered around your wrists, arms, thighs, breasts, small bite marks and scratches even as well. Some even would remain red, or pink as if they had just occurred moments or hours prior, but that couldn’t be possible.

You’ve been alone all these nights… right?

“What could possibly interest you at such an hour, sister?” The voice of the dreaded priest you desperately sought to avoid drew out from behind you, causing your shoulders to roll back into a stiffened posture to play off the chill that threatened to visibly shake you. You closed your eyes for a moment while goosebumps broke out across your skin hidden beneath the white fabrics before quickly reaching up to grasp the book you intended to grab and pulled it close to your chest before turning around to face him.

“Astronomy, Father,” you answered without nearly half a spine, mentally cursing yourself at your inability to hold yourself with dignity when subject to his commanding gaze.

Father Aegon never failed to not wear his smug grin that seemed to compliment the sullen orbs that were half-lidded in what could only be described by a blind person as being a seductive manner. When you finished answering him and his smirk grew, you didn’t miss his tongue swiping across his pillowy bottom lip— both stained red… and the smell that belonged to that of alcohol.

You swallowed thickly once putting the puzzle pieces in place and your fingers gripped the corners of the book tighter and the edges dug into the creases of your fingers creating a pleasant stinging sensation to help stay grounded. The priest, he who is supposed to live and serve to proclaim the word of God, stood here before you with sweet wine coating his wicked tongue with practiced precision.

Father Aegon had sin written all over his cruelly beautiful face. Certainly not to be trusted at any given second.

Father Aegon’s smug half-smirk was still etched on his mouth that sent another chill down your spine when his irises unmistakably fell from holding your gaze down to your own lips with those lazily-hooded blue eyes swirling with emotions beyond your somewhat innocent comprehension.

Father Aegon was absolutely terrifying to be around, but although your fear didn’t directly come from him, your own body produces enough cortisol and epinephrine for an entire herd of corralled sheep waiting to be slaughtered by just being around him. Afraid of the fact that if he touched you right now, you know you wouldn’t be able to stop. Afraid of the fact that you know he may know how you truly feel deep down by just looking at you with those eyes that appear to be hiding an inferno from within himself.

“Copernicus…” Father Aegon suddenly murmured with a cock of his eyebrow as if he had posed the single word as a question rather than the affirmative tone he used when referencing the Polish astronomer whose works had caught your interest when accessible, “you like him, Sister?”

“He’s an accomplished astronomer and a fine mathematician,” you responded carefully, unsure of the waters of the moment and feeling the bile threatening to rise and expel which prompted you to kindly dismiss yourself wishing to depart to rest for the evening until he suddenly reached out as you turned to walk. His taut grip around your dainty wrist in comparison to his large hand was daunting and was an unexpected rush of surprise-horror when you were practically yanked back where you stood before him.

“Hm,” Father Aegon hummed in amusement, a flash of something eerie glazing over his lazily hooded eyes while his strong grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but not without his calloused thumbpad grazing gently across the delicate skin of the underside of your wrist, “why don’t you come by my office tomorrow evening? I have a piece that would interest you… brought it with me from when I met him briefly at Oxford.”

Your own eyebrow cocked at his words, nearly-half bewildered that a man like him went from such a prestigious place like the Oxford society to… priesthood in Florence where he, in the middle of the night, now was intoxicated and having you cornered like a rat subject to his mercy while his thumb caressed your wrist like a coveted lover.

Your eyes flickered down to the tight grip he held on your arm and you dared to pull once more, and much to your surprise he let go. Looking back up at him, he was amused with a strange sense of triumph like he could already foresee the internal turmoil you would be rolling in all day tomorrow until you would eventually cave in within yourself to give in and seek him out for the sake of knowledge.

Wasn’t that the sin of Eve? Coaxed by the snake, the devil, to taste the forbidden apple of knowledge?

Father Aegon wouldn’t taste half as sweet as an apple, but a part of you knew deep down that with dealing with a man like him and his caliber comes with knowing the venom from his fanged canines would likely sting twice as bad in the days to come if you did not seek him out.

So like the loyal hound you were, there weren’t many inhibitions that stopped your fingers from clasping the golden ring hanging from a matching golden lion’s head mounted on the wooden door and knocking twice. You knew you had no business being here at this hour. You had stopped by this very office twice today, once before dinner, and again afterwards but left both times with only pursed lips and heightened anxiety. Evening. Evening. Evening.

“Sister…” Father Aegon grinned upon seeing the sweet lamb standing there outside of his door waiting so patiently for him like the good girl that he knew she is even if she couldn’t muster any words to properly greet him. He stepped out of your way with an outstretched palm directed towards an empty chair sitting on the other side of his desk, the open hand gesturing to you to sit, “please, come in.”

Shame and humility fueled the pace that drove your footsteps from the corridor and into his working office in a scurry, the fuel most delectable for sin to fester within and grow necrotic while Father Aegon shut the door behind you. You couldn’t miss the sound of the lock turning over as you focused on your breathing pattern and your fumbling fingertips toying with one another as you sat down and silently pulled your chair in under yourself.

It wasn’t the locking of the door that made your eyes widen, but watching him pick up a golden, jeweled chalice that sat on the edge of his desk with matching rings adorning his thick digits, taking a hearty swig while sauntering behind you and over to a large bookshelf on the left wall that likely carried prized works both owned by the convent and his finest pieces.

You kept your head straight for the most part, only tilting it slightly to be able to keep an eye on him in the corner of your peripheral and through the thin white veil head covering, watching his ringed finger reach up to one of the shelves while the other hand held the chalice. The way he moved so freely was almost sensual in a way, his fingertip grazing the spines of the prized collection of knowledge as he searched using the dim orange glow emanating from the roaring hearth that danced as the flames waved.

“Tell me, sweet girl, what is it about the stars that calls to you… draws your attention so?” Father Aegon suddenly broke the silence that only hosted the soft crackling of the embers causing your head to angle slightly more in his direction. You swallowed thickly again, inhaling through your nose while watching his index finger curl around a medium-sized book and gently tug it free from the confines of the neat shelf.

“One can’t help but wonder who they are,” you answered shakily, referring to the stars themselves, the subconscious anxious habit of your fingertips toying with one another going full blast in your lap that had sparked back to life hearing the previous words of endearment he must addressed you with as if he was toying with you too, “what are they… what are they made of?”

Father Aegon nodded slowly with another hum of acknowledgment as he turned on his heel with his chin cockily angled, walking back over to where you sat on the other side of his desk and stepped next to your chair. He held out the book for you to take and you did after a moment of hesitation, taking the book delicately from him as your eyes danced over the intricate stitching and adhesives carefully applied that held the valuable text together.

He stood over you for a moment with one hand on the back of your chair, the other bringing the rim to his lips for another swig before he let go, much to your approval as you let out an exhale you didn’t realize you were holding, and stepped away to sit down in his own chair on the other side of the desk while you admired and he purred out, “the book… Copernicus’ heliocentric theories. One of the first copies given to me from Nicolaus himself. I’ll let you borrow it for the evening...”

You couldn’t hide the spark of interest that illuminated behind your eyes at the topic that you had been wishing to learn more about as the theories were still considered recent developments. A small smile crept onto your face but you quickly pursed your lips together to swallow your pride and triumph– something that didn’t pass by Aegon, but the suggestive tone towards the end of his final words didn’t pass by you either.

“Thank you Father,” you murmured softly, your thumbs grazing over the pressed letters of the title embossed and sealed by gold leaflets, “you are very gracious.”

Father Aegon only chuckled darkly, something you hadn’t heard yet until now and it was scarier to experience first hand than his empty, soul-piercing glare.

He took another sip of his wine before setting the chalice down on the desktop and leaning forward on his forearms with intertwined fingers and an unmistakable gleam in his wicked eyes, “I’ll tell you what Sister. I have heard nothing but good remarks regarding your performance… I’ll let you have it if you promise to take good care of it.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and your forehead scrunched in confusion, lips parting in shock but quickly stammering out a response to his words while gently placing the book down on the desk with a forced smile. A part of joining sisterhood was an oath of poverty despite your aversion to the lifestyle but your conditioning was taking over your frazzled mindset, and a book of that value had no business being in your possession good marks or not.

“Father I-I apologize, I can’t accept such a gift, you honor me but-I,” your tongue and lips failed to coordinate without an exasperated stutter while your brain misfired, only making Father Aegon’s lips curl further upwards in a devious smile.

“Call it a favor then,” Father Aegon replied with a low purr, his half-lidded eyes missing any trace of the blue pigment against the orange hue of the fire and the darkness of the world as he stood up, slowly stalking back around to where he stood behind your chair again.

“A…favor?” Your eyebrows dropped from the cocked expression of shock into one of weary alert as you tried to read him as best as you could, holding eye contact with him until he eventually always won with the inferno that reflected in his black holes for dilated irises while he walked to your most vulnerable side.

“A favor,” Father Aegon sluggishly murmured in response, his teeth baring in his amused grin when you flinched feeling the topside of the joints of his fingers reach up from behind you and brush against your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered under his delicate brushing touch against your cheek, unable to comprehend a single thought in regard to how to react to such inappropriate behavior and gestures being exchanged, but after involuntary celibacy and conditioned shame, it only drove you further mad yearning for the touch of a skilled lover after being denied such pleasures for so long.

It wasn’t until his index finger pressed against the underside of your chin to lift your head up and his thumb curling up to press against your bottom lip that you were violently dragged back to reality. Looking up at him while fidgeting with your fingers absentmindedly in your lap, he smiled deviously as if he was a child with free reign in a candy shop.

He stepped in front of you to enter the small space available between you sitting in the chair and his desk, leaning against the edge as he twisted and reached back to grab the chalice he’d left behind, turning back to you. Your heart pounded in your chest watching him extend his hand, guiding the rim to your lips and raising the cup for gravity to let the rich, deep red juice funnel into your mouth as if you were kneeling at the altar and had already received your tasteless communion wafer.

Eyes widening, you realized he wasn’t relenting until you finished off the remnants of the chalice when he kept tilting the cup’s stem and you having to swallow in faster lapses than expected to keep up with his antics causing you to choke softly.

You pursed your lips shut tightly with a bemused expression on your face between his actions and the sweet red wine, unable to save the small bead that gathered and trickled down from your lip to your chin, but Aegon was there to spare your white habits from any stains with a brush of his thumb collecting the alcoholic nectar and bringing it to his own lips to suck clean off.

“Tell me… why are you really here?” Father Aegon slurred out between tipsy snickers after releasing his thumb with a sickly sweet suckle like he knew exactly the effect he had on you and the reactions you were willing to give back with a little shove.

“My parents wished not for scandal,” you blurted out, almost like not caring how sloppy you spoke for the sake of your own honorable presentation.

“So, you liked to get around. You liked to have fun… you were a whore?” Father Aegon’s grin was wicked and curled up with a sense of malice as he gently caressed your cheek while you shared details about yourself to him. You knew he found some sort of satisfaction with your words by the way his teeth clenched like he was thinking hard through the intoxicated haze of his own mind.

“Um-,” your eyebrows furrowed again, a streak of anger shooting through you causing you to flinch again away from his hand, pulling out of his grasp on your chin as you stood up, not willing to explain to him that laying with two men that you had possibly seen as prospective husbands doesn’t make a young lady… a whore, “I apologize Father this is highly inappropriate. I should go.”

Your abrupt reaction to his words seemed to replace the playful gleam in his eyes with one that teetered on the edge of malice and danger, one that made your blood run cold. Panic flared through you when he dropped the golden chalice without care, and grabbing your wrist with one hand, yanking you back down to sit again.

“We are not done talking, Sister,” Father Aegon snarled out, a sinister gleam in his eyes while he stood up straight, letting go of your wrist only to take a hold of your chin once more, your lips slightly smushed between his fingers, “I haven’t given you permission to dismiss yourself.”

“I-I am sorry, Father,” you sputtered out, unsure of how to respond to him and his firm, calculated grip that always reminded you he was one step ahead at any given point. Aegon only hummed in amusement, his moist tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip as he turned your head in his grip from side to side, studying the details of your face against the orange glow from the inferno of the fireplace.

“Let me see you show it…Prove it,” Father Aegon’s eyes lit up in deranged excitement while yours glossed over in confused horror, sitting frozen in shock while he kept his grip on your chin with one hand, the other reaching up seemly to lovingly caress your cheek only to fist a palm full of your white veil, forcefully undressing your dreadful headdress and revealing one of your secrets you hid from your other Sisters. Instead of cutting your hair short like the rest, you kept yours braided and secured beneath your headdress, the same one Aegon pulled off without hesitation that made your jaw drop in disbelief.

“I don’t understa-,” you cried out in a sudden frustration, angered that he was abusing the power dynamic he knew he held, then still having enough fuel inside him when daring to lay a hand on you in such an inappropriate manner and revealing your hair.

If your Sisters found out you hid your hair, you could suffer greatly socially, and Aegon just paved his way straight over without any second thoughts. Your words though were cut off when his fingers clutched your braids and yanked you back to your feet.

“Understand this, doll. I see the way you look at me, how you scurry away from me like a mouse, there’s nowhere you can hide from me,” Father Aegon taunted, his dilated pupils laced with delirium and sin as he maniacally giggled, “I know everything.”

Any protests or shrill shrieks that could have escaped your mouth would be forced to be made straight into Father Aegon’s mouth that nearly swallowed your face whole when his lips came colliding down on yours in a pre-established sloppy, yet demanding kiss.

You wished to want the will to release a frightful scream against his lips, to cry out in disgust, to thrash around violently in his concrete hold on you while he forced his tongue into your mouth after letting go of your chin and dropping down to your hip.

His grip quickly moved from squeezing your hip around to your backside, grabbing a fistful of your buttock and his other hand still holding and tugging on your hair to elicit a gasp while your palms were outstretched when pressing back against his firm chest, but you did none of those things as your mind began buzzing softly, signaling the beginning the swirling descent into a tipsy haze from the amount of alcohol he had you consume in one sitting.

In fact, you did the opposite once the taste of him resonated with you when you found yourself sucking back on his tongue instead of screaming and crying about your dignity, your outstretched palms bundling up the fabric of his neat, black collar between your fingers like a deserted whore needy for more. Because that’s exactly what you felt like, and the realization made you sick when you suddenly were spun around in his groping embrace to be lifted onto the desktop.

Father Aegon wasted no time shoving his knee between your legs and parting them to situate himself between your legs without breaking the heated exchange between your lips that caused soft groans to escape from the both of you.

His hand that held your buttock again wasted no time reaching under your skirts, hiking the fabric up while he held your whimpering skull in place by your hair as he kissed down your jawline, panting heavily in your ear when he traced up your inner thigh.

He smiled wickedly against the shell of your ear while you managed to let out a stifled moan feeling his fingertips slither their way past your small clothes dampened by your arousal, massaging agonizingly slow circles against your clothed clit, sending ripples of electricity through your body. a soft, humiliating ‘there she is’ was murmured into the cartilage that echoed down to your eardrum once your lips parted with your surrender and giving into his touch, your cheeks shamefully burning red hot.

“For someone who took a vow of chastity, your cunt weeps like a virgin,” Father Aegon nibbled softly on your earlobe while your face contorted in pent-up pleasure and your mind swirled. In truth, you hadn’t truly consumed that much alcohol, but the effect he had on your mind caused the effect to feel 10-fold from the scent of his musk and the wine on his lips, his wretched tongue and damned touch assaulting all of your senses out of nowhere.

Your fingers clutching onto his black button up gripped on for dear life feeling his fingers begin to variate their course from rubbing circles to teasing your slit before dropping down, his middle finger breaching fully past your entrance coaxing a shrill gasp from your throat that his lips were licking and placing open-mouthed kissing down. One of your hands jumped from his shirt to his bicep, wincing from the sudden scissoring penetration as he got to work establishing a pace.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” Aegon murmured quietly through a groan against your skin, your entrance clamping down almost painfully around the 2nd digit he teased your tight hole with for a moment before adding it in, his middle and ring finger moving in and out of you in overwhelming patterns that made you look at the back of your skull doubled with the feeling of his free hand suddenly groping your breast through your robes, pinching and rolling your clothed nipple between his fingertips, “this pussy ever been fucked?”

Your eyes rolled back straight and snapped wide open at the vulgarity of his words, your lips parted further in sheer shock that those words could at all even be used together in a sentence, but your body was still betraying you as you ground your hips against his hand that was fucking you mercilessly. How this man became a priest was beyond you at this point, barely choking out a ‘yes’, his gaze darkening as if that wasn’t what he wanted to hear and he let go of your breast, reaching up behind the nape of your neck again.

Aegon’s hand found a hold your braided hair and twisted once more, a pained cry leaving your lips and your eyes screwing shut in another wince while his own lips were curled upwards. His eyes bright with a sinister intent, his other hand still pumping his two fingers in and out and you panted with a heaving chest.

“My name, sweet girl, say it right,” Aegon purred with an underlying, dangerous tone of voice that hid the true intentions that he was only giving you one chance to say it right despite multiple answers being applicable to stroke his ego while his fingers repetitively curling a ‘come hither’ motion within you.

“Yes sir,” you finally cried out, his chest emanating a grunt of acceptance meanwhile your spine arching as the coil deep within you threatened to build up. As if Aegon could read you like the back of his hand, he let go of your hair and reached around you as he swiped everything, including the prized book, clear from off of his desk.

He withdrew his fingers from your weeping cunt much to your dismay, only to be rendered speechless when he used both of his hands to grab and move you by your hips to the side of the desk, using one to shove your back down to lay on the surface and the other to hastily hiked up the skirt of your habits as his head dipped down, his lips kissing and his teeth nipping up your inner thighs.

You prayed that nobody was walking by Father Aegon’s office as they’d receive earfuls of lewd cries that fumbled from your throat in wails after he practically dove headfirst, your legs on his shoulders and his hands holding you in place by your thighs as his lips and tongue got to work swirling and sucking on your clit.

His platinum silver curls that were neatly parted down the middle, combed and slicked back behind his ears was disheveled within seconds as you reached down and carded through his hair, crying out in pleasure and awe at his ability to seem like he already knew every inch of you by heart.

“O-Oh my,” you squeaked out, your jaw agape as you tried to grind your hips against his face as he groaned delicious vibrations against your core, his tongue in place of his fingers greedily drawing your essence from your walls in filthy slurps that had you sobbing praises in a pleading mantra as you writhed in place.

“That’s it, good girl,” Aegon praised between quiet growls, kitten-licking your tented and overstimulated bud leaving you whining and yearning for more. The coil had begun to wind up tightly in your lower belly creating a burning sensation that threatened to snap like a taut rubber band.

“I’m gonna’ come,” you cried out softly and he chuckled darkly, nipping your sensitive flesh before suckling harshly that elicited a sharp yelp from your throat that quickly morphed into a wail of surprise as you flew headfirst into your first orgasm in almost two years. Aegon feasted and slurped every drop that expelled from your contracting cunt like a starved man, groaning in delight when your evidence of ecstasy from his touch spilled from your aching core and into his greedy mouth that caused your toes to curl painfully.

Father Aegon quickly stood up, not bothering to wipe his fingers and chin that were still glistening with the residue of your orgasm causing a deep blush to form on your flushed cheeks as you slowly came back to reality from the sound of his belt unbuckling.

Aegon hastily reached into his pants and pulled his throbbing cock free from the confines of his black dress trousers, watching his beautifully plump lips parting when he slapped the angrily flushed head against your weeping cunt a few times. His vile actions were so bewildering you were rendered speechless once more, unable to formulate words when looking up at him with bleary eyes as he fondled your folds for a few seconds, gathering your slick and smearing it across his tip and down his thick shaft waiting impatiently to fuck you in half.

“This is wrong. I-We shouldn’t do this. I don’t want this. God for-,” you managed to blurt out in soft whimpers, lying to yourself to try to hold onto the last shred of dignity you had while shaking your head only earning a sadistic smile in response from Father Aegon as he cut you off.

“You don’t want this? You weren’t the same girl watching me, pressing her thighs together as she hid in the library? Stupid girl, you’re so desperate and touch-starved, I could smell your cunt from outside. Your False God isn’t here. He can’t save you,” Aegon cooed softly, shutting you up immediately as you were left staring at him like he sprouted three-heads. You wouldn’t be surprised at this lint though. A priest using the words ‘False God’— how ironic.

Despite his cruel words, his tone of voice was almost sickly sweet if his hand wasn’t guiding the head of his cock back to your entrance and you braced yourself with a shrill gasp while he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours while he giggled maniacally under his breath sending chills of fear down your spine.

Father Aegon whispered in a taunting sneer as he continued to threaten you in a gravelly voice under his breath, the stench of wine still lingering on his tongue mixed with your release, “oh, pretty girl, the only God here is me,” and with that, he pistoned his hips forward.

A sharp hissing cry fell from your lips feeling the tip of his cock parting your neglected walls, splitting you from the inside out as your jaw hung agape and his eyes were wide– almost deliriously so as his own jaw hung agape too as if he was breathing out the energy of the cries carried out by your exhales while it seemed as though your body was losing energy as the seconds passed on. Like his hand, his hips made work establishing a steady pace as he fucked you open for him, drawing raw shrieks from your diaphram that forced him to clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aegon snarled against the back of his hand as your eyes rolled back, his lips kissing the corner of your parted lips when he finally let go of your mouth after the initial burn within your core dissolved and your sobs died down. His plump lips continued to kiss down your jaw, suckling and nibbling up and down your neck as you moaned and cried out shamelessly.

His words were absolutely vile and defiling and he knew it only spurred your innocent heart further, his hand that was pressed against your mouth dropping back down to grope your breast as he fucked you deeply, “God your cunt was made for my cock. Fuck it’s so fuckin’ tight– you like it when I talk to you like that? You like being fucked like some needy slut? ‘Course you do. What would your Sisters think if they found out what their whore pupil was doing in here?”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you suddenly started blabbering out in response despite your own legs hiking up around his hips to draw him in closer, your hands reaching up and gripping onto whatever you could while you rocked back and forth to his merciless motions.

“Yes you can,” Aegon panted breathlessly against your skin, his tongue swiping across your collarbone as he grunted over and over in his own world of desire, the lewd sound of skin slapping and your cunt squelching was foul in harmony with the considerably romantic blazing of the fireplace while he kissed his way back up your neck and caught your lips in another fiery, sloppy kiss between grunts and moans and cries of pleasure.

He murmured against your lips and his free hand not holding you down against the desktop in place by your breast being kneaded between his fingers, reaching between the two of you with his other hand and rubbing furious circles on your overstimulated clit, “say my fuckin’ name. give it all to me.”

“Aeg- I’m,” you cried out against his lips trying to obey his command to use his name while feeling the coil quickly wind tight once more as he effortlessly fucked you apart. As you came, stars littered your blacked out vision as you trembled and writhed, your spine arching pathetically trying to gather as much friction as possible while you shook in pleasure. Aegon moaned lowly feeling your walls contract and squeeze his cock as he continued without stopping, fucking you straight through the waves of ecstasy that left you feeling as though you had to piss everywhere, but that wasn’t what it was.

You could not have cared any less about any repercussions of your undoing with this man tonight— until he pulled out, flipped you around and bent you over the desk, plunging back inside of your cunt from a new angle causing a mewl to rip through you, and even more so when your walls fluttered down and you practically squirted back, coating both his legs and yours from your newfound experience of being overstimulated.

But as Aegon was turning you around, you suddenly had the perfect view of Father Aegon in the reflection of a mirror that had been hanging on the wall behind you, now seeing him in a full display in a reflection for the first time and took in the image that could have fueled your nightmares for the rest of eternity.

His shadow was cast up against the ceiling from the flames of the hearth illuminated, except two massive wings stood above Aegon and joined his body’s shadow as you mewled out incomprehensible words of confusion through the haze of pleasure that wracked your mind.

“Aegon,” your voice cracked, your eyes flickering to the mirror hanging on the wall dead ahead of the two of you, finally seeing Father Aegon for who he was finally through another lense and the sight alone made a scream of fear tear through you, but once more his hand came clasping down on your mouth and another sharp cursed reprimand dripping in poison was hurled at you from behind. The reflection of the man that had you bent over like a plaything, pistoning his thick cock roughly in and out of your aching cunt in the reflection of the mirror was unlike any creature you’d ever laid eyes on before.

In the reflection, while your face was streaked with tears and flushed in terror, his face looked nothing like what you saw with your own eyes, his reflection having beady black eyes, almost paper white skin, teeth long and sharp like fanged razors and his hands with long, clawed digits. You couldn’t miss the tall, pointed and curly black horns and the almost impressive black feathered wings that slowly rose and outstretched in the air after you said his name.

You couldn’t pull your eyes from the mirror even after he said your name, his hand eventually let go of your mouth and roughly grabbed your jaw, holding your head steady. Tears flowed hot from your eyes as you tried to thrash in his hold but it was no use as he chuckled wickedly above you, his pupils blown wide but it was no comparison to the dark, gaping holes you saw in the reflection of the mirror.

Father Aegon was no Father, no priest at all, learning within seconds that life was in fact cruel like that. Was there truly a God now realizing you had the entire situation practically spelt out for you when you translated that ancient scripture in the library, but you were too naive to realize the foreshadowing. The name of the shapeshifting apparatus isnt Agneo. It’s fucking Aegon.

This revelation truly meant only one thing: Aegon was a demon, and you, by saying his name, sealed off the deal and selling him your soul, his hand angling your chin up and to the side to press his lips down on yours, his tongue working your mouth apart once more, grunting against your lips when his pace faltered.

You felt your womb grow heavy while he panted and mewled, his wretched seed spurting from the head of his cock as his hips twitched between stilled moments, painting your walls as he moaned into the crook of your neck. You thought it’d be the end of the night, your mind too frazzled to even comprehend what to do next as your blurry eyes cracked open from being scrunched shut.

But Aegon’s nightmarish reflection remained the same, his smile sinister and evil as his snakelike tongue sharp and black as could be trailed up the side of your cheek as his hand kept its tight grip on your chin to hold you steady while he collected your salty tears on his tastebuds.

“Aegon…Please don’t hurt me,” you whispered pathetically, trying to claw at his taloned grip on your face and it almost struck a chord within his despicable body as he chuckled darkly, placing a soft kiss on your trembling cheekbone.

“I think it’s too late for that, sweet girl, you taste too divine,” Aegon purred softly, your doe eyes wide with horror watching in the reflection of his other hand reaching up, his clawed talon delicately moving a stray lock of hair from your face. He actually admired you, pleading through tears and drool and all, but the moment had to end at some point as his clawed hand caressed your temple and he murmured softly against the apple of your cheek.

“Just know this though, so far, I think you were my favorite. I might actually miss you,” Aegon kissed your pillowed flesh for the last time after vocalizing his odd apology that almost felt genuinely sentimental before his talons dug into your chin and your temple to hold you steady as you cried out in protest, then silenced for eternity after his wrists rolled and snapped your neck.

His deflating cock was still buried to the hilt within you as you dropped lifelessly against the desk, and the demon removed himself from his latest victim with a triumphant smile. He hastily readjusted himself and your skirt to cover your modesty, not that you were alive anyway to care, as he sat back down in his seat.

Father Aegon kicked up and crossed his legs on the desk while pouring himself another chalice of wine, continuing to admire your lifeless expression of shock while your pupils slowly dilated, and the blood that slowly dribbled out of your nostrils and out from your lips onto the desk. The blood dripped down onto the floor while your lost soul descended to the pits of Hell with that same sinister smirk he wore the first time he laid his eyes on you.

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #tom glynn carney #aegon targaryen ii #tomglynncarney #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x reader #tom glynn carney x reader #tom glynn carney smut #hotd #targtowers #hotd smut #alternate universe

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slvtforoldermen · 9 months ago

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Pedro’s Characters: The Dick-tionary

How big are Pedro Pascal’s characters and some NSFW headcannons

(WARNING: DETAILS OF PENISES AND TALKS OF SEX - MDNI)

Part Two <3

A/N: Sorry I never continued Fluff February :(, I lost motivation so I’ll just write them and post them as a prompt list for whenever…

Joel Miller:

Okay, all his characters are big, it’s a known fact, but Joel is 100% the biggest. Probably about 8.5 inches, with a pretty pink mushroom tip, and GIRTHY AGH! There’s a vein on it that is really visible when he’s hard. Oh and his balls are big too. Everything about Joel is just big. Not only is he big but you best believe he knows how to use it too. He’s got a daddy kink… Fav positions are missionary and cowgirl, however when he’s angry doggy or the mating press are a no-brainer. Daddy kink! DOMINANT!!! There’s no way this man is a sub, it just doesn’t work, he’s just so dom yknow, and when he’s soft, he’s the sweetest he’s ever been, but if he’s angry, hard dom Joel comes out and that’s a man you don’t wanna piss off if you wanna cum. He’s got such a daddy kink. “Fuck babygirl/boy, you’re so fucking sweet, sugar. So fucking good for daddy. Yeah baby? You like that? Such a good little girl/boy, so fucking sweet.” Daddy kink is such is a big thing for him. Hair wise? Well it’s the apocalypse so it’s probably hard to find the Manscaper 3000 or whatever. He trims his hair with some scissors, honestly he didn’t really care for shaving before you, so he just let it grow, but once when you were sucking him, you almost sneezed from how much it tickled your nose and made a little joke about it after, which made Joel feel a little bad so he cut them just a little shorter. Oh I’m sorry and did I mention… DADDY KINK!!!

Javier Peña:

(Here I’m purely writing about Javier Pena in a fictional sense AS PEDRO, not the real guy, this has nothing to do with the real Javier Pena)

Okay, Javier, my baby daddy. Um, who said that- ANYWAYS! Javier is probably the second biggest, in joint place with Oberyn, definitely about 7-7.5 inches, as he’s nicknamed by moi, the Pussy Slayer of Medellin. It goes without saying that Javier is rough, as we’ve seen, side note: I don’t know why I thought watching Narcos with my family would be a good idea… I was sat on the couch like “😀 okay, I’m watching Pedro have sex next to my mum, just a normal Saturday morning…” anyways back to it (hehe Negan reference) but Javier is rough, doggy and cowgirl are his favourite positions, but sometimes when he’s feeling a little somber he likes a little missionary. As how domestically-kinky I like my men, I’m a little disappointed that Javier isn’t a committed man, but he does have a tiny 🤏 breeding kink, he defo isn’t a fan of being called daddy, in fact just call him Javi and he’s yours, and he’s dom obviously. “Oh carino, you take my cock so well, you good little whore… fuck… my sweet little angel.” I mean, we’ve all seen his hair, so do we really need address it, that also might genuinely be my fav sex scene in all of cinema history.

Oberyn Martell

Okay, admittedly, I haven’t seen any proper scenes of Oberyn, because I’ve just started GOT, so I have no clue what his character is like apart from being a HUGE BISEXUAL SLUT, so he’s just like me 🤭

Oberyn, tying with Javier, is about 7-7.5 inches, and I feel like his cock is definitely a lot more tan than others, idk why, it’s just an instinct. Defo uncircumcised. His fav positions are definitely cowgirl OH and dude is the literal definition of a pillow prince, again, just like me. Suck his dick, please, just suck his dick. Again, I don’t know how he’s presented in GOT, but I’m like 74% sure he’s dominant? From the clips I’ve seen 🫣 Hair wise, do razors exists in the GOT world? Or does my man just shave himself with a sword.

Javi Gutierrez:

Oh my sweet baby Javi… he’s so kinky. I’m fully convinced he’s into full BDSM, not so much where he has to do it every single time, but maybe like once a month. When I was watching TUWOMT for the first time, when Nick is about to go into the room with all his merch and stuff, I was dead convinced it was gonna be a sex dungeon. There’s no way a man is this sweet and adorable without being into some freaky shit.

Anyway, Javi is about 6.5 inches, with a sweet pink tip and he’s definitely a giver not a taker, don’t get him wrong, he ADORES you with his dick in your mouth, but he prefers to eat you out/suck your dick for hours on end. Oh and he’s a sweet talker, when you guys aren’t being full kinky, he’ll praise you to hours on end, mumbling in your ear how good you are in that sexy accent of his. Is a little bit of a switch, but mostly dominant, soft dom if it’s a normal night but if it’s that special night, only your safe word will pull him out of hard dom space. Definitely the type to overstimulate you in a sweet way “you can take it right sweetheart? Mi amor~ just take my cock nice and good, ahí tienes.” Um, daddy kink for surely, but not like every single night like Joel. But when he’s between your legs, and he’s stimulated you so far into sub space, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, and you’re reaching up for him, babbling how good his cock feels in your hole, he can’t help but coo down at you and praise you so hard. He’s not bald, but his hair isn’t long, just trimmed to the point where it tickles your nose when you suck his cock.

Din Djarin

Okay, so I think it’s canon that Din hasn’t really ever felt human touch, so I feel he’s really inexperienced… but the dude’s got a pretty dick. Like it’s just so… pretty. About 6 inches with a sweet baby pink tip, he’s so sensitive too. He loves head but he really can’t say it, he’s just too embarrassed. I just get the vibe that he’s mostly subby. He tried to be dom once but the poor baby couldn’t handle it all. But then he tried again and he did so good, but it tired him out, so if he’s domming, which is once in a blue moon, he’s going to be soft, maybe even softer than Javi. Mommy/Daddy kink!! “Please, I’m good right? Please, please tell me I’m doing good… you always feel so so good, I love you so much.” Please, he’s so sweet I love him. It’s rare that you guys get off together because of reasons due to his upbringing and stuff so he just likes being taken care of, the sweet boy. Before you, he never really cared for shaving, so when you first strip together, he’s a little nervous about it, and then after that he trims it, quite short.

Marcus Moreno

If anyone says this man is a hard dom they’re just kidding themselves, this man is the sweetest man out there, obviously not as much as Din ofc <3.

Marcus has an obsession with using his hands, making you cum just by fingering you. Then when he’s inside you, he slips his fingers into your mouth, or around your neck, or on your cheek. His dick is about 7 inches, and like everyone else, knows how to use it perfectly. Angel is one of his favourite nicknames to call you. “My perfect Angel, taking my cock so good baby…” whilst hes thrusting into you ever so gently. Would never EVER do it when Missy is around, so quickies before picking Missy up from school are his go to, but he loves the days where his mom can take her out for the day or even a grandma sleepover so he can be with you for hours. You under him, over him, him inside you, his good girl/boy, his good angel. Pleasuring you until you get numb. The armpit hair in the scene of the gif gets me and idk why, I have never had a thing for armpit hair but maybe I’m just really horny, but his hair down there is nice and trimmed, not bald, never bald.

Tim Rock(Hard)Ford

Here we go…

Oh Tim man! I have a teensy 🤏 detective kink so when Pedro played this role it was over for me.

Maybe it’s the greying, like Joel, but I feel like he’s huge, just like Joel. He’s 8 inches, living his best life. But he’s just a tired old man, so when he gets home, please just get on your knees for him, he’ll just lay there, stroking your hair, praising you, telling you how good you suck his cock. Then he’ll bring you up to the bed and return the favour, making sure to always get you to tell him about your day as he does so. Saturday nights are always his favourite time to rail into you, he’s had the whole day off, just resting, watching you walk around, getting him so worked up. He has a domestic kink. So seeing you do chores get him so hard. Loves fucking between your thighs when you’re sleeping because he gets home so late and just needs a little relief, but you look so cute and peaceful while you sleep and because he’s so considerate, he doesn’t wanna wake you. “So good for me baby, so good for daddy, gonna fill you up, you’re not gonna let any of my cum slip out right, gonna keep it all in your tummy, yeah, that’s it, cum for me.” TALKS YOU THROUGH IT!!! Sleeps naked. Not trimmed, not shaved, just grows it out, he’s old so he doesn’t care, it’s not like anyone but you would be seeing him like this anyways.

Dieter Bravo

I love Dieter, he’s so cute.

Not dom, but not sub either, just dom enough to see you break under him but sub enough to whimper and get soooo desperate. Such a huge pillow prince, he loves it when you suck him, especially when you grab his balls and caress them, he cums so quick when that happens. He’s about 6.5 inches, and it loves fast, not as in quickie, but he loves seeing you fall apart as he jackhammers into your hole. When you ride him he gets so sweet, and he can last long, don’t worry, but you just look so pretty on top of him, he can’t help it, please don’t be mad at him. Has a thing for dry humping, especially in the morning when he’s too lazy to move properly. “So good baby, oh yeah, fuck, grind against me just like that, mmmf fuck…” loves to beg and watch you beg, he’s so good to and for you, don’t doubt him ever. He doesn’t shave, he trims it, but he’s so goofy, so once he shaved it into a heart.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javi gutierrez #oberyn martell #din djarin #marcus moreno #tim rockford #dieter bravo #slvtforoldermen

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joshslater · 7 months ago

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Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic.

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," he said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

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a-ikuoliver · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

do something, babe, say something | k. bakugou — k-atsukibakugou

the first time you tell katsuki you love him

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader (no pronouns used) w/c: 2.0k warnings: angst teehee, communication problems, self sacrifice notes: IM SO SORRY THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT ANGST BLAME @t-tomuras jkjkjk i appreciate u for babbling with me about this <3 (also fuck 1989 (tv) for doing this to me, mostly say don't go lmao) crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

katsuki bakugou’s love language was food, he’d never really said the words in his life, not even sure he could configure his harsh tongue into such a soft shape, he always imagined the words coming out garbled and alien. in the months knowing you, he didn’t need to tell you he loved you; it was in the hot, steaming dinners, sweet chopped fruits, in the coffee he’d make when he was getting ready for the gym, and even your glow when he’d bring you snacks he spotted in convenience store windows.

you’d never said the words, but you would feel his adoration everywhere; bathed in yellow candlelight in restaurants, beaming when katsuki gestured at your menu, calloused fingertips pointed at the meal he knew you’d love, even letting you sneak a bite of his own dinner, acting like it didn’t make his heart swell to have you inching so close.

“if you wanted this, you should’ve got one yourself.” he’d grumble, snapping his chopsticks over yours.

“i don't want my own, i want yours.” your smiling lips had his heart fluttering, mumbling a venom-less insult under his breath, sliding you the dessert menu to pick one to share since you were so determined to eat his food, always gruffly denying the waiters if they offered a second plate. he liked it more when you both leaned towards the middle of the table, the intimacy of being so close, so cut off from everyone else in the restaurant, knowing no one there was as in love as he was.

you used to feel it in his kitchen, too, warmed by the stovetop and his proximity. katsuki was never far away when you were cooking, claiming you needed to be supervised after you tried to use his carving knife to chop vegetables, his warm hand on your wrist, sliding the handle out of your hold with the chefs knife in his hand, handing it to you handle first, closing his hand around yours like a coach would in baseball, broad chest to your back, coaching you how to slice the food; his fingertips protecting yours from the blade while he confidently cut everything into perfect, even, slices.

now, you shivered, slamming the fridge door shut, the sound less and less uncommon, but still made him wince, tense shoulders lifting to his ears like a child watching fireworks while you’d leave the machine rocking. it was immature, you knew, to stomp, and huff around the kitchen, hoping you were rubbing a salty pain in his wounds for once instead of your own. your stormy eyes hadn’t met his tired ones yet, staring at the glass that still had remnants of his pre-workout in the bottom, and the cold coffee machine beside it, untouched by him this morning.

eerily silent, you switched it on without a word, pulling a mug down from the high shelf, your movements flowing like his used to; packing, tampering, twisting the handle until it locked, mug beneath to catch the near-scalding espresso. waiting for the coffee, you dumped various items on the counter top, every item landing with a dull thunk that had him cringing.

he pulled on his shoes, peering at you from the corner of his eye to watch you prepare your breakfast messily, food cut into uneven, butchered chunks, nothing like you chopped with his arm around your waist, a smile hidden in your hair. left with nothing to distractedly toy with now, he studies you entirely, the way your limbs drag, your glazed eyes stare at the mangled mess on the cutting board, entranced with bated breath, waiting for him to come tell you as such.

you stayed alone, only pulled from your trance by the sound of the machine to your right beeping.

“are you hungry?” your clipped words cut into the silence like a sword, expertly sharpened by weeks of this tension building; there was no sweet pet name, no gentle adoration, only sharp, jarring words, sounding more like the blond across the room than yourself.

“i ate already.” his voice comes out raspy, scratching painfully at his throat, the lie desperately clawing its way from his lips. his throat closes before he can mutter an apology he didn’t mean; he wasn’t sorry for being a hero, he wasn’t sorry for being number one, he wasn’t sorry for doing what needed to be done. he was just sorry.

he doesn’t flinch hearing you slam your palm on the smooth granite counter, the sound not nearly as painful as spotting the frustrated, angry tears collecting in your eyelashes, that had him recoiling.

“you haven’t eaten with me in weeks.” you haven’t kissed me in a week. you haven’t held me in weeks. you haven’t loved me for weeks. your voice hung in the air, thick with desperation for him to hear you, your unspoken words making his heart pang pathetically in his chest, your clenched fist on the counter squeezing the life from his heart.

your furious gaze is locked on your trembling hands, gripping the counter like you wanted to fracture it apart in your hands, for it to crumble with you, for something to be broken with you. katsuki's mouth is in a tight line, a mirror of your own grimace, when your wild, furious eyes meet his, staring him down, searching his ruby eyes for the truth.

hes silent, choked, impossibly still like you were a delicate bomb seconds away from exploding into minute fragments, never to be put back together the same. his silence making you want to scream at him, to maul him, to tear him apart, to suffocate him until he gave in and fought back.

“just say something, katsuki!” you slam your fist down on the counter, the pain that came hand-in-hand with passion shooting from where your hand connects with the hard granite, nothing compared to the pain twisting your insides, ripping you apart at the atoms.

god does he want to, he wants to cry out, he wants to call you an idiot for thinking he didn’t love you, that he didn’t need you, for thinking he wants to make you miserable instead of wiping your tears, to protect you from this pain. he has to, you’ll heal if he didn’t keep ripping your scars open, leave you bleeding out alone in his bed for the umpteenth time this month.

“what? what do you want me to say?” he sounds exasperated, tired of fighting, sick of empty promises; that he’d try harder to make this work, he’d come home before you fell into a deep sleep in a cold bed, arms wrapped around a pillow that just barely smelt like him, for him to never leave dinner before you could split dessert again, to acknowledge you.

“anything?! say fucking anything!” you throw your hands up, white hot anger coursing through your veins at the indifference on his features.

“i love you!” you try to scream but your voice only shakes, a palm slapping over your mouth to muffle a sob.

he frowns, a muscle twitching in his cheek and his jaw tensing hearing you say it, flowing from your lips with an ease he can’t imagine; your voice is broken, desperate to hear it back, even if it’s only once.

he stays silent, the foreign confession dying on his tongue.

you can’t tear your wet eyes away from him, studying his features like your life depended on it, watching his jaw tick while you waited for him to respond, to passionately yell back at you, to call you a dumbass, to tell you he loved you with the same intensity, too.

you were stuck waiting for him to do something.

you laugh, a watery, joyless laugh, your frantic eyes darting around the ceiling, tight fists at your side, refusing to look in his eyes and find the apathy you couldn’t stand to see.

“tell me not to go, katsuki, say something, say anything right now to make me stay.”

he studies your face, still soft and plump from sleep, his hands itching to cup your soft cheeks in his hands, to swipe his thumbs over your eyes until they’re dry, to hold you to his chest.

“if you walk out that door, i'm not going to be here when you get back.” you’d always been dramatic but something told him you really meant it this time. one misstep and he’d lose you.

“fine.” it’s nothing above a whisper, the same soft voice that used to whisper his adoration in morning light, you tight in his arms, peaceful, happy in his hold instead of grey, lifeless, alone on the kitchen floor.

the man before you looked nothing like the one you fell in love with, his features flat, soft, no sign of his passion or anger, typically flashing garnet eyes dull, lips in a colourless line instead of a snarl, white teeth on display while he yelled. this man was silent, uncaring. indifferent to you.

“that's all you have to say?!” you’re screaming now, hands and eyes frenzied, eyelashes sticky with sleep and tears not yet shed, “i say i love you, and you say nothing?!”

katsuki sighs, twisting his blade inside you with a desolate shrug of his shoulders. couldn’t you see this was because he loves you? because he couldn’t bear to see you cry one more time? because his heart was yours in this life and the next, but he belonged to japan, he might not save everyone in this life, but he’d save you, even if it eviscerated him. so he stays quiet, his body pulling keys from his pocket while his heart shrieks at him to hold you, to pull you close until you felt his heart beating for you, to die here with you, to love you the way you needed him to, to land blow after blow on each and every last wall he’d built up around himself until he could touch you again.

in another life, he’d do whatever it takes. in another life, he’d stay

“please, don’t,” you say when he turns his back on you, his eyes squeezing shut hearing your wavering voice, “katsuki.”

your voice will haunt him, his name off your lips the only thing right in the world, the only thing that could make him believe in a god, someone who made him for you, dreading the day he’d forget the sound of your laughter, the feel of your lips against his, the scent of your skin; dreading the day you’d forget the look of his smile before it was drawn in a tight line, the sound of his voice mumbling sweet nothings, instead of just nothing. katsuki knows it's selfish to hurt you and push and push until you leave, just to cry about losing you, to let you claw at him and sink your nails in to hold him, while he leaves you without a single scratch.

he clenches his jaw so hard, he begins to worry a tooth will break, half hoping one will, maybe the shards biting in his gums enough to distract him from the pain. hot hands grip the doorknob tightly, not daring to say another word, knowing the second his lips parted, a painful sob would fight its way out from his chest.

the door swings shut behind him, latching softly, a sob tearing its way out of you the moment the lock clicks, your body falling to the cold floor of the kitchen, too weak to hold yourself up as your rage at him melted into despair.

the morning sun was already bright, warm, leaves shivering in the breeze, the world going on like his life didn’t just lose all its colour, like he wasn’t going to be stuck in this moment forever. you’d move on one day, you’d forget about this pain, you’d stitch yourself back together, you’d breathe in time with someone else, someone else to split desserts with, someone with time for you, someone better.

the thought of you in a bed warmed by someone else makes his stomach turn, but still he doesn’t turn back, a heavy foot taking a step forward, then another in front of the other, then another, making a silent promise this would be the last time he left you crying.

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

#divider by me #k-atsukibakugou #「mercury writes」#「kat <3」#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader

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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year ago

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Love that facebook reminded me that 4 years ago today I bobbed my hair and immediately regretted it

#i sometimes think about it again because every single person ever told me how cute it looked #but i just haaaated having it that short #i never felt confident with it and my wave pattern made my ends all flicky which looked stupid. it was STUPID #i wouldn’t mind having it kind of short though. like an in between length #right now i have somehow reverted back to looking like a forest person. i haven’t been caring for my hair very well #i’m living in split end city #……oh jesus christ lads i just checked my journal and i haven’t cut my hair at all since JANUARY. what the FUCK #that explains a lot and also confirms that first thing tomorrow morning i will be washing my hair and doing a wet cut over the bathroom sink #i don’t know how much is coming off yet. just.. some. i can afford to lose like a good six inches tbh #(that’s what she said)#anyway lads if you need me i’ll be going back to my knitting #personal

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

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Trailer park Steve AU part 40

part 1 | part 39 | ao3

They're lying on their backs, Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie running absent-minded fingers through Steve's hair. Led Zeppelin plays on low from the radio beside them, and the conversation ebbs and flows in sleepy bursts of disjointed thought. Talking just to talk. Because they like it; because they can.

"...Did you see Wheeler almost eat shit in the paint aisle this morning?"

"We should paint some stars on my ceiling. Make 'em glow in the dark..."

"God, what I would not give for more pizza."

"Who even eats cold pizza?"

Eddie shifts beneath him after a while, sitting up to bounce his legs and get the blood flowing again. With his weight leaned back on his hands, Steve can't help but notice the long line of his torso. Everything on display through the thin undershirt: the smattering of dark ink, the outline of his ribs, the cut of his slim waist. Steve wants to touch him.

"You know," Eddie says, surveying the empty room, the vinyl glinting in the lamp light, "it's really not half bad for a bunch of kids who thought they were gonna be hanging ornaments all day." He knocks his knee against Steve's leg. "I'd say you're well on your way to making this mobile house a mobile home."

Steve snorts at that, and Eddie pinches playfully at his side until the snort turns into a really undignified laugh and Steve rolls in on himself, curling toward Eddie, begging for mercy.

"You want to tell me what brought all this on?" Eddie asks. His voice is quiet and welcoming, eyes sparkling with some gentle offer of reprieve. The first rest stop sign after a hundred mile stretch of empty road.

Steve's mouth works; opens and closes and opens again, like it'll prompt his voice to sound or his brain to figure out the words. He still doesn't know how to explain — the fear, the paranoia, the way this place was starting to cling to him like black mold. "Just..." he shrugs. "Needed it, I guess."

Eddie gives him a long look. Unwavering and piercing; there's more pus in the wound that he's trying to lance, but he doesn't seem interested in drawing blood tonight.

He releases Steve from his gaze and goes back to his casual stretching — rolling his neck, popping his shoulders, shaking out his legs, his ankles, his feet — and then he gasps "Steve!" in a delighted tone that Steve does not care for at all. Usually means he’s about to get teased within an inch of his life.

"Hmm?" Steve lifts his head to look.

Eddie’s wiggling his right foot, drawing attention to the outer edge of his borrowed sock. "Is that a hole I see?"

Steve follows his line of sight, and sure enough, there's the smallest little tear by Eddie's pinky toe. “Oh, fuck off,” Steve rolls his eyes, “you can barely even see that.”

Eddie spreads his toes out wide, making the hole more obvious. "My, my, my,” he tuts, shaking his head with a big, disappointed sigh.

"You're such an asshole,” Steve mutters. Eddie's beaming; Steve flips him off.

"Well congrats, baby boy,” he drawls like a fucking pest, “now you're officially trailer trash."

"Hey!" Steve’s not sure if he likes that. Makes him blush to his ears; makes something sour roll in his gut.

Unfortunately it also kind of makes his dick twitch.

"Oh?" Eddie leers. His eyes dart to Steve's crotch, and then he shifts so he's hovering over Steve with Steve flat on his back, face on fire, pulse kicking hard. A vein throbs in his inner thigh. "Don't worry, Stevie." Eddie bends to nip at his jaw. "I meant it as a compliment."

"How is that a compliment?" Steve wants to sound annoyed. Is annoyed. But Eddie's skimming a light hand up his side, barest pressure that leaves a trail of tingling warmth in its wake, so the words come out more breathy than he intends.

"Because," Eddie whispers. Steve can feel his smile pressed against his skin. Eddie kisses up his jawline until he reaches his ear; mouths at the lobe and sucks it between his teeth, a sharp bite that makes Steve hiss. "All my favorite things are."

Steve bucks under him. "Trash?" he asks, breath catching.

Eddie's tongue traces his ear. "Mhmm."

His hand wanders to the hem of Steve's shirt, worming his fingers underneath, tickling the trail of hair below Steve’s belly button as he explains that all his favorite things are second-hand. Recycled and discarded items he’s restored with loving care.

Steve’s breath goes harsh and ragged, and he tries not to think about how that might apply to him.

Discarded.

Restored.

Favorite.

Maybe even—

He can’t let himself think the word.

—

part 41!

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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pocketjoong · 1 year ago

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❥𓂃𓏧EARLY MORNINGS

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You wake up to find Hongjoong in your studio. What started with you helping Hongjoong, turns into an unexpected confession from the idol himself.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Hongjoong x afab!producer!Reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): friends/co-workers to lovers. idiots in love.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) smut. pwp. use of pet names (princess, love, etc). choking. oral (f!recieveing). orgasm denial. soft joongie. joongie is whipped. lmk if I am missing something. MDNI.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 3.3k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) Happy Hongjoong Day everyone!! I wanted to write something sappy, but I'll just keep it to myself, mostly bc I really don't have the words to express my admiration and love for this precious little human. So, if you enjoy this, please do consider reblogging or leaving feedback! shoutout to @joong-of-gold for beta reading this! TYSM

You awaken to the distant, muffled rumble of thunder, a gentle intrusion on the stillness of your soundproof studio. The first glimmer of awareness reveals the early morning hour, for light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow throughout the room, but the sun is nowhere to be seen. You can also tell that it rained a few minutes back because you can see the wet streaks on the window and the fog that lingers outside.

In the haze between wakefulness and sleep, you realise that you are covered with a jacket that is definitely not yours. Inhaling deeply, you catch the scent of familiar cologne that clings to the soft material. Your gaze shifts, and sure enough, you spot him seated on your chair, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the computer screens. Hongjoong looks beautiful in the soft light of your studio, akin to an angel, as he works on something you’re unable to discern from the couch. You blink away the remnants of sleep, confused as to why Hongjoong is using your studio when he has his own a couple of doors away.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice is a mere whisper in the silence of the studio as you sit up, absentmindedly watching the way his jacket falls and pools onto your lap.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake?” Hongjoong leans back into the chair, his fingers running through his recently dyed hair, which appears somewhat tousled as if he'd been frustratedly tugging at the strands. His hair is a dirty blonde and way shorter than it was when you saw him yesterday morning, a few inches away from being a buzz cut, but it suits him well. But then, you suppose he looks good in all hairstyles. After all, you’re yet to see him in one he’s unable to pull off.

Your curiosity is piqued, and you tilt your head as you regard Hongjoong, noting the fatigue etched across his features. A quick glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s just past five in the morning, prompting you to wonder how long he has been in the building. Given that the last time you checked, the time was before 4 a.m., it dawns on you that he must have entered your studio sometime within the past hour. The realisation that he didn't return to the dorms last night tugs at your heart, and a sigh escapes at the thought as worry for him grips your heart.

“Sorry for barging in unannounced,” Hongjoong begins, his voice carrying slight remorse. “I was working on something, but then I got stuck. I thought being here would provide some inspiration... But..." He trails off, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. As he begins to rise up from your chair, you quickly shake your head to signal him to remain seated.

"Just," you reply with a sigh, pushing yourself off the couch and stretching, wincing at the satisfying crack of your joints. "Lemme freshen up and get some caffeine into my system. Would you like some?"

Hongjoong politely declines with a shake of his head, already returning his attention to the screens. “It’s fine. I had a cup about twenty minutes ago.”

“Mmhkay,” you mumble as you exit the studio to wash up. Upon your return, you feel notably more alert, though you're confident that a cup of strong coffee will definitely help you more. You search the closet for the coffee grounds, tiptoeing to reach the packet.

“You know, you look…” Hongjoong’s voice trails off, his gaze sweeping over your figure as though he's searching for a gentler way to phrase his thoughts. You've barely managed an hour of sleep in the past 48 hours, and you’re sure exhaustion has taken its toll.

“Like a mess?” You interject with a wry chuckle, playfully finishing his sentence while switching on the coffee machine.

“Nah, you're too pretty for that,” he smirks, causing you to roll your eyes in response, even though his words send a delightful pang through your heart. “But you look like you haven’t been getting much sleep, which is surprising since you were in dreamland when I arrived.”

“That's because I haven’t,” you admit, watching the coffee streaming into the cup you've placed beneath the machine. You hum happily when the smell of coffee permeates the room, making you relax further. “If you don't count the one-hour nap I managed after finishing that video call.”

"Video call?" Hongjoong echoes, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yeah, there's this American band that's eager to collaborate on a track with me, so we were hashing out the details until the wee hours, around four a.m.,” you explain, picking up the cup of coffee and turning to look at Hongjoong, who now appears to be deeply engrossed in the contents on the computer screen. “You sure you don't want some coffee, Joong-ah?”

"Mhmm, I’m good," he responds, brows furrowed as his attention is momentarily diverted by your offer.

You nod, even though he can’t see it and take a sip from the cup, savouring the rejuvenating warmth. It breathes life back into your tired form, revitalising you in a matter of moments. Crossing the studio, you lean against the wall, observing as Hongjoong plays with the sounds.

You both share a quiet moment, with Hongjoong immersed in his work and you taking intermittent sips of your coffee. In the silence of the studio, your thoughts drift back to the day Eden introduced the two of you. Despite being Hongjoong's age, you had already earned a degree in music production and established a modest reputation in both the Korean and Western music scenes. Eden had recognised your talent and had been quick to scout you, asking if you'd like to work for KQ. It was an appealing proposition, one that offered you the flexibility to pursue personal projects without forfeiting your earnings from outside ventures. So you had agreed without any hesitation.

Not long after, the older man introduced you to Hongjoong. You had already heard of him, the sole trainee at KQ for several months, eager to delve into the realm of music production. So, Eden entrusted you with the task of guiding Hongjoong’s musical journey since you had a professional degree. Although you were initially hesitant, circumstances conspired, and over time, a strong friendship blossomed between the two of you.

“So,” you begin, finally setting down your half-empty cup of coffee on the cabinet on noticing Hongjoong’s visible frustration. “What's got you all worked up?”

“I want to remix a track for the new album,” he replies, gesturing toward the computer screen in a state of vexation. “I had this vision when Eden hyung told me about it, but nothing seems to click.”

“Can I see what you’ve done so far?” You inquire, moving closer to lean over his shoulder, regarding the screen with pursed lips. You hold out your hand, requesting for the headphones. When Hongjoong doesn't immediately pass them to you, you turn to face him, only to find him peering at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression inscrutable. In a sudden, surprising move, he pulls you onto his lap, eliciting an involuntary squeak from you and a hearty laugh from the mischievous idol.

“Sorry, love,” he says, though there is a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. “It'll be easier for both of us this way.”

He removes the headphones from around his neck and allows you to wear them before pressing play. As the music fills your ears, you’re acutely aware of Hongjoong’s arms encircling your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. Despite the delightful distraction, you focus your attention on the remixes he's crafted thus far. It becomes evident why he's been wrestling with frustration; each track seems to lack the spark that’s needed for them to stand out.

“Did you have any other ideas?” you ask, swallowing hard as he nonchalantly shrugs while still entwined with you. His movement causes his chest to press against your back, and you can’t help but be flustered. You knew that he had been working out, but actually feeling his defined muscles beneath his shirt is a different sensation.

“Not really,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear as he responds.

“Hmm,” you hum, doing a run-through of ATEEZ’s songs and attempting to conceive something more fitting while nestled against the group's leader. The endeavour turns out to be a more difficult enterprise than you initially anticipated. But you won’t complain; after all, he isn’t one to indulge in casual skinship, so you attribute it to sheer exhaustion and his mounting irritation. “I don't know if you've considered this... but there might be something that could work. Remember the beats I shared with you last week?”

“Do you mean this one?” he responds by humming a fragment of the track you had shared with him. With his chin still resting on your shoulder, his lips linger perilously close to your ear. You muster every ounce of restraint not to shiver pleasantly at his honey voice. “I had thought about it initially, but I didn’t want to use it without asking you.”

“Allow me to give it a try. I’m not entirely convinced either,” you assert, clearing your throat as you carefully get off Hongjoong’s lap. Retrieving your coffee mug, you lift it to your lips for a sip to regain your composure. Yet, in the very next moment, Hongjoong deftly snatches the mug from your grasp and takes a sip himself, letting out a light chuckle as your eyes widen in astonishment. You could swear you catch a whisper of “so cute” slipping from his lips under his breath, but you can’t be entirely certain, as he surely wouldn’t utter such words about you. Or would he?

Opting to dive into work, you retrieve the laptop and settle onto the couch, immersing yourself in the process. Lost in the task at hand, you’re completely unaware of Hongjoong’s intense gaze on you. It is only after you have a basic idea ready that you glance up and freeze. Shifting awkwardly in your seat for a brief moment, you bite your lips before patting the vacant space beside you on the couch. Silently, you press play as he takes his place by your side, watching him curiously as he focuses on the music filling the room.

“Wow,” Hongjoong breathes when he's done listening to the raw remix you’ve created. It's nothing extraordinary, merely an attempt to know if you’re going in the right direction, but the way his eyes sparkle as he looks at you tells you that you’ve struck gold. Before you know it, his lips are lightly grazing your cheek in a tender kiss, his proximity allowing his nose to gently brush against your skin.

It should alarm you, how quickly you’re melting into his touch, so easily giving into him. This feels inappropriate; you're coworkers first, friends second, and you're uncertain about the ethical implications, considering you both work for the same company. But as he nuzzles into your cheek, all rational thoughts fly out of the window.

“Damn it, Y/N,” you shiver at the rawness in his voice. “You're so cruel. How am I supposed to contain my feelings for you when every time I convince myself I'm content with just being your friend, you do something like this, and I'm head over heels for you all over again?”

“Hongjoong,” Your voice is breathy, and the way you say his name with a gasp almost sounds like a prayer.

He swears, drawing you closer and gazing into your eyes with an intense longing that leaves you wordless, “Don't say my name like that if you don’t want me to kiss you senseless.”

“Who's stopping you?” You whisper, fisting the front of his shirt in your hands, desperately searching for something to ground yourself.

Eagerly, he closes the distance, lips meeting yours with an ardour that takes you by surprise. He nips at your bottom lip, and you feel your resolve crumble. You allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth. As he pulls you onto his lap, you straddle him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, drawing him closer. Abruptly, Hongjoong breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes, closing his eyes when you shake your head. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Joong,” you murmur, cradling his face between your hands, your lips finding his jaw. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’d planned on asking you out on a date first, to be honest.”

You giggle at both the unexpected confession and his endearing hesitance, causing him to pout in response. You understand where he’s coming from; he’s usually steadfast, not easily swayed by desire or impulse, but it appears that his usual unwavering patience is slowly unravelling.

“We can do that later, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Although, if you're not comfortable going further, we can stop.”

Hongjoong shakes his head, his lips finding yours once more in a slow, sensual kiss. “I want you,” he mumbles between each lingering kiss. “I always have.”

His words elicit a whimper from you, and you grind your hips against him, causing the denim of his jeans to rub deliciously against your aching clit. Gasping at the contact, you meet his gaze, finding his lips swollen and rosy from your kiss, his pupils dilated with desire. The next moment, he pulls away from you and eagerly tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You giggle at his eagerness, “Greedy, are we?”

Hongjoong smirks and leans down to press his lips against the top of your chest, murmuring, “Only for you, my love.”

A quiet moan escapes your lips as your hands find their way into his dishevelled, dirty blonde locks, tugging just hard enough to coax a groan from him. Hongjoong retaliates by sinking his teeth into your neck, biting down gently before withdrawing. When you practically melt into him, he smirks teasingly, “You like that, princess? Want more?”

You nod, gasping as one of his hands darts to your back, skillfully snapping open your bra. His other hand slips to your throat, exerting gentle pressure, almost experimentally, just enough to encourage a deeper breath.

“Mmm. Not like that, doll. Use your words,” Hongjoong pulls away fully, allowing you to see the smouldering desire in his eyes, a sight that sends your head spinning. It takes you a moment to find your voice, long enough for him to caress your cheek with one finger, prompting you to close your eyes. “Don’t leave me hanging, Y/N.”

Your eyelids flutter open, and you gaze at him with a sultry intensity. “I want you to touch me.”

A sly grin curves his lips as he leans in, nipping your lower lip provocatively. “See, now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it, princess?”

You let out a whine as his thumbs rub over your breasts, teasingly tracing patterns. He lowers his head to suck on the skin around your nipple, his lips leaving faint marks. Hongjoong’s mouth is warm and wet, and every time his tongue brushes over your sensitive flesh, your body arches up against his in yearning. When his teeth graze over the tender area, you can’t help but grind against his pulsing erection, desperately needing friction against your clit. “Joong, please.”

“I’ll make you cum, princess. I promise,” he says, offering an innocent smile that contradicts the desire blazing in his eyes.

You're on the verge of delivering a clever retort, but any semblance of wit vanishes when his fingers push your panties aside and plunge into your heat. Your mouth falls agape as his skilled fingertips find the sweet spot deep inside of you, making your toes curl. A primal need stirs within you, and you roll your hips to meet his fingers, and it’s not much later that your legs begin to tremble. You’re close, so close, but just as you're on the cusp of ecstasy, Hongjoong yanks his fingers back, causing you to let out a desperate sob.

He hushes you softly with a soft kiss, his lips a tender apology, “Just a bit more, princess. Can you hold on for a bit longer for me?”

As Hongjoong gently eases you down on the sofa, you notice that he’s still dressed. You pout, tugging at the edge of his shirt, “Joong… off, please?”

“Patience, my dear. I promised I’ll make you cum, didn’t I?” He moves off the couch, pulling you closer to him to spread your folds.

“Fuck—” You arch off the couch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips the second his lips close around your throbbing clit. One of his hands keeps your legs pressed to the side, not allowing you to close them. For what feels like an eternity, he keeps you pinned, fucking you with his tongue and fingers but never allowing the release you so desperately seek. You’re a sobbing, sensitive mess by the time he pulls away for what seems like the hundredth time and sweetly wipes away your tears. It’s not until you hear the crinkling of a condom wrapper that you realise Hongjoong is kneeling on the couch, already undressed and ready.

“You did so well, princess,” he smiles warmly, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly, your voice almost desperate as you implore him, “Please… Joong, yes.”

He takes his time as he eases into your folds, knowing that you’re sensitive and you’re grateful for his consideration. Once he’s fully inside of you, he withdraws slowly, repeating the motion with a gentleness that leaves you breathless. Your nails dig into his shoulders, pulling him to you as you yearn to be as close to him as possible.

“Y/N, my love.” Hongjoong coaxes your eyes open gently, his eyes filled with concern. “Loosen up, please. I won’t be able to move otherwise.”

Taking a shaky breath, you relax, prompting him to smile. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

He slowly works up a rhythm, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel your high approaching. Sensing that you’re close, his warm fingers close around your throat to apply just the right amount of pressure. You clench around him in response, making him moan, deep and loud, as his eyes roll back.

“That’s it, princess,” he whispers, his hands trailing down to rub at your clit while he thrusts in and out slowly. His eyes draw shut as he revels in the sounds of your moans, your words unclear as you gasp out his name. “Will you cum for me, Y/N? Hm?”

You finally snap, your body feeling like fire as you succumb to pleasure. Hongjoong grabs you to keep you still. “You feel incredible, princess.,” he gasps, voice laced with desire. “You’re so good for me.”

All the sensations are too much for him, and he curses, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sounds of both of your moans before Hongjoong collapses on top of you, showering affectionate kisses on your face and neck.

For a brief moment, neither of you utters a word, still caught in the hazy aftermath. Your legs feel like jelly, and you’re still a bit woozy, so you simply watch as Hongjoong eases back. He ties off the condom and drops it into the trash can near the door, dressing quickly. Then, he returns to you with damp tissues that he borrowed from your cupboard. “Are you okay, love? Feeling sore?” He inquires, concern evident in his gentle voice.

“A little, but it was absolutely worth it. I knew you had it in you,” you tease, playfully winking at him, and both of you share a tired yet content chuckle.

“Good,” he responds with a warm smile, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Do you need anything?”

“Cuddles?” You pout, gazing up at Hongjoong.

“Anything my princess wants, she gets.”

#cromernet #k-labels #wonderlandnet #kvanity #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut

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