#its finally fucking colored and it looks crazy

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I never really thought about the long lasting torment of Spock thinking he's killed Jim until reading K'oh-nar by AlexPrime. If you like to see Spock in absolute agony, you should read K'oh-nar.

[ricky-mortis]

A portrait of Sir John Herschel because I‘m normal about Pulp Musicals

[megacarapa]

Post Isaac Asagiri when they least expect it

I LOVE YOU I CANT COMMENT RN BUT IM POSTING IT CAUSE I KNOW YOU NEED IT FOR UR DAILY GEN STREAK AVDJSKJFKLF

-edit like 4 hours later-

leon i dont mean to be dramatic but this drawing is so fucking beautiful im eating it right now

i could have just wrote a nice comment and leave it at that but i literally felt so compelled to color this guy that i waited to get home then immediately sat down and colored him SURPRISE ISAAC ASAGIRI UNO REVERSE CARD

THANK YOU FOR THE BEAUTIFUL DRAWING ILL CHERISH IT :AUUUUUUUU:

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

I don't mean to suck my own dick but since my face got tan from the sun, I look adorable

The darker color is somehow hiding how deep set my eyes are and so it highlights the eye fat

All I need are side bangs and I'll look like a princess

[softaestluv]

Nine Lives

Simon Riley posts an ad for a stray cat he does not want and you answer.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! Reader

Tags: fluff, short n’ sweet, eventual romance/smut

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 4 Pt. 5, last part | ao3 | mlist✎ᝰ.ᐟ

It has to be some form of trauma. A hallucination. A dream. Anything but that stupid fawn-colored cat outside his door.

Scratching. Meowing. Terrorizing him.

He ignores it for as long as he possibly will. Turns the volume of his TV up, washes clothes to drown out the sound, pretends for a while longer that he doesn’t know what’s waiting for him just outside his wooden door. That it doesn’t have a tail and four legs.

But he can’t push it away forever, he’s a man for fucks sake. He doesn’t flee and cower in the face of a threat. A small one at that, curled on his skull mat, waiting for the moment he accepts his fate and opens his damn door. A hostage in his own home.

So, he cracks his door open— just a smidge.

Looks to see if the animal is really there or if the voices, cats, inside his head are playing a cruel joke on him. And sure enough, there it is, licking its paws leisurely as if it fucking belongs there.

A part of him had been hoping he was going crazy, that he was just imagining the high-pitched meow. He could deal with crazy, preferred it actually.

What he couldn’t deal with was the cat outside who seemed convinced he was its home. He’s grateful he hasn’t deleted your contact yet, for multiple reasons now.

It’s easy to ignore the cat, even easier to shut his door in its face, deny it access to his home. Now, as he remembers the events of last week, he thinks he should bring it inside. He’s not entirely fond of the idea, but he’s even less fond of roaming the neighborhood for a second time for the cat.

This is how he finds himself staring at it with a scrutinizing squint and crossed arms on his kitchen counter. It stretches, two front legs reaching out while its hind raises in the air. Simon has to ignore the fact that it’s dirty paws are on his kitchen counter and that it’s fur doesn’t fly in the air as it shimmies itself into a sitting position. He’ll have to bleach the spot and purge the area of any remnants of the pest.

The cat doesn’t seem to sense his aversion because it just stares back, slowly blinking, tail whipping behind it like it’s happy, content. Staring affectionately at him like he hasn’t spent the last several months doing everything in his power to get rid of it.

When you arrive, he begrudgingly takes it into his arms, opens the door to an anxious smile and more fuzzy socks. He dangles it between the two of you with both hands around its torso.

You squeal at the sight, “Churro! What are you doing here, huh? It’s a long distance, pretty lady! It must have been a very dangerous adventure.”

Simon watches you talk to the cat like it can understand you, watches the way your brows pinch, and a small frown forms on your lips in actual concern for its safety. It’s confusing that you would care so deeply for such a thing, but it makes the corners of his lips twitch.

Churro just meows, rubbing her nose and forehead against your cheek. This makes you coo, smiling gently at her, pressing your cheek against hers in turn.

You haven’t even turned your focus to him for a second, no ‘thank you for watching the demon,’ no ‘hi, how are you?’ Just more kisses and sugar-spun words to your precious kitty.

“Was the big scary man mean to you?” You ask, staring at it with beady eyes, “Did he call you the devil again?”

Oh really, cat lady? That’s how it’s going to be? He supposes teasing is better than you being terrified of him.

He scoffs, “Did no such thing.”

You finally look at him, giggling softly as you pull Churro back against your chest, “I’m sure you were nothing but generous to her.”

“I was. Treated the damn thing like royalty.” He grumbles because he was. Carried it into his home even though he wanted to do the complete opposite just so you could have your bloody cat back. And all he has to show for it is you ignoring him for the likes of the cat.

“Well,” You say, nodding your head, “I’m sorry you had to deal with her again. I left her inside before leaving for work, I’m not sure how she managed to get out.”

That was the first time it happened, and of course, it wasn’t the last. Nothing seemed that way with ‘Churro’ because the following week she made her appearance at his house again.

It became a routine. Once a week Churro made her way over to Simon’s like she was visiting him, Simon messaged you— ‘The demon is here.’

Sat Churro on his counter and watched her with pinpointed eyes while he waited. Then you arrived shortly with snuggles and apologies. A new explanation each time; you closed all the windows, checked twice, even locked them! Same with your doors, there was no way for her to get out, but somehow she always managed to escape.

Simon didn’t entirely mind the whole ordeal. Didn’t mind you, quite frankly, he liked opening his door to Tasman slippers, a glimmer in your eyes, and a soft noise of excitement. Pretended as if it was because of seeing him and not the stupid cat in his hands.

Except somewhere along the lines, Simon’s hatred for Churro morphed into something else completely. Ignoring her for as long as he could turned into letting her in after the first scratch. A glowering scowl shifted to furrowed brows. Crossed arms and balled fists became relaxed and loosened at his side. Helicopter supervision simmered into free access, let Churro roam his house while they waited for you.

That wasn’t to say he liked the damn cat because he didn’t. Tolerated her at most. For you, at least.

Irritation still burnt his lungs when he watched you coddle her, when you ignored him as you took her into your arms and rocked her back and forth, when you cuddled her close to your chest and hummed tender words to her instead of him.

Simon wasn’t exactly sure what it was or what it meant. Not when he deprived himself of anything of the sort, thought he had buried it six feet under and sealed it with a cross. But that was the thing, he couldn’t exactly mourn the loss of something when he hadn’t fully committed to severing it of himself completely, held on to it with a thin thread.

It became painfully apparent when he texted you not to come to pick up Churro one day; it was pouring rain, storming, and as much as he didn’t want to have the damn cat overnight, he’d much rather keep you from being stuck in a storm. Still, he opened the door to drenched clothes, shaking fingers, and chattering teeth. His temples pinched, ushering you inside instantly.

Maybe he shouldn’t care, shouldn’t invite you inside, but he does anyways.

“Bird,” He sighed, “Told you to stay home.”

“I know,” You shivered, petting Churro with a wet palm, “But I felt guilty. I know you don’t want Churro here and we’re just inconveniencing you.”

“Not an inconvenience, I don’t mind doing it for you,” He grumbled, “Stay right here. You’re not going back until the storm stops.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, mouth parting slightly, but he doesn’t give you time to respond, leaving you standing there in shock before bringing back dry clothes for you, a black sweater, and gray sweats.

“Here,” He grunted, handing you the clothes, “You can change in my bathroom.”

“Oh no! It’s okay, I can just go home,” You argued, attempting to push the clothes back in his grasp.

Simon levels you with a sharp look, makes you pull the clothes to your chest because he won’t take no as an answer for your safety.

“Okay, yeah,” You nod your head, “Yeah.”

He makes tea on the stove while waiting for you, Churro jumps on the counter in the meantime, with a soft chirp, plopping her way over to rub her body against his forearm.

“Oy, be careful,” He chastises, pushing her away, “Stove’s bloody hot.”

“So you do care about her!”

Simon turns around to find you standing in the doorway of his kitchen. There’s a smug look on your face, but he doesn’t focus on that, can’t focus on anything other than how you look in his clothes. You swim in the material, sweater sleeves hiding your hands completely, sweats pooling at your sock-clad feet. He has to pinch the inside of his cheek to hide his smile at the sight.

It’s cute. Endearing. Makes his teeth ache in his mouth, fingers twitching against the pot on the stove in a strangely possessive way. He doesn’t even care that he’s been caught caring for the damn pest when something warms curls in his chest.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lies.

You laugh, padding your way over to his side, “Oh, whatever. Now I know why she keeps coming over here to see you.”

“And why’s that? I can’t for the life of me figure out why she won’t stop botherin’ me.”

“Maybe she has a crush on you,” You joke, cupping Churro’s face in your palms, “Huh, pretty lady? Do you have a crush on the big scary man?”

He snorts, “Not likely.”

You lean towards him as he hands you a cup of tea, “Maybe she thinks you’re her dad.”

Simon stares at you a little dumbfounded, watches you turn to talk to Churro again, asking if she thinks Simon is her dad. He tries to submerge the overwhelming feeling underwater, drown it, and wash away the insinuation, but it’s almost impossible when you’re adorned in his clothes, oversized fabric hanging off your smaller frame.

Excuses himself by clearing his throat, throwing your soaked clothes in the dryer to distract himself from the drowning.

The storm lasts for a little while, so you sit on his couch with Churro curled in your lap, purring quietly to sleep. Simon tries to scavenge a meal for you, but he doesn’t have much in his fridge, wishes this was planned, so he could cook you something worth eating. You don’t mind, shushing him when he apologizes with an assortment of snacks on a tray, giggling softly at his poor attempt to feed you.

“It’s okay,” You reassure, smiling pleased at him, “I’m not really hungry anyways. Next time we can prepare more.”

Yeah, next time.

When the storm relents, the two of you are preoccupied, finishing a movie you wanted to watch. Some rom-com, he doesn’t entirely know, can’t focus much when he’s sitting next to you on his couch. There’s a measly cushion separating the two of you, sitting on either end of the couch, but it still claws at the back of his mind no matter how much he tries to rationalize it.

In his home. Sat on his couch. Wearing his clothes.

He tries not to be greedy, claim you as his own, but it only gets worse when you pull your feet up, leaning your head against the back of the cushion, snuggling deeper into his couch, and making yourself comfortable. He’s sure you don’t even realize that the storm ended or when you turn towards him and ask if he liked the movie.

He doesn’t mind that you stayed after the rain stopped, doesn’t even mind that Churro made her way to his lap halfway through the rom-com. You don’t point it out either, just flicker your eyes with a knowing smile.

Did he like the movie? He honestly can’t recall a single line.

@lighthousebats @cococococ @sai-int @tessakate @starboykel @imrandomstuffsblog @your-internet-tenshi @glossy01 @orangegreensun @uriahs-barn @ye-olde-trash-panda @akkahelenaa

thank you to my sweet @bunnybeaches for the cat name ‘Churro.’ 🐇🤍

[shouyuus]

OMG just had this idea where during the fight with Vander maybe Vi gets bit by him and it turns her into this half-werewolf half-human type thing (i’d say she still looks pretty much human, in comparison to Vander)

anyway, she has side affects all month long such as better hearing, vision, increased sense of smell, etc. but during the full moon is when she goes crazy with this extreme need to breed you/fuck you

18+, mdni, this is debauchery

the wound is not a big one, not compared to the ones that she's suffered in the past. but the one it carves in her heart takes much longer to heal -- warwick, they'd called him. she'd always know him as her dad.

and it seems that her fists and her steely attitude aren't the only things he'll leave her with.

at first, she thinks it's just the sickness -- the fevered dreams that came to her right after -- the heat that had bitten into her skin and refused to leave. she thought she'd imagined the high itch that had pressed against her very bones, the way she could smell... everything. she could hear everything.

you fuss over her, because of course you do. and she loves you, and gods, the only thing that seems to sooth her burning skin is the cool of your hands as you press them to the sides of her face.

"ah... the fever's not going down -- but the medicine should be kicking in by now --" you bite your lips and vi groans, licking her own. her mouth is so dry.

"c'mere..." she tugs you down to kiss you, and your surprised squeak is muffled against her cracked mouth. it takes barely a second for you to soften into her, and the moment your mouth slips open for her, the thrumming, pulsing want that had been coiling deep in her belly becomes a dark, urgent need.

"v-vi --!" you startle as she yanks you into the bed with her, your palms so lovely and cool, pressed to the hot skin of her chest.

"don't need medicine," she murmurs, trailing her lips along the column of your throat, "just need you."

and she knows before she fully says all the words that its true. because even saying them out loud sates a sweet, growling part of her that feels like urges and bared lips and teeth.

you let out a hitched whine as vi paws at your clothes, nearly tearing them from you, the pitched humming in her ears urging her forward as she swallows around the maddening need to feel your bare skin against hers -- beneath hers. she groans at the friction, finally, when it comes.

"f-fuck --" vi swears, sinking her teeth into the bare parenthetical of your shoulder. her lips pull away wet, and she pants, fingers digging into the plush of your hips. she groans, the sound deep and rumbling in her chest -- it's a sound that she's not certain she's ever made before, but the change it wrights over your body is instantaneous. you shudder, lashes fluttering as you gasp, arching into her, your spine bending so beautifully beneath her that her vision nearly goes white.

"fuck," she repeats, hissing the word with her nose pressed into the hollow of your throat. the world smears into pops of color, the pale of the moon pouring thick and cool through your window, the dark of your lashes, the red rings of her teeth against on your neck. fuck, fuck, fuck --

"v-violet -- violet -- oh!"

she barely registers the world closing in as she finds her fingers slotted between your thighs; her lungs fill with the scent of you, the thick, sweet musk that radiates from you. her mouth waters at the shine of slick on her fingers as she pulls them back.

"oh... pretty girl," she coos, pressing them back between your legs to sink them into your throbbing cunt, curling them up, thumbing at your clit till you're keening, reaching down to scrabble at her wrist with a weak hand. "you're so.... wet for me..." she mutters, almost to herself, the dull rushing gathering behind her ears as she watches, mesmerized, at the sight of her own fingers disappearing into you over and over and over.

"violet -- i --"

she hums, dropping her forehead onto your chest just to steady herself over you as she pushes a third finger into you, nearly losing herself in the way you stretch open for you, the way you slicken impossibly over her, clenching down till her fingers feel almost numb, the scent of you so strong it fills her head like smoke.

"fuck -- just wanna fuck you -- fuck you till you're full of me --" she says, and she doesn't quite know where the words are coming from, only knows that it gives her inexplicable pleasure -- the thought of filling you up with her, in some shape, way, or form. her fingers, her tongue -- her spit, her cum --

she hisses as she feels you convulse over her, your body trembling as your orgasm crashes through you, and she notes, faintly, she can smell the salt crystalizing on your cheeks. it takes her another few moments for her to realize that it means you're crying.

"oh -- oh princess --" she slows her pace, but you shake your head, panting, your chest heaving, tear-tracks streaking down your cheeks into our hair as you reach up to cup her face with a shaking hand.

"i-if you need to u-use me -- you can --" you swallow around a hiccup as she curls her fingers, bullying two of them against your g-spot, if only to watch your lashes flutter, "y-you can."

"yeah, sweet girl?" vi asks, her own breathing shaky as she digs her nose into your jugular, slotting her hips between yours, fumbling with the waistband of her boxers, tossing them aside to slot her own wet cunt against yours with a thick groan.

"gonna let me use you till i'm satisfied?" she asks, rutting down over you, a strange, wolfish hunger yawning open inside her, something like a wound or a gaping cavern, dark and echoing.

your answering keen makes her whole head spin, and then she's fucking you, rocking her hips over yours, lifting one of your legs till it's slung haphazardly over her shoulder, your slick clit catching hers as she imagines fucking her own cum into you with her fingers.

just the thought alone is enough to drive her over the edge, her cumming hard and messy against you, groaning and sinking her teeth into your already bruised shoulder, her tongue laving over the divots after, though she can't quite get over how much she likes the smell of her smeared across your skin.

she forces her hand between your bodies and sinks three fingers into you without preamble, hissing at how easily you take her in now, your pussy warm and welcoming, so slick with your cum and hers that it's the easiest thing in the word to slip in a fourth finger. your breath hitches at the extra stretch, but it's nothing to head-rush vi feels she methodically works her own cum into you.

and the most logical part of her knows, she knows that it's not quite possible for her to breed you, not in the most traditional sense of the word, but something about it still makes her feel just a bit feral. something about the motion of it, of knowing that there's something of hers inside you, that the room smells like sex -- yours and hers, spit and skin and ecstasy, that sates the rumbling, roiling heat sizzling inside her.

it quiets the thumping urge, slakes the rambling thirst.

she fucks you slow then, rolling her hips in tandem with her fingers, groaning soft as she watches you with soft eyes. you reach down to lace your fingers with her free hand and she leans down to kiss you. it's open-mouthed and wanting, but it's sweet nonetheless.

outside, the clouds hang fat and low beneath a harvest-moon sky.

"vi...?" you ask, looking up at her from moon-soaked lashes.

"hm?"

you lick your lips, "d-did that make you feel better?"

she nods, chuckling, "sure did, pretty girl."

you let out a tiny laugh as well, one that twists into a moan as vi pulls her fingers from you and presses them to your mouth. you let your jaw slacken around them, lick around the tangy essence of you and watch as vi's eyes blow midnight-dark. the air slicks taffy-sweet and butter-thick.

"gonna let me do it again?" she asks, puffing out a breath as she ruts her cunt against yours. you whimper, nodding, your head jolting back into the pillow at the friction, your oversensitive clit already throbbing in protest, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"y-yeah -- as... as many times..." you swallow around a half-drawn breath, "as you need."

vi grins, tracing a delicate finger down your cheek till she fits her hand around the circumference of your throat and squeezes, just the tiniest bit. her eyes follow the butterfly-wing flicker of your pulse as it jumps beneath her palm.

the beast caught inside her cage of ribs growls its approval.

she rocks down over you once more, the movement harsher, and deeper. you only close your eyes and moan.

"that's a good girl," she murmurs, dropping a kiss to our cheek, letting her lips trail along your skin to skim the lobe of your ear and she whispers --

"gonna let me breed you properly, hm? be good for me and take all my cum, yeah, pretty girl?"

you whine. the sound shoots straight to her clit as she fucks down over you again, reaching down to tease at your puffy pussy lips.

and in a voice that's both reverent and broken, you seal her fate in one fell swoop --

"y-yes vi -- please."

[talon-dragonbeast]

weird rules, social expectations and Being A Woman

you know, something that really pisses me off about Society (tm) is how normativity is just so mindlessly, happily rewarded, even by the most tolerant of people. specifically (but not exclusively) regarding to gender expression.

i am a woman. i was born a woman, i live as a woman, i am perceived as a woman, and i even identify as a woman. ill admit i also have some gender fuckery going on in here, but my internal identity is, frankly, nobodys business; im happy to be assumed a woman, because i honestly dont care how others perceive me in this regard. but. this doesnt mean that i am happy to do the whole nonsense routine that is required to be considered a Real Woman by almost everyone in this god darn planet. i dont do makeup, i dont like to style my hair, i mostly stopped shaving, and you couldnt pay me to care about clothes.

my mother is always telling me about how pretty i am. growing up, i heard it all the time. you have such beautiful curls, if i had hair like yours i would let it grow a lot longer (thanks, i like it shorter tho). im so jealous of your eyes, they are so blue! (haha yeah, i was born with them). i bet this dress would look so pretty on you, why do you never wear skirts? (they just make me uncomfortable, i like my own clothes anyways). if you wore makeup more often you would look so much more beautiful (i like how my face looks, thanks). you should shave your legs, they look bad like that (you never tell [brother] to shave his legs).

it is infuriating. i hate it so, so much. i am a woman, not a doll to play dress up with. and if i have to pretend to be a human, the least that society could do is to just let me exist in peace! it drives me crazy that all this is even expected. worst part, it is fucking Everywhere.

this christmas one of my cousins got me a new pencil case. it is pink and green, and has some cats and snakes and bugs and moons drawn on it. it is beautiful, and although i wasnt too thrilled about the color, i figured it was cool so i began using it. one of my friends saw me take it out during class, said oooo [name], thats so pretty! and gave me a Look. i dont know how to explain it without sounding crazy, but i swear it was like she was saying, so now you like Woman Stuff! you know what Look im talking about, right? when you finally cave in and do the feminine thing, and its like everyone is so happy that youre finally filling your expected role in life. it is weird as hell. i dont like it.

but like, this is my friend, who supports me being aroace and autistic and IS BISEXUAL HERSELF! something something, leftism leaving peoples bodies when a gender non-conforming person does something that is stereotypically associated with their gender. idk, its a bit like dog training when you think about it for a second. in animal training (and i mean proper animal training, not beating your dog until it stops barking), good behavior should be rewarded, while bad behavior is supposed to be ignored so the animal learns to only do the good behavior. you do the feminine thing, and you get smiles and compliments; you stop doing it, then suddenly gender presentation doesnt matter. and this... training behavior is, of course, mostly unconscious, with its perpetrators unaware that theyre even doing it. if i asked my friend what she meant by that, she would say that she didnt mean anything, she just liked the case. if i asked my mother why do i have to shave while my brother doesnt, she would say that its just how things are.

its just how things are. its how it always has been. its how it always will be. so just shut up, smile, and pretend it isnt happening. pretend youre not being trained like a dog to salivate at the sound of a bell. it doesnt matter, it isnt happening, so why bother thinking about it? dont think about it. stop thinking about it.

[twmz-03]

Caleb who sees you and Zayne fucking and cant get it out of his head…

MDNI 18+ ONLYYYY !!!!

so i tried to make this a header to give yall some visual… credits to whoever made it. I got it from pinterest.

-Start-

You go to zayne for your doctors appointment and caleb was supposed to pick you up. You had told him to wait in the car and so he did… until he got curious as to why you were taking so long. Its just a quick check up isnt it ??

So caleb… so curious, goes inside and asks the receptionist “hey! Its me again. Just gonna go chat with zayne.” She smiles at him and points towards his office.

Caleb then walks to zaynes office but as he reaches for the handle, he hears noises. At first he couldnt believe what he was hearing. Shocked and disgusted but jealous wishing it was him. The moans got louder as zayne was hitting that spot so good and deep.

Your somewhat loud moans calling out his name made caleb feel angry. Theres no way zayne is doing this in broad daylight AND to one of his patients. He lingers a while hearing your beautiful noises of pleasure suddenly feeling that hes getting hard.

Quickly realizing this situation he has going on in his pants, he goes back to his car in a rush. Caleb slams the car door shut panting, and his face blushed. All he can think about is how he could probably make you feel wayyyy better than him. He knew zayne was a good looking guy but come onnnnnn!!!!

Finally after 15 minutes pass you come back to the car, get in and open the passengers side mirror. You look at yourself fixing your hair and applying more lip color before talking to caleb.

“Took you long enough.” He says in a somewhat irritated tone. You look at him with an eyebrow raised hoping he doesnt find out why you took a long time. “Yeah… I just had to do some exams and talk about my charts real quick…” he gives you a suspicious look before turning facing back to the front before driving off back home.

Since caleb was staying at your place in linkon you let him stay in the living room since you didnt have an extra room. Which meant while you were cozy sleeping good after having a good time today, caleb was slowlyyyy going crazy. Still thinking about what he heard today. “Ugh that damn zayne.” He says before turning to lay on his back.

He thought about how zaynes hands were probably touching every beautiful curve of yours and how your pretty breasts were so close to him and how your wet cunt took him. He then feels hes getting a hard on. He quickly gets up and goes to the bathroom and locks the door.

He finally slouches against the wall before unbuckling his pants and taking out his long hard cock before stroking it a few times. Cum barely leaking out just thinking of you and your scrumptious pussy he wishes he could be eating.

His hand goes faster up and down his length until he gets needy and desperate to finish and starts thrusting into his fist, coming all over his hands. He pants and whimpers feeling so helpless but so good imagining you.

“I dont know about you zayne, but youre not going to be the only one fucking her..” he says quietly to himself.

-End-

So guys i hope this lived up to your expectations. I wrote one fanfic head canon and disappeared for a month. 🥲 I remember saying how i didnt know much abt caleb but after grinding to complete the story line, i love him so muchhhhh!!! Hes so cute and adorable and literally straight up bf material! ❣️

Ive also been trying so hard to get the new spring cards and so far ive only gotten Xavier. Im still happy abt it though. Especially since im f2p. 🥹

I thought abt this the other day and was like hmm not bad. Anyways, if you have any suggestions, please leave a requestttt!!!!

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Paring Eddie Munson x Reader 

Summary In the wake of a storm, you seek out Eddie because he gives the best hugs and may be the only person in Hawkins who has the answers you need [fluff, 2.1k]

A/N Eddie didn’t come back wrong. Not in the way you’re thinking, at least. But he does hear things from time to time…

The sweet scent of wet earth lingers inescapably as you pedal, bike wheels whirring softly as they weave around potholes filled with rain. The familiar stillness that follows every storm has settled over Hawkins. Cool droplets fall from tree branches onto your skin, contrasting the warm fall air. With the wind at your face, the heaviness in your chest begins to lift as you travel further from home. 

When you arrive, rain drips from the Forest Hills entrance sign. The old, chipped wood has survived years of vandalism and wear. Puddles of water have collected on the gravel road, and colorful toys have sunken into muddy portions of front yards. The closer you get to Eddie’s trailer, the more you hear muffled music permeating from within the four walls. 

The lights are on, visible through the curtains. It isn’t until you’re close enough to dismount your ride that you realize you’re hearing Ozzy Osbourne. Eddie’s voice passionately joins in as the chorus circles back around, a smile pulling at your lips as you rest your bike against his trailer. 

The moment you knock on the door, he quiets. There’s brief shuffling, then purposeful footsteps until he’s finally swinging it open. The way his eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you is comical. A guitar solo pours out to greet you as well. 

His curly hair is pulled back in a low, messy bun and a black pair of pajama pants ride his hips. Every time you see him, there seem to be more designs inked across his pale skin. They’re down his arms, splayed across his chest. The dragon was your favorite of them all. Snaked along the side of his rib cage with its mouth bared, shielding a splotch of scars. 

“You’re goin’ off the rails, huh?” There’s a playful lilt to your voice as you quote the lyrics back to him, tilting your head. 

His cheeks flush as he opens the door wider for you, your perfume wafting as you walk in. “Every day of my life—fuck me, I can’t believe you heard all that,” he groans, running a hand down his face. 

After shutting the door, he turns off the stereo. You sigh as you toe off your vans and take a relaxed look around the small space. With Crazy Train having come to an end, you can hear the TV quietly droning about the possibility of more rain. 

For as much as there was that changed in the world, this place seldom did. With its warm lamplight and eternal coziness. The air smelled of pine, underscored with smoke. Even the mug shelves and baseball caps hanging on the walls have stood the test of time. 

When your eyes meet again, he offers a boyish grin that settles under your skin. “Wasn’t expecting your pretty face today.” He tucks some wispy flyaways behind his ears. 

“Sorry I didn’t call first,” you say. “I just needed to get out of the house...needed to see you.” Eddie doesn’t miss the brief shadow that flickers in your eyes, as though another thought is protesting from a cage in the back of your mind. 

As much as he’s tempted, he doesn’t coax it out. “Nothing wrong with a good ol’ change of scenery.” He lifts his brows in that charming way of his. “Not that this is the Four Seasons or anything—” 

Before he knows it, your arms are around him. A hum vibrates through his chest as you tuck your nose into the warmth of his skin. As he hugs you in return, the remaining tension melts right from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. Once he’s sure you’re feeling better, he starts rocking from side to side until your smile slips through. 

You try to pull away, but he only squeezes tighter. “Eddie,” you whine through a giddy laugh. 

“Nope, you’ve gotta commit now,” he quips. “I don’t make the rules, angel.” Hearing that, you relax into him, exhaling at the playfulness and familiarity of his embrace. 

“How do you do it?” You murmur into him like he’s some sort of magic. 

He smooths his palm up your back, gently massaging at the base of your neck. “Do what?” 

“Make everything better,” you whisper, feeling the rest of your worries dissolve under his touch. 

A weak chuckle rumbles through his chest as he pulls back to look at you. The honesty in your eyes makes him feel like he’s an imposter. Like he’s somehow got you fooled. “I don’t know about everything...” 

Life has been different since the Upside Down. There were scars from that day that were never going to fade, engraved beyond skin deep. It was the voices from before, the rumors and taunts, that made him feel like he was that same punk teenager who corrupted everything he touched. Like being himself was innately wrong. 

It was hard to believe that someone like you genuinely enjoyed his company, found him helpful, thought he was good. But he was getting better about it because he didn’t make it this far for those old voices to hold the same power. These days, new voices echoed around him, not confined to memories but strikingly real, intimately near. Never unkind, just disembodied and drifting through the in-between. 

They didn’t scare him anymore. He learned when to listen and when to tune them out. Something was bound to follow after he crawled his way back to the land of the living. Nevertheless, he’s grateful for a second chance at life. If things had ended any differently, he never would’ve seen how much better things could get—or cross paths with you. 

You think for a moment before speaking up again, “Then we’ll agree to disagree.” 

Eddie takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb, eyes flitting over your face in awe. You grow shy under his gaze, and that’s when he leans in to kiss you, his plush lips soft and slow. A satisfied sound rises in your throat as you trail your hands along his waist, feeling the different textures of his scarred skin beneath your fingertips. 

Caught up in the warmth of your mouth and the pleasant stirring in his gut, he doesn’t feel you pull the elastic from his hair, letting it cascade down over his shoulders. However, he smiles at the feeling of your fingertips gently scratching his scalp. 

“I got something for you,” he eventually whispers, pecking your lips one last time before heading to his bedroom. 

Butterflies dance in your stomach as you trail after him, toying with the hem of your shirt. You take a seat on the foot of his bed, watching him saunter to his nightstand, humming under his breath. Your eyes drift to the dagger tattooed between his shoulder blades, the blade descending a short way down his spine. 

“Close your eyes,” he instructs, turning back around with something hidden behind his back. Eddie snickers as he approaches, your eyes adorably shut. It’s a contagious sound. The bed dips as he takes a seat, his thigh pressing against yours. 

He taps your nose with something soft, prompting you to open your eyes. 

It’s a small stuffed ghost with two black buttons for eyes, and an even smaller one for a mouth. You’re quiet as you take it from him, thoughtfully turning it over in your hands. Shaped like a comma, it has two adorable arms raised up from the sides. Faint stitching is visible along the perimeter like it was homemade. Eddie shifts and scratches the back of his neck, unsure how to interpret your silence.

A smile finally breaks across your face. “He’s adorable. Where’d you get him?” 

Eddie runs a relieved hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna believe me, but Wayne and I went to visit Ruth in the nursing home the other day. You remember her? The lady who used to live a couple trailers down.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “They happened to be having one of those activity days where someone comes in to lead a craft or whatever…“

“And you stayed?”

He kisses your cheek. “Bingo.” Then his voice grows fond. “All I could think about was making one for you.”

Warmth spreads throughout your chest. “I’m gonna name him Ghostie.“

The distant sound of a car door shutting makes you jump and look towards the window. Eddie almost laughs, but stops himself at the way your shoulders slump in dejection. Like you’re upset at yourself for reacting.  

He leans in, talking carefully, “You alright?” You shake your head in dismissal, but his attentiveness doubles down. “Talk to me, Goose.” 

The reference makes you smile, and you nudge him for it. “I’ve just been a little on edge.” There’s something else you want to add, but don’t. Eddie’s ready to prod it out this time around, but you’re quick to tap his nose with the stuffed ghost. “I might just be going off the rails like you and Ozzy.” 

He huffs an amused breath. “Not gonna let that go, huh?” 

“Never.” 

•••

The rain starts back up again. Slowly, before pattering down harsher against the roof. By then, you’ve already eaten dinner and settled on the couch for Beetlejuice, the sun long set. Eddie’s arm rests over your shoulders as you lay asleep in his lap, Ghostie tucked into the crook of your elbow. He had a feeling things would end up this way.

When he shakes with a chuckle at yet another wacky scene, you stir. He doesn’t realize until you shift with a soft hum. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he practically coos, squeezing your shoulder. 

“How dare you laugh and be amused.” Your voice is soft and groggy in that way he adores.

“I know, I’m awful,” he agrees with feigned gravity. “Gotta go turn myself in. Tell the kids I love them.” You snort as you sit up, snuggling into his side with Ghostie in your lap. 

The lights flicker as a strong gust of wind blows outside. A concerned furrow forms between his brows at the way you gasp and stiffen. This jumpiness is unlike you. He rubs your arm in hopes of loosening you up, but darkness promptly envelopes the room. You can hardly see aside from mere outlines. 

The sides of the trailer creak as the wind continues, a bit fiercer than before. Eddie curses under his breath at the inconvenience, while you’ve grown even more rigid and silent. There’s a false glimmer of hope when the lights briefly flicker, but darkness soon prevails again.

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures, pulling you closer. “Wind’s just disturbing the lines. They’ll be back on in a second.” The lights flicker before dying out again. 

Tears well in your eyes. Your voice wavers as you speak, “Eddie?” 

“I’m here,” he assures. “I’ll go grab a flash—”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” 

Now it's his turn to still. It’s not a foreign question, not by a longshot. It’s one that was peppered throughout his childhood, and always returned in the later half of every year when the nights began to grow a little longer. It’s the sound of your voice that sets it apart this time around. You’re not seeking an answer for fun or on a whim. You’re searching for a second opinion. Deep down you knew, out of every other soul in Hawkins, he’d have one to give. No one came back from the Upside Down without a few ties that lingered. 

He’s quiet for a while, the sound of wind and rain filling the space between you. 

“It’s not a matter of belief,” he finally says, swallowing hard. “If something’s real—God, Satan, ghosts, whatever…” he pauses. “It’ll keep existing whether you believe it does or not.” 

“So do you think…are ghosts real?” He can’t see your attentiveness, but he can hear it. 

He chuckles humorlessly, blindly taking your hand in his so you know he’s not making fun of you or messing around. 

The two of you start talking at the same time, “I—” 

“Can feel them,” you breathe. “At my house. It started a few days ago after you left.” 

Like he may have left them behind.

The lights stutter back on as the TV bursts back to life, somehow picking right back up. Eddie reaches for the remote and turns it off, his finger lingering on the button. When his attention settles back on you, there’s a sense of disbelief in his dark eyes, like he’s looking into a mirror for the first time in a while. 

“Feel them?” he slowly repeats, searching your gaze for more. 

“Hear their voices... like soft whispers,” you continue. “So I know they’re real.” 

There’s a thoughtful beat of silence.

“Me too.” 

- 

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

MORE

[hazbinwhoree]

General Adam Headcanons

SFW

100% dresses like Adam Sandler under the robe

Pronounces bruh like “brah” unironically

Has a high body count, but not as high as you’d expect

He has abandonment issues cause of Lilith and Eve

He’d never admit it but losing both Lilith and Eve to Lucifer really fucked him up

Lilith left him for Lucifer, and Eve cheated on him with Lucifer

Due to knowing the pain of being cheated on, he will never cheat despite the fuckboy persona

Man can actually settle down with the right person

Wears his mask all the fucking time, he only takes it off to sleep

He thinks it makes him look badass and his favorite feature is the horns

He’s tall as fuck (6’5) but he’s kind of thin, so he wears a big ass robe to make up for it

You can only tell by his arms

He likes to appear big

His favorite thing about himself is his dick (surprise)

Listens to heavy metal

Can’t cook for shit

Needs therapy but will never accept therapy

Doesn’t realize how misogynistic he is and if you tried to tell him he would get defensive

“What, I fucking love women, they’re hot.”

Says “nuh uh”

Cried in front of Lute once– they never talk about it

Shockingly, he doesn’t have any STD’s and he’s very proud of that

Sees Lute as a best friend but he’d never let her know she means that much to him

Has a colorful vocabulary of cuss words and unique nicknames, ie “Danger Tits”

Is really good at coming up with unique insults too

Never get into banter with him, he will hurt your feelings

Sleeps like a rock but moves a lot in his sleep

Seriously, he’ll hit every position in one night

His band is actually really popular in Heaven, and he’s renowned for being the best guitarist

Of course, that only strokes his ego

Ego bigger than his dick, for real

But if you can get past his ego, he can be fun to be around

Touch starved

Cares for very few people, but he would die for the people he does care about

NSFW

Absolutely has a size kink

He’s tall and he loves to be able to look down at his partner

It makes him feel powerful, but he also finds it cute

Has tried every sex position possible but his favorite is missionary

Rarely does he do missionary however because he only likes it with someone he cares about

Phenomal at giving head

He has a long tongue and he knows his way around a vagina

Actually has a big dick, he’s not kidding

Like no wonder he walks around like he’s a god

Also has a virginity kink and it’s definately related to his abandonment issues but he’ll never address that

Whenever he has sex, he always goes for a round 2 in the shower

Actually hates being called things like “daddy” and “master”

While he has some kinks, he’s actually not a very kinky guy

But he’s down to try anything

Has been pegged, doesn’t prefer it

His third and final kink is a breeding kink

He has no idea why but its imperative that he finishes inside his partner

Messy, loves being feral in the bedroom

The kind of guy who’s gone right after a hookup

But if he has a partner, he insists on cuddling after sex

Perfers tits over ass

Will bury his face in his partner’s while they cuddle

One time he came from looking at himself in a mirror during a hookup

Eye contact goes crazy with a partner

Needs to see partner’s every reaction and expression

Also needs control the whole time

Will never sub again, he hated it

[ryes-brownies08]

hi luv! im craving for a fluffy date of sungchan x male reader who are so down bad for each other! can u write it for me pls??

ily bby, xo [sungchan x male reader]

“God,” Sungchan chuckled, deep in conversation with the guy he’d realised he loved all too dearly. “You’re a hot mess.” “You’re odd as fuck, too.” M/n laughed, the boys drowning in one another’s laughter.

˙⋆✮ genre: FLUFF ˙⋆✮ roles: top! sungchan, bttm! mreader ˙⋆✮ word count: 3.7k words

Synopsis: Sungchan and M/n have been attracted to each other for a while, and now that they're finally on a date, they begin to realise how much they truly like each other. Sungchans composed masculinity paired harmoniously with M/n's adaptable friendliness, and the two go wherever life takes them as they thoroughly enjoy one anothers company on a late night date.

WARNINGS + TAGS: affection, dating, kinda sappy, swearing, insensitive at times, sunchan loves soccer!!, high school, kissing, holding hands, depictions of any irl character here does not reflect who they are irl this work is purely fictional, etc

M/n and Sungchan walked out of the shopping center hand in hand, the sound of laughter and the warmth of a whole heart following them. M/n cradled a pastel pinkish-blue soccer ball in his arm, a prize he won from a claw machine, whilst Sungchan gracefully nibbled on a cupcake besides him, colorful sprinkles occasionally getting stuck to his lips.

“That’s why I don’t go to arcades anymore. I had no idea, what was I supposed to do?” M/n chuckled, playfully swinging Sungchans arms to the same rhythm of his head as it gently bounced side to side. Sungchan smiled as M/n lead the conversation, purely happy to listen to him talk.

“That’s crazy. I wouldn’t have seen you at school for a century, huh?” Sungchan responded restfully, turning to look at his date. As he did, M/n took note of Sungchan's kind, deep-set almond eyes that he loved ever so, watching as his lips spread to either side of his face in an elegant, observant smile.

“Realistically, no.” M/n laughed, returning his gaze to stare at the ground as they walked, which was a little habit of his that Sungchan loved.

The two had a crush on each other for a while. At school, neither M/n nor Sungchan sat with the same group of people, but just so they could talk to each other, interacted with each other’s respective friend groups. M/n was an individual who only showed his liveliness to people he trusted, and the athletic Sungchan was a part of a popular but not impolite friend group.

Despite their differences, their attraction to each other was strong. So they took a chance, and before they knew it, became a thing.

The two of them discovered they both had a liking for similar things, although their customary penchants could sometimes be quite different. But that’s just what made them all the more beautiful.

For their date tonight, they set out to wander a shopping centre together until the sky turned a brooding black, and a million stars floated brilliantly in its embrace; they both loved the serenity of the night.

As the two walked out the front gate of the shopping center, they were hit with the pleasantly cold breeze of the night. The outside was surrounded by floral bushes and majestic trees, and the orange lighting from above created a vibey, nocturnal atmosphere as they walked upon the cobblestone pathway. Sungchan was feeling the cold a bit more than he was prepared for, wearing only a white tee shirt that was tucked into his pair of blue denims. M/n, wearing a brown striped sweater and cargo pants, noticed and decided to offer his long beige coat to Sungchan.

“You’re gonna become paler than you already are,” M/n said, nudging at Sungchan’s shoulders as he looked up at him. “Take this back. I’m overheating anyways.”

“Are you sure?” Sungchan asked. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Can’t have you freezing, can I?.” M/n smiled softly, looking up at his date. M/n took pride in his height of 5’10, but Sungchan made M/n feel short, standing at 6’1.

“M/n, I mean it,” Sungchan said, despite the cold noticeably getting to him. “You don’t have to-”

“Sung.” M/n interrupted, eyebrows raised in a way that read ‘don’t try me, my precious loser.’

“Alright, my bad.” Sungchan laughed. “Never been terrorized to wear a coat before.” He muttered, knowing M/n would hear. M/n didn’t care though, softly smiling as he admired the man infront of him.

Sungchan’s face was attractively long and oval-shaped, his jawline clean but not aggressively sharp, alongside a bigger and structured nose that rested above relatively full and kissable lips. But despite the sheer perfection of his visual, that wasn’t what M/n was necessarily looking at.

M/n was rather entranced by the way Sungchans biceps flexed with every movement, his chest straining against his white tee, leaving little to the imagination. But what M/n was most hypnotized by, was how Sungchan focused intensely on whatever he had in his arms, in this case, the coat. His movements were so deliberate and calculated, ensuring the coat was put on smoothly, and M/n couldn’t help but take it out of all appropriate context. M/n mentally slapped himself, not wanting to ruin this innocent date; he was simply taking notes for the future. A heat began rising in his cheeks. One day, he would be the thing Sungchan would examine every corner of, and there wouldn’t be any clothes to-

“M/n?” Sungchan called out, snapping M/n out of his trance.

“Y-Yeah? Sorry, zoned out.” M/n responded, chuckling sheepishly.

“Are you cold? Your cheeks and nose are all reddened up.” Sungchan asked. Fuck, already? M/n didn’t expect the heat to show through his (S/c) skin that quickly.

“Really?” M/n asked, using his hands to feel the temperature of his face. It didn’t feel so hot, so he wondered how prominent the blush was for Sungchan to have noticed it. All M/n really felt was a slight stubble, which he needed to shave before it became anything noticeable. “Hold on…” M/n reached for his phone, trying to visually examine the degree of redness of his face.

“Wait, don’t move.” Sungchan spoke softly, hyperfixated on M/n’s face as he began stepping closer to him. M/n remained still, like he was asked to.

M/n was slightly unnerved as he observed Sungchan gently touching up his hair. It made M/n wonder if he had something on his face. Was it a cut? Or a bug? M/n became a bit worried. Then, he noticed as Sungchan's hyperfocused face slowly morphed into an enamoured expression. A leafy rustling crinkled against M/n’s ears, and when he opened up his camera, M/n saw that there wasn’t, infact, any blush.

Instead, there was a flower that Sungchan had placed in the nook of M/n’s ear. M/n let out an amused sigh, realising he was on edge for nothing, but he did make sure to offer Sungchan a look of playful indignance.

“What? You look cute. I had to.” He smiled, eyes forming half-cresents as his lips spread to either side of his face, his expression too loveable to refuse.

“You had me so confused; I was scared.” M/n said, chuckling as the two began to walk again.

“You’re scared of roses?” Sungchan smiled, as calmly mischievous as only he could be.

“Wha- No?- Well, you picked it from a random bush!” M/n protested.

“All roses come from bushes, my love.” Sungchan responded. His adaptable composure was something M/n loved, unless he was getting clocked.

Before long, the two had been walking together for an unknowable amount of time, their harmonious company making time go by only too quickly. The roads were empty, the only sound being the laughter of the two, or the rustling of the nearby trees every now and then.

“God,” Sungchan chuckled, deep in conversation with the guy he’d realised he loved all too dearly. “You’re a hot mess.”

“You’re odd as fuck, too.” M/n laughed, the boys drowning in one another’s laughter. “Remember when we had biology, and you stood like an NPC and zoned the fuck out?” M/n spoke in between chuckles, too busy cracking up at the memory.

“Oh my god, shut up..!” Sungchan cringed at the memory, grinning ear to ear and shaking his head in regret.

“The teacher couldn’t even…” M/n trailed off, wheezing. The thought was just so funny.

Everyone got up to go to their tables and conduct an experiment, whilst Sungchan had a brainfart, and just stood there, zoned out in the middle of the class. The teacher tried to ask what was wrong, but he was too caught up in his head to respond. Not only was it awkward, it was pindrop silent. It took a few minutes for him to snap out of his trance, and he ran to his table, face reddened like a tomato through his pale skin. His group of boys didn’t let him live that one down, and invited M/n and his group to joke about it once they caught onto the fact that Sungchan liked him.

Sungchan gave M/n a playful nudge, watching as he almost stumbled in the darkness of the night, eventually needing to pause there and take a break from laughing his ass off.

As M/n fumbled, the pinkish blue soccer ball fell out of his hands, rolling over to a relatively tall black fence. Beyond it was an open soccer field, illuminated by a single large sports floodlight in the far corner. M/n picked up the ball, and turned to see Sungchan, who gasped and became struck with excitement. This was one of the many sides to Sungchan’s generally reserved personality that M/n was eager to explore. His 4D personality was a beautiful, well-crafted mystery that M/n was excited to unveil.

“Oh my god! M/n, we have to get in!” Sungchan leaned against the moderately tall fence, eyes wide in a boyish eagerness.

“What? We can’t go in there, it’s closed!” M/n replied.

"Well, no one's gonna catch us." Sungchan said.

"They might." M/n suggested.

Between the two, neither were troublesome, even at school, but Sungchan was a likeable rule-breaker. He and his friends would always fuck around every now and then, and though they didn't do anything too extreme, you could still roll your eyes at it.

"Not at 8:37pm in the night!" Sungchan said, turning to M/n as his eyes became glossy and his eyebrows were knit together in a pleading expression. He was no longer asking for permission. He placed a foot against the black plastic fence, rising above the ground before throwing the other leg over it so that he was sitting on top of it. He looked back down to M/n, who hadn't moved yet.

"C'mon, M/n! It'll be fun." He said, patting the top of the fence as his eyebrows bucked upwards, daring M/n to come. Remembering Sungchan's love for soccer, M/n couldn't say no. He'd just have to get dragged into trouble again and hope he'd never get caught. Sungchan extended a hand, as he knew M/n wasn't a daredevil (or rather that M/n was lame and couldn't even climb a fence).

With a yelp, M/n hesitantly set a foot on the fence, using the pull of Sungchan's arm as an advantageous leverage. M/n tried to distract himself from the rebellious nature of the moment by focusing on Sungchan's strong arms, and how they moved him around so easily. Then again, M/n had to ensure he didn't turn this cute little date into something not so appropriate.

"Good boy." Sungchan teased, causing M/n to raise a clenched fist as an empty threat. With a flinch and a hitched laugh, Sungchan jumped off the fence and landed with a thud in an athletic, graceful squat.

M/n followed after, thumping on the floor disgracefully despite using the fence as a means to come down, slipping and falling on his side.

"Cute." Sungchan remarked. M/n didn't know what was so cute about that, though; seeing the person you'd potentially want to love not be able to climb. If anything, it was a sign that M/n would suck in an apocalypse, presumably being the first to die unless Sungchan came to save him.

M/n didn't know how, but Sungchan already had the ball, doing a cool little trick where he kicked it upwards and used his one leg to keep it from touching the floor. He clearly looked like a natural.

When M/n caught up to him, he smiled at him wholeheartedly. It was clear he loved M/n and appreciated the gesture to do this despite not wanting to. "What's up, cutie?" He spoke, his voice flattering M/n and surely evoking an upcoming blush.

Deflecting, M/n interjected. "So, am I just gonna sit on the bleachers and watch you play?"

"Well, you don't have to watch if you're bored. You can use your phone." Sungchan shrugged.

"Hey, don't be ridiculous. I'll watch you. This is your chance to impress me." M/n smiled, taking the ball from Sungchan's embrace.

It was clear that Sungchan preferred if M/n watched, because like a child, his mouth grew into a excited smile, eyes sparking with possibility. "Yeah..?" He spoke somewhat breathily.

"Yeah! Matter of fact..." M/n said, holding the ball over his head with intents to throw it. Not even a split-second into the movement, Sungchan already got ready, eyes wide and creasing with glee as his lips spread open in an exhilarated smile. When M/n tossed it in a measly, unathletic throw despites his best efforts, Sungchan began to sprint right after it, racing towards the goal with a laser-focus.

"Go Kylie, go! You're doing great, sweetie!" M/n yelled out, and heard Sungchan chuckling from the distance as he played.

M/n took a seat on the bleachers, and it was just incredible to see Sungchan dominate the open fields as he showed off his skills, doing cute little tricks where he bounced the ball between his legs or did an airborne kick. It was impressive and M/n realised that he'd wanted to see him play more often.

M/n watched as Sungchan darted around the goal with the ball, a talent M/n hadn't really seen in full bloom before. He knew he had an interest for soccer and sport, but didn't realise how proficient he actually was; it was incredible. The way he chased the ball with not only precision and skill, but a burning sense of passion. This was where Sungchan wanted to be at, and his body was aligned perfectly with his heart in that very moment.

After a few goals and incredible tricks, Sungchan looked to M/n, catching a breath as he smiled warmly, allbeit exasperatedly. M/n smiled at him back. "You're doing great, sweetie!" He yelled out, referencing that Kylie Jenner meme again, causing Sungchan to hunch over, using his knees for support as he laughed.

"Why don't you come and play?" Sungchan asked from the distance.

"Me? Girl, I can't play for shit." M/n chuckled, yelling back.

"I'll go easy on you!" Sungchan laughed, holding his arms out in invitation.

"Promise?" M/n said, offering it a bit of thought before cautiously coming down from his seat on the bleachers.

"I promise." Sungchan said, hand on either one of his hips as he waited for M/n. He raised a hand out, opening and clasping it to indicate that he wanted M/n to come and play.

M/n walked down, Sungchan looking at him with a loving gaze. It was clear to M/n that Sungchan ended up enjoying this moment alot, appreciating what M/n was doing for him. That was a good thing; perfect, actually.

"Alright, so what am I doing?" M/n asked, looking at his date with a somewhat nervous, but nevertheless happy smile.

"You just go stand near the goal, and I'll try to score." Sungchan responded.

"I'll never win that! You're too good!" M/n chuckled, gasping indignantly.

"I'll go easy. You can do it, trust me." Sungchan said, smiling. "Why don't I show you?" He said, stepping away from the goal with his ball.

"You ready?" He called out after maintaining a sizeable distance. M/n gave him a sheepish nod in return. Without as much impact as he was using previously, Sungchan kicked the ball so that it began rolling over to M/n and he had a moment to intercept. M/n stepped forward to connect his feet to the ball, stopping it in it's tracks. It wasn't impressive at all, but M/n was thoroughly impressed with himself.

"Just like that!" Sungchan called out, smiling. "Now pass it back, and I'll show you some real skills."

"Go ahead. I'm the soccer baddie himself. Complete with a BBL." M/n said, leaning on one hip in an attempt to serve cunt, eliciting a laugh from Sungchan.

"C'mon, don't change yourself. Besides, your ass is a skinny queen." Sungchan spoke back, cringing at the latter part of his sentence. "Was that good or should I just stick to my own slang'?"

M/n chuckled. Sungchan had pretty boyish, masculine humour compared to M/n's somewhat more feminine persona, which was another difference between the two that he loved. It went to prove that there was no set standard for a relationship of any kind. "Not bad; you slayed, or as you would call it, cooked."

"Well, I'll do both in a second. Think fast!" Sungchan said, his foot taking off from the ground as he struck the ball with fury, M/n ducking helplessly as it hit the net of the goal behind him.

"Hey, not fair!" M/n chuckled, the two entangled in a lighthearted moment of wholeheartedness. He kicked the ball back, and Sungchan began to control it with his swift feet. He was like a rabbit, the way he hopped and ran with the ball, so M/n would have to become the fox.

"Catch this!" Sungchan took another shot, but ended up hitting the top bar of the goal, watching as it bounced back.

"Ha!" M/n yelled in defiance as he held his hands out in an 'L' shape.

"You got lucky, just wait!" Sungchan huffed, fog forming with every breath out of his mouth against the cold air.

This little adventure of the theirs together felt wistfully short, but at the same time pleasantly elongated, and neither of them wanted it to end. Sungchan was absolutely besting the hell out of M/n, but M/n was determined to show him who was boss. Just cause M/n wasn't athletic, didn't mean he had to let that define him at all (it did, M/n just wanted to look remotely impressive for Sungchan).

A familiar thud echoed through the field as Sungchan kicked the pinkish-blue ball, a symbol of M/n's potential defeat against Sungchan if nothing was done. The ball was calling out to M/n, daring him to block it; that very thud was an indicator that M/n had the choice to fight or fly, to defend his point or succumb to Sungchan's reign of ferocity.

M/n squatted, his body loose and anticipating, ready for the move as the ball approached. And as if everything happened in slow motion, the ball flew towards the corner of the net, sure to have hit it; but not if M/n had anything to say about it.

He sprung to the side, both arms reaching outwards as if to create a great iron wall, impenetrable by a mere pastel ball, and unphased against Sungchan's power. With a moist thump, the ball ricocheted off from his hands, sent away in a thrust of humiliation and defeat, rolling over as it grovelled pitifully at the feet of Sungchan. It surrendered, it's halt acting as a silent proclamation of defeat against M/n's defence. The ball was powerless. M/n had won.

He had won! Sungchan raised his arms up, whooping for his date. "Fuck yeah! Awesome, M/n!"

M/n gasped, picking himself up off the ground. It took him a second, but he began to smile and laugh too. Sungchan ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him around, causing M/n to let out a giddy yelp. M/n felt Sungchan's strong arms around his waist, his honest smile at even M/n's tunnel vision victory a silent message that he'd support him forever. M/n felt a thrill through his chest, both from the cold air and the fear of being off the ground. But there was something else, too.

Love. An intense love for Sungchan.

Eventually, Sungchan set him down, and the two were caught lost in each other's eyes, despite panting and beginning to sweat. Sungchan stared deep into M/n's (E/c) eyes as they looked up to him with a docile, amiable light, and found himself marvelling at how the floodlight's shine subtly reflected in his alluring (S/c) skin. M/n returned the look to Sungchan, looking up at the youthful yet sophisticatedly elegant man before him, his gaze towards M/n as loving as it was intense.

Without a word, before the two knew it, they leaned in closer and closer, until their lips met in a loving, warm kiss. The soft sound of smooching englufed either of the two, as their hearts began to beat to a harmonious rhythm. This was their first kiss ever, and they wanted it bad for a while now. Sungchan's hands grasped M/n's waist in a respectful, but affectionate manner, as M/n put his hands on Sungchan's shoulders, holding him close.

Maybe the kiss was too sudden, maybe they were just acting out of teenage impulse. But, boy, did it feel electric.

Etiquette and time wasn't a consideration to the two in that moment; they were beyond that. Their hearts aligned in a way that would make the stars in the night sky that they loved so much shine eternally brighter.

When they parted, they took a moment to open their eyes, their faces still only inches apart. Fog escaped at their lips given the temperature of the night, and it's as if they were breathing each other in as they slowly broke into two soft smiles.

"M/n. I think I really like you." Sungchan spoke in a low, vulnerable, but nevertheless genuine tone.

"Sung... I don't know what to say..." M/n blushed, his eyes deerlike as they looked up at him, all flustered. He felt the same, and Sungchan knew it. He just got shy.

"Whatever feels right, baby." Sungchan smiled warmly, making sure not to rush him.

"Well, I think I like you too. A lot." M/n said, trying to overcome his nerves. "And I think that I really like it when you call me baby." He said softly, as his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

Sungchan chuckled, the breath from his nose tickling M/n's cheeks. "You're so cute when you're shy." He noted, a blush rising to his own face.

"Aw, Sung.." M/n smacked his lips, getting shyer. There was a comfortable silence as Sungchan examined M/n, who looked away in diffidence.

"Can I... kiss you again?" He asked, his voice low and loving.

M/n turned his head back to face him slowly, a full-fledged blush now on his face. Sungchan noticed how the flower was still there on the side of M/n's head, the same shade of red M/n's nose and cheeks were.

M/n tried to respond, but he couldn't, and his mouth just hung ajar. It was so cute to Sungchan. M/n let out a chuckle, embarrassed at himself. Instead, he offered an eager nod, before speaking under his breath, almost inaudibly. "Yes.."

Sungchan smiled softly, and didn't waste a second after that, meeting M/n's soft lips in a pleasant moment of warmth and love.

The two stood like that for a bit, just melting into each other. After today, was there really anything else they needed?

[pazzispizookies]

— — Guarded — —

Hey y’all!!1 Please give live reacts and feedback!!! It inspires me to keep writing if I know that people like it. I love you guys and thank you for reading!!

Pairing: Paige x Azzi

Paige could’ve guessed a few people that could walk onto her team but Azzi fucking Fudd was not one of them.

I mean she was from the DMV why would she be in Minnesota? At Hopkins?

She was viral to say the least, videos of her shifty skills and her perfect copy of Steph curry’s shooting form were everywhere. She had tons of awards and championships and was on multiple USA teams at the age of 16. Not to mention she had dabbled in some modeling for Nike and other sports brands, which Paige may or may not have looked at the photos a few (hundred) times.

But the worst thing about it was that her worries were right, Azzi Fudd was a threat, she was a star, maybe even bigger than Paige.

**

The crowd was still roaring as Azzi walked in, she placed one foot in front of the other smoothly, she looked pretty smooth too; she had her full, long curly hair down-the front braided back, with a small touch of makeup on. She shined in the elertic blue color of the uniform, a perfect contrast against her tan skin.

She was effortlessly beautiful, her smile would make anyone fall in love and propose on the spot.

As she neared the group of baksetball players- her soon to be teammates, her eyes fell on one person in particular.

Paige Beuckers.

She had known about Paige, She was everywhere.

Gatorade’s Athlete of the year, overtime’s star player, viral highlights of her shooting and passing skills.

She was going to be fun to play with, great to play with.

But the look on her face told another story.

It was filled with something cold, unlike the rest of the teams eyes all filled with joy and recognition, they weren’t inviting, even if they were pretty.

Azzi finally took her place in line, she was on the oppisite side of Paige, but she couldn’t figure out why Page wasn’t excited. They were both guards yes, but that didn’t mean they had to fight? They had some plays where two guards were on the court, its not like Azzi being there would cut back on her playing time.

her new coach came to stand next to he whispering something under his breath, “Seems like the people already know you, huh?”

Azzi chuckled lightly as she looked around at the screaming fans, well I guess not fans, but her classmates.

She wasn’t a stranger to people fawning over her, but she didn’t let it get to her. Her parents reminded her everyday that if she’s not a good person, her skills won’t matter in the end.

And that was something she listened too, she was humble and proud of that.

But that didn’t mean sometimes seeing people go crazy over you didn’t feel insanely good.

***

The pep rally continued, starting with men’s soccer and going on women’s. The crowd was still excited but it was clear they cared most about basketball. No one was a national star on the other teams.

But as the football team came to an end, after what felt like 40 years, the crowd started to die out.

There was only 10 minutes of school left so teachers and staff were packing it up, the girls stood there, only now Azzi realized all of them were taking in a huddle, without her.

It stung but it was going to happen, she was new and-

“Azzi? Come over here!” A voice called out from the huddle waving her over.

Relived but still weary Azzi walked over, she always carried herself with confidence even though 90% of the time it was fake.

She walked up to the girls with a smile, “Hi guys, I’m Azzi, its nice to meet you all”

“Girl….we know. I think everyone in the state knows. No wait, everyone who’s heard of basketball knows.” A tall tanned girl said,

Azzi bushed slightly, still keeping her confidence, “Yeah, I guess, but I didn’t have time to go over the roaster…. So I still don’t know most of you..” She trailed off looking around at the girls,

“Oh girl-I gotchu, “ a girl, she’s pretty sure is named Kk says coming up and holding her shoulder, she starts pointing at teammates naming them and giving a silly side fact about them.

Azzi takes it seriously to focus and learn all her teammates, she’s good at reading people so she can almost immediately tell who is a possible friend on the team and whose gonna take some warming up too.

But then Kk points at the very last person, Paige;

“And this is well, I’m sure you know”

“Paige Beuckers, sophomore right?” Azzi cuts in making eye contact with Paige,

Paige wasn’t like anyone on the team, she glowed with confidence, so much so that it almost seemed cocky. But the way she played wasn’t selfish at all, she had the top number of assits every game, so maybe she just didn’t the same mindset as her.

“Yeah, nice to meet you or whatever.” Paige said crossing her arms around her chest,

Well that was rude.

“Paige, stop it right now.” A girl Azzi had learned was named Nika said, she had a heavy accent and only came to the states a year ago, but apparently she was close to Paige by the was the blonde immediately listened.

“Sooooo um anyways girl boo, are you any good? We got practice after this so I guess we finally find out right!” Kk said in a way that made her whole team forget about Paiges comment and focus back on Azzi,

Hopeful that the conversation was changing she turned around to reply when she felt a tap on her shoulder,

“Umm Azzi? Sorry this is weird but we’re such big fans! We watch your highlights with Steph like at least 20 times a day, do you think we could get a picture?” A girl said, speaking for the other 2 along with herself.

This wasn’t uncommon; getting asked for a picture with fans. But she didn’t think it would happen at her school.

Despite this she didn’t wanna be rude, “Yeah sure!”

Azzi leaned in and flashed her dimpled smile, and the girls looked back up and said there thanks as they left,

But as this was happpenig she had heard a scoff from behind her, one she knew could only belong to a certain person on the team,

She turned back around to Kk, “sorry what were you saying?” Azzi asked trying to focus back into the conversation,

As Kk was going to speak again another voice; Nikas, came through from the other side of the group.

“Paige stop it! She was being nice,”

“I just didn’t know she was that famous” Paige sneered, eyeing Azzi to make sure she heard it.

Azzi just pushed down her wave of sadness at this comment, she knew Paige had some anger issues from a few of her viral videos, but this was more, she didn’t even know Azzi and already hated her,

“Just ignore her, she’s cool I promise just yknow, territorial.” Ice said blocking Paige from Azzis view,

“Uh yeah, I get it. Maybe she’ll warm up to me later,” She replied smiling once again no matter how bad she wanted to run away and call her mom,

“Your like…..really nice for yknow-a person like you.” Caroline said looking at Azzi.

“What do you mean?”

“Yknow….like your the number one recruit in your class, just thought you’d be more, ‘im a star!’ But your not, your really sweet from the looks of it,” the tall burnette added sincerely,

Azzis heart skipped a beat at the compliment, feeling like maybe she was going to make some friends on the team,

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you to say.” She said giving a warm smile from her heart.

“See that’s what I mean!! She’s like a freaking princess.” Caroline said gesturing towards Azzi,

“Ohhh your right, Wait!! We should totally call her that! ‘Azzi Fudd; the princess!’” Kk said bouncing yet again, it seemed to be something she did quite often.

“Noooo ‘The People’s Princess!” Yknow cuz the people clearly love her!” Jana interrupted,

The other girls all agreed, making her heart swell,

She felt in place, she felt loved by these girls she had only known for a few minutes.

***

Paige had enough of Azzi already, she didn’t know why she hated her but she just did.

And when people came up to her asking for a picture, she could feel her blood boil. It was so stupid! She was just a basketball player, yeah maybe a good one… but she wasn’t Lebron James.

“Paige…” Nika warned knowlingly,

Nika always knew how to get to Paige, and even though the blonde knew she was being unreasonable, she was too mad to fix it.

“still just annoying, I mean shes a freshman! We haven’t even seen her play yet, what if she sucks.”

“Paige. She’s the Azzi Fudd, you know damn well that girl is going pro.” Nika scoffed.

she was right, and Paige hated it. Azzi was going to be good. But Paige was also good, great even. She didn’t have to worry.

“We’ll see at practice.” She said before turning away walking into the parking lot.

***

Paige sat in her car, she had a good 15 mintues before practice started to be by herself.

She closed the door and plugged in her phone to the aux. Sounds of Frank Ocean’s voice filled the car.

She let out a breath and closed her eyes, but her peace was interrupted by a the sound of a car door opening next to her.

She looks over and saw a jeep, looked like it just came from the dealers. It was black and sleek and expensive.

But she had never seen this car before, and the reason became clear once the door opened again,

Out walked Azzi, her hair now pulled up and her jersey traded for a pair of Nike shorts and a team USA shirt.

Of course Azzi had a perfect car, Paige let out a groan.

A little too loud apparently, because Azzi glanced up at her car. She caught a glimpse of Paige before awkwardly walking away.

“Oh my god kill me” Paige said throwing her head in her hands, embarrassed of being caught starring,

But cmon, Azzi just turned 16 like a week ago, which Paige hated that she knew. And she already had a great new car. She just seemed to have every fucking thing. Talent, fame, scholarships, looks. She was the worst.

Paiges alarm ringed telling her to go back into the gym, she threw off her jersey top, leaving her dark blue Nike compression shirt on and her uniform shorts, she really didn’t care to change, she just wanted this practice over with.

She started to stroll into the gym and sat down on the bleachers to put her shoes on.

“You better now? Azzi’s hitting it off with the team, you should really go talk to her.” Nika said sliding next her, putting her shoes on as well.

“I’d rather not, I come here to practice, not socialize.” Paige said tying her laces a little tighter then normal.

She stood up and walked over to get a ball for some shots before practice started,

“Hey Paige, can you hand me a ball?” a sweet voice said from behind her, one that could only belong to azzi,

Rolling her eyes Paige tossed a ball rough at her, not making eye contact,

“Um thanks,” She said walking away,

Paige let herself watch Azzi walk away for some reason, but she caught a glimpse of something that made her mad all over again.

Azzi was wearing team issued UConn Kobe’s, the ones you find on the players, they probably were only gifted to the players by the coaches.

Paige should have those shoes on, not her.

“your starring bueckers.” Caroline said appearing next to her,

Paige felt a slight blush creep up her neck, “I am not!”

“Mhm sure, just don’t be too much a bitch, the rest of the team wants her here.” She said picking up a ball and dribbling away.

It seemed like everyone loves stupid Fudd already. Great.

**

“ladies, ladies, Huddle up!” Their coach shouted blowing the whistle.

The girls all pulled towards her, balls in hand.

“So today as we all know is the first day of practice. You’ve all made the team, but that doesn’t mean we have our starters yet, play hard and play like you want to be here. Hit the line!”

The girls all groaned at the last few words, jogging over to the line.

“All right girls! We’re gonna start out with some running, I know you a want to play some basketball, but for now we wanna see whos in shape and ready to be apart of the starting 5. You’ll be running back and forth at the whistle in pairs, the last pair standing…well let’s just say they don’t have to worry about fighting for a spot in the 5. You all want this bad, so give it your all. if your partner falls behind; stay with them. Teamwork wins games. Let’s get started!”

Paige put her hands on her hips, she was ready for this. she was an all around athlete.

she ran almost everyday in the summer, she had worked her ass off with full court layups and sucideds.

But she wasn’t worried about herself, what if she got paired with some kid who couldn’t run half a mile?

She knew teamwork was important, but sometimes it held her back.

Her coach started pairing people up from the varsity roster, kk and ice, Caroline and Aubrey, Jana and Kaitlyn, Sarah and Morgan, and Nika with Allie,

Paige was too busy laughing at Nika getting paired up with the freshman who looked scared shitless to realize who there was left,

her coaches voice rang through, “Paige and Azzi!” Before moving on to the jv girls.

……..Really?

She had to get paired with the one person she didn’t even want to look at?

Azzi started to walk towards her and then she caught Paige off guard by speaking. “listen I know you hate me for no reason, i’m not stupid. But I want to be here, and i’m not gonna let you bitch me out. So can you please suck it up and work with me?”

Paiges breath caught, she was expecting Azzi to just be kind of a pushover, but I guess not.

“I’m not being bitchy, just making sure your good enough for my team Princess”

“Oh i’m good enough, and you know that Bueckers.”

Maybe Paige had read her wrong, but that wasn’t even the worst thing.

Now that she looked at Azzi right next to her, she was fucking beautiful.

She was nothing like the girls Paige had dated, and there had been a lot. She kinda had a reputation at the school, but that was expected with her fame.

But Azzi was tall, athletic, toned and tanned. She had her hair up in a messy bun with strands of curls falling out of it, and her smile could kill an army.

Maybe Paige should have some fun.

Azzi seemed to be straight, thinking back; there was a few rumors about her and this one D1 commit dating when they did a shoot for Adidas.

Paige had looked at that shoot a little less then the ones Azzi did before, she didn’t know why.

But with this, she pushed those thoughts down, she still had to prove she was better than this stupid, perfect person.

“All right girls, link arms with your partner and get ready!” Their coach shouted, clipboard and stop-watch in hand.

Paige was ready, she was prepared to run a freaking mile in the gym, and Azzi was locked in.

She knew Paige was intimated by her, it was kind of cute. But that doesn’t mean she gets to be bitchy, Azzi earned her spot here, hell—she was offered by IMG academy, she belonged anywhere basketball was.

so she knew she had to give it her all. she eyed Paige and stepped closer,

Fuck she smells good.

But whatever, she was still a bitch for no reason, no mater how intoxicating her presence was.

“I don’t bite, what are you waiting for Paige?” Azzi said holding her arm out,

“Really you don’t? I’m surprised. But I guess that wouldn’t be very princess like huh?”

“Shut up, I didn’t chose that nickname,” She didn’t, but she didn’t mind Paige saying it.

Paige scoffs and took Azzis arm into her own, linked by the elbows.

“This too close for you? Maybe I might bite Bueckers,” Azzi teased, her voice droppping slightly and meeting Paiges eyes,

“nah, just don’t fall in love with me, I know its a lot to handle being this close.” Paige said back, her eye contact unwavering.

There was an unspoken energy flowing between them, like they had just started a battle.

Azzi wasn’t used to teasing, but something about Paige made her want to push her buttons, but Paige did it right back.

The teasing was charged though, something else happening deep down,

A whistle blew hard and loud, “All right ladies, let’s see what you got!”

All the girls linked in pairs stepped up to the line, all ready to run. No one was going to back down, everyone had fought for there spots during tryouts, the group going from 80 girls down to just 2 teams of 12.

The whistle blew.

The girls jogged to the other side of the court, easy. They waited for the next whistle which came a second later,

The jogged back down, the whistle came again. A little faster this time, they ran once again.

“How about we speed it up?” Paige asked to Azzi, arms still linked,

Azzi scoffed, “Are you stupid, why would we burn energy?”

“what? You cant run a little?”

The whistle blew again 4th time down the court,

But this time Azzi took off sprinting, Paige didn’t expect this so she stumbled a little at first before catching up with Azzi who was basically pulling her,

“You could’ve warned me!” Paige said throwing her free hand up.

“I like to surprise, what can I say?” Azzi slid back, flashing her dimpled smile.

Paiges heart skipped a beat at the sight, she was stupidly pretty, and know she started to realize maybe not as sweet she presented.

The whistle blew again, this time Paige took off, fully sprinting as hard as she could, but Azzi expected this, causally keeping up with her,

Because they were sprinting and the other girls were jogging to the lines, they had an extra second to watch and wait for the rest of them to hit the line.

They were on their 6th stretch of the court, which was nothing to the varsity girls, but down the line it seemed that 2 pairs of JV girls had already dropped out, getting some bad stares from the coaches,

Paige nudged Azzi “Hey, looks like there’s only 10 more groups to beat.”

Azzi looked over and huffed, “we’ve run for maybe a total of 60 seconds, how did they make the team?”

The whistle blew for the 7th time,

Paige and Azzi took off sprinting once more,

a little out of breath Paige responded, “i don’t know, but I’m gonna tell you right now; I can do this all day.”

“oh really? Lets see when your the one begging me to stop, once I had to run 100 lines.” Azzi said, not out of breath unlike Paige,

Paige felt some anger creep back in, she had to last longer then stupid Azzi who didn’t even look like she had run one time.

The whistle blew for the 8th time, they sprinted in silence,

After a few seconds it blew again, they sprinted yet again.

“All right girls! I’m glad to see there’s 10 pairs still left, but we’re gonna speed it up. Get ready.” The coach yelled, and blew his whistle again.

Paige glanced at Azzi as their coach talked, silently asking a question which Azzi seemed to understand, because this time they didn’t sprint, they just jogged with the rest of the girls to the line, then the whistle blew again almost immediately.

After the 18th whistle blow, the time in between the lines was getting less and less. 3 more groups had dropped out, leaving one JV pair and Varisty.

Paige was out of breath, it getting a little harder to run, but the worst thing was that Azzi was still fucking fine.

she wasn’t showing any signs of breathlessness, looking as causal as ever.

The whistle blew for the 19th time, they ran to the other end barley touching it before the 20th blow came through, they ran back to the line,

“You okay there Bueckers?” Azzi said glancing over before the next whistle, which came right after she spoke,

Once they hit the other side the blonde responded, “just fine Princess, like I said; all day”

after the 30th whistle, it was hard to breathe, the JV pair had dropped out, lasting longer then anyone expected them to.

But it seemed like Azzi only gained energy with every step, which was the most annoying thing ever.

40th whistle came though. The first Varisty pair dropped out; Sarah and Morgan who sat on the floor panting.

50th whistle, KK and Ice dropped out,

“You hanging in there?” Azzi said, only now starting to pant.

“All day.” Paige responded simply, not even looking at her.

55th whistle, Jana and Kaitlyn.

60th whistle, Allie and Nika.

By the 70th whistle Caroline and Aubrey were barely making it to line in time.

There was only 2 pairs left, the rest of the girls were watching intently along with the coaches, who clearly didn’t expect them to last this long.

Paige was barley breathing, hair ponytail slicked to her neck in sweat,

Azzi on the other hand was still standing straight up, breathing heavily but she was focused, not letting her exhaustion get to her.

82nd whistle. They had run the court 82 times.

Aubrey and Caroline both collapsed onto the floor, barely breathing.

Paige and Azzi looked at each other, both extremely done with running, they had done it.

“all right very good ladies, but Azzi and Paige, separate and stay on the line, the two guards need to see whos gonna start.”

Paige groaned, everything hurt.

Her and Azzi unlinked arms, slick with sweat, Azzi whispered under her breath, “good luck Bueckers, and don’t get distracted.”

distracted? By what?

The whole blew, Azzi jogged with perfect posture down the other side, where Paige met her quickly.

Paige wasn’t gonna just let her win, she’d rather die then loose, especially to Azzi.

The rest of the team was chanting for different girls, taking bets on who would win,

The whistle blew: number 90.

There was a stabbing pain under Paiges chest, she couldn’t think or breathe. Only powered by her competitive nature.

100.

They had run the court 100 times.

Paige whipped her sweat with her shirt, the sheen glinting on her abs,

Azzi looked over just as she doing this, too be honest, Paige was attractive. She wasn’t afraid to admit it. But she was a bitch, but a hot one.

And Azzi was smart, and self aware, knowing she was attractive too, and that Paige sure wasn’t hiding her flirting very well.

With the 110th whistle she decided to push her luck. Seeing if she was right about her suspicions.

she leaning against the wall and pulled her sweat soaked shirt over her head. Leaving her in a sports bra.

a few of the girls clapped at this, Nika loudly whislted.

She had defined abs from the years of hard workouts, she knew they only looked more impressive in the light of the gym while sweat was dripping off them, her messy bun had dropped slightly, and more curls came out framing her face.

Paige looked over, her eyes dragged over her frame, not even hiding it, she mouthed “Not gonna work” before the whistle blew again.

The 115th whistle blew, they had officially run a little over 2 miles straight.

But with the constant changing of directions and the heat from the gym, it felt a lot more like a marathon.

Azzi looked over at Paige, she wasn’t looking like she could last much longer, but she was way too stubborn to give up. Azzi mouthed “you done?”

Paige responded by sprinting down the court at the whistle.

By the 120th whistle Azzi was done, she could barley keep her head up,

Paige was even more done, seemingly running on stubbornness.

As the 130th blew, Azzi legs started giving out, almost at the same time she could see Paige stumble slightly before running again.

Azzi didn’t know why. But she didn’t want to beat Paige.

Hell-one of the reasons she came here was to play with Paige.

So with that, when the 131st whistle blew and Paige didn’t move, Azzi didn’t either, instead she stumbled onto the ground.

Paige collapsed next to her, out of breath and barley alive,

The girls on the beach all burst out in cheers,

“Well I guess its a tie- good job both of you… that was unexpected. Girls on the bench! I expect more, a lot more running will be coming your way, grab a ball and start shooting. Bueckers, Fudd, Just hit the showers, and don’t throw up on anything important.”

Azzi hummed in acknowledgment, Paige just groaned.

After a few more seconds, Paige stood up slowly, wobbling walking towards Azzi extending a hand out.

Azzi looked up confused, but she quickly masked it with a smirk, “A real gentlewomen huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, “Just shut up and take my hand,”

Azzi reached out and grabbed Paiges hand.

she was forcefully pulled onto her ground catching a glimpse of Paiges toned Biceps flexing, clearly she lifted. A lot.

Paige smirked catching what Azzi was looking at, “You starring at something you like Princess?”

“shut up, don’t flatter yourself, there’s barley anything there, noodle arms,” Azzi responded, a little flustered from getting caught.

“Really hm? What’s this then?” Paige said flexing her arm fully looking down at Azzi with a cocky smile,

Azzi scoffed and pushed past her,

Paige called out as Azzi walked past, “You can feel it if you want!”

Azzi didn’t turn around because if she did, Paige would fully be able to her stupidly big smile.

[queenofmorningstar]

Caught Between the Vees

The Vees x f! Intern Reader

Summary: You're having one hell of a day, with the social media and fashion Overlord sweeps you off to her runaway show which you know nothing about.

CW: MDNI, WLW, oral sex, strap-on, modeling with no body shaming (reader's body is not described), Vel is first for the win against the boys, reader is a fucking genius when she wants to be, Vox & Val are mentioned. Foursome treat will be given in the last part (I'm evil like that)

Notes: At the end of post

Word Count: 3K

Chapter Two: Style Icon

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5

Your day was going great. Woke up with well rested sleep (which was a rarity), and prepared some good appetizing breakfast.

As you scrolled through some posts, you saw an email from Voxtek.

Huh? You didn’t pay much attention to your emails. As you tapped on it, your eyes were wide as saucers as you read the contents.

Was this bitch crazy? You looked at the time, 7:45.

Shit. You’re so fucked.

You quickly put on the first clothes you could find, and raced to the V tower. You bumped through the crazy crowds, some yelling slurs at you. You put up your middle-finger because you did not have the energy for these useless fucks.

The elevator was packed, the kind of tight that made breathing feel optional. The coffee swayed ominously in its tray.

Floor after floor, people left, until finally, the number you dreaded lit up.

You barely made it three steps into the office before you took in the rush of all kinds of sinners sprinting to and fro. Employees moved with the kind of urgency usually reserved for natural disasters.

Papers were being shuffled at inhuman speeds. Mannequins were being wheeled across the floor at breakneck speed, narrowly avoiding collisions. Seamstresses stitched with frantic precision, their fingers moving so fast they were a blur, while stylists yanked clothing racks into position, sweat beading on their brows.

A designer shrieked as a beaded bodice slipped off a hanger, and three people lunged to catch it before it hit the floor. Everyone moved like their lives depended on perfection. Because, in a way, they did.

You navigated through the stressful employees until you found Velvette. She was in her usual style, a mix of navy blue and dark burgundy, like her hair.

She didn’t notice you at first, but as you come closer, breathing heavily and sweating, Vel’s face scrunches up in disgust. “What the fuck are you wearing? Take that abomination out of my sight, and you know what? Get the fuck out as well, your attire is giving me a migraine.”

Your mouth opened. Then closed. She has the nerve to just –

You wanted to scream in a void. Guess what? Maybe you have been too lenient, not taking your real job seriously. You couldn’t wait to root out their weaknesses, and give it to Charlie, and maybe just accidently let it slip to Alastor, so he would come demolish this stupid neon building.

Velvette sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You’re still here? You’ve the nerve to look like you took fashion advice from a sad librarian.”

There’s only so much a person could take.

You swallowed the hundred replies that sprang to mind and instead took a careful step forward, placing her coffee on the desk, speaking calmly with a fake smile on your face. “Give me ten minutes,” You said, voice steady, heart screaming. “I’ll create something new. Right now. From what’s around me.”

Vel’s brow arched. She looked amused—perhaps even entertained by your audacity. “Ten minutes?”

“Yes.”

Her lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Fine. But it turns out you’re wasting my time, you’re a dead bitch.”

You saw her put on a timer on her phone. “Chop, chop, darling.”

You scanned the room. Fabrics draped over chairs, half-finished gowns slumped on mannequins, a pile of discarded clothes lay near the sewing stations. You rushed toward them, fingers brushing over textures, colors, weights.

First—structure. You grabbed a stiff black brocade fabric from a chair and threw it over a dress form. It had just enough rigidity to hold shape but enough give to move. You yanked a pink-stitched jacket from another table, quickly cutting away its sleeves with a pair of shears. The clean lines of the remaining fabric would serve as the bodice.

Next—bring out the colours. A dark pink organza sash lay abandoned near the window. Perfect. You twisted it into an exaggerated bow, layering and pleating it over the shoulder.

You worked fast, pinning and draping, using nothing but sheer instinct and the rush of adrenaline. Your hands were a blur, fingers threading, shaping, twisting.

Nine minutes in.

You took a step back, panting. The outfit was bold. Avant-garde. A fusion of gothic elegance and high-fashion edge. It wasn’t perfect, but it was alive.

All the models and designers gawked in complete silence.

Vel stepped forward, her calculating gaze raking over the creation. You braced yourself. She walked around the dress, fingers trailing over the textures.

You could hear the blood pounding in your ears.

“This,” she said, her voice quieter, measured, “is quite something.”

I exhaled, the weight in my chest lifting just slightly.

Her eyes met yours. “I have a fashion show tonight, and I was missing a piece. You’re coming with me, darlin’.”

Wait, what?!

___________________________________

Backstage at the show, your stomach twisted in knots. Stylists rushed around, models adjusting their outfits, the sharp scent of hairspray and fabric glue lingering in every breath.

The runway beyond the curtain felt like another world entirely.

Velvette stood near the entrance, watching the lineup. You swallowed hard and took a step closer to her, hoping for a word of guidance, a flicker of encouragement—anything to ground you in this moment.

Instead, she glanced at you, unimpressed. “You’re resourceful,” she said simply. “And observant. Use that. Watch the others. You’re going last, so use it to your advantage, sweetheart.”

That was it? No reassuring nod, no words of wisdom, no acknowledgment of how you were barely keeping your hands from shaking?

You tried to calm yourself, breathing in and out.

You were last in the lineup. You had time. Time to observe.

Vel side-eyed you again, and smirked. You were too nervous to realise as her fingers lifted your jaw, and leaned forward. “If you’re such a nervous wreck, how about I fuck ya?”

Your eyes widened in utter shock, as if your body couldn't register her words. “I – uh, right now…? I’m too full of anxiety for that.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to make it less awkward.

“Hmmm…so, not a rejection then. Anyways, you’re the type of woman I’d take my time to worship.” Vel leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered in a sultry murmur.

You involuntarily clenched your thighs, a shiver running down your spine. Heat pooled low in your belly as her breath tickles your skin.

But before you could say anything, Velvette smirked, having won some silent victory, and then turned away to step out on-stage as she was called by the host.

Somehow, that had distracted you; your fingers were no longer trembling.

You peered through the velvet curtain, your gaze fixed on the runway. Sharp lights illuminated the sleek, polished wood beneath a sea of camera flashes and clamoring voices of paparazzi.

Models moved with a practiced fluidity. You studied them intently, taking notes in your mind, evaluating their performances.

The way they paused at the end of the runway—slight but deliberate—was calculated, allowing the photographers to capture the moment and the audience to absorb their essence.

Soon, your moment arrived. You stepped into the spotlight that cascaded down from above, with all eyes on you.

Your stomach felt queasy.

You moved onto the runway with a calculated grace, the dress you wore fluttered delicately around you. The walk seemed like a never ending path.

Pausing at the end of the runway, you struck a pose, your body angled just right to showcase the dress. You felt the cameras, a thousand flashing lights.

But you froze like a block of ice when you saw VIP guests sitting right in front — the Vees. You got the look of the final third Vee, Valentino, in usual pimp-like garments, with his heart-shaped golden rimmed glasses on. Even with the glasses, you could tell, his eyes were on you.

Is this where he chooses new sinners for his porn films? You had seen various sinners working for all of them. Do they share souls? Interesting.

All the three Vees held your gaze. Vel’s eyes were full of promises, Vox’s gaze was assessing, and Val’s was steady, unwavering, drinking in every detail as if memorizing, as if savoring.

The moment you turned away for the walk back, you felt it—the weight of their eyes, lingering, burning, tracing every inch of you with a heat that sent shivers down your spine.

You were in a lot of trouble.

___________________________________

Vox chuckled. “So, she’s a multitasker.”

His grin was spread across his screen, his excitement bleeding into static in his voice.

Vel grinned as she tapped on her phone. “Her art really brings out her mind. I think I’m keeping this one, boys.”

Val hummed. “Do you think she will do a little show for me?”

Both Vox and Vel shouted. “Fuck no!”

Val frowned. “Why not?”

Vox’s left eye formed black and red spirals. “How many times I’ve said NOT to FUCK THIS UP?”

Velvette flicked his hat back. “What he said. I gotta go.”

Val grumbled. “You’re going early? On your show? What, got a hot date?”

She flipped him off as she walked back. “Exactly.”

After the show, Vel’s assistant showed you the way back. You were glad that the Vees were not in the limousine with you. You were surprised when the driver dropped you back at the V tower. He said that Velvette would wait for you in her private room.

You quickly made your way, since you knew her room was adjoined to her private office. Vel would come late, right? What a perfect opportunity.

You made your way to her desk, scanning the surface. Nothing incriminating—just a sleek computer, a few pens, and a single leather-bound planner. It was locked. Expected.

The real secrets wouldn’t be there either way.

You went to the vision board with red strings holding many different designer sketches. On closer look, you realised that the dates on the sketches were far too old.

Something was odd.

You tugged on the strings randomly, and a faint click sounded. A hidden compartment in the wall slid open just a fraction—enough for you to wedge your fingers in and pull it wider.

Inside, neatly stacked folders lay atop a sleek silver tablet. You grabbed both, flicking through the files. Before you could read it though, you heard the click of Velvette’s heels.

Too close yet so far.

You quickly put everything in place, just in time for the door to burst open. Rage burned in her eyes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my office?”

You scrambled for any excuse, but nothing came up, so you panicked.

You rushed forward, wrapping your hands around her neck, and before she could speak again, captured her lips with yours.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Fuck fuck fuck. This is the most stupid decision you've ever made.

She froze as your lips suddenly met hers, completely unprepared. Your nose bumped uncomfortably against hers as you fumble to adjust, while Vel let out a startled sound.

You pull back as she gently pushes you away with a teasing smirk on her face. “You’re quite bold, you cheeky little minx.”

Before you could respond, Velvette closed the distance again, pulling you into a ferocious kiss, claiming you, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Her hands cupped both your cheeks, titling it up to deepen the kiss. Your hands instinctively gripped her hips. Every moment of her lips was deliberate and calculated – leaving you dizzy with want.

You’re so lost in the intensity of her kiss, you didn’t realise she had moved you until the back of your knees hit the edge of her queen-sized bed, with dark pink silk sheets. With a gentle but firm push, she guides you down on the mattress.

Velvette smirked, licking her lips. “You’ve never looked more perfect than you do right here in my bed.”

She takes in your rumpled appearance, hair disheveled, lips swollen slightly from her kisses.

Strandling your hips, her mouth moves to your neck, sucking, biting, leaving black lipstick marks behind as she makes quick work of removing your clothes, tugging and pulling until you’re bare beneath her.

Her eyes hungrily take in every inch of your body as she discards her own garments.

Fuck, you’re going to completely ruined, weren’t you?

Vel’s hands hooked beneath my thighs, pulling your legs further apart. Her face was mere inches from your pussy. She looks up to you, her eyes glinting with something so all-consuming. “You’re even prettier down here.”

You blushed slightly. “You don’t have to –”

“Oh, I need to.”

She dives in without warning, her tongue parting your lower lips as she explores your wet heat. Her mouth works steadfastly, sucking and licking as her fingers spread you wide, allowing her better access.

Her tongue circles your clit, flicking and teasing the sensitive nub before she closes her lips around it, sucking hard. One finger, then another, slides inside your pussy, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm that matches the movements of her tongue.

The sensation is overwhelming – her tongue feels impossibly good, knowing exactly where to lick, exactly how much pressure to use. You can’t stop the whimpers from escaping as her fingers move inside you, curling perfectly… “Vel….ahhh, oh god, fuck.”

Your thighs tremble as you grip the sheets tighter. Her fingers curl deeper, moving faster, matching the frantic pace of her tongue on your clit.

“Ngggghhh….” You panted, losing all coherent words. Your hips started to move as well, chasing the feeling that would soon come.

Velvette seemed to enjoy your enthusiasm, her hands cupping your bottom as your back arches off the bed. You feel the knot of pleasure forming, your body instinctively trying to pull away, but she doesn’t let you go anywhere.

You could hear the wet sounds of her fingers sliding in and out of your pussy, combined with the obscene noises she makes while eating you out.

Vel could feel your muscles tightening around her fingers, your breathing becoming shallow and rapid. She increases her pace, until you shatter.

You scream out in pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably as you cum hard against her mouth. She continued to lick and suck as you rode out your orgasm.

Once you’re finally finished, she slowly pulls back, her face glistening with your wetness. “The real thing is so much better than I dreamed of.”

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. Vel got up and walked away.

Wait, is she fucking leaving you like this –

Vel returned as she slipped on a strap-on, the buckles clicking into place, with a pink silicone dildo.

Your face flushed with heat. To your surprise, as she sits down casually, the pink dildo sticking out lewdly between her legs. She leans back on her hands, her eyes meeting yours with a challenge. “Come on, babe. Ride me.”

She spoke in a way that provoked you. You locked eyes with her, refusing to back down. The defiance in your gaze seemed to excite her ever more. You could see the corners of her mouth twitch into a smirk.

You lean forward as she takes you in her lap, your hands gripping her shoulders firmly. You start to grind slowly, deliberately, against its head.

You grasped it and slowly guided it towards your entrance, slowly lowering yourself on it. The sensation is intense, stretching you as you take inch after inch into your body. “F-Fuck…”

Velvette watched your face intently, enjoying every expression that flickers across your face – that cute gasp that escaped your lips as you took it in fully, the flush on your cheeks. Her breath hitched slightly at how beautifully your body stretches around it.

You tried to bounce slowly, hoping to ease the thick toy inside you. Each slow, deliberate bounce pressed the dildo deeper, hitting new spots that make your body clench. She bites her lip, savoring the sight of your bouncing curves, taking one nipple in her mouth.

You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, so soft whimpers were coming uncontrollably from your lips, which snapped something in her. Suddenly, she laid you on the bed beside her, facing her, her pace becoming relentless.

With a mischievous grin, Vel started to thrust upward at a far rougher pace. Your whimpers turn into full-blown moans.

She crushed her mouth to yours, kissing you deeply, almost punishingly, matching the rough rhythm of her hips.

Her free hand roamed your body – squeezing your breast, then sliding down to your clit, rubbing it vigorously in tight circles. The dual stimulation quickly overwhelmed you. “That’s it, darling, cum for me like the good girl you are.”

“Vel – mmmm, Nghhhh, gonna…!” You cry out into her shoulder as the powerful release hits you. As your orgasm begins to subside, she gradually slowed her thrusts, drawing out the sensation until she finally pulled out with a wet pop.

You were in a daze, breathing heavily. The exhaustion of the entire day taking you under.

Can’t believe you designed a dress out of nowhere, wore it in high-strung show, did a short modelling career (you’re never doing that ever again) and fucked one of the Vees.

Could it be any crazier?

You felt Velvette kiss your forehead, but that can’t be right.

The next morning, you quickly dressed, intending to slip out before any awkward conservations. You were surprisingly clean, Vel must have cleaned you. You dashed out of her room, feeling like you left something behind. Whatever, you need to leave right now. You saw a message ding on your phone.

Charlie : Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? How’s it going?

How were you supposed to tell her you had royally fucked up?

___________________________________

Meanwhile, after Vel woke up, she sent a message to Val:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: The dress the reader has created is inspired from this image.

I’ve not studied any fashion, so please spare me

Btw, I imagine Vel and the reader are fucking here 🥵

To me, Vel is more practical in achieving her goal, being “backbone of the Vees” and thus being the first that gets time with reader

The title of the chap is from the lyrics of Fashion by Britney Manson

Can you guess who will get some alone time with the reader in the next part? 😏

Next>>>

[luffington]

OMG im obsessed with the fic with Cora and Doffy X Reader! i was wondering if i could request just Corazon X Reader? im absolutely crazy about the idea of sweet Cora having those repressed sadistic urges, and his struggle with wanting to be soft and kind, but cant help liking the darker and meaner, its just. UGH SO GOOD

Maybe the reader could have picked up on that a bit and is teasing him into giving in to those urges (which they're totally into lol)

Also i love your fics sm! keep up the great work <3

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: donquixote rosinante (corazon) x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.3k

➤ warnings: dom!corazon, possessive!corazon, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), praise kink, established relationship, fem reader

RIGHT ITS SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT!!! we barely know anything about cora outside of what law experienced and we'll probably never find out more so.... character interpretation!

my first draft of this had a paragraph where the reader acted bratty to try to coax out his mean side and he almost starting crying.... i took it out because i couldn't do that to him (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

this ended up being pretty similar to the other fic (read here) but i hope you like it!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Corazon was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Sure, he was a master of deception – hiding his Devil Fruit powers and tricking his brother into trusting him was definitely not an easy feat. His anger issues could use some work, even though the reasons behind his outrage were always justified. But his loving personality and strong sense of morality were very real.

He never doubted your kind heart, either. You had joined the Donquixote Family simply because you had no other options, and dealing with his crazy older brother was better than starving on the streets. Corazon was able to relax around you, be silly and affectionate without being judged by his cold-hearted coworkers, and finally speak after long stretches of staying silent.

But there was more to him.

Doflamingo seemed to be the black sheep based on what little you knew about the biological Donquixotes. A rare case of madness in an otherwise well-intentioned family. However, the brothers still shared the same genes and the same horrific childhood. And even though Corazon never discussed his experiences in the Navy, he certainly witnessed terrible things that still weighed on his mind.

Your boyfriend tried his best to keep any deep-rooted darkness away from you, but it was unhealthy for him to repress every negative emotion. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He didn’t need to be an angel all the time.

One time, the eternally clumsy blonde almost fell trying to hover above you in bed. Not wanting to crush you with his ten-foot tall body, he caught himself by grabbing your arm. Hard. You squeaked in surprise and he immediately apologized, but dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises stained your skin by the end of the night.

Early the next morning, when he thought you were still asleep, he lightly traced the marks over and over. You caught him staring at them throughout the day, too, looking more intrigued than upset. He littered your neck, chest, and thighs with hickies the next time you fucked, and you realized inflicting pain wasn’t what turned him on – he didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to mark you. Those were his fingerprints on your arm.

So much was taken away from him at a young age that of course he wanted to claim you as his own. Hickies were more conventionally sexy than bruises, so he was less ashamed about admiring them in front of you and telling you how pretty you look. Even gently rubbing a large one on your neck during a Family meeting, which made his brother huff and tell you to get a room. Corazon did get a room after that – pulled you aside into a private bathroom and fucked you against the sink while making you stare at yourself in the mirror. Whispering in a deep voice about how the color of your hickies matched his plum-colored lipstick.

A few weeks later, he came home in the middle of the night after being away on a mission with Diamante and Trebol for nearly a week. Thunder boomed outside the window and his feathery black coat left behind a trail of rainwater as he stumbled into your shared room. His tall frame visibly shook with anger, his dark sunglasses barely covered the fury burning in his eyes. You got out of bed to greet him and asked how the operation went, but he just pulled you into a very wet hug and mumbled, “I don’t want to think about it ever again.” 

You blinked slowly and whispered, “I can help you forget.”

The blonde threw his half-burned cigarette to the floor then smashed his lips against yours. He didn’t bother taking the time to build up to a heated kiss. Immediately biting your lower lip raw before pushing his long tongue inside your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, easily submitting and letting him take whatever he wanted from you. The smell of smoke caught both of your attention. Corazon instinctively stomped out the cigarette ashes smoldering on the throw rug without tearing away from the kiss for even a moment. 

“Let me use you.” He looked as desperate as he sounded. “Just for tonight, can you be my little doll? I’ll make it up to you later, I promise, I’ll be so good to you.” Heat shot straight to your core and you nodded fervently, clutching onto his drenched clothes like your life depended on it.

Which is how you ended up with his lengthy cock down your throat, your bare ass in the air and body wedged between his sprawled-out legs. Calloused fingers tangled in your hair to firmly guide you up and down. Graciously giving you time to relax by letting you swirl your tongue around the swollen tip, though he never pulled you entirely off his dick. He looked so pretty like this – damp hair clinging to his forehead, pale cheeks turned pretty pink, subtly squirming on the mattress, pupils fully blown out with lust. 

Corazon suddenly thrust upwards to hear you gag, several inches of his cock forcing their way into your tight throat. Tiny teardrops reflexively lined your eyes as your gag reflex kicked in. You expected the blonde to panic and immediately stop – even though it was just your body’s natural reaction and you were enjoying every second. But instead, he licked his lips like he wanted to devour you. 

There were those Doflamingo genes.

But unlike his selfish brother, Corazon asked if you were comfortable with everything happening for the second time that night. You gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, obviously unable to verbally confirm with his dick stretching your mouth to its limit. His cock drooled salty precum onto your tongue as thick globs of your drool dripped down to his balls. 

You used both hands to stroke the rest of his length that couldn’t fit in your mouth – the huge man had a huge dick to match. Corazon swatted them away, held your wrists in one giant hand then pushed down hard until every inch of him was deep in your throat, messy blonde pubes tickling your nose. He was glad he set up a sound barrier, otherwise the entire Family would’ve heard the debauched moan that spilled from his lips.

After a few moments of admiring you and the prominent bulge in your throat, your boyfriend released you just before it became too much. “Good girl,” Corazon panted with a dazed smile. “Such a good girl, taking it all like you’re supposed to.”

He gave up trying to hold back after that, bucking his hips against your face and rambling about how pretty and perfect you looked like this. He pressed your head all the way down again just before he hit his peak, shooting a large load of cum directly into your stomach. When he saw your ruined state, a dark pit formed in his stomach. Tears stained your cheeks and spit dripped down your chin as you gasped for air, and he was turned on by it. 

Corazon quickly pulled you close to press soft kisses against your cheek and make sure you were okay. Nothing you said seemed to convince him, so you brought his hand between your thighs. When he swiped a finger through your folds, his eyes widened at how wet you were. He admired the way your sticky juices webbed between his digits, then immediately began toying with your cunt.

“I would’ve stopped you if you didn’t like it,” you grinned, shamelessly rutting against the palm of his hand. “Ruin me with your cock more. I’ll be a good toy for you.”

Corazon gulped, stomach fluttering with sinful excitement. “O-Okay, if… if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Both of you knew he wanted it more than anything.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Blasphemous Rumours

Warnings: 18+, smut, hierophilia, sacrilegious acts, priest kink, fucking on an altar, suggestive themes in a confessional, riding a rosary(?...), hair pulling, biting, light blood play, exhibitionism, suggestive themes during mass, probably smth else but i don’t remember. nothing too crazy🧌. im debating on linking the playlist i wrote this to, but it would kinda get rid of the anonymity of this account…. ~nero :)

Father Paul Hill x female!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

You hated this fuckin ferry. 

You loved your family but you never understood why they never left that island. When you found your way out you left without a second thought. Vowing to never settle here again but that didn’t mean you’d never visit your family. Usually for the holidays you made your way back out here, but this time you just had a break in your schedule and wanted to visit. Wanting to visit didn’t trump the hatred you had for riding this fucking ferry though. 

To be completely honest you didn’t hate the ride itself but rather how the journey made you smell like a feeding bucket at Seaworld. The evening sun was gracing you with its last bit of warmth as it began to tuck itself behind the horizon. Against the cool mist of the water for a split moment, you almost understood the appeal of this lifestyle.

Almost. 

The ferry pulled up to the dock and your eyes fell on the shoreline meeting some abandoned nets and dried out seaweed. The seagulls' mews echoed as you exited the boat. Grabbing your bags you took a deep breath as your feet hit the sand and you began the trek up to your family home. 

Nothings changed. 

It’s been years and everything still looked the same. The houses, the people, hell even the smells were the same. It was uncanny. You saw the church in the distance and were relieved knowing that you could finally lay your bags down soon. As you passed the church your eyes landed on a relatively young man standing outside, a warm smile welcoming anyone that passed by. Styx-colored locks, a slender frame, and a face that looked ever so familiar. Pressing your lips together in a close-lipped smile and waved at him making a mental note to speak to him later. 

Your family’s house was only two doors down from the church and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see them. Knocking on the front door you eagerly waited to see who would see your face first. 

“Coming!” 

You heard faintly from the other side and you were greeted by the face of your mother. 

“Y/n! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you!” 

She embraced you immediately, nearly squeezing the life out of you. 

“Hi, Mom.” You chuckled 

Over her shoulder, you saw your little sister, Briar, smirking at you trying her best not to laugh at your current situation. Your mom pulled you into the house motioning for you to come eat dinner as you arrived just in time. 

“Please, come eat. We’ll worry about your bags later. You came just in time to go to mass with us after.”

Mass? Why so late?

“Mass? Did you guys miss it this morning or something?” 

Washing your hands you turned around to face your family as you dried them. Before you sat down at the table your dad came from around the corner physically interjecting himself into the conversation as your mom spoke. 

“No, they happen—hi dear, they happen in the evening now. A new priest has been filling in for the Monsignor. Apparently, while he left for his trip to Jerusalem he fell terribly ill. Such a shame. But Father Paul is phenomenal! I think you’ll like him.”

Your mom looked at you with a knowing smile and you knew exactly what she was teasing you about. You rolled your lips around your teeth and began to eat, swallowing a sly comment. 

After you guys finished dinner, you fixed yourself for mass. Although you weren’t religious on your own time, you did it for your family while you were here. Plus, it allowed you time to wrestle with your feelings with Christ to see if it really wasn’t for you. Your relationship with God or whoever was out there was complicated. Wildly complicated. You knew in your heart that you were a formal sinner yet you lacked the guilt that should’ve come with that. 

If anything, you relished in it. You loved being entangled with the feeling of sin, it made you feel alive. You felt so strangled as a kid with religion, as if every move you made was under scrutiny so when you found the courage to separate yourself, you may have overindulged in things that were impious in nature. 

Just as you were this evening, clad in a low-cut tank top, a hoodie, jeans, and slip-on Vans. If you felt you didn’t belong in Crockett before, you definitely visually fit the part now. Looking like a complete foreigner in comparison to everyone else. You screamed city. From your clothes, and makeup, even down to the way you spoke. You tried your best to eradicate every trace of Crockett when you left but there was one thing you couldn’t scrub away. 

God. 

God always found a way to squirm His way around your brain and tether you to this island. 

“Y/n! You ready, honey?” 

“Yeah!”

Spraying yourself with a light perfume you walked out into the front room where your family was waiting for you. Filing out the door, the walk to the church was quick which was something you despised as a kid and you could feel those same feelings bubbling up as you neared its entrance. It was as if God was mocking you, knowing that you had such an internal feud with whether or not you believed, what was right and wrong, and if you even had a sliver of faith left within you. 

Sitting down in the pews next to your family, you felt at home once the incense filled your nose. The strange feeling of comfort washing over you as memories of your childhood flashed in front of you. The tottering organ that was moments away from wood decay, the massive crucifix in the center arch of the back of the church, and the haunting glow from the warm ambient lighting had you questioning yourself once again. You swallowed the thought, deciding that nostalgic comfort was weighing out your need for logic. 

You were pulled from your thoughts as everyone around you rose to your feet and the chimes of the bell echoed through the building. It was at this point that you realized how many people were stuffed into the pews. Mass was never like this as a kid. 

He’s either the hottest thing known to man or he’s sent from God himself. 

Anticipation settled in your stomach and you fought the smile that was begging to stretch your lips. You needed to know what it was. Maybe he was just a really good preacher, and you were being facetious–or maybe you just walked into the next Jim Jones story. Either way, your eyes were glued to the hallway counting the seconds to the procession. 

As everyone around you opened their book of hymns you were fixated on the white robe that exited the side door.  You didn’t recognize either of the altar boys and for a brief moment, you wondered where the last two poor bastards ran off to. But then your eyes fell on his. His stark black hair wasn’t as neat as it was earlier today when you were walking through town. A few pieces in the front dangled over his right eyebrow and his head was bowed slightly as he walked through the pews. 

Your mind was pulled away from fully taking in the man as you were distracted by how full the church sounded. When you were younger the hymns always sounded so hollow and weak, but tonight it resembled a traditional mass. Savoring the moment of repose you felt, you found it within you to appreciate the music resonating through the building finding it somewhat odd that they were singing a hymn that sounded so haunting. 

At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye~

Your attention drifted back to the priest where he kneeled at the steps and then bowed his head at the altar. When his head raised to stare out across the pews you felt your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Your mom nudged your side, smirking when you turned to look at her. 

“Told you.”

You shoved your tongue in your cheek, swiping it across your teeth as you sat back down. Mass went by in a blink considering you were completely engrossed in the man in front of you rather than his preaching. At some point, you completely tuned out his biblical orations and resorted to the simple pleasures of imagining him and yourself in various scenarios in the church. 

In the pews, across the altar, across the altar with the front door open waiting for Beverly to waltz through, in the confessio-

“Honey, come. I want you to meet Father Paul.”

Your mom tapped you on your shoulder pushing you out of your trance of thoughts. Standing up, you smoothed out your top and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake out the tension in your shoulders you most certainly built up during your daydreaming. Walking out of the church you wondered why you were leaving if she wanted you to meet the man. You turned around and noticed that he was no longer at the altar either. Stepping out to the front, your questions were soon answered as a smooth voice sounded from behind you. 

“I see we have a new face in town.” 

Your mother butt in before you had a chance to speak for yourself. Laying her hand across the small of your back introducing you to the man you just spent the better half of an hour fantasizing about. 

“For a little bit, we do, yes! This is my daughter, y/n. She usually comes around for the holidays but we got lucky this time around. This used to be her home until about two years ago.”

You stuck your hand out, Father Paul grabbing yours with a firm grip and you couldn’t help the compulsion to stare at his hand for a moment before quickly finding your mind and smiling at him.

“Nice of you to step in for the Monsignor. My mom told me you’re his stand-in for the time being.” 

“Yes. I apologize seeing as I’m not who you expected, but I assure you he’s on the road to recovery.” 

As Father Paul spoke, you couldn’t quite place why he looked and felt so familiar. You were running through files of how you could’ve possibly known him but nothing was coming out concrete. 

“Oh! No need to apologize. I quite enjoyed your sermon, it was very similar to what I was used to growing up here. It’s as if he never left.” 

You chuckled out your last sentence and suddenly nerves found themselves coursing through your body as you maintained eye contact. You were committing his face to memory. Whether it be for personal reasons in the dead of night or to try and figure out where you knew him from. You’d wrestle with that later. Right now, you were just hoping that you weren’t being painfully obvious. 

You were. 

You were bordering a fine line of staring and eye-fucking him that your mother and sister were finding absolute humor in. Your eyes flickered back and forth between his clerical collar and his face trying to shake the thoughts that were circling their way around your head. 

“Well, I’m glad that I feel so familiar to you. I hope to see more of you during your time here with us.” 

He smiled at you with such sincerity you forgot about all the lust brewing for a second. His face held so many emotions but you couldn’t place any of them. 

“You will.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes holding something a little more heavy though. You were aware of the priesthood’s celibacy and something about knowing you couldn’t have him made the feeling that more intense. Although, you didn’t miss how it seemed the feeling was reciprocated while you looked at him. Father Paul spoke, breaking the silence that you two created. 

“Well, it was very nice to meet the rest of your family, Mrs. L/N, but I am afraid that I have some matters to tend to back in my rectory. You all have a very nice night.” 

His gaze lingered as he spoke, giving you the same treatment as you did moments before and it was making you squirm on the inside. His gaze was soft but so intense and the contrariety of it left your mind racing. While you and your family said a choir of goodbyes, you watched Father Paul walk away as your family made the way back to the house. Your sister spoke up, whipping you from your thoughts. 

“At this point, you should just tell him you want to fuck him.” 

Both of your parents exclaimed your sister’s name in shock but the two of you were left laughing. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.” 

“Y/n, you might as well have been sucking his fingers in front of us.” 

As you guys walked back into the house your mom snickered as you genuinely asked for her opinion. 

“Was I being that obvious about it?”

She paused. 

“You could be…less obvious about it.” 

You groaned in embarrassment rushing straight to your room to avoid any teasing for the night. 

“Goodnight!” 

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You opened your phone to check the time knowing full well that it was the middle of the night. You just wanted to see how late it was. 

3:33. 

Shit. 

You let out an exasperated sigh wiping your hand across your face. It was usually at this point in the night that your hand found its way in between your pajama pants and gently glided itself across your sensitive floret. Your hips jolted forward at the contact and as soon as that sensation spread through your body, images of Father Paul flickered in your mind. As your finger circled over your clit you found yourself reaching your climax faster than usual. As your orgasm flooded through your limbs, your chest heaved for air trying to calm the euphoria running through your veins. 

Pulling your hand from under the sheets, you let your arm drape across your eyes grappling with what you just did. But before you could really identify the problem with your actions, sleep weighed heavily on your eyelids. 

When you woke up, your middle of the night scandal was the first thing on your mind. 

How am I gonna look at him again? 

A string of questions ran through your mind leaving you mentally scattered but as you got ready for the day and saw your sister in the main room, it left the front of your mind. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning. You gonna go to church today?”

You shot your sister a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and a playful knowing. You two erupted into a fit of giggles that ended with you looking at her out of the corner of your eye. 

“Maybe.”

She watched you, impressed by your honesty, and nodded her head. Taking a sip of her drink she spoke through her swallow making her voice a little gummy. 

“Your best chances of seeing him are in the evening. For some reason, he’s stopped coming out in the day. Probably to avoid Bev. That woman would sew herself to his hip if she could.”

“Bev was up the Monsignor’s ass too, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve never seen someone try to get so close to fucking God.” 

You both were laughing until you saw your mother emerge from the hallway and you halted the sound in your throats. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just givin’ Bev shit for being Bev.”

Your mom laughed through her nose and shook her head at your antics and you were preparing for a small lecture. 

“So I take it you’ll be heading to the church tonight y/n? Typically we only go on Sundays now but I’m sure Father Paul would be ecstatic to see one of us a little more often.” 

Your family took great pride in taking the piss out of you and to be completely fair you made it quite easy. You rolled your eyes at your mother because even she knew you had lost touch with your faith, but now you had reason to find it–maybe. 

“I wasn’t planning on it but since Briar and now you have both greeted me with the question maybe I will. Build some rapport with the man.” 

“We both know you’d wanna build something more than rapport with him.” Briar chimed in. 

“I literally can’t even! You know…with him. It’s against their whole code. Don’t think I forgot. But also they like should come up with a code to not have hot priests, I’m just sayin.” 

They both just hummed in agreement still silently giving you shit. 

“You guys are terrible.” You laughed. 

~*~

You had all day to conjure up a scheme of how you’d find a way to get close to Father Paul and you finally decided on a plan while you were getting ready. 

Confession. 

Technically you didn’t need a priest for confession but it’d be nice to have someone listen while you were in the box. Everyone separated into their rooms for the day and you hoped that was still the case when you stepped out of the house. 

“Skirt’s a little long isn’t it.” 

You didn’t expect Briar to be sitting in the main room so her voice spooked you before you registered her words. 

“Yeah, but I think the side slits balance out the potential prude.” 

You shoved your leg out to the side showing off how the slit in the maxi skirt stopped at the middle of your thigh. Paired with a fairly tight black long sleeve and chunky boots, you were bordering on looking like a mortician. In your mind, being clad in all black hid not only you, but your true intentions from being so visible. The last thing you needed was being sniffed out through a choice of clothing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hopeful for an interaction. 

“I’ll be back.”

“Be safe.” Briar snickered

Stepping out into the cool night air, you were thankful to feel something other than the emotional heat from your family. It immediately soothed your nerves and you found yourself focusing more on your plan. With the church doors open, you noticed you saw nobody walking in and when you walked up the steps you were surprised to see the pews empty. It felt like you were intruding, like a fly buzzing around a dinner table. Your footsteps echoed in the empty building and you felt an overwhelming feeling to run out and forget about this elaborate plan. To sacrifice your need for affection and carnal satisfaction for a walk across the shoreline or to the general store. Just something else. 

Your eyes panned over to the confession box and you were wrestling with your gut feeling to stay. Maybe you should confess and get it off your chest…just not with him there. With disquieted uncertainty overcoming you, you took a step back to exit the church deciding that you’d come back another day, but when you expected your body to glide through the air, you stumbled into something solid instead. Whipping your body around you apologized profusely. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was spaced out and didn’t hear anybody behind me I’m so-” 

And then you paused. As your eyes traveled up to meet the person you stumbled into your eyes caught the clerical collar. It was like a bullet lodged itself into your chest and you felt your limbs begin to grow cold from shock. You knew who lied above that collar and you had to find the guts to look at him in the eye. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you alright? You seem pretty startled.” 

Father Paul placed his hand on your shoulder looking down at you with genuine concern. You made the mistake of looking at him directly in the eye and you wished you didn’t. His deep brown eyes furrowed under his brow waiting for your response but you were entranced by him. Stuttering when you found your voice. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just was in my head about something.” 

Father Paul cocked his head slightly trying to figure out where to step with you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and flickered back and forth between you and the confessional box. 

“I noticed you were quite focused on the confessional, were you looking to confess this evening, y/n?” 

You panicked. Backed in a corner, your mouth moved faster than your brain. It was too late before you could register the words flying out of your mouth. 

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been quite separated from my faith as of late but I’ve been struggling with…some intense internal issues that can’t be ignored now. I’m not sure if confession would make it better or worse and that’s why I was so engrossed in it.” 

“Well. We’re here now. If you’re comfortable, I can lead you through it.” 

You were hesitant. You worried that in your current state, you’d divulge too much, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed to do. To just get it all out of your system and bear the humiliation. You looked at him one last time and it was as if he was waiting for your compliance. He may as well have been extending his hand out to lead you to it. Closing your eyes and accepting this as a fated moment you inhaled a deep breath and nodded. 

“Okay.” 

Walking to the confessional, you got down on your knees, folded your hands in front of your mouth, and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked through the latticed opening and made out a few of Father Paul’s features. A feeling began to pool in your stomach as you realized the dynamic of the situation you were in. Your mind swiftly moved into the gutter wishing you were on your knees for a different reason. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–and will continue to do so.” 

You paused deciding one last time if you were going to bear all your bones here. Swallowing your pride, like a gun sounding the start of a race, you relieved yourself with zero guilt. 

“Being separated from my faith has left me in a deeply sacrilegious state. For the most part, I can ignore my thoughts, my taboo interests but since I stepped foot back on this island it's all come bubbling back up.”

You looked to see if Father Paul was looking at you but he stared straight ahead giving you his complete focus to your confession. 

“I find, grave desire in things I shouldn’t. Sexual hunger that I can’t displace somewhere else because I know the only reason it brews within me is because I know it’s wrong. Father, these feelings came back to the surface when I laid my eyes on you during Mass. I couldn’t help it. The feeling that pooled in the depths of my stomach and left me aching for something more. Forgive me, Father, for my boldness, but I fear that the only way I can feel relief is to…release.” 

You felt your breath quicken at how honest you were being but it was soon replaced by the feeling of of excitement. 

“I know it’s wrong but I…I can’t stop the feeling. This is all I can say, I’m sorry for my sins.” 

Silence. 

You felt like you sat in silence for an eternity waiting to hear his voice echo to your side, but you didn’t. Instead, you heard the pace of his breathing. You almost confused it for your own but you held your breath trying to calm your nerves and still it echoed. 

“Father…I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any-” 

“Y/n. Come to the other side. 

As you rose to your feet, you heard the door on his side of the confessional click open. When you stood in front of the door, it was the first time this evening you found the courage to look him directly in the eye. There was a dastardly hunger swimming in his brown eyes. Like a predator stalking his prey, his aura was intense and left you frozen in front of him awaiting his command. His eyebrow slightly cocked upward and his hand raised, coaxing you towards him. You followed, pausing before you stepped inside his side of the box but he coaxed you forward with his voice so smooth and alluring. With little room, you were left to slot yourself in between his legs. 

Your breath hitched as you looked at him again and he patted his thigh with his hand that was wrapped in a rosary. Clenching around nothing, you made the swift decision to close his legs and straddle them instead of taking his knee. Letting your hands rest on his shoulders you stared him down. Nothing but salacity was radiating between your bodies and quickly you began to feel your desire rise into your face. Searching his eyes for any indication of his feelings you opened your mouth to speak but he occupied the silence before you. 

“I wondered if, you would find the courage to be truthful and I must say I’m struck by your honesty.”

Your heart nearly stopped. 

You fucked this up, bad.

“Father, I-”

“No need for any apologies. I’m glad you were so honest.” 

“You…you are?”

“Lying is a sin, so yes. But it relieves me of my own prurient conscience so that I may indulge in you free of guilt.” 

You weren’t paying attention to the movement of his body due to being so focused on his words, but when his words were punctuated with the rolling of his rosary-clad finger across your cloth-covered center, you were made very aware. Your cunt clenched around nothing and your body lurched forward unintentionally writhing over his hand. Your breath came out in shutters and your eyes, now hooded with lust, gazed into his own in a frenzy. 

His fingers kept gently teasing your bud through your panties and you couldn’t help the compulsion to ride in tandem with his movements. The beads of the rosary gifted you an unknown kind of pleasure that you knew would afflict your mind for the rest of time. It was a feeling that was near indescribable but the pleasure was too good to deny. You rested your head on his forehead, gripping onto his shoulders for some type of leverage. You bit the corner of your lip in an effort to silence yourself, but your ragged breathing was near that of an incensed bull. 

“If you did a better job of controlling yourself yesterday, I may have been fooled by your sheepish nature, but you just couldn’t quell this desire on your own, could you? You went home to seek some satisfaction but you found none, so you came here to plague me instead. Praying that I’d fix this ache within you. Am I right y/n?”

You went to respond but Father Paul’s finger slipped past the barrier of your underwear, leaving you to feel your arousal be spread across your puffy petals. A moan escaped your throat and the way it echoed off the confessional walls into the church made you shrink into his body. A pathetic attempt to hide from your lechery. Father Paul hummed, urging you to speak as he sank two fingers into your honeyed garden. Catching your breath, you found your words. 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father~”

You brought your head up to look at him again, too dazed to even feel like this was real. As his fingers continued to roll themselves against your sweet spot, your breath quickened as your mouth stayed ajar looking for the courage somewhere in yourself to slot your lips against his. As he rolled his finger over your swollen bud, your body decided for you. Your lips danced in a sweat and lust-filled hysteria leaving your brain foggy with desire. You rolled your hips into his hand needing more of him and your sounds slowly increased in volume as you felt a bead of the rosary slide across your center. The feeling of the beads slightly grazing your sensitive lips brought you faster to the precipice of elation than you expected and you pathetically whined for your release. 

“I’m, I’m close, Father.” 

You expected him to speed up his ministrations, but instead, he removed his slick-ridden fingers from your garden and brought them up to his lips. As if his hand was dripping in myrrh, he sucked you off of his fingers and paused before he spoke. Ghosting his fingers across his lips, his tongue hesitantly licked the tips of them as he dragged his hand away from his face.

“If you’re going to be brought to rapture by my hand it will be done when all of me is inside of you.” 

Father Paul motioned you to stand up and you staggered out of the confessional with him not far behind. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the center of the church pews up to the altar. Ripping the white cloth off the altar, Father Paul held his hand out before sitting you down on the altar. He caressed his hands down the curves of your body before toying with the waistband of your skirt. Looking down at you, you saw the fervor swimming in his irises. 

“My sweet lamb, is this alright?”

You nodded and he slotted himself in between your legs feeling his bulge at your center. Depraved and corpulent lust washed over your body and your fingers fumbled with his belt, unfastening it with haste. You looked up at him and his face was closer than you expected, the heat radiating off of your bodies leaving a mist of humidity between you. You palmed him through his jeans and an inviscerated moan crawled out of his throat. The sound urged your body to move faster, the need to have him inside of you becoming near unbearable. 

He kissed you again, insatiable ardor all that you could taste. The feeling trickled down your body leaving goosebumps across your soft skin and a river seeping through the fabric of your panties that slowly painted the apex of your thighs. He tapped your thighs and you took it as a sign to lift your hips. In a swift motion, your skirt and underwear were left in a pool by the altar. Father Paul removed himself from his sweater, throwing it in the pile of sacrilegious cloths that served as a visual reminder of the desacralization that was about to take place. He left his button-up to cling to his chest and he moved his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, leaving him with his fervid cock on full display. 

You kicked your boots off your feet, the thud echoing a little bit louder than you intended. With your feet now free from their confines, you wrapped your legs around Father Paul’s legs, bringing him as close as possible. Your hand slithered between your bodies and varnished the tip of his cock in your amatory nectar. Your moans harmonized in synchrony and you gazed into his lust-blown eyes seeing nothing but black and you were sure yours were the same. He asked silently one last time for consent and you nodded slightly before he entered you. 

The stretch of his cock was something you felt only one could dream about. It filled you perfectly and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Your head dipped back in zeal, relishing in the feeling that was rushing in waves over your form. When your head tipped back up, your eyes met the enlarged crucifix that hung in the center of the back wall. For a reason unknown to you, locking eyes with Jesus as you desecrated His holy house made a pang of carnal hedonism tangle in your sexual daze. 

Your hands webbed themselves in Father Paul’s hair gripping at his strands and pulling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, feeling his breath heat up your skin. You felt his mouth open and drag itself across the side of your neck. A slight chill graced the parts where his spit marked his territory. You felt his breathing get heavier and all of a sudden you felt his cock slip out of you and he picked you up from the altar, turning you around and kicking your feet into a perfect V shape. He bent your body over the altar and slowly pushed himself back into you, the new angle making you cry out in complete perverted passion. 

His thrusts were deep and pointed making sure that you felt every inch of him drag in and out of your seraphic labyrinth. Just when you felt that the feeling couldn't get any more intense, his hand entangled itself into your hair and pulled your body up, flesh against his chest. His thrusts became rougher and you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. 

“Feel good, my dove?” 

You were fucking yourself back onto him, any coherent thought on the brink of leaving you amidst your ardent pleasure. 

“S-so…so good, Father. Shit.”

You were running out of air, your body paying more attention to the dam that was about to burst within you. 

“Better than your hand?”

“Uh-huh”

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and were hooded as you looked back at him. He gingerly guided your body back down to the altar and removed his hand from your hair, slowly tracing his hand down your back. Both of his hands grabbed your hips and the feeling had you crying out as his tip kissed your cervix. You felt his body lean over yours as he moved your hair away from your neck. His breath was sticking to your neck before a whisper ghosted over your ear.

“I’m sorry, but trust me right now.” 

He licked from the base of your neck and then you felt him pierce your skin with his teeth. In your licentious stupor, you just moaned out at the contact not fully registering that his teeth were sinking into your flesh or the fact that footsteps were echoing through the church. 

“Father, you weren’t in your rectory so I assumed this would be second best to find you-oh…” 

Bev.

Her grating voice almost brought you out of your daze, but Father Paul resorted to slow, deep thrusts as he kept he kept sucking your neck. When he lifted his face from your neck you felt a warm liquid trickle down your skin and pool towards your collarbone before landing on the altar. You lifted your head, your body weak and wracked with pleasure. You could barely make eye contact with her as your eyes were so hooded but you heard her voice resonate through the building once more. 

“Haresis Dea.”

Your head dropped unable to focus on her and your body rolled back into Father Paul’s, needing more of him as your orgasm was slowly fading back into your body. As you moved against him, his hips slowly began to thrust back into your sloppy cunt as Bev waited for some semblance of an explanation. 

“God has chosen her. He has chosen to consecrate this union, this nocturnal metamorphosis with lascivious intent because she is the last piece. God has willed it this way and has chosen her.” 

Father Paul bent down to lap at your neck again and his hips regained their momentum. You pushed yourself up from the altar and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck lapping at the blood that was dribbling down his chin.

“Very well.” 

And you heard Bev’s footsteps walk out of the church, the main doors closing behind her. Father Paul picked you up again, turning your body back around to face him. There was a certain ferality that wasn’t in his features before that had you clenching around his cock. With the doors shut, you both let your moans reign loose, a salacious cacophony filling the air. Your eyes scaled up the wall again and you came face to face with Jesus as a pool of heated arousal settled in your lower stomach begging to be set free. Your head knocked back in avidity and you didn’t see him slice a small cut in his wrist. 

When his thumb found your enflamed bud, you brought your head forward and he placed his bleeding wrist against your lips. As a wave of sexual delirium washed over you, your mouth hung open and he urged you to suck on his wrist. The metallic taste flooded over your tongue as your orgasm heightened your senses. Father Paul kept fucking you through your high until he reached his own, his cock painting your labyrinth a warm alabaster. He pulled his wrist away from you as you both were trying to calm down your breathing. 

Both of your mouths now covered in a drying garnet hue, you found yourself pressing your lips against his once again, unable to satisfy this ache completely. He chuckled as you both pulled away. 

“Easy, my dove.” 

You nodded, placing your hands flat against his chest. 

“Let’s get you dressed and then walk to the rectory, hmm?” 

Licking your bottom lip and locking it behind your teeth, you nodded as you slowly made the return back to your body.  

© yeonjuns-beanie

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.

Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.

The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.

Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.

"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.

"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.

"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."

"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."

"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"

"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?

"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.

"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."

"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"

"Woah." Danny blinks.

"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"

"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."

"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?

"How do you-"

"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.

"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."

Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.

"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."

"You... saw my picture?"

"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.

Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.

"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.

"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.

"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."

"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.

"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."

"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.

"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."

"Why?"

"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.

"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."

Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.

"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."

"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"

"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."