#not as part of the smut tho

[badmoodbatflowers]

Sweet like honey

chapter xii: how you met my mother

Rating: explicit

Pairing: Wednesday/Tyler

Summary:

A chance meeting sent Tyler reeling, but not for long.

[choccy-milky]

from my new oneshot, 'the vexing village of vellmore' ✨ ao3 / wattpad ((it's about seb & clora visiting a cursed village and trying to figure out how to break the curse, and since it ended up being 50k words i decided to split it into 2 chapters and the next part will be out soon!🙏 also, while it does have spoilers for the raven and the snake, it's a standalone story and can be read blind💖))

[ywuji]

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you��your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

[zevrra]

(more pervert!jayce bc i can eheh,,,,,,,)

oh god he was a mess. a pathetic, disgusting mess.

jayce’s hands trembled as he clutched onto the underwear he knew better than to have. he fidgets with the hem of your pretty panties, rubbing his thumb across the lacy fabric as he tries his best to talk himself out of doing what he was thinking about doing. but it was no use. he had already stolen the underwear from you. and since he couldn’t have you, he’d just have to settle for this…and use his imagination a little.

he had been hard all day long. sitting in the lab, watching you as you paraded around in a short dress…all just to tease him. jayce grunts heavily, leaning back into his desk chair as he slowly wraps his fingers around the base of his stiff cock. he slides his palm along the curve of his shaft until he presses firmly into the tip of his head; forcing him to stifle a groan, biting his bottom lip.

and he used to be satisfied with just staring at the pretty underwear he swiped but now it wasn’t enough. and he does something he thought he’d never do…desperately he takes the fabric between his closed fingers and presses it into his nose. imagining what you must smell like, how lovely you must taste. his hand picks up the pace as he imagines laying you on your back, forcing your legs open as he eats you out. his tongue slipping between every fold of your wet pussy, because he made you this wet. no one else could, only he could.

jayce stifles another pitiful whimper at the thought. his hand moving faster and faster, imagining your slick folds against his lips and tongue. how pretty you’d sound, moaning for him and only him. he can’t help but imagine how your thighs would tighten against his cheeks when he attacked your clit with his tongue; or how many fingers could he slip inside your twitching cunt before you came all over his tongue.

“fuck!” jayce mumbles into the sweet underwear he holds close to him. it was too much. the thought of fingering you, tasting you, touching you, imagining your sweet voice moaning his name…it was too goddamn much. he’s panting like a dog, head fuzzy, fingers trembling around his shaft as he practically fucks into his fist. when his orgasm hits him like a truck. he sobs, open mouth against the panties on his lips, muttering your name as his cums. mind numbing pleasure shoots to the tips of his fingers and toes with his orgasm.

his hand doesn’t stop moving until he finally reaches the end of his climax. eyes heavy as he stares at the white, sticky mess he’s created along his fingers. and he should feel bad…he should feel wrong for having such impure thoughts as the “golden boy” everyone has coined him to be. but he doesn’t feel bad in the slightest.

all he could care about in that moment was that, again, it wasn’t enough.

[untoldstar]

yandere tentacle monster x fem! reader part 2

warnings: yandere themes, obsessive behavior, mentions of watching reader, nsfw content, use of toys.

part 1 here

You sigh as you flip through the tv channels, nothing seeming to catch your interest.

It's been a week since that night.

After everything, you almost instantly fell asleep from the sheer exhaustion taking over your body and woke up without a trace of him confused and alone. For a few seconds, you thought it was all a dream. But the sharp ache between your legs and the red marks all over your body were proof enough of how real it was.

At first, you were relieved he was gone but then you realized you had so many questions you deserve to have answered.

It wasn't fair for him to just disappear like that.

Every night since then you'd stay awake a little longer than usual thinking he'd show up again but..he never did.

And you were getting antsy.

You switch off the tv and shift your gaze to the unopened box lying on the coffee table. You hate to admit it but that night awakened something in you. You felt like you couldn't just simply go back to normal so..you made a purchase.

You drop your head in you hands and shake your head "This is so embarrassing.." you peek at the box again. It wouldn't hurt to try..right?

You finally snatch the box and head for your bedroom.

You whimper as you shove your fingers deeper inside you.

You quickly found out you're going to need a lot of prepping if you're gonna fit that inside you.

You had the pink tentacle dildo you recently bought propped up on the floor behind you while you were on your knees pumping your fingers in and out of you. You kept thinking of the long tendrils that were all over your body, caressing you, squeezing your flesh. You thought of his deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

When you felt you had enough you slowly retracted your fingers shuddering at the loss. You adjusted your position and lifted up your hips to line yourself up with the tip.

Slowly, you lowered your hips until the tip was inside you. You let out a shuddered breath and kept going biting your lip at the sharp stretch. You were halfway down but it already felt good.

You mewled and rocked your hips slightly letting out a soft moan.

Your thoughts drifted back to the tentacles that filled you up that night reaching parts you never thought they could.

You needed more.

You pushed your hips down further and groaned at the stretch "Need some help, pet?"

Your body froze. You tilted your head to the side and you could see black tendrils heading in your direction "How rude of me, dropping by unannounced when you clearly had your own plans." His tone drips with smug amusement and the realization hits you.

The voice isn't echoing in your head anymore, you can hear him. Here.

You look back and see him. His long black hair, his upper body taking a human's muscular frame while just at the end of his torso the flesh slowly darkens as it leads to his lower half of tentacles.

His flesh is almost translucent, the matching dark veins visible.

"What are you doing here?" You try to toughen up your act but the quick beat of your heart betrays you.

You're excited.

He moves closer behind you "Thought you might have missed me.." His breath fans over your ear and your breathing becomes shallow as you feel his cold hands sneak to your hips "I was right.." He chuckles "I didn't miss you-" You yelp when he pushes your hips all the way down "Of course you did pet. Why else would you bring such a thing to your bedroom?" You pant struggling to focus on his words while the fullness of the toy overwhelms you.

He only waits a few seconds before his hands start guiding your hips up and down, you grip his hand "hah- ah fuck what..what are you doing" he huffs "Isn't it obvious, pet? I'm helping you. It's the least I could do after leaving you in such a state." Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your head drops back "I mean clearly you were so pent up you had to take matters into your own hands." He’s quiet for a few seconds, only the sounds of moans and heavy breathing filling up the room "I'm sorry pet" He mutters and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you think he might actually be sorry.

After a while you start moving your hips on your own, bouncing at a faster pace. Your moans get more high-pitched with each thrust "You're getting loud, pet." He growls "Tell me, is it reaching the deepest part of you? Does it reach all the places you want to be touched all at once? Does it compare to me?" his grip becomes bruising on your hips and you sob shaking your head "No-no no It's not big enough..need more-ah!" He hums approvingly and one of his hands slides down to rub your clit "Then cum pet. Cum so I can give you exactly what you want." His fingers keep working on your clit and your thrusts become sloppy and frantic before your entire body finally shudders as you come. Your legs shake but he pushes your hips down again pumping all of your cum out. You whine and squeeze his hand to tell him you're overstimulated. He finally stops and gently pushes your hips to free you from the toy.

Your body goes limp as you try to catch your breath "Are you ready now?" You pant "For what?" You squeal when he flips your body around. his hand gripping your thighs to keep you spread open for him "For me." Your eyes travel across his body until they land on his leaking slit, the tip of his cock poking out.

He smirks "Touch it, pet." You hesitantly lower your hand and gently rub the tip his cock only for the entire length fill up your hand. You feel your breath catch in your throat as you slowly stroke it, taking in the full length.

He was huge and you could feel the underside have ridges that made your mouth water at the thought of how they'd feel. Without even noticing you start to stroke him faster earning you moans and growls of approval before he grips your wrist "That's enough for now pet." he moves your wrist away and slaps his cock on your cunt a few times and your cheeks heat up at the vulnerable exposed position you're in.

He slides his cock up and down your slit a few times before finally pushing the tip in. He groans and you see his eyes roll to the back of his head "I've wanted this for so long pet you have no idea." You let out a long loud moan when he jerks his hips in one long thrust his entire cock now filling you up "I had to watch from the shadows. Watch you go through all of those pathetic men who couldn't satisfy you not like I can..No more. You're right where I want you now pet." His hips move at a steady pace and you jump when you feel the tendrils travel across your body while two switch between kneading your breast and pinching your nipples "Hmm do you like them?" Your eyes flutter open and you struggle to understand what he means until he nudges his head to the tendrils. You frantically nod your head "Yes~ah I do!" A tendril caresses your cheek affectionately and he hums "They like you..very much." He huffs and the corner of his mouth lifts up "You seemed so needy with that toy..surely this isn't enough for you." he spreads your legs wider and your entire body squirms when you feel a tendril softly prodding you from behind before slowly entering "Is it pet?" You whine and shake your head he chuckles before his eyes land on the discarded toy, you're too consumed by pleasure to notice the dark sour expression on his face or the way his grip becomes firmer on your hips "You never use such a thing again." he snaps his hips in a rougher and quicker pace "Understand?" Tears stream down your face and you sob as you feel another orgasm build up. He slows his pace to an agonizing one "I asked a question, pet." he growls and a cry breaks out from your throat "Yes! I won't ever use it!" He hums and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he returns to pounding you at an inhuman pace "Good. Cum for me again pet. Show me how much you wanted me all this time." Your high-pitched moans and cries echo throughout your apartment as your orgasm completely shakes you. You hear his breathing become uneven and his cock twitching inside. He cums after a few snaps of his hips, his cum filling you up to the deepest part and mixing with your own release. You stay like that for a few seconds before he pulls out pulling a sharp gasp from the both of you.

The both of you lay down on the floor not bothering to get up just yet and as your breathing turns steady you feel your eyelids start to get heavy only for them to snap open when you feel him shift to get up "Where are you going?" alarm fills your voice and he only laughs "I'm going to get you cleaned up and in bed, pet." you blink "Oh." Embarrassment fills your chest and you feel warmth spread over your cheeks "I'm not leaving you pet. Never. You're mine forever."

[meganegatari]

https://www.tumblr.com/plutolovesyou/755080548722081793/do-you-think-ellie-would-be-more-a-strap?source=share

this with abby PLZZ

ellie version. dina version. your wish is my command ♡ smutty yap ahead! ++ lil bonus scenario under the cut: just like before, abby loves it all. she loves you and your body, and making you see stars any and every way she can. ima gloss over the other ways because i'd rather write full fics about em ;) but one method rises above the others, in my opinion. i think abby would be a fiend for fingering.

i think she'd be quite visual, and what gives her a better view than this—stuffing her thick fingers inside your pussy, watching you fall apart on nothing more than a few of her digits working diligently to bring you a world of pleasure. she'd love watching the fluids leak out of you and soak her hand, occasionally pulling her fingers free to stretch them apart, and admire the shiny webs of slick that have been created. and we simply can't forget the praises that would fall from her lips the whole time, when she's not completely hypnotized that is.

"look at that...takin' me so well, so well, baby." she's sitting there in awe at the way you're swallowing her up so perfectly, the unforgiving pace of her pounding in and out rendering you an utter mess. your broken mewls, sharp gasps and intakes of air when she curls her fingers skyward juuuust right, pleas for more and lewd poems of her name, combined with the soaked squelching sounds of her ministrations curated a soundscape that was straight (heh, not!) out of her fantasies. she wouldn't stop to give either one of you a break, and would go on for ages, thanks to all the exercises she does—incorporating special hand and arm workouts into her routine for this very purpose.

and if your brain wasn't a fucked out pile of goop, you'd prop yourself up to watch her gorgeously toned arms flex and ripple at her movements, which made the experience even better. plus, because she's such a huge fan of feeling you around her fingers like this, over time she has grown to recognize what every little squirt, squeeze, and flutter of your squishy walls meant, and she'd move her thumb to circle your swollen clit to increase intensity of it all. when the peak approaches, she'd continue what she was doing until you're bordering on tears from the overwhelming sensations, talking you through every moment. "that's it, yeah. let go for me, cmon. give it to me- fuck, so perfect..." only when you were trembling and truly couldn't take any more, she'd let up, eyes sparkling while she's examining her handiwork (LMAO) then she sticks her fingers in her mouth to lick them clean, sucking up every drop and sighing at the taste, her blue eyes closing in pure bliss.

bonus: same thing as last time, something that isn't one of the three mentioned but i think she's obsessed with, is thigh riding. hell, even ab riding. dare i even mention dove fucking...? because her physique is so powerful and beloved by you, she would love watching you grind on her taught muscles desperately—however way, whether you were riding her flexed thigh like a rodeo, or straddling her 6-pack, bracing yourself on her broad shoulders, humping her skin until there was cum all over her and dripping onto the sheets. sometimes she'd take her strong hands to your hips and waist to guide you, pulling you in, pushing you down harder against her until your hips stuttered, but other times she'd lazily cross her arms behind her head, lay back and enjoy the show. she'd love watching you rut up and down, rolling your heat on her frantically in all directions, huffing and puffing until you're so close, yet so tired and whining miserably. she would help you out of course, but not before muttering, "go on, keep going baby, doing so well." until you eventually did it, and collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped you in a warm embrace. OKAY GODDAMN THE OTHER ONE WAS LIKE A THIRD OF THIS LENGTH LAWRD...

[viperify]

Oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄᴏ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Escaping You.

Short summary: After spending incredibly tedious days alone in the cabin, they finally came back for another round. Though again, they disappeared in a hurry. Little did they know they left behind just what you needed…

Warnings: 18+ only! threesome, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, slight degradation

A/N: so sorry this took so long but every time I opened the document I questioned my sanity

wordcount: 2,2k

Read part 1 before!

part 3

It‘s been three days since they had left you behind in the cabin.

You paced around the room, panicking. After trying everything in your power to get out, you gave up, accepting your fate. If you had a wand, it would have been easy to get through the wards, but well, they took it from you. At least they were considerate enough not to let you starve. Three times a day a meal would appear on the wooden table next to the front door, and as soon you were finished the plate vanished.

Sadly enough, guessing what they would come up with next for you to eat was the most interesting part of the seemingly never-ending days. It was torture, really. There was nothing for you to do except either sit there or uselessly wander around the tiny space. Never had you imagined you would ever wish to read a book, but that was exactly what you craved most. Distraction. Anything.

Today‘s lunch consisted of pastries, some sort of bread with your favourite spread and–

You furrowed your eyebrows. How did they even know what your favourite was?

Shaking your head, you went on to finish your second meal of the day. It was not like you could ask them anyway.

Although you thought you had basically seen everything in the cabin, a strange looking wood panel caught your attention. It was just beneath one of the beds, barely peeking out. You quickly made your way towards it, and as you lifted the detached panel, a book and loose notes became visible. Quickly, you picked up what you had found and tried to make sense of it.

As you opened the book, you froze. Handwritten notes about Order member profiles, secret locations, frequently used spells and maps of Hogwarts were expertly put together on the paper. As you continued reading, more details came to light.

They knew everything.

Every single detail about Order movements, meetings, your research about Horcruxes… they had it all noted in that silly book. If they knew of all this, they could have erased the entire Order by now. The worst part was that you recognized Draco’s handwriting, meaning they must have gathered the information themselves. You shuddered as you flipped through the pages and you found a page which had your timetable on it, every single lesson you took accurately sketched out, as well as routes you normally took through the castle to get to the classrooms.

If they had done this for every Order member, you wouldn’t have been as creeped out, however it seemed to only be you who they made this effort for.

Someone from inside must have been leaking information, there was no way they could have found out all of this by themselves you thought. Just as you were about to study the notes, a loud creak of the front door had your head shoot up. Two familiar figures entered the cabin, taking off their masks on the way. You quickly tried to hide the notes, but it was too late.

“I thought you had learned your lesson about snooping around?” Tom asked, slowly making his way towards you.

“How did you get all this information and what do you need it for?”

The brunette’s mouth twitched, stopping right in front of you to take the books and notes from your hands. “That is none of your business, darling.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips trembling as you stood up, ready to confront them. His taller figure still towered over you, his piercing gaze meeting yours. The brunette’s expression was as always controlled, not a single emotion visible on his pale face.

“What did you think I was going to do? Sit there and reminisce about former times? Back when I wasn’t locked in this tiny cabin with nothing else to do? If you thought I would just give in after whatever happened between us, you are wrong. I will never defy the Order. Not until my very last breath.”

Your tone was sharp, drawing their attention to you. Tom turned around to face Draco as they exchanged a glance. “We thought you would say that. But as we said, you aren’t getting out of here. Not until it’s over.” The blonde said, coming closer as well.

As you were about to complain, the last sentence got caught in your head. You tilted your head, turning your attention to Draco, slowly walking towards him.

“Until what is over?” You questioned, voice controlled, barely above a whisper. Tom sighed defeatedly, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away from you two. “Malfoy, you are quite possibly the most stupid person I have ever had to work with.” He muttered under his breath, slowly shaking his head.

“Until what is over?” You repeated, eyes flickering between your capturers.

None of them were looking at you anymore though, Draco’s gaze was following Tom, who was pacing around the small cabin.

“Guys talk t-“ your attempt to speak was cut off by Tom swiftly locking his eyes with yours, approaching you. Taking a few steps backwards didn’t help, as you were stopped by the bed behind you. “You liked what we did, didn’t you? You enjoyed it?” He questioned calmly, his eyes staring right into yours, breath hot on your face.

As you didnt reply but rather avoid his strict expression, his hand wandered to your face, squeezing your cheeks almost painfully.

“Answer me.”

“Yes I did but-“ you complained, however  you were cut off again.

“Great. That’s all.” Tom loosened his grip, taking a step back with a sly grin on his face.

“You tell me what is going on. Why did you bring me here?” You hissed, though neither of them seemed to care. They were looking for something, and as they spotted one last sheet of paper you had managed to hide from them until that moment, the blonde snatched it, his lips perking up in a smile. “Got it.” He said, handing it over to Tom who also seemed satisfied.

You shook your head and huffed. “If I ever get out of here, you two should hope the Order show mercy. You have been spying on them for Merlin knows how long.”

“Order, Order, Order. It’s always just the Order with you, isn’t it? May I remind you of your blood status and who is in this very room with you?” Draco asked, though not necessarily in an offensive way, not like you were used to at least.

A scoff escaped your slightly parted lips as you shook your head in disbelief. “The Order is my family. However, I can’t help but ask myself,” your legs carrying you ever so slowly towards the blonde, “What would your dear families think of you getting with a muggle-born, hm?” Finally stopping in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest as you raised your eyebrows. Two pairs of eyes were now staring directly at you, the room having fallen into complete silence.

Draco closed the distance between you two, capturing you in a passionate kiss. Your first kiss together. His hand sneaked up to your neck, holding you close to him. “If you think we care about that you are mistaken.” He breathed, pulling away from you.

“We had an agreement, Malfoy” Tom warned, approaching you two.

“Tell her.”

The brunette‘s hand softly wrapped around your throat from behind, pressing his chest against your back as he leaned in, placing a small kiss on your ear. “This whole thing was never about the Order, darling.”

“A- About what is it then?” you breathed, tilting your head slightly as Tom trailed soft kisses down your neck.

“It has always been about you. Your safety.” Draco answered huskily, his lips meeting yours again before you had the chance to reply anything.

“You two are so infuriating.” You said as you broke apart.

“That’s why you love us.”

Soft moans escaped your mouth as the two Slytherins worked your body, the blonde ridding you of your trousers while Tom pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in your matching set of red underwear. “So pretty for us.” Draco encouraged, his hands roaming over your exposed skin, cupping your breasts over your lace bra at last, while Tom worked to open it. As soon as the material hit the ground, the blonde’s lips closed around your hardened peak, twirling his tongue around it before gently dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. Tom’s hand travelled over your waist to your tummy, slipping inside your panties to find your swollen clit, drawing lazy circles on it.

Any doubt in your mind had long vanished, replaced by the pure bliss of pleasure spreading through your body. Just when you were about to reach your much needed release, your palm closing around around Tom’s arm as your head rested on his shoulder, the brunette withdrew his hand, leaving you teetering at the edge of your climax.

Your eyes fluttered open, a whimper falling over your lips at the loss of his touch. “Please” you whined, but as always, they didn’t listen to you.

“Patience is virtue, darling. Now, kneel for us.”

You did as you were told, sinking down on the cold wooden floor, eyes locking onto Draco. Excitement started rushing through you at the sight of your capturers, who stripped themselves of their black clothing, switching positions.

“It’s my turn try your sweet pussy today.” Draco murmured, lining himself up with your soaked entrance after collecting some of your slick. You both gasped as he slowly pushed his tip inside of you, stretching you just how you liked it. The brunette in the meanwhile watched you two hungrily, and just after you had adjusted to the blonde, Tom tapped his cock against your plump lips. Your eyes met his, your tongue swiping over your lips seductively. The brunette’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched you, all while getting fucked by the other Slytherin. “Dirty girl. Come on, open up now. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

You stuck your tongue out, letting him slide his hard length past your lips. Just about over halfway in, he hit the back of your throat, having you gag around him. “Open up wider, slut. I know you can. Saw it last time.”

It took a few thrusts until both Slytherin’s had set a steady rhythm, Draco’s cock pushing into you from the perfect angle which had you seeing stars, while Tom mercilessly thrusted into your mouth, using hid grip on your hair as leverage. “Such a good girl for us. Doing so well.” The blonde cooed, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips as he sped up, his tip kissing your cervix with almost every thrust. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Mmhm-“ you agreed best you could as the lewd sounds of Tom hitting the back of your throat filled the cabin. Dissatisfied with your reply his fingers tangled in your curls, pulling you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. “Answer him properly” he demanded, his darkened eyes staring back at yours.

“Y-Yes I do! I love it!” You blurt out, groaning when the blonde’s hand sneaked towards your clit to rub on it. “That’s right, good girl.” Tom growled, pushing back into you.

Your hips moved back against Draco’s for extra friction, feeling the waves of your high about to break the dam that had been holding it back for so long, eager to find release.

Both of their arms jerked back with a hiss and they exchanged a glance, halting their movements. “Why did you stop?“ you blinked a few times, the feeling in your lower stomach slowly fading.

“I fear we have to go. So sorry, love. We will make it up to you, I promise.” Draco explained, getting up. They dressed themselves in a hurry, not paying you any more attention.

“You can’t be serious. Stay! Don’t even think about leaving me here again!” You yelled, however both of them had already put on their coats, exiting the cabin at once.

The door was locked. They had left you behind yet again.

You sank down against the door, exhaling sharply. Your eyes roamed around the place, and just as you were about to get up to dress yourself, you spotted something familiar. It was your wand, which they had apparently lost in their hurry. Quickly you got dressed and picked up your wand, feeling relieved to finally have it back.

With the help of some spells, you were able to work your way through the wards, and the door opened. A smile formed on your face at the first breath of fresh air in days. You contemplated leaving behind a note but decided against it. If they weren’t going to tell you why it was important to stay in the cabin, you wouldn’t. The Order needed you.

You made your way out of the small hut, checking whether it was safe.

Then, you ran.

Tagging a few people who wanted a pt 2:

@leviathans-fish @grandeoatmilklatte @shinytalent @noisytravelerpizza @iwasalloverhimmmm

I hope it isn’t too disappointing. I had an idea when I posted pt 1 but I scrapped that and writing this was a STRUGGLE lmao.

[satoruhour]

If you don’t mind (tho ofc you don’t have to write it if you don’t wish to), could we get a pt 2 of that priest geto fic? Where him and reader have been secretly fucking every damn where but especially in the church ever since that night, they both realise they have a thing for breeding kink so they don’t bother with protection either. Obv they have to hide what they’re doing and reader secretly gets away from her house at night to get dicked down frequently. and he knocks her up so they ultimately run away together ( or somewhere along those lines it’s totally up to you)

We missed you!! So good to have you back :D

DOMINE DIRIGE NOS !

wc: 7.8k (when will the horrors stop) / first part here ✶

warnings: DARK CONTENT, LORE, priest!geto, fem!reader, age gap (reader is in early 20s, geto in late 20s), christian references, religious themes used in inappropriate ways, questions of religion and life, brief mention of abortion, described scenes of f! and m! masturbation, face-sitting, fingering, clit stimulation, both f! and m! receiving oral, praise, mild degradation, sex in a religious place, semi-public sex (blowjob while geto is conducting mass oop), deep-throating, lots of unprotected p -> v sex, LOTS of creampie / breeding kink, multiple rounds, abandoning home, n*sfw under the cut

“father geto?” you curl deeper into geto’s back in the rectory, the uncomfortable mattress below you just reminding you of your upbringing in this suffocating town and the proximity of everyone. since that night, the two of you have been insatiable, using the House of the Lord for anything holy and instead are filled with violent moans and constant skin-slapping. even to you, the Church has started to look darker and darker, painted with the sin of Pandæmonium’s pillars, each time you enter it.

mass is all about locking eyes with the other, a game to see who falls first. sometimes you’d come in the shortest dress you can find, staring up at him from the second pew from under your eyelashes just like how you’d suck his cock. sometimes father geto would have his hair tied up, revealing his neck and jawline — the priest had not much to experiment with, but it took equal effect on you, anyway. clenched thighs, stuttered words, fluttering eyes.

father geto fortunately finds it easier to evade parishioners after doing his morning greetings to everyone; with another older priest who didn’t request the rectory, he could hide away to stroke at his cock all he wanted while the other took over the later masses. you, however, needed to reject the holy pastor ever so often to stop your mother from thinking vile of your absence.

it still was father geto, though, so whenever you mentioned his name after morning mass, she lit up like a switchboard, happily ushering you away to spend time because it was always encouraged to improve your faith.

— improving your faith in a non-existing god, perhaps.

“you don’t have to call me father when we’re alone, baby,” geto reassured, accommodating you when you turned around to meet him halfway.

“yeah?” you whisper, like someone could hear you. it was taboo, shameful even. the neighbourhood good girl with a deadbeat father coalescing with the newly transferred priest — it was the blasphemous, sent to be burnt at the pyre sort of sin. the rectory felt odd, your house felt odd; there was no place for people like the two of you, driven by lust and forbidden love and sin in the eyes of God, but what could people do when sin just felt so right?

you relish in the father’s gasp when you grind your butt against his crotch which are concealed behind his trousers, biting your lip with a smile when you catch his small grin at your mischief. you continue your ministrations, rolling your hips and bringing his hands to your chest. your clothing has become shorter and shorter ever since you convinced him of your little sin back in the confessional booth of skimpy tops and skirts. geto takes over, fingers slipping under your camisole to pull down your bra, fondling with your tits and playing with your nipples.

“sneaky little baby, hm?”

“s-suguru—” you whine, hips bucking and cunt already clenching. “need your cock, tongue, anything—”

“i’m getting there, doll, wait for me,” he pants, hurriedly unzipping his trousers. his erection is pulsing and throbbing by now, letting out a small sigh of relief when he finally pulls down his underwear, but you’re confused when you’re turned around and before you can reach to sit yourself on him—

“sit on my face first, darling,” he slyly smiles, beckoning you forward. here, father geto suguru looks anything like a pastor and if you close your eyes and listen, the repetitive tweets of the morning mass birds sound a little sweeter and the rushing water of the stream nearby remind you of a countryside house far away from your parents, your faith, your life. but forbidden has a time limit without the luxury of listening in, so you only settle for a pout when you hear the slick noises of him pumping his cock.

“you did say tongue,” he grins, “i don’t disobey scripture.”

“i’m not the Bible, suguru,” you jest with a small smile.

“you are scripture to me — anything you say and do, i’ll follow.”

and that’s the first time it’s truly cemented in you how much father geto was truly willing to throw away, but you hardly have any time to react before he easily settles one leg over and pulls you toward his mouth. it’s so violent, the way he loves you that there’s a small hmph that sounds from his throat when your sweet, wet pussy meets his mouth. after, it’s just endless groans as he laps at your clit while you fill the rectory with your sinful moans, grinding your hips into his mouth over and over while he just hums in agreement.

“that— that’s it, useme, useme—” it comes out slurred and slippery, just like your dripping cunt and his leaking cock, wet sounds that surround the both of you as geto’s tongue continue to assault your sensitive clit. he licks and sucks endlessly that you have no choice but to grab onto his hair for support and he does to same to both your thighs.

“father suguru—! hnfuck . .” you whimper out, looking down at him with hooded eyes while he meets you with the same intensity. below you are just streams and streams of your juices flooding his chin and hair; he just ever so lightly dips his tongue down to your needy cunt, plunging it in and your back arches involuntarily, “o-oh, god!”

geto laughs into your pussy, arm still clutching your thigh but the other goes back to his neglected dick, pumping it in time with his tongue as he swirls it around and you just clutch tighter and tighter. you definitely soaked through the sheets by now, but you follow his command, riding his face over and over until you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

“su— suguru, i’m g’nna . .” you moan out quietly, but your priest already knows what’s in store for him, abandoning his own ministrations entirely to please you as he pulls you all the way up to his face, positively cutting off his air supply in the process but he doesn’t care. he only suckles on your clit harder and with more pressure before switching to licking, abusing your puffy clit until you’re speechless and all that comes out of you are ah’s. “cumming, cumming— fuuckk . . !”

“cum on my tongue,” suguru manages to get out in between breaths, “give me all y’r cum, darling.”

those words are enough to send you over the edge, hitting your high with a soundless whine as your hips roll into his face and relentless torture, body continuing to convulse in his hold at the climax. if, before your continued praises sung God, now they were just full of father geto’s name, enunciated through the lips like a passionate blessing before mealtime. suguru, suguru, suguru, even Lucifer was ready to make ready his throne for the both of you.

“shit— sweet as always . .” father geto moans, slurping up all of your cum and making a mess, so much so that you’re giggling shyly at the lewd noises. you rest upon his heaving chest, noting wet patches that stain his black shirt — he came as well. “you treat me so good, don’t you, doll?”

your face twists, “i think i should be the one to say that, father geto.”

“don’t—”

“i like it. rolls off the tongue nicely,” you smirk, easily scooting downwards before settling your pulsing cunt onto his softening cock. but he knows you can get him up at any instance, just as you start grinding your clit along his shaft. the pleasure-filled moan he sounds out never gets old, echoed at the front of the Church of not, “father geto.”

all he shoots you is an unimpressed look, but he can’t keep his look up because the sight of you always inspires a thousand sermons and questions of morality.

“i like the dangerous aspect of it, father geto,” you reason with a sultry voice, grabbing his hardening dick and teasing his weeping tip along your folds. the both of you shiver. “it reminds me of how a holy man like you so easily fell for some pussy and got addicted to it.”

“pretty slut’s developing a dirty mouth,” he laughs, “carry on.”

“fucked a clueless, innocent girl in such a holy place,” you whined when his tip nudges past your pussy and into your gummy walls, spreading you open so deliciously.

“need my help?” you shake your head defiantly, sinking down slowly with calculated steps, gasps escaping your mouth as his cock continues to impale you inch by inch.

“and then claimed her right at the apse of the Church. on the altar, where bread is b-broken and wine is shared.” your eyebrows have knitted together from the pure stretch, descending down fully where you sit a little uncomfortably. no matter how many times you take him, he’s still big and full in you, needing a few moments to adjust as you wiggle your hips.

“can man prevent himself from chasing after his darkest desires?” father geto asks, bumping up his hips just a little and he grins at the little whine you let out.

“no, but God can,” you reason and yet you know you wouldn’t want anything to have changed between the two of you. you still would have wanted father geto’s downfall, you still would have wanted to see him stroking his cock behind the velvet curtains of the confession box.

you momentarily lock eyes with geto, drunk off the feeling of his length in you and the friction of your clit against his pelvis that you naturally gravitate towards him, feeling tired from all the grinding from earlier. he coos, receiving you without any judgement just like how a good priest should do and you feel most at home in his hug.

“what if my God is my darkest desire?” you barely make the connection before geto starts to thrust up into you, not too harshly but not too gently, either. you limp forward and just let him do the work, praising and worshipping you with every snap of his hips from below you.

“o-oh, baby, you’re so tight . .” suguru mumbles, littering kisses all over your neck and face while you struggle to keep yourself up, held up by your weak elbows as you try to meet his eyes. it’s the purple eyes you want to see as he fucks you dumb on his cock, full of lust and only on you as you drop all of your walls for him to enter. suguru tries his best, too, treating you as gently as he can out of the bedroom, which frankly isn’t much, but he tries. he brushes away your hair when it gets into your tongue during communion, he massages your knees in the rectory, he brings chocolate cake whenever he can.

he tries in the bedroom, too, but you are just too much for him. too much in the way that the devil’s whispers start to sound more and more like O Emmanuel and too much in the way he can feel the swell of his heart when even your name is mentioned. father geto doesn’t want to name it love, because in his position it will simply come off as manipulation, deceit.

father geto needs to know you are willing, too.

“father g-geto,” you whine, hands upon his face and sweat lining your brow, “faster, p-please—”

he chokes out a moan, “o-of course, sweetheart.”

you just feel so damn good, clenching so tightly around him that he cannot stop rutting his pelvis into you. he can feel the ripple of your ass with each thrust, the snugly fit tip hitting your g-spot ever so often to pull out the most beautiful moans from you. you’re both so wet and sloppy that you both can hear it — the squelching of your cunt paired with the pre-cum of his cock, mixing at your connected bodies in noisy pap! pap! pap!’s.

“s-suguruuu . . pleasepleaseplease.”

“whaddaya want, baby? words,” geto slurs as well, hips never stilling but now grinding in circles. his glutes and thighs burn but he won’t stop until you tell him what you want.

“i w-want your cum, inside me,” you mewl out like it’s a secret, like he hasn’t been cumming inside you for the past multiple times that you meet, “w-want you to breed me.”

suguru chuckles like it’s a dangerous bet, like he hasn’t emptied his balls deep in your pussy before, “you’re still on the pills, right, baby?”

ah . . the pills, that’s what you wanted to ask him to get more of at the beginning.

you nod hurriedly, “yes— i am, f-fuck—!”

“oh . . my darling’s close,” father geto grunts out, angling his hips so his cock reaches deeper in you, arms trapping you in an eternal embrace like Eve and the devil’s Serpent. you give him lazy, intoxicated kisses, sucking at the skin until there’s bound to be purple and he does the same to yours, albeit lighter.

“y . . yeah, i’m yours, suguru,” you whimper softly, voice breaking from the sheer pleasure once your hand sneaks in between to rub softly at your clit. you suck in a breath when both his cock and your hand find that sweet spot, moans suddenly overflowing into his neck with repeated “yes”’s and profanities until you cum with a cry of suguru’s name, juices spraying everywhere. it’s messy and filthy, your cum soaking his balls and staining the sheets.

“that’s it, thaaat’s it . . squirt all over my cock, baby,” geto continues to ram into your pussy as he praises, hips faltering in the slightest bit, “that’s a good girl.” it only makes you clamp down on his cock harder, making him hiss.

“i w-won’t last long, sweetheart—” he warns you but it’s not enough before he’s stilling in you, pupils blown wide as he shoots spurt upon spurt of hot cum into your cunt, filling you up to the brim as his cock twitches in you. you shiver at the feeling, breathing heavily in his arms as he continues to pump you full. slowly you recover but he stays plugged in, heading back to your position on elbows.

“she’s satisfied?”

you grin with a sigh, “very.”

“that’s all i ever want.” father geto smiles, gently bringing your head down for a gentle kiss on your lips. it turns heated soon enough, the gesture prompting your hips to move again on his very sensitive dick. but with the distant clack of shoe upon cobblestone that increases in volume, the both of you freeze.

“father geto?” it’s a boy’s voice, possibly one of the altar boys.

“what is it?”

the boy seemed to be relieved, as if stepping near the rectory was a sin in itself, “father nanami unfortunately can’t lead the night mass at eight tonight, will you be available?”

you shoot him a disappointed frown, but it is still his job after all. all he manages is a forehead peck.

“a-ah, yes, i am,” father geto thinks if it’s worth asking the next questions, “how many people usually show up to the night mass?”

“not too many, father geto, but it serves mostly the truckers and people in our town who have night shifts.”

you nod since you’ve never attended the night mass at all. father geto has conducted it; it was right on that fateful night where you had texted him about an unnamed confession.

“thank you, go in peace . .” geto shouts his reply and then looks at you with a small smile, speaking softly, “i have an idea.”

it’s only the afternoon when you make it back to your house for lunch before heading back out again like you planned with suguru earlier, following him from a safe distance until you’re out of earshot and sight of the congregation, even if no one was there. he kisses you gently in the sacristy, body pressed up against decades old of wooden cabinets and drawers. you have no idea what your priest has up his sleeve, so your eyes blindly follow his figure that brings out a toolbox proudly, taking out a hammer.

“don’t even know why the sacristy has a toolbox.”

“. . you’re insane,” your mouth drops open when he gives a hint of homily and sermon that you connect the dots, following him a little worried to the apse. there, stands the podium where he gives his readings and sermons, hands going straight for the board that’s nailed shut. turning the hammer around, using the claw at the back of it to remove the nails that hold it down, removing the nails of the lectern one by one with muscles bulking under his robes before it’s revealed.

“looks . .” he whistles lowly at the pristine condition of the wooden podium, “. . i forgot they gifted me a new podium when i transferred.”

“new priest privileges.” you nudge him in the side.

“i’m probably going to get transferred out soon, too,” he jokes with an arm around your waist, and in a perfect world, this would be the two of you looking at your newly built home in those terrible films. instead, you’re here, faced with temptation and sin.

“are you gonna be okay? we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to—” you cut him off with a hand to his crotch, sparing a glance towards the double doors. the church was small, yes, but there was still a good amount of people that attended it, even if the night mass garnered less.

“i’ll be okay, suguru. i’m wet just thinkin’ about it,” the other only hums at your revelation, bending down with you as you slot yourself into the dark place, pockets of light fighting to get in from the amateur job of the podium, “you better go prepare.”

“you’re a gem.” with a soft kiss to your forehead, father geto leaves just as the first parishioner shows up for mass: a whopping 43 minutes before the start of mass. you’re not surprised by the faith in this town, sometimes coming in to complete a rosary, do some extra prayers or partake in confession — but you realise you’re going to have to stay in this lectern for 43 minutes and more before he starts his homily. it’s a perfect fit, but trying not to rattle the box while adjusting yourself seemed to be the most difficult thing.

he had no helpers tonight, no altar boys, such a prime time to commit such a foul act in the eyes of God while he finishes up on the Gospel and you feel your fingertips tingling when he walks from the altar to the podium, dress shoes clicking against the wood of the floor of the rickety Church.

thank god the alb is huge and so is the podium, and thank god there aren’t any pews at the sides of the church. you know he spares some glances, too, so after a few moments of silence to reflect on the words of the Gospel, you’re lifting the alb right to where his boner was. you palm the area in wonder, at the clear sin of the act that you’re currently committing and this is all new to you apart from fucking when the place is empty.

“so big . .” it’s like he hears your whispers, cock twitching under your hold when you slowly remove it from his trousers, slotting his hardening dick through the boxers and zip hole without bringing too much attention. you trail your thumb over his tip that’s leaking pre, a difficult thing to see in such a dark place but you know it’s there when you kitten lick the mushroom tip.

you can hear a falter in his sermon, a stutter of words. leaning forward, you awkwardly switch onto your knees before wrapping your mouth around his length and it’s more clear now when you’re closer to the source of sound.

“. . ory of G-God, excuse me,” geto coughs as if he’s got something stuck in his throat, pulling at his chasuble that feels like choking him at the neck. your mouth continues its teasing, holding onto his thighs as you continue to suck on his fat cock. even now, you struggle to take it all in your mouth, pumping at the bottom while you bob your head. you can only pray that the broadcasted words of the sound system can cover up the obscene noises that your mouth makes.

“mmhh . . j—just, sorry,” the less-than-thirty church-goers don’t pay any mind when his hand snakes down from the top of the lectern toward you, offering his fingers and it’s like salvation after being stuck in there for God knows how long. you grasp at the hand, using your hand to stroke his shaft while you suck on his fingers. in a moment of bravery, you stick your head out as the other wills not to look down, but with a calculated glance to everyone that’s either asleep or zoning out, father geto rewards himself with one gaze while you switch from fingers to his cock.

“oh . .” he restricts himself before any pet name can escape, seeing your pliant mouth take all of him just like that first night but someone coughs and it snaps him out of the daydream, hand going back up.

“we should prioritise the Lord at every part of our day,” geto breathes heavily when he feels you deepthroat him, hands dripping the sides of the podium that you were sure the cheap wood would splinter under his grip. you focus on getting him in your mouth when he steps closer to you and you let out a small sound of surprise; he takes that small break to quickly bun up his hair, all wet from the sweat on his neck.

“mmf—!” there’s a small relief that leaves your priest’s mouth at having his tip hit the back of your throat, muttering a lot of uhm’s and repeated words. he wants to cum, and he wants to cum quick from how his hips thrust into your warm mouth, wanting to do away with conducting mass and to just be in your pliant pussy.

“. . a-and to make sure all our actions honour the Lord our Saviour,” his hips continue to move, continually buried up to the hilt in your mouth over and over as he fucks your mouth. you receive it willingly, hands taking action to play with his balls and that has his thighs tensing up. “and while you continue to live your life in praise—”

“f-fuck,” it’s whispered away from the microphone but you hear it, length twitching in response to your hands before you come off with to breathe. both hands stroke his cock while you suckle on the tip, driving him into insanity that he’s struggling to finish his sermon.

“you’ll be given the greatest graces in Heaven,” father geto shoots his cum down your throat and it’s so much, muscles pulled taut as he continues to buck his hips needily. you can feel him slump forward and out of breath while you continue to milk him and his words start to slur just a tad bit and while you clean him of his semen, you giggle to yourself under the podium as he gathers himself for another look down at you.

the final blow is how you stick out your tongue to show him the cum that’s left, a grin spreading that he just has to give you his hand again as you hold it gently, “—together in eternal life with God Almighty and Christ.”

“i hope i wasn’t too obvious on the lectern two weeks ago,” father geto laughs into your neck at your place, seemingly so long ago where he decided to step into your room and questioned your thesis on Paradise Lost. it felt like it was just last week he was bringing cake to your place, sitting in on dinner, walking with you around the town. now you sit in his lap in the living room of your house, unassuming because of the five day vacation that your parents decided to take. your mother stayed with your father for what, you never could figure out, but with the baby dropped off at the family across the street (your mother knew you’d be busy with university work) and them out to the next town, you did what every university student would do.

you sneaked priest geto in on sunday night, letting him take you on every surface he knew you’d spread your legs for him on, and now sat, freshly showered and the television turned down to a low, you could only hope this was what a life of matrimony could look like. all the dreams and fancy stories your mother tells you, you think you could twist this sick relationship and forbiddenness into something normal for at least five days if you convince yourself enough.

“you were stuttering on every sentence,” you mumble into his hair that starts to smell more and more like yours, arms encircled around his neck while he sits in a mere singlet. “you like my mouth too much.”

“ego te adoramus.” father geto hums quietly, pulling away from the embrace as he looks up at you and he sighs. if only he had found you sooner before starting his theology degree, before he could hear God’s call for him into priesthood. he would be happy being your childhood friend, anything.

“do you ever wish you weren’t a priest?”

geto swallows, brushing away the strands from your face and adjusts you on his lap, “sometimes.”

“my parents were open with my choice, as they always are, but they valued how much i liked to explore and try new things. they only said that i should choose this path carefully because they knew time is something that no one can get back,” he explains, hands stroking your sides carefully and you let yourself dream that you were just a normal couple, “some friends were weird about it, telling me i would miss having sex and whatnot, but i still value my relationship with God and the many things i’ve learned from my journey in the seminary.”

“but?”

“i didn’t expect to . . meet someone like you so soon,” suguru laughs when you shout a small hey!, feigning annoyance, “someone so bright, and loving and kind. someone that embodies what Jesus and the Church stands for, and something i’ve never seen in ages. unconditional compassion.”

“your praise is too heavy,” you swat away his hand, only attributing your disposition to your mother’s exemplary way of raising you, “is simple kindness that hard to see?”

“you shadow a lot of priests in conducting masses, baptising people, giving first communions, and you see a lot of personalities — some that are vile for people that regularly go to Church. it’s disheartening to see Christians who are clearly wrapped up in their privilege and pride and think they’re the most important religion to exist. you hear it in history books, through word of mouth.” geto looks just like a boy, frustrated with the world that he lives in that a scowl settles into his features and his hands ball fabric into tight fists.

you manage to relax him a little, running your thumbs over his face and hands; he twines his fingers with yours. “i thought that if i went in, i could at least try to reshape the community. bit by bit, open their minds about abortion, about the queer community, but it is proving hard when the first church you’re transferred to is a small town.” that gets a giggle out of you.

“you’re not wrong, suguru, for trying your hardest. it’s so admirable. i’m trying to unlearn things about the Church that my mom has taught me too, and it’s all interesting reads alongside my second year of uni. if you can change one mind, there’s the potential to change many others.”

geto lets you rest your forehead on his, closing his eyes to just feel you, “thank you.”

he’s not even sure when to tell you that he’s fallen in love, the hardest he’s ever done since in high school with his first love, or in university studying theology, and he’s not even sure it’s love. all he knows is that when he looks at you, a life until silver hair is all he can think about.

“you can do it,” you break the ice softly, placing a peck on his lips, “i believe in you.”

“i don’t think they would wanna believe a sex-crazed priest, darling, not when i wanna give you the life you deserve.”

you sigh, hiding your face, “i don’t think we can achieve that, suguru, not while you’re still married to the Church and i’m supposed to be celibate.”

“that’s out the window—” and he laughs when you slap him on the bicep, finding that you’d want him to laugh more. he does it sometimes when he gives sermons, recounting a specific story about his mother, or while baptising a baby. it’s pure like a young boy’s laughter, something to be protected, the way his eyes crinkle and lips stretch . .

“what if i break priesthood for you?”

what?

“no . .” you brows furrow, “don’t say stuff like that.”

“why not, my love?” you continue to shake your head, standing from your place on his lap and he’s confused — wouldn’t you want this?

“don’t call me that—” your safe space, your room is the only place all you can think in, and you escape to it before he can catch a thread of your clothing. father geto calling you that means he’s officially fallen, chained to the river Styx. the descent was fun, but you didn’t want to be the reason why he’d truly throw away all of his hard work, you didn’t want him to be shamed, nor did you want to be called out for being a temptress. self-serving while serving others — maybe that’s how Christians operated and you were the walking proof of it.

geto thinks he’s messed up big time and unsure of the reason why as he lets you stay in your room to cool down. he only sends out a text simply to check on you, but it takes you an hour before you’re ready; once he hears the click of your door, he’s heading up the stairs and pushing open the door gently.

just like that first night, he’s cautious when he enters your room as if touching your sacred place will have him reciting rosaries as penance, as an apology for staining your heart and your body. you stand.

“i don’t want you to leave everything behind just for me . .” you sound out, sniffling softly and the priest’s heart already shatters at the sound, “all your hard work, the years you did in the seminary and then just dumping it all just for a chance with a woman who you don’t even know whether will be suitable as your lover.”

geto’s expression softens in the dark room, only illuminated by fluorescent light from your bedside table lamp — “i won’t leave anything behind; all those years, all the studies, all of it mattered because somehow it still led me to you. if that isn’t God’s doing, i don’t know what else it was. my definition of Christianity has been entirely reimagined, entirely changed when i look at you, a person filled with nothing but pure lovingness and soft-heartedness and yet i still feel proud when you said you wished harm on your father because i know that Christ didn’t ask men to gouge their eyes out for nothing.”

he grabs your hands, stroking the back of your palms and stepping close to you as much as you will let him. suguru plants feather-like kisses onto skin before continuing, “i will always carry my Christianity with me, the shame, its history and if i fall, so be it. Lucifer had fallen many times after, crouching by Eve’s ear to whisper sin, turning into a serpent to give her the forbidden fruit, sentenced to rule Hell because he himself is Hell.”

“and are you dragging me down with you?”

“i have been dragged to the darkest pits of Hell from the moment i saw you, and if anything, while i worship God, i cannot ignore the olive branch that you hold out to me like a saving grace, like you ascend the same pedestal that the Trinity sits on.”

you swallow, eyes breaking contact and he’s quick to rectify that, both palms on your cheeks and your face is tilted upwards.

“our God will always be there for repentance if you wish so, but allow me to indulge in the blasphemy and filthiness and sacrilege of craving someone so desperately that my body burns from thinking about her and my knees want to strike the Earth whenever she’s around me.”

the sentence takes you aback before he’s leaning forward, but abruptly stops short— it’s rushed, can i kiss you?

“yes. yes, suguru—”

and he kisses you with the force of a thousand suns and the most detrimental winds of the pacific, arms going from your face right to your body as he wraps you in his love. geto deepens the kiss just as he always has, but the feelings that spark in you differ greatly from just mindless kissing during sex. it’s full of passion, full of possibly everything he’s kept bottled up as he walks you to your bed, yelping in surprise when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“do you still have your pills, my love?”

your fingers bunch up the same sweater he wears on the first day, “i . . ran out . . a while ago.”

“i’m surprised those pills work even after i cum so much in you,” that really draws a hearty laugh from your stomach, “but whatever happens, i’ll be here.”

“the feeling’s just too good—” you giggle, squealing when father geto lifts you off the floor and puts you on the bed.

“if you test positive, and if you want to keep it or abort it, i’m okay,” geto hovers over you, looking at you with so much love you wonder how you miss it the many times you’ve been together, “i’ll support you in everything that you do.”

a peak of silver shines in the moonlight under his sweater and you realise this feels like the first time you lost control over your lust, the first time you touched yourself. like heeding a call, his crucifix falls from the safety of his sweater and almost hits you in the face if not for suguru pulling away in worry.

“was it just like this?” he teases with a small smirk, knees already nudging your legs apart, “you imagined me fucking you with this dangling in your face?” your face heats up at the mention, at the fact he still manages to remember that confession and you nod whilst biting your lip. 

“well, you get to live it now,” geto grins, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before having his way with you.

and have his way did he — you aren’t even sure what round you’re on at the moment, simply subjected to getting you face smushed into your pillow as he pounds into you from behind. geto grunts as he eases his cum-filled cock back into your sweet cunt, hands travelling everywhere over your sweaty back.

“are you okay, baby?”

you turn your head with arms still buried in the pillow, a cock drunk smile on your face, “splendid.”

“goin’ in— shiit . .” geto sinks into you easily, your mixed juices proving easy before getting himself right up to the hilt. his mouth hangs open in pleasure, pants leaving both your lips before he starts to thrust and the wetness is just straight-up obscene. with a wordless tug, father geto brings you close to him, wrapping an elbow around your neck while the other settles for your tummy, feeling the muscle that curls around you. he doesn’t trap you so tightly, simply holding your limp body up as his pelvis rams into you.

“your pussy’s just so good, darling,” he mutters into your neck as your head tilts back in ecstasy while your body trembles in geto’s hold.

“s’full, suguru . .” you whine, hands flailing for his toned arms that encircle your body while he thrusts, cum spilling from where you were connected onto your sheets. it was a blessing your parents were out because father geto doesn’t hold back with the way he fucks you, voice carrying throughout the house and permeating the walls that you hoped the neighbours wouldn’t hear.

going for multiple rounds meant the two of you were highly sensitive, jolting when his hand sneakily drew circles along your clit and matched his pace, while his length in you kept twitching and pulsing from the way your gummy walls wrap around him. “s-suguru — i need you, p-please—”

“i’m here, sweetheart,” geto chokes out, hand wrapping around the expense of your neck and turning your face, indulging himself in a sinful kiss that you return immediately. tongue and saliva is everywhere, hands and hips never slowing down when it comes to you and your sweet pussy. “i’m here, always, amie.”

“i’m gonna c— fuck— shit,” you tighten around his cock at the name, moaning into his mouth like a mantra, like a mystery that cannot be solved as he cums with a guttural groan into you and you shiver from the feeling of him filling you that you forget all about your own pleasure, body shaking with mini orgasms instead. “lay forward . .”

it’s softly spoken, and you obey, eyes fluttering close when he pulls out slowly and geto’s fixated on the drip of his cum that falls from your pussy. flipping you over instantly, he smears your juices together and all over your centre, smiling at how your legs close in on each other at the sensitivity. his tip’s filled with your cum, a messy painting of your repeated rounds.

“you’re the most stunning right here,” he breathes out as he rests on his calves, cock still hard. his hand trembles as he strokes himself, moaning softly at the warmth that he misses already and he’s brought to attention again when you whimper softly. you’re fingers play lazily with your folds, finger rubbing circles into your clit and all he can think about is pumping you full of his cum again when you look at him from under your eyelashes, with a subtle pout and the plea of the eye.

“fuck me again, father geto,” you mumble, “fuck me until i’m full of your cum.”

the priest only grunts lowly at that, trailing his angry tip along your pussy and collecting your juices before slipping in. the both of you gasp at the sensation, more of you when his hands close around your knees and push. he’s forcing your legs right up to your chest the same time he enters you, sending you deeper into desperation that you writhe on the bed.

“ohh . . tha’s a perfect pussy right there . .” suguru slurs, body pushed against your bent legs as his cross swings back and forth like an omen, like a crow watching your movements, “will you be mine, my darling?”

your voice comes out in high-pitched whines at his question, so intimate, so loving in such a dirty space. you can only manage nods when he starts to move, this new position allowing him to reach much, much deeper into you that you preen at the overwhelming feelings that bubble in your chest.

“yesyesyes! r-right there, suguru—” your back arches off your childhood bed, where you first prayed, where you first read the Bible, where you did your homework, where you first fingered yourself, all overthrown by the sheer blasphemy that geto suguru wished to indulge in, and you give it to him just like that, “f-fuck! love your cock in me, father!”

“o-oh . . you’re playing a dangerous game, c-calling me that, baby,” his eyes also struggle to stay open, committing your pleasure-filled face to memory as your jaw slacks and your eyes roll back. he can see your tits move with his rough thrusts as well, licking his lips while feeling you fuck him back, “are you close?”

“mhmm—” you’re humming, mumbling incoherent sentences at this point as your mind fogs at the neck-deep euphoria you were in. with the room that’s filled with sex to the nasty, sloppy noises of his balls hitting your ass, and soaking wetness that can be heard from a mile away, the both of you are lost to the claws of Hell. geto knows you’re close with the way your cunt tightens and your breathing escalates, using his thumb to rub at your clit and now you truly feel like you’re going insane.

“c-close . . haah—” your eyes try to stay open to look at the sight above you: messy-haired and body lined with sweat, the beautiful entity of abstinence and temptation all in one person. you fumble with his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer so you can admire him up close while he drives you to your high. the moment of vulnerability only spurs geto on, drawing out the brutal, carnal need he has for you.

“is that it? you wanted this?” he grunts out through gritted teeth, “you wanted me to fuck your pussy until it knows the shape of my cock?” the words muttered sends goosebumps throughout your body. you nod, “you wanted me to defile this pretty pussy so no one else can fuck you, isn’t that right?”

you whimper at the words as he pushes your legs further into your chest, “cum on my cock, darling.”

and you do. generous with it, you’re gushing all over his length as he continues fucking you through your overstimulation, thumb slowing its ministrations on your puffy clit as he chases his own climax. “taking my cock so well, so good like the good slut she is,” the other says through a small grin, hips stuttering when you give him a small yeah in return.

“another load for you, baby,” father geto groans out loudly before he switches to quick, fast thrusts into your warm, welcoming pussy before cumming with a whine, shooting thick ribbons of white deep into your womb. your moans are swallowed by geto as he continues to fill you to the brim, painting your insides and enjoying your slow, needy kisses.

“she’s had her fill,” you mumble softly, feeling sleepy while the other only hums in agreement. slowly, geto lets your legs down which only plop down on the bed, unsheathing himself from you and relishing in the way the cum dribbles out, glob after glob of cum leaving your pussy and onto the sheets, “are you okay, suguru?” he takes your shaky hand, interlocking your fingers with his as he scoots up to you, closer until he’s just over you.

“always better with you here.” you roll your eyes, tugging on the crucifix and pulling him into you where your lips collide, feeling him collapse by your side even as your mouths continue their movements. all you do is smother each other with hands, one through his sweaty locks and his grabbing your waist. you want to live through the feeling of his front against yours for eternity, deepening the kiss with your tongue and moaning softly when his fingers squeeze your ass secretly.

“you just stay here and i’ll clean you up,” with one last peck to your temple, father geto navigates your house like he lives there, getting a rag and wetting it before he cleans you up gently, fabric travelling along your skin like a kiss of hellfire as he massages your legs, your arms. there’s a multitude of things before the two of you succumb to slumber, going to the toilet, grabbing something to eat and then wallowing in some late night conversations (“do you think you find me in other universes?” / “i’ll find you in every one.”) until finally, you two settle in each other’s arms.

it’s like a still painting that would be studied by future literature students, scrutinised by art critics all over the world of a sacrilegious relationship that should not have place for love, that should not have place for purity, but the feeling of geto suguru’s arms from behind wound tightly and protectively around your physique feels like both the good and bad of the secular world. love and lust can coexist.

just as father geto worships, your luggage is quickly packed up a few weeks later alongside a pregnancy test that looks awfully reminiscent of the cross in the church. picture frames emptied, laptop and papers packed, a barren land of what used to be the place of a God-serving, holy girl — and even if knowledge caused her downfall, she was more than willing to own up to it. the room looked larger and drab with everything gone; you aren’t even sure how you fit everything into the luggage.

the fallen angels watch over your encounters with crinkles of the paper of your farewell letter, the squeaky floorboards, and the atmosphere of the night sounding like vacuum from its sheer silence as you snuck out of the house and into the stark night, hands clasped within each other’s while gravel below your feet reminded you of your situation. you weren’t sure if you were walking to salvation or away from it, but at least you knew Eden was by your side, with the lavender scent of your shared shampoo on both your heads and his saccharine words.

after walking for what felt like forever to avoid detection, geto waves excitedly to a car in the distance which seemed to house two men — one blonde that looks awfully like father nanami and the other, a white-haired man.

“i called up some friends,” suguru brings your connected hands to his lips and his tired eyes soften even further, pressing soft pecks along your fingers and face. your priest catches you in a sensual kiss, humming into it and mumbling sweet nothings that sound just like Lucifer in Eve’s ear, but you’re too enamoured with the sparks you leave on one another to notice the commencement of your coronation at Pandæmonium.

“we’ll be okay, amie. ego te amo ut dum stellae luceant.”

“Rise, then, to the thrones of Moloch and Paimon, of Belial and Beelzebub, of the infamous angel who challenged his Creator and clawed his way from the Stygian pool to Pandæmonium made of demon blood and soot-filled fingertips. Rise to Lucifer, and take your rightful place on the throne overflowing with hate and vice and villainy, and rule Hell just as how he would’ve wanted it.”

a/n: another insane piece .. pls dont look / tagging @mysugu @slttygeto @screampied @suguruplsr @na-t0 @peachsayshi

[weclassygirl]

control

⋆˙⟡ sauron x fem!elf!reader (witch) ⟡˙⋆

summary: reader tests the limits of her powers while Celebrimbor slowly loses his sanity, Lord of Gifts is more than pleased

warnings: mind manipulation, smut (under illusion), exhibitionism, p in v, oral

word count: +4,2k

author’s note: had a month off of writing due to stuff at work but i'm back! i think we have two or three more parts until the series finishes. for now enjoy! (previous part -> wonders)

In the coming days you’ve had your time to work on your power. Creeping the dreadful thoughts into Celebrimbor’s mind and soon the smiths around him. You worked in moderation, mostly to test your forgotten strength and to craft new spells, suitable for your needs.

You would sneak out at night from the comfort of your chambers, simply to mess with the guards posted at the towers and the gates. They never saw you when you passed just before their eyes, their minds clouded by your spell, leaving you a faint current of air, blending with the night. 

Sauron noticed your escapades after a few nights, while you borrowed or rather stole ingredients from the various studies of the Elves. You planned to save your powers for a more demanding situation, Celebrimbor could still be controlled within your grasps. 

“Making tea?” Annatar asks as he stands in the doorway. Your head snaps towards him, startled at first but now slightly annoyed that you’ve been caught. Even by him. 

“I believe Celebrimbor should appreciate it.” you say and close the drawer you were rummaging in, the small satchel filled with dried herbs in the palm of your hand. Annatar stays still as he watches you and notices the sleeping guards on the table. His eyebrow raised but there’s a hint of amusement in his expression. 

“Your work, I assume.” 

“You assume correctly.” you say and walk past him and to the hallway. You put the satchel away into your bag, some glass jars brush against each other make a subtle noise that echoes down the hall. For any wiser they would think it could be stolen ale or any other variety of wines. 

Annatar walks by your side, glimpsing at the contents of the bag. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on making him fear the future, rather than expanding his taste for tea?”

You stop and look up at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

He gives you a soft smile and brushes away a strand of your hair that has fallen before your eyes. „I do, however with the recent nights you seem to have been preoccupied with the matters that are not at hand.” 

You tilt your head at the subtle accusation. 

„Your plans are safe with me and my own only start to bloom.” you tell him but he does not seem convinced. „You need Celebrimbor for this to work, I shall grant his mind to your bidding.” 

He seems to consider but it your words do not ease his mind. „Good. I expect nothing less.” he leaves you standing in the hallway, the darkness engulfing his silhouette as he disappears at the end of it. You scoff under your breath. 

It’s true, the recent days have been preoccupied with your own work rather than Annatar’s and you cherished it whenever you felt the power flowing through your veins. You haven’t used it in such quantity, at such expense, your muscles forgot the feeling and your mind almost the spells you have spent years learning. 

Almost. Not anymore. 

You wanted to stand by his side when Eregion fell, when all of Middle-Earth was brought to its knees before you but you couldn’t help but feel as if this affection the two of you have towards each other would fade as soon as he came victorious. You were ashamed to have these kind of thoughts but paranoia went hand in hand with creeping insanity. 

This was your idea, power over flesh, you reminded yourself, he simply perfected it. 

Even now as the Elves and Dwarves celebrated their mutual work in the forge, you stood to the side with other smiths as he remained by the stairs with Mirdania by his side. He knew you were watching, jealousy creeping in while with each passing day she seemed to try and get into his good graces. What kind of Elf wouldn’t when they had the emissary of the Valar right in their home? 

You listened to Celebrimbor’s speech with one ear and sipped at the wine in your hand. You saw Annatar ascending the stairs and felt the slight embarrassment rising in Lord of Eregion as he left the festivities. You went to pour yourself another glass as the one in your hand laid empty when you heard their conversation. 

„It is a game you play, is it not?” Celebrimbor asks him and for a moment you think your spells may have been too harsh. 

Good. 

„Sowing seeds in others’ minds and then convincing them that the fruit is of their own thought.” he continues and you falter in your movements. Could he have noticed? Surely not. You were careful, working gradually to make his mind to your will. 

Annatar, as always, was persistent. Rings for Men, nine of them… If the High King ever heard of it, if he saw what was happening in his most trusted smith’s forge. 

He keeps your gaze as he descends the stairs, announcing that he will forge them himself. Annatar returns to the smiths, Mirdania awfully close to him but your focus shifts to Celebrimbor. You walk up the stairs and join him on the balcony. 

„My Lord, are you well?” you ask, your voice an illusion of soft and caring. 

He turns to look at you with a smile. „Can I speak plainly?” that makes your head tilt to the side. 

„Of course.” you respond and see him looking behind him as if he’s afraid of anyone listening. 

He takes a shaky breath. „Do you truly believe the Valar would have sent someone here, to Eregion of all places, to aid in crafts of a simple smith?” 

You might be loosing him. Fuck. 

„I believe that the Valar are most gracious, especially when it comes to sending an emissary.” you reply with as much honesty as you can conjure up.

„Yes, however I cannot help but wonder if there is something our Lord of Gifts is not telling us?” 

„You think that he’s been hiding something from you?” you ask, the worry truthful in your voice. Your hands behind your back move slightly, easing into the smith’s mind, changing his view of Annatar. 

Celebrimbor steps away from the balcony and whispers. „It is a foolish thought and yet…” 

You step closer and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the invisible spell creeping even closer to him. „My Lord, I believe you’ve grown weary from the recent days. Lord Annatar has showed us nothing but the perfection of our craft, helped us— you, see what we can achieve for the good of all Middle-Earth.” you tell him and he slowly nods at your words, his hand goes over his face in a languid motion. 

„Celebrate, this is the night for the Elves and the Dwarves.” you try to lighten the mood. „Perhaps I should make you something to drink, to ease your mind?” you ask and see him nod. You smile and go ahead to prepare the special brew. 

You leave the main floor of the forge and go to the back to the small kitchen. Soon enough Annatar joins you as you mix the ingredients. 

„You let him slip from your grasps.” he says as a welcome and you lean against the counter to face him. 

„I had it under control.” you say and he steps closer. „You wouldn’t know since you were quite busy caring for what the other smiths think of you.” 

He looks confused but his eyes tell a different story. He knew who you were talking about and yet he could not phantom why you would react this way. „Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” he states and places his hands on both sides of you, trapping you against him and the counter. „Why would a witch whose seen the terrors and wonders of this world care so much for a mere Elf that simply crossed her path?” 

„She seemed to enjoy your presence near her.” you respond. „If you asked her to kneel and suck your cock in front of the others she would do so without hesitation.” the words vile on your tongue. 

Annatar leans closer, his breath on your ears, his lips kissing the pointed tip and you try not to shudder under feeling. „Would you?” he asks you as the kettle starts to whistle. „Your illusions and tricks in front of the guards were quite impressive. You passed before them like a wind, never had them raise their weapons or sound the alarms.” 

His hand reaches up to your jaw, pressing a short kiss to your lips. You melt against him, finally giving in to the rising tension that’s been tip toeing around you two for the past few days. You’ve shared passing kisses away from prying eyes since that day by the pond but nothing more. Your craft consumed your time and his as well. 

Perhaps it was a time for a much needed change. 

His hand wanders down your arms, his touch hot against your skin as he caresses the fabric near your hip. You’re too far gone to realize his hand grabbed the whistling kettle, pouring the tea you’ve been preparing for Celebrimbor. His touch is gone as he hands you the cup. 

„You shouldn’t keep him waiting.” he says and leaves you wanting for more. You curse under your breath but gather yourself before bringing the cup to Celebrimbor. 

You watch him sip on the warm liquid with a soft smile on his face and you know his mind begins to make room for the torments you’ll be sure to give him. The Lord of Gifts steals glances at you when Mirdania comes by his side, aiding him in cleaning up the table from shards of metal and tools. The whole forge could be burning and his sight would be solely focused on you. You feel him prodding at your mind and glare at him when he shows you lewd scenes that bring a blush to your face. 

„Are you well?” Celebrimbor asks you when your mind takes you elsewhere. 

„Uhm, yes.” you look to Annatar from the gallery. „Excuse me for a moment.” you say and march towards him. You let your spell work as you create an illusion around the forge. You simply walking up to the Lord of Gifts as he talks to the Dwarves but in your reality your lips crash to his. It takes him by surprise since he did not think you would do it. The illusion created by the pond was of his making, he was glad to see yours at work. 

You doubted your strength at times but now it never faltered as Annatar kissed down your neck. You could hear the faint conversation he held through the illusion but did not dare to do all the work for you. You conversed with the Dwarves with whatever sensibility you could produce. 

It didn’t help when Annatar went down on his knees and kissed a path under your dress. He pushed whatever garments you had aside and dived in like a starved man. Your folds parting at the single swipe of his tongue. You reached to hold on to the table as the conversation continued under your spell. Narvi joked about stealing jewels and you feigned laughter if only to hide your wretched moans. 

Annatar smiled against you and you grabbed at his golden locks, pulling him away from you. His eyes darkened as you pulled him up and tasted yourself on his lips. He stepped back, leaning against the table while you pushed his robe aside, your earlier conversation recalling in your head. 

His thumb swipes against your lip as you kneel in front of him. His lips part at the featherlike kiss to his red tip. Your mouth works a rhythm that has him groaning like one of his old beasts, you rejoice in the sound that only fuels to the fire. 

The conversation under your spell goes steady, no one suspects a thing but what a thrill it was for someone to find out. For a moment you wish for all of them to see the two of you in this vulgar position, Mirdania’s face flushed and wanting at the sight, Celebrimbor’s in shock but perhaps desire. The Lord of Gifts had his effect on people and many wished to share the pleasure you were giving him. 

You lick at his shaft, veins pulsing under your tongue at his incoming release. His hands cradle your jaw and press at your throat, just to feel his member inside it. You moan around him and the vibrations send him spiraling, speaking right down your throat and pushing you against his abdomen. You choke but the pleasure of it doesn’t go unnoticed. 

He pulls you away from him and pushes his come further down your throat, his fingers pressing against your tongue. You feel yourself getting wetter by the seconds and he does too as his fingers swipe at your silk. 

„Mairon…” you moan and kiss up his neck. His head falls back as he whispers your name in return. His hand snakes around your waist and lifts you up, his lips never leaving yours as he carries you to the anvil. 

The smiths and Dwarves feel a slight breeze as the two of you move through the room. Your conversation with the smiths continues as Annatar speaks with Celebrimbor and the Dwarves. His words displaying a somewhat of an interest in the topic at hand, whereas the smiths notice your mind elsewhere.  

„Are you with us? You zoned out.” one of them asks as Annatar brings his cock closer to your weeping cunt.

You nod and glare at Annatar, as if it’s a silent challenge between the two of you. Who will sound first? He pushes into you mercilessly and draws back before plunging again. The sweet mewl comes out of your mouth when he sets a rhythm that makes you spiral and for a moment your illusion falters. The sound of your moans echoes in the forge, ever so slightly. 

The smiths look around at the faint sound and thankfully dismiss it. Annatar grins as he captures your lips, you pull at his hair, your eyes filled with fire and desire. 

„Damn you.” you say and his hips move faster. 

„Do not curse me yet, witch.” he warns. „Who would have given you so much pleasure if I were gone?” he snaps his hips and brings you closer to your release. 

His hand draws circles around your clit, heightening your senses. The delicious feel of his cock against the walls of your cunt, pulling him deeper and closing in closer. He could get drunk off of you in seconds and let everyone see his queen. 

„Fuck… Mairon.” you curse as you near your release. Annatar brings your lips to his, his tongue mixing with yours. 

„Say it again.” he pleads against your lips.

You bring up a hand to his cheek. „Mairon.” 

His name a moan on your tongue as his movements falter, your cunt fills to the brim with his spent and out of you. 

He stays still inside you, prolonging your release, relishing in the feel of you. He’ll stay in this moment until the Elves have moved to the Undying Lands if he could. 

The illusion hasn’t dropped yet and you both look around, breathing heavily with a wicked smile. 

Annatar looks down at you. „I believe you have bested yourself, witch.” the Elves chatter around you and your eyes shine with power.

You smile to yourself. „My best work yet.”

The next few days you hear the concerns about the Dwarven rings from Durin the Younger and focus your spells on the smiths. Surely his most trusted Elves would give him a valuable piece of mind. Annatar became distant towards Celebrimbor as he continued to reject his proposition to forge the Rings for Men. Even as you and Mirdania were trying to resize the new design and the two of you vanished from the eyes of the other smiths. Celebrimbor heard the commotion and immediately came up to the smiths. He saw the hammer levitating from the table, his eyes widened. 

„Do my eyes deceive me?” he questioned. Annatar stepped closer. 

„No. We were casting a new design for a Ring. Attempting to resize it when…” the hammer began to fly across the room, to them it was an invisible force but to you…

You saw the forge, completely dark, the fire bursting from it and saw Mirdania’s panicked expression as she struggled to come back to the world. 

You’ve never encountered the Unseen World but you couldn’t say that you haven’t wished to see it. 

The raw power it gave you, made you feel as if you and that energy were as one. The things you could do once you possessed it… and there was a possibility for it. 

You lifted your hand to try and hone that power and it gladly clung to you. The soft whisps curled around your hand and gather at your feet, whispering to you in Black Speech the ancient spells you wished to know. You flicked your hand slightly and the power bursted from you, making the anvil nearly fall on the heads of the smiths.

Mirdania looked your way but you could not say what she saw, her face frightened. Annatar stood behind you and you felt his presence stronger than ever. Pure and dark, the perfect balance between his past and present self. 

Lord of Eregion came up to the woman, grabbing the hammer that divided them and managed to take the ring off of her as you remained in the shadows. The feeing started to become too overwhelming, the power stirring inside you and soon enough the forge began to burn brighter once more, the lanterns shaking as your magic wished to free itself from its bounds. 

„What happened?” you heard the muffled voice of Celebrimbor as Mirdania looked around. As she started to describe the Unseen World, she mentioned two figures, shrouded in darkness and you felt Annatar tense ever so slightly. “It came toward me, breathing, reeking of death, and I saw—” she takes a shaky breath. “I saw its eyes, pitiless and eternal.” 

Mirdania studies her surrounding, panic settles in. „Where is she?” she asks when she notices you haven’t come back. Everyone looks around and Annatar grabs a hold of your arm as it brushes against yours, taking the ring off of your finger. 

You come back to the forge, your eyes closing at the bright light of it and Annatar helps you up as you struggle to keep your footing. He looks down at you and knows what the Unseen World has shown you, he knows that look in your eye. As if that world, its essence was your personal drug. 

Celebrimbor calls out your name and sees you visibly shaken by the accident. His eyes dart towards your hands, a subtle hint of black showing on your fingertips. Annatar seems to notice the concern as Lord of Eregion approaches you like a startled animal. 

You look down to your hands and try to shake off the lingering feeling but it becomes too overwhelming. The smiths stare at you as you try to gather yourself. 

You curse under your breath. Not again. 

Years ago Celebrimbor informed the High King whenever you showed a sign of turning to the dark arts. This was while in chains, fulfilling your punishment in Eregion. You were free now and the order given that day was clear. 

Killed by the archers the moment you show a sign of turning back. 

You look to the guards posted at the door, their hands lowering down to their bows but Celebrimbor gestures for them to stand down. He calls out your name one more time. 

„What did you see?” 

You look up at him and try to form a coherent sentence. „It— such darkness, the sheer existence of it… I have never encountered something… like that.” you say and look to Annatar that offers up his arm for you to lean on. 

You see Mirdania looking at the two of you so close to each other. If it weren’t for your fatigued state you would have rejoiced in her reaction. Something she could never have. 

Before Celebrimbor responds, the Lord of Gifts interrupts him. „The two of you should take a respite.” he says as he looks between you and Mirdania. Celebrimbor’s mind spins with questions. 

“What did you do differently this time?” he asks you. 

You pull away from Annatar’s grasps. “We sought to fortify the alloy by adding more mithril.” the backlash from Celebrimbor comes quickly and you step aside, hands hidden in your sleeves but still able to have the Lord of Eregion loose his thoughts.

“No, no. If you’d wanted to do that you should’ve…” your spell is quick, making Celebrimbor doubt his words, look as if years of his work and knowledge become forgotten with time. It’s all so easy.

Annatar looks to his friend, worried and proud. “It would save us immeasurable hours of toil if you would offer this one, single word of counsel.” 

He doesn’t speak, his mind in silent battle within. You let go of your spell, rejoining the other smiths and put the ring away. “You should—” Celebrimbor speaks but the guard interrupts him. During the Younger arrived from Khazad-dûm, voicing his worry about the Rings. 

“I will see what he wants.” Annatar is quick to step in but Celebrimbor stops him. 

“No.” he gives him a short smile. “No. I will go.” he gives him the ring.

Once Celebrimbor leaves you step closer to Annatar. „And I’m the one who’s losing him?” you whisper.

He grins, subtly but enough for you to notice. „Do not fret. Everything goes accordingly.” 

„In your mind perhaps.” the other smiths go back to their stations, you see Mirdania from the corner of your eye, watching your interaction. She may not hear what transpires between the two of you but she notices the lingering touch of Annatar’s hand on your arm. 

The others return to their work while you observe from the balcony, you notice that Durin will not be easily swayed as he gets a first hand glimpse of what the Rings can do to one’s mind. You’ve noticed how the smiths started to avoid you once again as the Unseen World remains in you. Pulling you further into your craft, you wish you could simply let it flow out of your fingertips, curl around the world and be yours and yours alone. There are more guards in the forge now, carefully watching you. 

You hear Annatar speak with Mirdania, charming her with his words. 

„It pains me to say, for what you saw, I did not wish for any of you to see until I had helped him to heal.” he admits and Mirdania narrows her eyes.

 „You... You speak of... Lord Celebrimbor?” she couldn’t believe it but she did suspect. 

Annatar looks towards the door as if he could see Celebrimbor through them. „Yes. The toll that creation has exacted from him in crafting the Three and the Seven has left him diminished. Vulnerable to the shadow.” he focuses on you for a moment. 

Mirdania chooses to speak her mind, the thought that has been bothering her. „Do you think that…” she looks at you, facing away from her on the balcony. „That she could have strayed once again?” 

„We cannot outrule the possibility. However, she’s strong, she learned how to… push aside that craving.” he begins and takes her hand. „I do need you to promise me that you will not speak to anyone about this.” 

She gives him a nod. „Of course, my Lord.”

The Elven smith leaves his side, the night settling into the forge. Celebrimbor has finally seen how demanding the creation of the Rings is. He could not imagine the disdain to his name under the deception of the letter he has sent to the High King. Forging the rings he had not consented to. It is a pity to see him slowly descend into madness but your power thrives off of it. 

Annatar visits you in your chambers as you try to recreate the power you felt in the Unseen World. He observes as the tears well in your eyes. 

You know he’s watching but you’re way past caring. „It was so beautiful. So raw, not— not veiled by the fog.” you say softly. Annatar sits beside you and grabs your hand. He has never seen you like this, yes he saw how you could get when you were hellbent on getting what you want but this time it was different. The past few days wash away with a single squeeze of his hand, there’s no demand to continue with his plan, not when you need him the most. 

„Then why the tears?”

You sniffle. „I couldn’t have it. I would never be able to reach that state.” 

„You could.” he puts his fingers under your chin and wipes away at your tears. You shake your head. 

„I want this to be my own power, not derived from yours.” you admit and he knows how much you wished for it. Years in Forodwaith, in your cottage in Greenwood spent to perfect it. 

He taught you as much as he could and still it wasn’t enough. 

Perfection takes time.

Sacrifice. 

You’ve had plenty. 

[choccy-milky]

seb and clora working on baby #1 👶 🔞🔞!! NSFW !!🔞🔞

[poipiku]

[twitter]

[dollyyun]

and if i say i may or may not include heejake's full one night stand in the revamped dkp....

[ovaryacted]

Just wanted to say that despite Marcus Acacius being “niche” I guess (because y’all are fake and moved on /j) I enjoy writing him. It is very fun. I love fucking that old man. And I think I finally understand the point of writing for myself cause I’m always rereading Guilty As Sin like…HOLD UP! MY WRITING’S FIRE!! It’s so satisfying actually.

[beastsovrevelation]

Right, then. The sick part of my brain is terrorizing me once more, and taking an idea from it is like taking a bone from an angry rottweiler.

Who wants a fucked up Michael Langdon x Reader oneshot?.. I really do not feel like making a yet another OC, and adding a yet enother epic to my endless list.

[christronomy]

"is this what real love feels like?"

he'd asked himself this question when he first realized he loved you, but he wasn't sure just yet. he wanted to wait it out a little longer, test the waters a little more for his own sanity. it wasn't the first time he'd felt this way— hopelessly in love, like he's falling, falling, hard, fast, too fast, not knowing what the outcome was going to be when he landed.

the questions constantly raced through his mind; they were repetitive and made his head spin with uncertainty and fear. would he hit the ground and never get back up, never recover? or would you be there to catch him and break his fall? what if he let himself fall freely? could he trust you enough to be there? what if it backfired on him and you ended up leaving right before it was time to save him?

it wasn't the first time he'd done this— shared his body with someone in hopes of making them stay a little longer, maybe even love him a little more. "you don't have to do that," you'd said, and he looked at you, confused. it was late at night, you were both naked under the covers, and he tensed up as you gently caressed his body, only confirming your suspicions all the more. "do what?" he questioned, briefly avoiding eye contact, and you raised your eyebrows. "you know. we all have needs, and that's okay, chris. it's never too much to ask for affection sometimes," you reassured him softly, whispering the last part as you tucked your cheek into his chest, and he instinctively held his breath, not being able to relax his body completely until he fell asleep.

it was a bad habit he'd started to develop after his first heartbreak, along with the constant second-guessing himself, and the constant doubting of his ability to love back freely without having to worry about what might happen in the future. because that's what happens when you give so much of yourself to someone and they end up leaving, without a word, without reason, taking everything with them, leaving you with only the useless remains of what once was something so priceless, so beautiful.

but with you, god, with you, things are completely different. you make him want to do everything he's ever been afraid of doing. you make him want to open up and love you freely, love you without feeling like he has to watch his back to make sure you won't attempt to hurt him when he's not looking. it's a new feeling, not very familiar, but he wants it to be. he wants to love you like this. he wouldn't do it any other way.

that's why you're currently under him, already a moaning mess, his hands are gripping your waist like you'll disappear if he doesn't hold on tight enough. it's a pretty tight squeeze, but you don't mind it at all, not when he's fucking into you so passionately, making love to you in the best way he knows how.

you can't help the tears that had been welling up in your eyes, letting them spill out, because he's finally opening up, giving himself to you without hesitation. he's not recoiling and shutting you out like he used to, because for once, this feels right. what was once such a tedious chore to him is now something he's doing willingly. it doesn't feel the same as it did before, when he would fuck you good and hard just to make you feel like you had a reason to stay. and to you, he doesn't feel so absent anymore. he's engaged, making eye contact, whispering sweet praises in your ear, moaning whenever you clenched around him, touching everywhere his hands can reach.

and god did it feel good. it feels good to let himself melt into you like this, let you touch him the way you want. it feels so good to relish in the way you moan his name as he angles his hips to hit that particular spot inside of you just right, feeling your pretty cunt pulsate around him, and you absolutely adore the way he tosses his head back, small whines escaping his lips at the feeling.

chris brings his hands up to cup your cheeks as he continues to thrust into you slowly now, wiping your tears with his thumbs and kissing you deeply, and his heart skips a few beats at the way you moan in his mouth when he does so. the kiss made something flourish inside of him, a feeling that was so unfamiliar but felt like home at the same time, and he could feel it in the way you both smiled against each other's lips. you were his girl, his love, who healed his heart in so many ways, and he would never trade you for anything else.

this is what real love feels like.

[wikiangela]

🦵🦵🥩🥩💔💔

hi, thanks for the ask!

🦵 - 6 sentences of the leg pain fic!

“I can see it in your face, Evan.” Tommy narrows his eyes. “What did we just talk about?” he sighs with a small eye roll, but it’s more fondly exasperated than anything else. Buck noticed by now how Tommy seems endeared even by the most annoying qualities of him, and it still amazes him. “How bad is it?” He repeats, voice soft and patient, just like he always is.

🥩 - 6 (or 7 lol) sentences of the barbecue fic

I'm introducing a couple ocs in this fic so any new names are just tommy's friends lol - also this video was the inspiration for this whole fic btw

 Buck’s mid-conversation with Karen and Alex, when he notices something in the corner of his eye, and his eyes are drawn to his boyfriend. Because Tommy, his gorgeous, hot, beautiful man, who’s currently standing at the grill and preparing food for everyone, decides it’d be a good idea to take off his t-shirt and tuck it into the back of his shorts. Buck’s mouth goes dry – he should be used to this sight by now, but every time it gets him like he’s seeing him for the first time ever. He stops paying attention to the conversation, already taking steps towards his boyfriend. “Hey, babe, you want a fresh beer?” Buck yells, ignoring the half-full bottle still in Tommy’s hand. Tommy looks down at the bottle, too, then at Buck, an amused smile on his face. “I’ll get you a fresh beer,” he decides, stepping into the house so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet.

💔 - 6 sentences of the cheating fic (reminder that they're not great people in this fic, and it's ooc, and idgaf haha)

It’s only when he wakes up, in Eddie’s bed, in Eddie’s clothes, with Eddie wrapped around him, that it hits him what he’s done. He’s really outdone himself this time, and he’s never felt shittier. Last night was amazing, of course it was, and it came with a new realization – that this thing with Eddie, this… this affair, or whatever the hell they’ve been doing, this isn’t just physical. How can it be? It’s Eddie. He should’ve realized earlier, after it happened that first, drunken night, and couldn’t bring himself to stop doing it again – in fact, he wanted it to happen, he couldn’t stop thinking about doing it again – despite having a girlfriend, who does not deserve this shit.

tagging others who were interested in some of these: @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @eddiebabygirldiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@hippolotamus @ladydorian05 @reformedplayerbibuck

[planete777]

tomorrow 🤭