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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋.

DAY THREE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”

pairing: priest!ezra x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, dark content

summary: after a breakup, you find solaca at the local church. there, you meet father ezra.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, brief mention of reader going through a breakup, reader having a brief anxiety attack, reader having confidence issues, loneliness, messy blowjob, degradation, leg humping, dirty talk, facial, power imbalance, dumbification if you squint, use of whore, religious themes, this is written for horny purposes only, priest kink, a lot of 'yes father's and 'forgive me father's

Comfort is what leads you to your local church.

You wouldn’t exactly say you’re a believer, but coming to the church and sticking wishing candles into the sandy surface was one of your finest memories from your childhood. You enjoy the chocolaty smell of the wooden benches, the stained large panes of the windows that cast vibrant rainbows upon the polished floor when the sun hits them just right.

When you sit on the bench, surrounded by a calm dimness and silent prayers, you feel contented, like the world outside doesn’t exist.

You feel lonely out there in the modern world, especially after your breakup, which was the turning point that led you to the adorned wooden doors of the church in the first place. It wasn’t a messy breakup, still, it left you in shambles. He’d moved on so quickly. Just picking up his clothes and throwing them into the bag before he left. It broke your heart if you’re being honest. He was never overly affectionate or necessarily cared about the things you cared about, but it was better than being utterly alone.

Just a little bit of comfort. That’s all you want. Just a sense of belonging.

Here at the church, the sense of commune affects you, even if you’re not exactly a part of it.

Sitting at the edge of the bench, you look up. The church is empty today due to the heavy downpour, there’s only one more person other than you. They’re busy in prayer so you don’t stare at them for long, not wanting to be rude.

Your eyes move away from the person, they linger on the confessionals. You always found the idea appealing in some twisted way. As if asking for forgiveness from some random man will solve all your problems. You never went it, always feeling too paranoid that someone might hear how stupid you sound.

The person finishes their prayer, and as they walk down the middle, you notice it was a youngish man, his hair stuck to his forehead. His steps echo, a second later the sound of his departure rings dull against the cold walls.

You rise slowly, eyes once again fixed on the booths. They’re barely noticeable thanks to how dimly lit the church is, and with no sun there’s little light to guide you.

You’re not even sure a Father will assist you when you open the door to the small space. It creaks loudly and your skin crawls. You’re hesitant, yet you still climb inside and take a seat. It’s small, dark, and smells overwhelmingly of wood. It’s oddly comforting.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself until you hear the door opening and closing from the other side of the booth.

“Welcome. I am Father Ezra, and I am here to listen, guide, and offer you the grace of God's forgiveness. As sunlit moments blend with shadows, so too do our lives weave intricate tales of both frailty and strength. With open ears and an open heart, I beckon you to unburden your spirit. When you're ready, please share your thoughts, knowing that your words are heard in the spirit of compassion and understanding.”

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t rush his speech, taking time as if every sentence is a story of its own. It’s so smooth, enticing, beckoning you to pour all the darkness that lingers around your heart. You’re surprised to find yourself wanting to hear more of that honey-dipped voice.

Father Ezra, you’ve heard his name before and from afar, even laid eyes on him. You can barely remember what he looks like now though. You certainly never heard him during sermons, you would’ve definitely remembered his voice if you had.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when you hear a creak and a soft flutter of a robe.

“Sorry,” you say, quick and silent. “This is my first time doing this and I didn’t really have a prepared thing in mind.”

His soft chuckle echoes—god, why does he sound so good?

“Sweet, lost, little bird, you do not need to rush it. You can start by introducing yourself. Tell me your name.”

A shudder that starts from your toes claws all the way up to your spine. All he did was ask your name, yet, it feels like he’s asking for something drastic like your life. You swallow around the know in your throat, lowering your gaze even though there’s no one that can see you.

You give him your name and something you can’t discern shifts in the air.

“What a lovely name,” he hums. “Now tell me, what troubles you on this rainy day.”

“Nothing specific,” a sigh parts your lips, and again, a creak comes through the other side. Your skin prickles. You can feel as if his eyes can see through the thin wall that separates you both. “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I—I went through a break up a couple of weeks ago and. . . I guess I can’t help but feel it’s my fault somehow.”

You wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, you continue.

“This might sound dumb—”

“There is no such thing,” you can almost hear the smile in his voice. “There’s no shame in asking for guidance and forgiveness.”

“There were these things. . . that he said about me. Things like I was too needy, too dependent, and too much overall. And I feel like it’s true because no one ever seems to stay with me,” you let out a bitter chuckle as tears begin to well in your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m like this, maybe—maybe God is punishing me for a sin I don’t know and i-if that’s the case, Father, I seek forgiveness.”

A breath. A low, violent exhale of breath. Your eyes flit to the grille, a pair of plush lips now visible through the tightly made slats.

“You ask for forgiveness, atonement, yet do you actually believe?” he coos, voice low.

“I don’t,” you answer a bit too quickly and blood boils under your nails. “I–I mean I don’t know.”

“How do you expect me to help when you doubt the lord’s existence, little one?” Despite the provocative question, you see the faint curve of his smile through the darkness. “Are you desperate?”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” you say quietly. The rain pour had begun again, drowning out the rest of the sound. “I’ve been coming here ever since the breakup. I enjoy watching people pray and smile, looking comforted. I just thought that if I did this, that comfort would extend to me as well. I’m sorry.”

“The comfort is fleeting when you don’t believe it to be true,” he murmurs, ignoring your apology. “If you seek guidance, I can help you understand better and maybe then you’ll receive the comfort and the forgiveness that you crave oh so deeply.”

There’s a mocking lilt to his tone that you decide to ignore. It feels only right when you had outwardly said that you didn’t believe in the man’s religion.

With an open heart, you accept his offer of guidance.

You visit his office almost every night.

You found yourself enjoying the church even more after hours. Ezra became a friend, which didn’t surprise you because that man had an essence about him that would charm the pants off of any devil that he might encounter. You guys did bible studies together and talked about other religions as well, and what it means to understand the words inscribed and given to the people. It was interesting to listen to. He would even give you assignments sometimes, telling you to read a specific paper or book. It felt like being at school again. He’d given you something you thought you had lost forever; A sense of purpose.

It didn’t hurt that he was a sight to look at. His dark brown eyes always held a certain mischief to them, lighting up in amusement whenever you said anything peculiar.

You knew it was cliche to have a crush on a priest, yet here you were, wagging an imaginary tail whenever he praised you for doing a good job.

But tonight is not one of those days you feel all giddy and excited to see him. You enter the wide halls of the church and take a sharp turn towards his office, all you sense is impending doom, your insides riddled with anxiety. You’re shaking, barely able to feel your legs as you walk.

When you enter, his eyes look up from the papers that lay in front of him, his gaze momentarily dropping to where your dress ends, then back up. His brows furrowing instantly at your heavy breathing, “Little bird, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” you exclaim, heaving a breath. “Everything is wrong—I’m wrong—I—fuck—”

Ezra clears his throat in warning, “Language,” he says with a click of his tongue.

“Sorry, Father.” you look down in shame, your hands balled into tight fists as you fight the urge to pace around his office. “I just—”

He cuts you off, “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what happened?” he smiles kindly. “And maybe you can stop shaking while you’re at it.”

You nod as you take a seat. Your heart continuously rams against your ribcage and you can barely breathe, your throat convulsing in agony. Ezra gestures to you to look at him. When you do, he takes a deep inhale, making a demonstration in showing how his chest expands and contracts, his hand following the movement as if on waves.

You breathe with him, the oxygen that fills your lungs calming you.

“Good,” he hums. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I saw him today. My—My ex,” you shook your head, reliving the moment. “He’s already seeing someone, which is fine if he was just honest about it. It’s some girl from work, the same girl I asked him about when he moved out,” a hiccup parts your sentence and you continue, your eyes dropping away from Ezra’s. “I said ‘is it her, do you like someone else’ and he said no. He pretended not to recognize me, even though his girlfriend did. I could see it in her eyes but he just walked past me, like I never existed.”

A sole tear trickles down your cheek and you wipe it away with your sleeve, sniffling. When you feel another, you repeat the motion, finding solace in the softness of the fabric. “I’m an idiot,” you say, still not looking at him. “What am I even doing here? I should try to face reality not escape it in some—some church.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. The church had helped you when you needed it most, it had given you Ezra, most of all. But you couldn’t help the words, you’re angry. Furious. You feel invisible out there, but here, here people recognize you, and ask where you’ve been when you came back the other day. It’s good to know that if you disappear some people would wonder about you.

Ezra’s voice rings in your ear, and without even understanding the words he’s saying, you’re looking up.

“Let’s try something,” he says probably again. “Come here.”

You’re slightly confused but obliged. He pushes his chair slightly back, making some room between him and the desk. Your eyes drop to the end of his robes, two shiny shoes peaking from underneath.

“Get on your knees.”

You snort, “Excuse me?”

“It’s going to calm you,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

Your lips part with a faint gasp, you don’t blink as your eyes search his. There’s a tranquility in his expression that makes your heart throb. “Of course, Father,” you get on your knees.

“Good girl,” he pats his thigh. “Now lay your head.”

You do so without question this time, appreciating the firmness of muscle under your head. A moment passes, awkwardness starting to settle in, then you feel his fingers touching the back of your neck and gradually they move up to your scalp. Humming a gentle melody, he starts to stroke your hair, massaging your head as he went along. A deep sigh comes from the depths of your lungs, your nerves humming, your rigid muscles finally relax.

“You’ve been doing so well these past couple of weeks,” he says, a hint of amusement lingering in his voice. “You’ve been learning, little bird, but you still have much to learn. The church is part of the real world, you haven’t been doing nothing.”

Listening to him so intently, he sends shivers down your spine, the thickness of arousal pooling between your legs. He drags blunt nails down your scalp and comes down to your nape to squeeze from both sides. You’re embarrassed of the moan that rattles your throat but he doesn’t seem to mind it. You lean closer, pressing your cheek further against his leg.

“Isn’t this nice?” he asks without needing the answer. “You, my obedient girl, listening and eager to please. You’ll always feel like this when you’re with me. No anxiety, no need to compete and try to accomplish something when all you want to do is. . . relax. . .”

His voice had dropped to a whisper, every word a gentle caress to your skin. Eyes fluttering close, you only focus on the ups and downs of his voice, your body reacting to every stop and turn. The fabric of your underwear dampens, your folds becoming slicker the more you inch towards him. You ache for your fingers—or better yet his cock—but he isn’t allowed to touch you is he?

You try to remember the lessons in celibacy but can’t seem to remember any of them.

Your tighs instinctively press together, the brief friction doing little in dousing the wildfires between your legs. You wiggle a bit closer, his voice nothing but a siren song now.

Ezra notices the constant movement, his fingers slip under your chin, and drags your eyes up to face him. Your breath hitches. The faint moonlight that trickles through the windows behind him cast his face in complete shadow, his features hardening with darkness. He slips his foot between your legs, the floor creaking under the sole of his shoe, “Now, why can’t you stay still when I’m trying so hard to soothe you, little bird?”

He lifts the point of his shoe, the leather pressing directly against your throbbing clit. A surprised whimper rips from your throat, your body shaking as he drags the leather tip down. Your insides clench with want, with a primal need that you can’t seem to understand.

You’re haunted by his words and the darkness that lurks in his eyes. Despite yourself, you press yourself up against his leg like some animal. You can’t seem to stop staring at him. And by the way he pushes his shoe further into you, borderline on almost being painful, you don’t think he minds either.

Your eyes flutter as he parts his robe, your gaze immediately drops to the outline of his cock that’s visible. Your mouth waters.

“Worship me,” he unbuttons himself with expertise but leaves it at that. “Until I tell you to stop.”

His leg still between your legs, you pull out his cock. The tip is an angry shade of red, precum dotting at the tip, without much thought you lean over and dip your tongue, tasting him for the first time. The taste of him coats the inside of your mouth and you swallow greedily, the blood rush to your ears muffling his voice.

“Such a sweet whore,” he hums. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”

Dragging your lips down the length of him, you answer with him between your lips, “Yes, Father.”

“I really do enjoy it when you call me that,” his thumb touches your cheek as you finally take him between your lips, you allow out your cheeks and flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock. “All you needed was a little encouragement and now you’re the perfect hole for me. There’s nothing wrong with you, all you need is someone to take care of you.”

You hum in approval around him, taking him deeper while grinding against his leg, your dress rides up your thighs, your underwear nearly sheer in color.

“I can feel how wet you are. So needy,” he lays back in his chair and spreads his legs. “I want to feel every inch of your mouth. I said worship, if this is how you think that works you’re mistaken, dove.”

Your stomach churns at that. You want to make him happy—you truly do. You part from him, strings of saliva following the frame of your lips as you bend down closer to the floor, feeling the full shape of his shoe. You look up to him, the heft of his cock laying directly in the middle of your face, the scent of sex and him clinging to your nose. Opening your mouth, you lick between his balls, taking one into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. His eyes roll in pleasure, a thick drop of precome dripping to your forehead.

“That’s it,” he raps and guides you back up, lining the bulbous head of his cock against your lips. He pushes forward, cock filling your mouth then inching down your throat. Tears trickle down your cheeks, your throat convulsing as you try to accommodate to the width of him. You swallow and swallow, until your nose is buried into the dark curls that crown his length. You can barely breathe. “I knew you could take it all, little one. I know that mouth could do more than talk.”

The heavy palm of his hand moves down your throat, he feels the shape of himself through the skin. His cock twitches when it feels his hand, straining your mouth further.

He pulls out and you gasp for air, his grin is wide as he looks down at you. “I want to make a mess of that face,” with the rough pitch of his words, you roll your hips, your clit catches against his shoe and a loud moan spills from your damp lips. He clicks his tongue with annoyance. “Ask for forgiveness,” he growls, hand moving up and down his cock with hard strokes.

“For what, Father?” your voice is barely above a whisper. And you’re not sure why you asked when you’re going to surrender to his wants regardless of what they are.

“For being a whore,” he spits. “For talking about a past flame and for taking pleasure without permission.”

He watches with heavy eyes as you straighten yourself, his cock aimed directly at your face. You watch him with parted lips. His nail gently traces the vein that curls around the length of him, slick sounds filling the normally silent office. He swipes a thumb over his head and thrusts into his fist.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you begin. “It has been two weeks since my last confession. I have behaved like a whore, talked about another man in the presence of the clergy, and taken pleasure without permission. I come before you seeking God's forgiveness and guidance.”

“Will you repeat your sins?”

“No, Father. Not unless I have permission to do so.”

His hand quickens, his grip tightening, “Do it then,” he snarls with a devilish smile. “Ask me permission to be a whore.”

Instead of a verbal permission, you part your mouth wide and stick your tongue out. His eyes widen with shock momentarily before understanding. He seems pleased and in return, you feel genuine jot for finally doing something right.

He grips your chin, pulling you away from his leg and directly between his thighs. It doesn’t take him long to go over the age—one, two more strokes and you feel the first string of white come spurting over your face. It drips down your forehead from your face. The sounds Ezra make are unhinged, his hips lifting from the seat as he moans openly into the air, defiling you and marking you as his. His seed feels heavy over your face and with your tongue, you catch a bit of it, moaning as you swallow.

Ezra hunches over you and you feel his tongue on your cheek, taking himself into his mouth, he presses his tongue into your mouth, forcing more of himself inside of you.

When he parts away, you’re dazed, all pretense of the life outside of this church gone.

“My sweet bird, so dirty now,” he purrs, this time he collects more of himself over his fingers and stuffs it into your mouth. Your eyes rolling you swallow over and over. “What do you say?” he asks melodically.

“Thank you, Father.”

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x fem!reader #priest!ezra #tw dark content #tw dubcon #pedro pascal characters #hauntedhoedown #pedro pascal character fanfic #prospect fanfic

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yanderepuck · 1 month

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I'M BACK BABY

The amount of time I restarted this fic is insane. It was going to be Isaac, realized Faust fit better, but Isaac deserves smut but he'd be so ooc. So here we are with Faust, it's still a little ooc but you can deal.

Anyway. It's a modern au. I don't wanna give away the plot twist but the ending is funny. Trust me

You lay in bed, swiping on your phone. Swiping left on guy after guy after guy. Why is there no one cute in your area? Where did they all go for summer break?

You finally get to a guy that makes you stop. You look through his pictures. Wow he's hot. A little older than you but you're looking for a hook up, so what does that matter. You barely think twice about swiping right. You don't match immediately and so you swipe through some more guys before eventually falling asleep.

The next morning when you wake up, you start going through your notifications. Most of them are unimportant and clear them. You see that you have a match and a message.

You open it to see that it's the guy you liked last night. Johann. He sent you a message, you're sure it's some cheesy pick up line and you aren't wrong.

'That outfit of yours is cute, but it would be much better on my floor.'

You can't help but chuckle a little. It might be early but you're okay with starting the day with some flirting.

'You'd look much better on me instead.'

You continue to go through your phone, seeing what you missed before you get out of bed and start going about your day.

It was a few hours later before you got a reply. You honestly weren't expecting anything in return. Most guys want something that night and by morning are over it and unmatched.

But instead you got a message.

'I know something else of mine that would look good on you~'

You think for a moment before figuring out what to send back.

'Your lips can go where they want. But I think your hands would make a pretty necklace'

Then the messages come faster and by late afternoon you are doing nothing but flirting with each other.

'Why don't you come over tonight so we can actually have some fun~'

You pause. Do you really want to go straight to his house? You know nothing about him. You can't even say you've talked to him for a day, you've just been flirting. Would that be safe?

That's what you would be thinking if the two of you didn't start exchanging nudes an hour ago. Seeing his erect cock got you feeling a type of way. A good type of way.

Damn you're so needy. You've been lonely for just a little too long to think of any consequences and agree to his offer. You couldn't have him come to your place. It's small.. and a disaster. You clearly look like a broke college student.

You look up the address he sent you to see what the area looked like. It seemed nice. It was a nice house, and pretty close to you.

'I'll be over soon~'

You change your clothes into something nicer looking and head over.

It didn't take long for you to be knocking on his front door. You are standing on the porch a little nervous. Hook ups are nothing new to you, but you really hope he's as hot as he is in his photos.

The door opens and a tall man opens the door. That's him alright. Wow he's hotter in real life.

"...damn you're hot."

"I could say the same thing about you," he pulls you inside, closing the door behind you. You can't believe you said that out loud.

"Did you find the place alright?" he already has an arm around you.

"Yeah," you slip your shoes off, immediately shrinking a few inches. You look back up at him. Damn. How is he hotter now that your shorter?

With your head up he kisses you. You came for a reason, and it wasn't to necessarily get to know each other. Maybe each other's bodies, but if you don't learn a thing about the other by the end of the night that's fine.

You kiss him back, which only causes him to kiss you harder. You moan and turn your body to face him. As your hands went up his shirt to feel him, his hands went behind you to grab your ass.

Encouraging him, you press your body against him. In a swift motion he picks you up, keeping a firm grip on your ass. Your arms move to hold onto him by his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

As he carries you to his bedroom, you take the opportunity to try to get some moans out of him by kissing his neck.

Just as he started to moan for you he drops you on his bed, immediately taking his shirt off.

"Is there anything I shouldn't do to you?" He tossed his shirt to the side

You almost don't hear him. How did you luck out with a guy so hot. Since you don't answer he leans down, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him.

"If you don't answer I'll just use you how I like."

You feel your cheeks flush. Oh god. That's a dream. But maybe you shouldn't agree to that since you have just met him.

"Make me your personal fuck toy."

Definitely not what you should have said.

He smirks and lets you go. "That's what I like to hear."

You quickly start taking your shirt off. Once it's over your head he pushes you onto your back and starts to yank your pants down to your ankles. You move further back onto the bed and slip out of your underwear.

As you are taking your bra off you hear his belt being undone. Something about that sound gets you excited. With your bra to the side he gets on top of you, grabbing your hands so that he can tie your wrists together with his belt.

He does it so quickly that you swear he does this all the time. He sets his glasses to the side before going further down on the bed, almost laying down.

As your legs are being spread open you look down, seeing his face between your thighs. With your legs over his shoulders, you get a good glimpse of his bright green eyes before you shut yours with a gasp.

His tongue slid its way into you. You were already wet with anticipation but now you are leaking into your tongue. He's treating you as a meal, lapping you up and getting his tongue as deep in you as he possibly can.

It isn't long before you're squirming. His hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you down on the bed. He nibbles you a bit, teasing you with teeth. Feeling you jump only causes him to do it again. Your thighs try to close, as if you want him to stop, but you really don't want it to end.

Letting go with one hand, he starts to rub your clit, going in circles.

"Ahh-hh no!" You moan louder and squirm in a way that it seems like you are trying to roll over. Once he starts rubbing you, it doesn't take much to cover his tongue in your cum.

You try to look down at him, to catch a glimpse of his eyes. When you make contact with his, he looks like he's going to go feral. This is what you wanted after all.

"If you're going to be my fuck toy, let's flip you over."

He doesn't give you the option to roll over yourself. He sat up, grabbed you, and flipped you himself. You could help but moan. He even moved you so that your ass was in the air.

His hands grabbed your ass and rubbed it roughly, getting you to moan again. You could feel his hard tip pressed against you and whined. You've been waiting for this all day and now he's right there. You try to move back to get him to slip inside.

He chuckles. "Well I'd you're that eager."

He smirks and pushes his whole length inside you. He was going to ease himself in, but since you're so impatient.

"Ahh-!"

You bury your face into the bed and pull at your restraints.

"Don't be shy now."

He reaches up, grabbing a fist full of your hair and pulling it back.

"I want to hear what kinds of noises my new toy makes."

His voice is in a low growl, though your moans it can be hard to hear but each word gets you wetter.

His hips pull back before snapping back into you, getting you to yelp.

"Good girl," he praises you as he starts to thrust into you at a regular pace, making sure his full length enters you. "You're so tight and yet you can fit all of me," he pulls your hair more to hear you yell.

You try to prop yourself up on your tied up hands as he pulls your hair more and more.

"And you just keep getting wetter," he teased, his cock being able to slide in and out of you faster.

He doesn't seem to hold back with how hard he thrusts into you. One hand isn't enough to keep your hips in place and your legs start slipping.

Faust lets your hair go, making you fall forward. Without losing momentum, he fixes your hips and presses down on your upper back, forcing your face into the bed.

Your hair is in your face, your hot breath hitting you back. Your body is squirming again. With your hips at a new angle his cock is hitting a new spot, getting you to cum again nearly immediately.

"You're a perfect toy," he grunts a little, still going despite you tightening around him. "You take me with no complaints," he pushes you down harder as he pounds into you rougher.

"Ungh-ahhh! F-fuck!" You pant, barely able to get out words.

He feels himself starting to get closer, but he stays in you for as long as he can. His thrusts are getting out of rhythm. Finally he pulls out of you, making a trail of cum down your back.

He tries to catch his breath for a moment before helping you lay your body flat on his bed so that he can grab something to clean you up.

As he steps away you try to push your hair out of your face. In a few moments your back is cleaned, your hands are freed, and you're laying there with your head on his chest.

For the rest of the summer your hook ups became nearly a regular thing. You don't plan on keeping it once the summer ends so you don't end up getting to know each other much. You're there for a hook up, no strings attached.

Or so you thought.

Your college classes start again. It's the first week of the semester and you're looking over your schedule.

"Ugh. My schedule is awful. I already can't wait for this to be over."

You head to your next class. It's a lecture hall. You already know it's going to be one you're going to fall asleep in.

You walk into the class and look for a place to sit when you look at the front to get a look at the teacher.

Shit. No. He can't possibly be the teacher.

"Johann?"

Faust looks up from the papers he's looking at to see who called his name and makes eye contact with you.

"Shit."

~~~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp faust #smut smut smut

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actuallysaiyan · 10 months

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15 with Ganondorf as person B 👀👀👀👀

event here.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, quickies, creampies, slight roughness, sort of modern AU kind of thing going on word count: 0.8k pairings: Ganondorf x Fem!Hylian!Reader prompt: Person B and Person A fucking in public and having to keep their voices down to avoid getting caught. Bonus: Person B has to cover Person A's mouth with their hand. Or their lips.

You wondered often to yourself how you managed to catch the eye of the king of Gerudo. But you were never complaining when he showed you this sweet side of him. You remind him of sweet days frolicking in the forest of Hyrule in his youth, and he reminds you of warm summer nights watching the stars. Somehow, you became a perfect match for Ganondorf. He had quickly become your lover, and the intimacy you two shared was nothing short of mindblowing and magical. He made every time with you feel like it was this sensual ritual.

Even though he was more a fan of making love in his bedroom or yours, sometimes he would surprise you with something quite spontaneous. Whenever he did that, you were always so excited. Having a quickie in somewhere new and with the potential of getting caught always gets your blood pumping and your heart racing like nothing else. So when he invites you out for a few drinks at this new tavern built in your town, you know that maybe this will be the night you two decide to have such a risky rendez-vous.

You wear a new dress, just begging to be pushed up over your hips. This is exactly what Ganondorf does as soon as he locks you both into the overly cramped restroom of the tavern. His eyes are full of fire as he kisses your neck, making you squirm in his grasp.

“You know the rules,” he whispers in a husky voice. “Don’t make too much noise and you need to let me finish inside.”

You don’t often let him finish inside, just because you aren’t necessarily ready for the commitment of a baby. But whenever you two indulge in these sorts of quickies, it’s just easier for him to finish inside of you so that he doesn’t need to clean up messes. You kiss him frantically, clinging to him as he pins you against the wall of the restroom.

“Gan…” you breathe out as he plays with your clothed cunt. He smirks as he notices how the fabric is clinging to your folds already.

“Naughty little princess,” he grunts as he pushes your panties aside. “You were just waiting for this to happen.”

It doesn’t take much longer for him to pull his own pants down and let his cock bounce free. It smacks against his abdomen, standing tall and leaking out the pearlescent fluids you usually love to taste so badly. He can see that look in your eyes, and he knows he doesn’t want to tease you for much longer. So he opens your legs a bit more, and he uses his cock to spread your wet folds.

“Fuck, you’re so damn wet.”

He doesn’t say anything more before sliding into you, making you squeak out from the intense feeling of being stretched. No Hylian man could ever fuck you the way this giant Gerudo does. He just makes you feel so full every time. You feel it all the way in your navel sometimes. It’s just the size of him that has you completely stretched out. His eyes narrow at you as he begins pumping into you.

“Be quiet, princess.”

You try your best, but it always feels so good. You grip onto him as his cock pistons into you, in and out and in and out… He’s slow with the rhythm at first, keeping it nice and deep. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up the pace and begin fucking you harder. Your nails dig into the meaty flesh of his biceps.

“Oh fuck, Gan!” You cry out, and he growls. He knows if he continues to let you be loud like this, you’ll surely get caught.

One of his hands comes up and smacks against your mouth, making sure you understand the warning he is trying to give you. The sounds of your cries of love are now muffled and they vibrate against his large hand. The way he keeps his hand on your mouth while fucking himself into you so fast and hard has your head spinning. It’s so sexy to have him have to shut you up like this.

“I warned you,” he growls into your ear. “You’re just begging to be punished huh?”

He removes his hand for a moment, allowing you to breathe and be able to respond. But at the very same time, the tip of his cock hits your sweet spot dead on and you let out a moan. Ganondorf leans in and kisses you roughly, fucking you harder and faster until you reach your peak. He grunts at the way your silky walls milk him so good, sending him over the edge along with him.

“Next time, you need to be more quiet…” He tells you as you straighten out your dress. “Or else I’ll shut you up myself.”

#bacon.writes #ganondorf x you #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf x y/n #ganondorf smut #legend of zelda #legend of Zelda x reader #loz #loz x reader #loz ganondorf #loz ganondorf x you #loz ganondorf x reader #loz smut #legend of Zelda smut #6k followers event

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ghoularaki · 6 months

Text

baby's breath | 9

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 3,057

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, collars, slight shock torture

The neighbor’s must never be home. This you had deduced as you were sat outside soaking up the late July Sun. In the couple weeks following after Levi had spanked you over the tub, you had become docile. Well, as docile as you can be.

Out of self-preservation, you dialed down your abundant want to be anywhere but this damn house. Also Levi had kept the gag on even after your punishment was over and your jaw started to feel like it would fall off. So you listened.

It took two days before Levi trusted you enough to take the gag off besides when to eat and to brush your teeth. Trust would be a stretch since you both knew Levi didn’t believe an ounce of your obedient act. You weren’t necessarily trying to fool him or Erwin, you just needed time to recuperate.

If the shorter man of the two kept running you ragged you would never have enough energy to escape. Mustering up all your willpower, you bit your tongue and allowed them to treat you as lesser than. The routines were kept up.

Erwin would pick out your clothes in the morning as he took you out of the crate and kissed your forehead as a goodbye. An underlying threat in his sweet gesture when he told you to be good. Every single time he turned around you resisted the urge to throw the stupid pink, frilly clothes at his big head.

As if he sensed it every time, Levi would walk into the room and take the clothes. There he would lead you into the bathroom and help you—more so forcibly—get ready for the day. Nothing you did you were allowed to do on your own. The only luxury Levi offered was letting you eat without assistance. Other than that, he’s on you like a hawk.

They weren’t awful enough to only let you wear skirts or dresses, but the shorts bestowed upon you were still covered in lace and frills. You could only count your blessings, no matter how miniscule.

So there, you sat on the living room floor in a babydoll style shirt and short bloomers. Despite the hot weather, a shiver ran through your body. Today, Erwin had been home as it’s the weekend. On Sundays were the only days he allowed himself a break from work. So to your surprise, despite it being Saturday, he didn’t leave for his home office.

Mid-morning sunlight streamed in from the open curtains. After begrudgingly letting Erwin feed you, he guided you to the living room. Instead of leading you to the couch, he had you sit on the floor by his feet. Leaning on his knees, his form encased yours. Those deep sapphires bore into you.

“You have been so good lately,” The words were a statement, but his tone seemed questioning. “Good behavior must be rewarded, right, Levi?”

Erwin looked over your head to Levi who made his way to stand behind you. You were completely caged in. You did not like what those words meant.

“What do you mean?”

The huge man gave you a smile filled with mirth and something darker. He’s scheming. Two can play at that game.

“If you could have anything you want, what would it be?”

His words were a honey trap meant to lure you in with a sweet promise. The sticky nectar would only entangle you further if you weren’t careful or dared to move too far. You bit your lip in thought. Whatever you say had to be done precisely.

Not leaving his gaze, you meekly asked, “Anything?” He liked you small.

Teeth all on display, he grinned with chilling warmth, “Anything.”

Glancing to the Sun blaring through the window, you turned back to him, “I want to go outside.”

His face fell slightly before the skin jumped back up to mask his obvious discontent, but you continued. “Under your terms.”

Throughout this exchange, you dared not look at Levi. All confidence you had would vanish in an instant. He wore you down in all the worst ways. Your plan would shatter and disintegrate.

You longed to feel the Sun on you. This house grew boring quickly and each day you spent here, the more claustrophobic you felt. Desperation would be an understatement. Day in and day out were your rights as a human violated, treated as a pet or a toy or a child.

Those miniscule pings of trust they had in you, you were going to sap dry and leave this place. Whether it be in a ditch, body long since cold, or back in the warmth this merciless world offered.

“Our terms?” Erwin probed.

“I don’t even have to leave the front steps and I wouldn’t be alone either. All I ask is to go outside, just for a bit. Please?”

Both men are silent.

You vehemently refused to break eye contact with Erwin. At this point you are graveling, on your hands and knees to get your point across. You set up the board, and it is now their turn to move the pieces unknowingly in your favor.

Erwin did not speak more as he got up, knees cracking. You could only pathetically watch as he disregarded your proposition.

Levi still standing, never letting his focus on you waver. Finally, you rotate to him. His face didn’t portray anything. You were only left more confused than before. He said anything and you made sure to ask for something within reason. Should you have been more patient?

“Get off the floor, it’s dirty,” Levi broke you from your spiraling.

He did not offer a hand, but stayed close. Obeying, you got up and brushed the imaginary dust from your knees. You looked over to where Erwin retired to his office. You could only hope this didn’t set you back to square one.

The next day Erwin had returned to you, a little more chipper than you would like. He had his hand behind his back obviously hiding something from you. Breakfast spread across the table, Levi had gotten you up this morning instead of Erwin. The break in routine already had you on edge.

You had barely begun to eat when Erwin’s lumbering form emerged from the doorway and crossed over to you. Your eyes followed him as he came closer. He knelt before you, a hand grabbing one of your knees so your legs began the swivel of your body being turned towards him. Shoulder leaning against the back of the chair, you stared down at him in question.

“I gave it some thought about your request,” He paused to analyze every and any indication to what you were thinking, “It has been a while since you’ve been outside.”

His words were too good to be true. There was a catch. There was always a catch.

That same grin crept back onto his handsome face. From behind him, he pulled out a collar. The type you would put onto a dog. You stared at the pink, webbed nylon sat in his palm. The material was thick along with the width of the collar—it would easily encompass most of your neck. It seemed almost too bulky, but you didn’t question it. The front buckle had a lock on it. Its cutesy, heart shape mocked you.

“I also have a proposition to make. You can go outside and accompany Levi as he does yardwork, but you must be collared.” Erwin chuckled at your twitching lip. He knew you did not want that thing around your neck. “… Or you can stay inside.”

The with me stayed silent, but heavily implicated.

Your hands laid in your lap, right where his almost brushed against yours. You pondered what to do. Erwin knew you wanted so bad to go outside, but the thought of being collared like a dog disgusted you. Though this isn’t what held you back. It's you sneakily being tested to which man you would prefer. Of course, it would be neither, but Erwin’s a man of mind games.

Not caring how much this would offend the man before you, you muttered from your place above him, “Outside.”

At that, he stood to his full height, establishing the power once more. Your head followed his motion. Gently, he moved your hair from your neck and brought the thick collar around your neck. You flinched from the cold metal biting your skin. His deft fingers threaded the nylon together until the collar sat firm on your throat but not enough to constrict your breathing.

Stubbornly, you stared at his stomach and not up. Two of his fingers went under the collar and tugged on it. Glancing up instinctively, Erwin nodded to himself in satisfaction and then stepped back.

From behind you, Levi cleared his throat. You jumped as he grabbed his plate and set it into the sink.

“Come. Put your shit away and follow. We are wasting daylight.”

Eager to get out of this stuffy house, you rinsed off your plate, the rushing water sharp in your ears. Cutting it off, you stepped in tow with Levi. In his hands were a leash, a contrasting black leather to the pink entangling your throat.

As Levi stepped into his work boots, you stared at your socked feet. You didn’t have any shoes.

You expressed this to the man crouched down, tying his laces together.

“You don’t need them.”

“But then my socks will get dirty,” You argued.

His eyes sharpened into a scowl. Muttering under his breath, he opened the closet keeping the coats and bent down. He emerged with a pair of old slippers, and tossed them at your feet.

“There, spoiled brat.”

You opened your mouth to counter that you didn’t care about dirt, but you knew he would kick up a fuss like the grouchy old man he was, though decided to clack your teeth together. Getting the last word wasn’t worth whatever he dished out.

So you slipped your feet into the flimsy shoes and waited for Levi to finish unlocking the door. He swung the door open. Sun kissed your dull skin. You closed your eyes and took in the humid air from the summer light. A stray, white butterfly fluttered by you. You smiled. Somewhere someone had been thinking of you—or at least that’s how the superstition went.

Shuffling off the porch, you didn’t wonder too far from Levi. He didn’t give an instruction you were allowed to free roam and the leash clutched in his finger didn’t give any indication he wanted to. Across the plush, green grass, he brought you back to where he had drowned you with the hose.

The pavement suffocated both you and the grass begging to creep from under its oppressive weight. Your skin crawled as cold flooded your veins. Soon your blood ran a clear, icy water. The thin liquid filled you to the brim until you tilted your chin up to avoid the impending flood.

Levi snapped his fingers. “Hey, Hey! Brat, wake the fuck up.”

Shaking out the water from your ears, you stared blankly at the man. “Huh?”

He jabbed a finger into your forehead, “Are you listening?”

Your confused expression must have given away you indeed hadn’t been listening. He sighed, and stepped further into your space. Hooking the latch on the leash into the ring on the collar, he gave it a small tug. You stumbled closer, a hand gripping his sturdy forearm for balance.

“Sit.”

Shoving you down, your knees landed on the soft ground. To the side of you was a hook emerging from the grass. Stuck into the dirt sat a stake perfect for your leash to be threaded through.

Levi crouched right next to the hoop and tied the leash tight so there was no way for you to tug it free. You observed intently about how good Levi’s at tying knots. It made you shutter.

Still close to you, he pulled his fingers through the collar as Erwin did, but with more force. He tugged you to him so you collapsed on your hands.

“Don’t ruin this for yourself.”

You said nothing. Those steely irises pierced into your psyche. It scared you shitless how easily he read you. Stupidly you would forget how intelligent this man was.

Releasing the collar, he pushed you from him and walked over to the basement door. With ease he hauled the left door open. Your shoulders hunched at the screeching metal. From over the door, he gave another threat.

“I will be out faster than your shit brains can think of an idiotic plan. Stay. Put.”

God, did he grate your nerves. Maybe you could find a rock to chuck at his head, then he’ll see how fast he can give snarky remarks. But with how he is, he would simply catch it and then bash your brains out of your skull.

Despite his warnings, you scanned the area for what you desired. Levi’s soft foot-falls dimmed with each step he took further into the basement. Scrambling, you tugged at the stake to no avail. Instantly giving up, you glanced around for anything else. You looked up at the window to see if Erwin’s watching. The coast’s clear.

Crawling to the loop, you desperately clawed at the leash to unravel it. Growing more frustrated in your time crunch, you unhook the leash and more easily untie it from the stake. Just in time you are able to free the leash.

Clambering over to the basement door, you don’t even peer over it to make sure you don’t hit Levi, you push it down. It slammed shut with an audible rattle. Levi’s shout is muffled.

Working quickly, you sat on both doors while you looped it over and over the leash through the handle. Tripling knotting it, you ignore Levi pounding against the metal. His pushes lift you off the door for a mere moment, but it’s enough.

Trusting the knots were secure, you scampered off the doors and ran full force into the woods. The leash would only stop Levi for so long as he would surely give up and go through the other doors. All you needed was to get to the neighbors who couldn’t be more than a mile away considering you could see their house lights.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all you needed to escape this hellhole.

Erwin must have seen you too at this point, but you weren’t too worried about him. He would never do the dirty work himself.

The treeline just broke when searing pain coursed through you. Crumpling to the ground with a piercing screech, you clawed at your throat. Your fingers scrambled to get the collar on your throat off you as it sent more electric shocks through your body. You could barely take in the trees surrounding you. Writhing in the dirt and broken twigs, you cried and pleaded for anyone, anything to stop the pain.

Your legs pathetically kicked out as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. As the oxygen rapidly left your lungs—choking on your own foaming spit—you gasped when it returned. You couldn’t even turn over to breathe in properly. Only twitch and cough on your own saliva.

Your flickering lids peer upwards to Levi standing over, visibly annoyed. A remote sat in his shaking fist. His shoulders heaved from both anger and exertion. Glancing at the basement doors still tied up, he must have run through the whole house just to get to you.

He dug his heel in your stomach, “Didn’t I say to stay put.”

You couldn’t even rebuttal or try to get him off you. All you could do was accept his cruel treatment, how his foot went upwards to crush your rib cage.

Relief filled you as he took off his foot, but it’s short-lived. Leaning down, he grabbed the back of the collar and lugged you through the dirt. Coughing, you frantically gripped behind to offer some sort of reprieve. The collar dug into your larynx and the raw skin.

Weakly your heels scraped against the ground to stop him from hauling you to wherever you were going. Along the way, you lose one of the slippers. Crossing the yard, you gagged at him shoving you further up. Your nails tilled the grass beneath you. You grunted as you went up the step on the porch. Bruises would definitely litter your back after today.

Kicking open the door, Levi dragged you through the mud room and into the living room to where Erwin sat patiently. The shorter man dumped you at his feet.

Growling, he pointed at you, “You deal with her or else I’m going to slaughter your little princess.”

Stomping back out the house, he slammed the door so loud the house shuttered. Erwin paid him no mind as he stared down at your gasping form. You wanted this damn collar off, off, off.

He gripped the hand that tugged at the lock, he tutted, “Uh uh, bad girl.”

With your hand still clutched in his palm, he pulled you up to sit in his lap. Sagging further into the recliner, he hugged you close to his chest. Too strained to resist, you let yourself be cradled. Ever so doting, Erwin slipped the slipper still attached to your foot off and dropped it somewhere on the floor.

The heavy hand on your hip stroked up and down. He kept his hand over the clothes, his touch never straying.

Your body knew the danger you were in, but your brain had been fried, scrambled to bits. Tense in understanding, you couldn’t completely fall into his embrace. Your tendons awaited the next shock. You don’t think you could ever be able to relax again until the collar came off.

Your breath brushed against the skin of Erwin’s exposed collarbone. “Am I- am I in trouble?”

“I think you learned your lesson already…” His words hung in the air.

“But?”

“Sleep. You need the rest.”

Tears softly spilled, staining his shirt. He may think you were disciplined enough, but did Levi?

Erwin smiled when you curled further into his embrace. Just for a moment, naively believing the words he was a passive bystander of your punishment, and not the executioner.

#yandere x reader #levi x reader #yandere levi x reader #yandere erwin x reader #erwin x reader #yandere #yandere levi #yandere erwin #yandere aot #aot smut #yandere smut #yandere x you

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feralbutfluffy · 11 months

Text

Give a Man a Mask

The man who caught Aziraphale’s eye was lounging rather indecorously on one of the many benches lining the walls of the ballroom. He (because despite every inch of them being covered, Aziraphale was sure it was a he) wore a well-tailored black velvet suit jacket that fit snuggly over a black waistcoat intricately embroidered with gunmetal filigree. Underneath the waistcoat, Aziraphale could just make out a black shirt and a flash of burgundy lace at the man’s throat. Black leather gloves laced up around his wrists, and matching knee-high boots fit snuggly over the man's fitted black trousers.

Aziraphale sighed with envy. He could never pull off something like that.

Of course - he told himself - it wasn’t the man necessarily that had caught his eye. It was the clothing; he had always noticed and admired fine clothing, and his outfit really was exquisitely made.

Besides, it was hard not to notice someone who had dressed in such stark contrast to the rest of the guests. It seemed everyone else was dressed to excess, resplendent in feathers and lace, gemstones and pearls. This man’s costume, by contrast, was downright modern; minimal but striking, yet still in keeping with Carnivale. The handstitched leather Plague Doctor mask beneath a black tricorn hat completed the look. It should have looked offputting, really...

It did not.

The man looked less like a man, Aziraphale thought, and more like a long black shadow curving against the wall. Aziraphale popped a fritelle into his mouth and chewed it slowly before swallowing.

If he was honest with himself (which he would prefer not to be, all things considered) he knew what had really attracted his attention; there was something about him - the lazy confidence evident in the way he was sitting, or the dark clothing perhaps - that made him think of Crowley. He hadn’t seen the demon in a few years, and although he was absolutely loathe to admit it even within the privacy of his own mind, he did rather miss him.

Well. He missed him and worried about him in equal parts. Handing over the thermos of Holy Water a few years before had certainly ramped up his anxiety.

He was extremely glad of his full-face volto mask as he watched the figure out of the corner of his eye. He popped another fritelle into his mouth under the mask, chewed, and swallowed with a little groan of pleasure. They really were delicious.

The Plague Doctor swiveled to face him as if he had heard him, and although there was no possible way the stranger could have heard anything of the sort from across the crowded ballroom, Aziraphale blushed ferociously. The heat of it was almost unbearable behind his full-face mask.

He turned his body away from the man, staring down at the sweet delights laid out on the banquet table, and tried very hard to ignore what felt like a heated stare. He gazed down at the galani, his mouth suddenly dry.

Although he was almost expecting it, the dark presence at his elbow a moment later made him start.

“Buonasera, come sta?” said the Plague Doctor in perfect Italian, tipping his hat in a quick formal bow.

Aziraphale had been right about it being a man.

He jerked back at the greeting, startled by the man’s sudden proximity, and scrambled for a reply.

“Oh! Buonasera!” Aziraphale could think of nothing else to say. He cringed behind his mask and wondered if he could miracle his way out of a conversation that was embarrassing before it had even begun.

The Plague Doctor was wearing a zendale beneath his tricorn, and the silk hood concealed every part of his head not covered by mask or hat. He tilted his head, looking like a curious raven, and rested both his gloved hands on top of a cane Aziraphale hadn’t noticed before. His tight grip - Aziraphale could see his knuckles straining against the leather of his gloves - obscured most of what looked like a beautifully carved gunmetal handle.

He looked up. The large eyesockets of the mask were filled with dark glass lenses, revealing absolutely nothing. Aziraphale smoothed down his more traditional costume. The cream and white concoction with gold embroidery and an abundance of lace ruffles had rather delighted him when he’d stepped out this morning, but it felt quite indulgent next to this austere creature.

“I trust you are enjoying yourself?” said the Plague Doctor in an extremely thick Italian accent, leaning forward on his cane so that the beak of his mask almost punctured his bubble of personal space.

“Oh yes, very much so!” Aziraphale nodded, wondering what had drawn this man to his side and how he could possibly reverse it. For all that he had been intrigued before, he hadn’t intended to actually engage the stranger in conversation. There was something extremely unsettling about him up close. Perhaps it was the costume, or the way he was standing; it was patient, watchful, almost… predatory.

Aziraphale shuddered, and the Plague Doctor’s head tilted the other way, making it clear he had noticed.

“Va bene, Signore?” Are you well?

Aziraphale nodded quickly. “Oh yes… Sto bene!” I am well. There was a brief pause while he summoned up formal Italian and hurriedly added a thank you. “La ringrazio!”

The Plague Doctor nodded. “How did you come to be here?” The words came low and slow, and Aziraphale felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his skin prickling with awareness.

He had always had a bit of a weakness for the Italian accent.

“It was suggested to me by the concierge at my hotel,” he smiled, even though the man couldn’t see it. “He thought I might enjoy it, and he was right! I am enjoying it tremendously! The food alone...!" He made an appreciative noise. "How did you…? Are you local to the area?”

A slight tilt of the head as if the Plague Doctor were considering his question. It was surprising how demonstrative he was able to be without a single facial expression.

“Not exactly,” he said, and Aziraphale thought he could hear a smile in his voice, “Although for tonight... Certo. If you like.”

The man swept into a much deeper, more theatrical bow than before. The black feather in his hat almost grazed Aziraphale’s chest. “This is my palazzo - my festa - and I am your host for the evening. You are…” he said, and straightened, holding out his hand. When Aziraphale hesitated, the man crooked his fingers impatiently and for some reason Aziraphale obeyed, quickly placing his white silk-gloved hand in the man’s leather-clad grip.

“... You are extremely welcome here,” the man finished, bringing Aziraphale's knuckles to his mask.

It didn’t seem to matter that there were no lips there to brush against his hand; Aziraphale felt it as if the man had kissed his knuckles open-mouthed. A dart of something hot and unutterable shot through him, flared up and burnt out, thankfully vanishing before Aziraphale had time to recognise it and panic.

“Yes. Well. Thank you. La ringrazio,” he said, feeling flustered.

“No need for such formality, Signore,” the Plague Doctor said warmly, tugging his hand without warning to bring them shoulder to shoulder. He tucked Aziraphale’s arm into the crook of his elbow and patted his hand as if to reassure him that it was alright.

Aziraphale thought that it was probably not alright.

Surely it was not alright to walk arm in arm with a total stranger? Surely there was something morally grey about taking a turn with a mortal Italian dandy who apparently owned a palazzo and, by extension, the many sweet treats Aziraphale had been helping himself to throughout the evening?

If nothing else, surely he should feel some guilt or shame about enjoying the closeness of a stranger who reminded him so much of Crowley?

#good omens fic #good omens fanfic #ineffable idiots #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #mutual pining #they're morons your honour #happy halloween #good omens fanfiction #good omens oneshot #through the ages #aziracrow #not halloween but close enough #oiche samhain #because I'm struggling #Aziraphale in Venice #why not #ineffable #good omens

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cherryredlove · 2 months

Note

hi darling!! i just saw your modern!aemond one-shot with a model!reader and i just love it, and i wanted to ask for another one shot with a model!reader, not necessarily a smut, i mean,it could be them as a couple just taking a vacation in the countryside or on a paradisiacal beach or even simply Aemond supporting his girlfriend at a rehearsal or fashion show, or the opposite. <3

hiya! absolutely love this request so decided to combine all of it together! hope you enjoy this fluffy love xoxo

☆ his grand prix prize: the holiday ☆

F1 Driver! Aemond Targaryen x Model! Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

After a career-defining runway, your devoted F1 star boyfriend whisks you away for a holiday of romance.

Word Count: 1.5k

Themes: just pure lovin fluff as per the delightful request, reader and aemond r cutie simps, alcohol consumption, tooth rotting fluff!!!

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

You stand in the wings of the bustling backstage area of the Highgarden Haute Couture fashion show, surrounded by the orchestrated chaos of models, designers, and stylists making last-minute adjustments. It’s one of the biggest nights of the season, and the energy is electric. You adjust your clothes and take a moment to centre yourself before stepping out onto the runway. A makeup artist fusses around you, dabbing blusher on your cheeks, but you hardly hear her.

For the past several years, you’ve become a household name in the fashion world, the face of numerous campaigns and covers. But tonight’s event is something special. Highgarden Haute Couture is your home turf, where you first made a name for yourself, and tonight, the stakes are higher than ever.

Out in the audience, Aemond Targaryen, the man turned boyfriend who has somehow managed to capture both your heart and admiration, sits in the front row. As one of F1’s top drivers, he’s usually more at home in the paddock or racing down a track at breakneck speed. But tonight, he’s traded his race suit for an impeccably tailored black velvet suit that hugs his athletic frame. His slicked back silver hair and amethyst eyes amplify his allure, drawing all eyes to him, even in a room filled with models and celebrities.

The lights dim, and the music shifts to a rhythmic pulse that echoes in your body. You’re next. As you prepare to step onto the runway, a small, knowing smile plays on your lips. You know Aemond is watching, his gaze unyielding and proud. You can feel the heat of it, even from backstage.

When you finally stride out onto the runway, the audience’s eyes turn to you, but you only have eyes for one person in the crowd. Amidst the flashing cameras and whispers of the fashion elite, Aemond’s gaze is the anchor that grounds you. The way he looks at you, with such pride and admiration, sends a thrill up your spine.

Each step you take is deliberate and confident, your body draped in the exquisite fabric of Highgarden’s latest collection. The dress is a masterpiece, a delicate blend of sheer lace, and intricate floral embroidery that clings to your frame, accentuating every curve. You feel powerful, beautiful, and bolstered by your loving boyfriend.

You reach the end of the runway and hold your pose, letting the photographers capture the moment. As you turn to make your way back, hips swaying, your eyes meet Aemond’s. His lips curve into a smile, one that’s just for you, and your heart skips a beat. You’re used to adoring fans and lavish praise, but nothing compares to the silent support and unwavering belief Aemond gives you.

After the show, you find Aemond waiting for you backstage. The chaos of the event swirls around you, but the moment you see him, everything else fades into the background. He’s leaning against a column, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression one of casual confidence. The moment his eye meets yours, he straightens, his smile widening.

“You were incredible,” he says as you approach, pulling you into a warm embrace. “That dress was made for you."

You laugh softly, feeling the adrenaline from the show begin to ebb away. “It was, wasn’t it? But you’re just biased.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

You pull back slightly to look up at him, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his lapel. “Thank you for coming. I know this isn’t really your scene.”

He shrugs, his expression fond. “It is when you’re here. Besides, how could I miss watching my favourite model steal the show?”

Your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you feel a rush of affection for the man standing before you. It’s moments like these, away from the glitz and glamour, that you cherish the most. “And what about you, Mr. Targaryen? What’s next on your agenda?”

His grin turns slightly mischievous, and you know he’s up to something. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”

“Only if you don’t like sunshine and secluded beaches,” he replies, producing two plane tickets from his jacket pocket and handing them to you.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take the tickets, scanning the details. “Dorne?” You squeal. “You’re taking me to Dorne?"

Aemond nods, his satisfaction evident. “A little getaway. Just you, me, and the sun. I figured we both could use a break.”

You can hardly contain your excitement as you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The idea of escaping the hectic schedules and demands of your respective careers for a private holiday is too enticing to resist. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “I try. So, are you in?”

“Absolutely,” you reply, already imagining the golden sands and shimmering waters of Dorne. “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

The next day, the two of you board a private jet bound for Dorne. The flight is luxurious and comfortable, allowing you to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. As the plane soars above the clouds, you steal loving glances at Aemond, who’s reclining in his seat, his expression relaxed and content, glass of whiskey in hand. He looks every bit the handsome, confident man you fell in love with, and you feel a swell of gratitude.

You land in Dorne to a burst of warm sunlight and a gentle breeze that carries the scent of the sea. A sleek car waits to take you to your destination—a secluded beachfront villa nestled amidst lush greenery and overlooking the crystal-clear waters of the Summer Sea.

As you step out of the car, the view takes your breath away. The beach stretches out before you, its sands golden and inviting, and the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore fills the air. It’s paradise, a world away from the demands of your careers.

Aemond takes your hand, guiding you toward the villa. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice holding a note of nervous anticipation.

“It’s perfect,” you breathe, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Thank you, Aemond. This is exactly what we needed.”

He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I thought so. Come on, let’s make the most of it.”

The days blend into a blissful routine of sun-soaked relaxation and intimate moments. You spend your mornings lounging on the beach, the warm sand beneath you and the sun kissing your skin. Aemond joins you, his presence a comforting constant, as he reads or indulges in light-hearted teasing.

In the afternoons, you explore the beauty of Dorne, wandering through picturesque towns and savoring the local cuisine. The vibrant colors and rich culture captivate you, and you find yourself enchanted by the land and how you can share it with your lover.

One evening, as the sun begins its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find yourself back at the villa, enjoying a quiet dinner on the terrace. The table is set with an array of delectable dishes, and the soft glow of candles adds a romantic touch to the scene.

You gaze at Aemond across the table, your heart full of gratitude for this unforgettable experience. “I could get used to this,” you confess, sipping a glass of chilled Dornish wine.

He chuckles, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “So could I. But don’t worry; we still have a few more days before reality calls us back.”

After dinner, you move to the lounge, where a gentle breeze carries the soothing sounds of the ocean through the open windows. You curl up on the plush couch, Aemond’s arm draped over your shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” you murmur, resting your head against his chest.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

As the stars begin to twinkle above, you find yourself lost in the contentment of the moment. It’s a rare escape from the demands of your lives.

Aemond shifts slightly, drawing you closer. “You know,” he begins, his voice low and tender, “watching you on that runway, seeing how incredible you are at what you do… it made me realize how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with affection. “You’re my biggest fan, Aemond. I couldn’t do it without you.”

He smiles, his eye glinting with warmth. “And you’re mine. We make quite the team, don’t we?”

You nod, feeling a sense of certainty in his words. In the paddock, on the runway, your hearts belong to each other.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: loved just spitting out this gorgeous fluff, plz plz send in requests! i love writing for you guys like this! hope you enjoy @luckyfirebasement ♡⚝♡

#modern house of the dragon #modern aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond f1 au #f1 au

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lili-of-the-wildfire · 9 months

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okay fine, u all forced my hand in this one. these are MY azzie headcanons, mostly based on what’s canon in the books but i’m nothing if not a woman who would have been forcefully lobotomized so there’s also some delusion sprinkled in. enjoy 😙 (not proof read or correctly punctuated or even coherently arranged, we die like men on this blog)

* he may be a bit quiet in some situations, especially when meeting people who’s intentions he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but if he does nothing else, he’ll offer up a small smile in greeting. he’s not just going to sit there aloof in a corner, sans introduction.

* he’s a total vibe reader tho, his line of work has made sure of that. like he just knows when something is off about someone even if there is evidence saying otherwise. and he’s right every time, damn him.

* he tucks his hands behind his back out of habit, not necessarily shame. he used to be far more insecure, but as the centuries dragged on, he’s become less and less ashamed of what was done to him as a defenseless child.

* that’s not to say he’s fully healed and moved forward, just that time has given him some perspective and wisdom.

* (btw he loves hand massages with your lavender and lemon verbena lotion and he is not afraid to admit it)

* when he gets himself into trouble he tries to slink off into the shadows slowly, instead of disappearing all at once. nobody has a problem calling him out on it, but sometimes he honestly does get away with it.

* he has TASTE! he took one look at cassian and feyre’s gods awful decorating and didn’t even remove his outside clothes before he was fixing it.

* he and his mate’s house would look like something out of a Williams Sonoma holiday catalog.

* the two of you would put up lebron numbers on a joint pinterest account in a modern au.

* he’s quick as a whip with his dry humor and comebacks, and while cassian may be his main target, the two of them combined?? Mr. your mother and Mr. two hundred years at least TOGETHER? jesus it’s a wonder rhys came out of Illyria with the ego that he did.

* he differs from his brothers in that PDA is not his jam. he’s not getting blowjobs at the dining room table or fucking in tents while people die outside. he’s definitely not fingering you for the first time in a shabby inn, either. he’s more publicly reserved than that because he favors romance more.

* you know how rhys/feyre and cassian/nesta fucked before they were in any sort of relationship? azzie’s not doing that with someone he genuinely wants to pursue a relationship with.

* consider the following: does a man who’s spent centuries pining after the same woman come off as anything other than a romantic? no, lovely reader, not in the slightest.

* he’s got the softest heart, i just know it. while he’s kind, he has his reserved exterior, but i think once you get past that as a relationship develops, he’s so tender and thoughtful.

* his gift to nesta was so personal and thoughtful despite their superficial relationship, and he expected nothing in return. imagine what he could come up with for someone he knew on a more personal and intimate level!!

* his gifts may not be as over-the-top extravagant as Rhys would prefer, but they’re so well-planned and personal because he actually listens to you! and he watches you! and he takes the time to actually think about what would be useful and meaningful for you (Mor could NEVER, luv u tho baby)

* while he’s not overtly sexual, Azriel is a FLIRT! a shameless flirt! he doesn’t need to resort to poetry because when you exasperatedly tell him “stop trying to distract me, I’m busy!” he just arches a thick brow, looks you up and down and says “make me.”

* BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

* And your cheeks heat a bit because he’s looking at you like he knows exactly what you’d taste like and he’s starving for it and then he just laughs and you realize you’re a fly that got stuck in those honey-trap eyes again

* So you huff and roll your eyes, turning to leave the room but a hand on your wrist tugs your momentum backwards and suddenly there’s another hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking along your jawline.

* A deep hum rumbles from the back of his throat, his gaze dragging from your mouth up to your eyes, “Do that again, I like watching your eyes roll back for me.”

* ladies/theydies i am PROFUSELY sweating !!!!!!!!!

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar

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cupidastrology · 2 years

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asteroid groom 5129 through the signs - 🕊.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙⊹

please do not repost or copy my work.

asteroid groom 5129 is one of many marriage asteroids in asteroid astrology. this is the asteroid that shows the influence of who is meant to be your one and only in the marriage area of your lifetime.

asteroid groom can also show who, what, and where is best to have an engagement with your groom or mainly how your groom treats you when it comes to being a husband in your daily life. it can show you how your wedding with this person will go.

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

asteroid groom in aries: the groom is risky, non hesitant, and fun. your connection with this person will be out of bounds, reckless, and ruthless in the way they wish to wed you. you may go through experiences where the wedding or connection to this groom will be raw, unexperienced, and brand new. a fresh breath of air.

asteroid groom in taurus: your groom is verbal, loud, and expressive with their desires, wants and needs. may want to be committed to you in a very passionate way or provide you with endless indulgence in order to get the desire or points across in their need to consummate with you. getting involved with lots of flowers or different wines.

asteroid groom in gemini: you may happen to have a groom that writes you love letters, create experimental and intellectual content, and even engage with you that is full of speeches from the observation of how they see you. this is a position that is all about having someone hold your hand while they take you through the process of making you theirs.

asteroid groom in cancer: you receive nothing but reassurance, support, and guidance from having this position in the birth chart. your groom is attentive and wishes to go through a raw connection with you into creating a family with you. children and babies are involved.

asteroid groom in leo: your groom is loud, fun, and challenging to others around them. when you find someone who wants to wed you, you will find that they're very obvious and will be prone to making sure that you're impressed with their antics. you may go through insecure suitors that want to wed you.

asteroid groom in virgo: your groom is highly observant, dark, and often bluntly honest with what they want, wish, and desire to commit with you in an engagement or wedding. they will capture you in knowledge, solutions, books, and many pretty blankets or clothes to sway you to the best wedding.

asteroid groom in libra: you will receive many flirtatious ways of love, seduction, and desire with your groom due to this position. you may have a suitor that has alot of experience with women and romance, so be sure that your groom is sure to be wed to you. indecisive or dishonest grooms may come out of this position.

asteroid groom in scorpio: your groom will want to pull you in with their emotions and emotional desires. their connection with you is very deep and more consuming than buying a ring just to give you. the groom will want to bed you and worship you more than sway you with just a question to wed more than anything else.

asteroid groom in sagittarius: you may travel or have to get in touch with a personalized way of living your own life in order to seek out the groom that brings you happiness and inspiration. you may encounter your groom through religion or some form of spiritual practice.

asteroid groom in capricorn: your groom may be older and more in touch with traditions rather than the modern take on relationships and weddings. engagements will happen in a very intricate and expensive place, the question being done in a huge way.

asteroid groom in aquarius: your groom is out of this world, boundless, and not necessarily connected to the traditions or aspects of getting married. engagements and gifts around this groom will be outlandish, fun, and even odd.

asteroid groom in pisces: you will go through a possible intricate ritual or process in order to connect with this type of groom; you will be bound to experience paranormal experiences or even a spiritual experience with your groom with this position.

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