#saying that her 'sin' would be lust | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoffmansgirl · 4 months ago

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𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇 ━ father charlie mayhew

★ warnings: nsfw content ahead!! making out, blasphemy, slutty!reader, they're both horny as fuck (sorry not sorry...), handjob, oral (m!receiving), face fucking, use of "daddy" like once or twice, use of "father" during sex, unprotected p in v, slight size kink?? lmk if i missed something

☆ note: my first attempt at smut and... not sure how i feel? other than that, it's my first fanfic on tumblr!!! feedback is deeply appreciated, enjoy :)

!! english is not my first language !! ౨ৎ

She knew he craved for her the way she craved for him.

The way her eyes followed him as he spoke, the way a little smile tugged at the corner of her lips every time their eyes met. The way he looked at her with a lust so deep that he couldn't comprehend it. The way he got nervous every time she walked through that big, heavy door in her ridiculously short skirts, making him unable to focus.

She was there every day, watching him, waiting for the perfect time to get to his head. But he never let her. He always left the platform before she could even take a step forward.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. In the night, when he was all alone, he wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped, her pretty face in his mind, as he came hard each time.

Let's say, he was getting pretty good at avoiding her.

It was until, after the Sunday mass, she came up to him and said: “I would like to confess” confidently, even though hesitation could be heard in her soft voice. Everyone else left the church, and it was only them now. The thought made her heart skip a beat.

Father Charlie smiled at her, trying not to look at her exposed legs. She was teasing him, with her ridicolously short skirts and cut-low tops. Her pretty, almond-shaped eyes scanned over his face, and he felt his pants getting tighter every passing second.

“Of course. Come to my office at 8”, he cleared his throat, eyes leaving her small form only to wander around the walls of the church. Suddenly he felt nervous by her presence and the effect she had on him. She bit her pretty glossed lip and he swore he could come just at the sight of her. This little, slutty sinner. He thought about bending her over the bench and fucking the confidence out of her.

“Thank you, Father”, she replied and nodded her head, and then she left. Her voice caused him to take a deep breath; he didn’t realise he was holding it in. Her smell surrounding him, and he inhaled deeply: the smell of vanilla, tobacco and a little bit of her making his head spin.

“Lust is a sin”, he mumbled, closing his eyes, but then he saw her; on her knees, all submissive, taking his cock deep in her mouth. Her face when he made her cum, the way her pretty tits bounced if he let her take control and ride on him. Father Charlie opened his eyes immidiately, and his eyes brimmed with tears. “God, forgive me”.

Y/N knocked on his office door exactly at 8 p.m. She was wearing a short, black skirt, long-sleeved top that barely covered her boobs, a leather jacket and platform boots. She bit her lip nervously when she heard his voice from inside: a raspy “Come in”, that made her heart skip a bit, and she twisted the doorknob.

“Good evening, Y/N”. The way he looked at her made her want to clench her thighs together. His eyes scanned over her legs, and then her boobs, and finally, they settled on her pretty face. She smiled at him, confidently, and replied: “Good evening, Father”.

She sat down in the chair across of him and crossed her legs.

“You know, I thought this should be done in a confessional” She noticed after a while of silence, and he leaned down on the desk, playing with his ring. The sight made her want to clench her thighs together, but she stopped herself from doing so. She knew he would immidiately notice.

“It should be, yes”, he confessed, and then took a deep breath. “But you’re not here to confess, aren’t you, angel?”

The nickname made her eyes widen, but she nodded her head and replied: “Correct, Father. I just wanted it to be us two.”

Her boldness should disgust him, but it only made her more attractive in his eyes. She has to be the devil, he thought, and, once again, felt his pants getting tighter. Her eyes followed his every move, observing his reaction.

"Maybe you should confess, though." he said, keeping his attentive eyes on her. Y/N ran a hand through her black hair, her rings and bracelets glistening in the dim sunlight peeking through the window. "Tell me, angel, what's going on in that little head of yours?"

"I have sinned, Father." she confessed immediately, her lips curled into a little smile. She should feel ashamed. Disgusted by herself. Yet all she felt was excitement. She was obsessed with him, and now it was her chance to get him. Y/N wet her lips, her mind going blank at the sight of him, leaning against his desk, sitting here nonchalantly, his brown eyes following the movement of her tongue against her lip.

"I have been... pleasuring myself... and thinking about someone I shouldn't be thinking about. Not like that." Y/N's cheeks burned, but she continued, she needed to get this off her chest. She didn't dare looking at him, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I've been hooking up with some guys at parties, imagining it was him instead. Manhandling me. Claiming me. Marking me."

For the first time in a while, Father Charlie was in a loss of words. He shifted in his seat, leaning against the back of the chair, studying her pretty face. She looked so angelic, her tiny form making it hard for him to control himself. Of course she has been thinking about him. He felt excitement run through his veins at the images popping up in his head. Y/N, just in her pretty black lacy panties, her fingers inside of her puffy, leaking pussy, face twisted with pleasure. He swore he could almost hear her pretty moans as she came, "please, Father, I'm close" leaving her pouty pink lips.

Y/N thought she heard a little whisper coming out of his mouth, but she couldn't quite tell what he was saying. His eyes pierced into hers, as he got up from his seat and ringed around the desk. His steps were careful, predatory, as she kept his stare without flinching. Y/N pressed her back against the chair, her shirt lifting up just slightly, but he noticed. His face followed her chest, and his eyes' light up.

"Tell me more. Tell me everything you think about when you lay in your bed at night, pleasuring yourself at the thought of me."

She dared to look up at him, and she was taken aback by the sudden closeness. He was towering over her, his lip between his teeth, his left hand finding place on the arm of the chair she was sitting in.

She shuddered when Charlie's hot breath tickled her ear, but she didn't back off. His mouth was suddenly on her collarbone, licking her skin, humming to himself at the taste and smell of her. Y/N moaned quietly, and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes at the sudden pleasure.

His right hand found itself tangled in her long hair, and he pulled, making the small girl under him whine again. His other hand running over her pretty breasts, up to her collarbone, stopping on her neck. He squeezed the sides of it, and she closed her eyes, whimpering oh so prettily. His touch cautious, teasingly slow, as he breathed heavily, in awe at the sight in front of him. She was a mess and he barely touched her. Charlie chuckled, the low sound vibrating against the thick air surrounding them, and both of his hands left her body as he backed off, leaving her cold and desperate.

"You're such a little slut, you know that, angel? Teasing me with these short skirts of yours, staring at me during the masses, distracting me. You thought I wouldn't notice?" He tutted, leaning against the closest wall, his strong arms crossing on his chest. Her eyes followed him, and she got up, desperation visible in her every move. The degrading nickname echoed in her mind, the wetness between her legs getting unbearable.

"I wanted you to notice, Charlie", she used his first name, causing his whole body to shiver, as she took big step towards him, pinning him to the wall. She touched his muscular shoulders, her delicate fingers moving down his chest. "You can't imagine how long I've wanted this. I want to make you feel good, Father. Please, let me", she whispered, looking at him through her lashes, her lips dangerously close to his own. Charlie's eyes followed her mouth as she spoke, his dark irises sparkling with desire, as he felt completely dominated by the tiny girl in front of him. A strange feeling sparkled in his chest, but he didn't have time to think about it, as Y/N run her hand over the bulge in his pants.

The sudden intrusion on his pulsing member caused Charlie to moan, his head falling against the wall with a loud thud. Y/N's hand now stroking him through his dress pants, her breathing growing heavier by each passing second as she observed his reactions. Her mouth twitched into a satisfied smile, her thumb just barely running over his leaking tip, and he fucking whimpered.

She backed off just as he did minutes ago, still smiling from ear to ear, as his eyes met hers again. The next thing she felt was his lips on hers, as he devoured her, his hot tongue in her mouth almost immediately. The kiss was rough, both of them fighting for dominance, as she tugged at his hair, his greedy hands on her ass, pulling at the flesh, feeling of her soft skin almost too much for him. Charlie lifted one of Y/N's legs, holding it up on his hip, as he felt her much smaller body melting into his own. The moment their crotches met, and she grinded, a synchronised moan vibrating against the thick air surrounding them. Y/N pulled back from the kiss, catching her breath, but never pulling away from him completely.

His forehead pressed against hers, as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Her mouth found his again, but this time, it was softer, the feelings she had for him finally taking over her, as she kissed him as if her life depended on it. They moved slowly, without a single worry in the world, her hands on his chest, as his own found place on her lower back.

"Let me take you to my room", Father Charlie mumbled under his breath, eyes full of something she couldn't quite name.

Y/N nodded, and the next thing she knew was Charlie dragging her through the long corridor, his steps hurried. He shut the door to his room behind them loudly, and he kissed her again, his hands tugging at her black top, desperate to take the excess clothing off her body.

Charlie pushed her on the bed, and took a second to adore her bare tits. Her nipples already erect, reacting to the cold air in the room, and he couldn't stop himself from getting on top of her, leaving bruises all over her neck.

"No bra? You really planned all of this, didn't you? You are just a desperate little slut, begging to be fucked, aren't you, Y\N?" he whispered in her ear, leaving a big, wet kiss under it, and she moaned. She arched her back as his mouth closed around one of her nipples. Charlie swirled his tongue around the hard nub, and a hum left his mouth at the taste of her. He looked at her through his thick eyelashes, his innocent stare making Y/N grind on him again and again.

He moved to her other nipple, and she tugged at his dress shirt, silently begging him to take it off. He obliged, using one hand to undo the buttons, while his lips sucked on her pretty boob, never stopping his movements.

When his shirt fell to the floor, Y/N flipped Charlie over and sat down on his torso. He hissed when his back met the soft sheets, and for a second, his face grimaced in pain. She furrowed her brows, both of her hands on his hard chest, her hair on her face.

"What's wrong?" she immediately asked, her tits bouncing in front of his face as she moved downward to have a better look at him.

"Nothing you have to worry about, pretty girl". His soft hands touched her face, and she smiled at the compliment, taking a mental note to ask about that later.

"Let me take care of you", she said again, caressing his chest with her little hands, and she let their lips meet again.

Charlie melted into her touch, forgetting about the pain, his hand in her hair, as she kissed him slowly and passionately. Soon after the kiss turned messy, a dirty exchange of saliva, teeth crashing, tongues meeting in a nasty dance, as he lifted her skirt and started grinding his hard cock against her pretty, panties covered cunt.

She whimpered on top of him, back arching, but his lips never left hers. Her hands tugged at his hair, their lips separating. He could feel the wetness of her pussy against his hard on as she grinded against him, moving her hips in such way that had him breathless, his own member leaking with pre-cum.

She stopped her movements and immediately started to undo the button of his dress pants, and he moaned when she accidentally pressed her palm at his cock.

"Let me take care of you, Father", the blasphemous words leaving her mouth again, and all he could do was nod. His eyes pleading, and if it wasn't for the heat of the moment, he would be embarrassed of his own submission.

Y/N truly was the devil himself, he thought, as she took off his pants and boxers and laid down between his legs.

She licked her lips at the sight of him: she could already feel how big he was while grinding him, but seeing him, oh Lord, he was so big. He was definitely much above average. His slightly curved cock, tip leaking with precum, and the whole length contracted when she moved her lips closer.

"You have such a pretty cock, Charlie", she admitted wholeheartedly, her mouth watering, as he just stared at her, the praise making him even harder. She then took his cock in her hand and began slowly stroking his length, her thumb brushing against his angry red tip. Charlie's back arched as she finally touched him, his eyes closing at the contact.

"Oh... Oh, God", he whines, his mouth dropping open as she finally closed her mouth around him, struggling to take him in fully. She began bobbing her head on his tip slowly, and she hummed at the salty taste of his pre cum. "You're so big, Father", she moaned and then kitten licked at the underside of his cock, her tongue barely grazing over his tight balls.

All he could do was groan lowly, not a single thought in his head, as he thrusted his hips toward her face.

She began bobbing her head on him, his cock disappearing deeper and deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head. Charlie's hands found place in her silky, black hair, as he moved his hips, all of his self control leaving his body.

"Yes, angel. You're doing such a good job for me", she whined around his cock at the praise, her nails digging into his muscular thighs, as he thrusted into her mouth over and over again. "You have no idea how long I've thought about this, how many times I pumped my cock at the thought of you", his head fell back against the pillow as he murmured nonsense, his thrusts against her face getting more aggressive.

Y/N choked and gagged on his cock, only spurring him on more, and tears were streaming down her face, her makeup ruined, and her thighs clenched together at the sound of his pretty moans.

Charlie's cock twitched in her mouth, and she looked up at him, his own eyes already on her. His mouth was slightly opened, sweat covering his hard chest and forehead, the sight of his messy, soft hair making her moan around him.

"Cum down my throat, Father", she took her mouth of him only to whisper those words to him, her hand still pumping his twitching length, and in the moment he swore he could see stars, as his orgasm was getting closer and closer.

Then, as she put all of him in her mouth, and he was a lost man. His back arched as he pulled at her hair, her nose brushing against his soft, curly pubic hair as she deepthroated him through his orgasm.

Thick ropes of cum covered the back of her throat, and she gagged, slowly working her mouth over him until he collapsed on the bed, his chest heaving with deep breaths, whimpers leaving his pretty mouth. She swallowed all of his cum, the taste of him on her tongue making her shiver. His eyes never left his face, and he nodded in approval when she stuck her tongue out to show that she swallowed all of his cum. How could she not? In that moment she knew that she absolutely adored every part of him.

Charlie's still hard cock hit his stomach loudly as she got up from between his legs, and straddled him once again.

"You taste so good, Charlie", Y/N whispered, leaving kisses all over his neck and collarbones. His hands found her hips, as she pulled her panties to the side and grinded down on him. They both moaned at the contact, her wetness making it easy for her to grind down on his spit-covered length.

"God made you just for me", he hissed as she grounded down on him, his eyes full of adoration and awe, and she smiled, her brows furrowing because of the pressure on her puffy clit. "Are you an angel or the devil? Hmm?" his voice soft like butter when he flipped her over and surrounded her with his big arms, his tip just barely grazing over her entrance.

"I can be whatever you want me to be, Father", she replied breathlessly but wholeheartedly, chasing his cock with her leaking pussy, making a mess on his white sheets. Charlie smiled at her, and the next second she felt his fat tip finally stretching her out.

They both moaned in unison, and she clawed at his scarred back, and he groaned in pain and pure bliss.

"'S too big", she mumbled, her hair creating a halo around her head, and Charlie never stopped thrusting his length into her, his big hands holding her hips in place.

"I know you can take it, come on. You begged for it, so take it like the little good girl you are, can you, Y/N?" he taunted, his voice dangerously low as he felt her clench around him. She nodded and moaned as she felt him oh so deep. The pain and pleasure mixed, her vision blurred with tears of pure bliss as she whimpered.

"God, fuck me. Please, please, take me however you want, Father", she begged as her eyes rolled back, his own moan echoed through the thin walls. And that's when he buried himself in her to the hilt.

YN's back arched, tears blurring her vision, as he whimpered, his hand leaving her hip to find its place on her exposed neck.

He pressed on her neck, hard, cutting her airflow, fucking harder into her tight pussy, and she cried, and in that moment he thought that she was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in his life.

"Daddy...."

He heard her whimper, her hands clawing at the ruined sheets, as she looked up at him, completely ruined just for him to see. He groaned at the vulgar nickname leaving her mouth, his thrusts getting deeper, stronger, as she screamed in pleasure.

"You're a nasty little girl, aren't you, Angel?" he asked and chuckled when he saw her attempting to respond. "See that?"

Charlie took his hand off her neck and she took a deep breath, his hand finding place in her hair next. He yanked Y/N's head up and made her look down, onto the place where they were connecting over and over again.

The visible bulge in her stomach made her eyes roll back into her head, the sight so vulgar that she felt herself getting nearer and nearer to her orgasm.

"I'm gonna breed you so deep, Angel. You won't ever be able to look at another man again. You're mine now. I'm gonna pump you nice and full of my cum and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you?" he mumbled, his own end near, and she nodded her head, his hips flat against the back of her thighs.

"Please, I need it, Charlie. Make me cum", her voice barely a whisper, mascara smudged all over her cheeks, and Charlie kissed her with all the strength he had left, her hands around his neck as he held her hips in his hands.

His thrusts strong and sloppy as his whole body started to shake, her walls squeezing him tightly as she came with a loud moan of his name, and he followed immediately after.

He kept on thrusting into her, fucking her through his orgasm, their lips never separating as they came down from their highs together.

An hour later she was tangled in his sheets, his arm around her, thumb tracing little circles on her arm while they cuddled. YN's head on his chest, she was sleeping peacefully, but his mind was full of doubt and guilt. He knew he would have to punish himself for their sins. But she was worth it. He felt his chest tighten, and he placed a delicate kiss on her forehead.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of her sweet smile, and never before in his life has he slept so peacefully.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader

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blublublujk · 1 year ago

Text

closer

oneshot

word count: 12.7k

genre: step-siblings to lovers, dead dove (proceed with caution)

pairing: dongsaeng jungkook × noona reader

summary:

Jungkook had always known there was something wrong with him when he realized his obsession with his Noona was far too intimate consider their relationship, but she was perfect for him. Can anyone really blame him for falling in love with his beautiful older step-sister?

warnings: [PLEASE READ] dead dove, eat with caution (they are step-siblings and it's a bit romanticized), there's mentions of the pairing as minors but nothing too oversexualized and in detail, mentions of violent behavior (not towards reader), mentions of jungkook possibly being asexual or gay (he's not lol), pairing has shit parents and jungkook's father is an alcoholic, parent issues to the max, petite reader (fit the plot better), explicit sexual content: dirty sexual thoughts, jk has a huge dick and he jacks off so much, someone's a virgin in this and it is NOT the reader, there's a lot of crying in this one, jungkook probably needs therapy and the reader lol, extremely possessive and obsessive jungkook, DADDY KINK, hickeys, unprotected rough vaginal sex, dubious consent but they both want it, dirty talk, the reader slaps jungkook, squirting, blowjob, cunnilingus, come tasting/swallowing, slight ass play, choking, multiple orgasms, passing out and overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy (oopsie)

a.n: well i have no fucking words. im actually a bit shy and embarrassed to release this after my last post but we move on! this wasn’t apart of my drafts either SIGH. wrote this because i was insanely horny and ovulating so have fun ig. please enjoy it nicely. i certainly did. if you look past all the dark stuff you might find it’s actually pretty hot. i cant even believe i wrote this. im really scared … if anyone is crazy enough, please comment your thoughts. tempted to do more of these deranged stories. since tmr is christmas i leave this as a final parting gift for this year though it has nothing to do with chirstmas. byebye angels and merriest of chirstmas to you all <3

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

Jungkook has officially hit rock bottom.

He has officially lost his mind. Again and again he comes back to what he knows he shouldn’t and knows that, but he’s only a man after all. Can anyone really blame him?

For the third time that night, Jungkook has fisted his cock empty. The younger’s dick was raw and swollen– sticky from the amount of beatings he had pumped. His ballsack had nothing else more to give him and Jungkook started to grow frustrated. His dick was still heavy in his palm, aching for something he knows he could never fucking have. It simply wasn’t fair.

Jungkook pants loudly, wiping his dirty come all over his black sheets. He’s dripping sweat and he feels his dick might fall off if he keeps masturbating this much, but it was simply impossible. He’s a growing man after all, it was totally normal for him to have such a high libido. His doctor even said so (he asked him during a typical yearly routine exam and the professional confirmed it was more than normal, that usually as he ages he’ll simply grow out of it). Jungkook doesn’t even believe him anymore. The more he fucks his hand, the more he grows the urge to stuff his cock in his step-sister’s tempting pussy.

He knows it’s disgusting. He tried to overcome the disgusting need to fuck her until she begged for more, the compulsive thirst to eat her juicy pussy from behind, the lustful desire to ruin her for anyone else that dared lay hands on his older step-sibling. Jungkook has had too much time to think about these sinful– incriminating thoughts. He imagines how his step-sister would look all heavy and round, carrying Jungkook’s seed for nine months straight. What amazing mother she would be. He thinks about this all the time.

And he’s not just saying this out of his ass. His step-sister saved him. He had one-on-one, firsthand experience to all her angelic glory. She’s patient, extremely caring, and she’s the sweest thing he’s ever known. Jungkook is in love with her.

Can anyone really blame him? His Noona is the best. He’ll say it over and over, a million times until the whole world gets to hear it because his Noona deserves that and much more.

Jungkook believes he’s the only one that could please his Noona. He truly believes that there is no better man in this world for her than him. He doesn’t care how selfish that seems. His Noona has been hurt too many times and Jungkook has unfortunately witnessed it all. Every heartbreak, every break-up, every stupid relationship he has had to tolerate. He falls sick to his stomach every time because he knows she deserves so, so much more and only he could do that for her. He knows how happy he could make her.

After all, only Jungkook knows what is best for her.

Jungkook hears the living room door close hard, the house shakes from the harsh movement. The noise startles him from his current position. He quickly wipes the come off his abdomen and the sweat off his body. He’s sure he probably stinks or at the very least his room does, but the heavy footsteps coming from the stairs worry him more.

“Noona?” He calls out and nobody answers him, by the time he’s shoving on the first pair of sweats he can find his bedroom door opens wide. Jungkook still has sweat dripping down his bare back, praying that it goes unnoticed. He simply got carried away, fucking his cock into his hand for thirty minutes straight.

“Noona…” Jungkook reaches out the second he hears you whimper. The second he has you in his arms you completely let go. Tears stream down your face with no plans on stopping and Jungkook feels his heart break in two. In a way, he feels conflicted.

On one hand, he’s extremely upset about whatever caused you any trouble and he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you. Buy you your favorite ice cream. Take you to watch a movie. Cook you a yummy home meal. He would do anything if it meant he could make you smile again.

But on the other well, Jungkook’s fucking pissed. He needs to know exactly what happened, who fucking did this to you, and how the fuck he even let this happen. He’ll kill whoever did this to you. He will. Jungkook would do anything for his Noona, even if that meant killing someone with bare hands.

“What’s wrong, Noona?” Jungkook’s gentle when asking the question, watching you cry your heart out. The younger rubs circles into your back, comforting you in a time of need. “What happened? Tell me. Jungkookie will help.”

You sob into his chest hard and Jungkook can’t help the way his insides flare. He wants to burn the world down. That way, nobody can harm you and he can take care of you like he’s meant to. Jungkook was born to love and care for you. He feels that deep in his (dark) heart.

“Oh, Jungkookie…” He keeps rubbing circles, desperate to make it all go away for you. His Noona didn’t deserve this.

“I found the messages.” Between hiccups, you cry harder trying to explain the problem. It hurts. It hurts so bad, maybe you’ll never be good enough. For him, or for anyone.

“What messages, Noona?” Jungkook’s nose bumps into yours, cautious doe-eyes stare down at you. Fire lights deep inside them, but they don’t scare you because Jungkook could never hurt a soul. Not your innocent little step-brother. Certainly not your sweet dongsaeng.

“S-Seojun’s.” You have trouble breathing and Jungkook pats your back softly, being extremely patient, but deep inside him, he can’t wait to beat Seojun’s ass regardless of whatever you say next. “He— he cheated on me.”

Jungkook no longer exists in the same universe you do. The first thing he sees is red. Jungkook’s going to fucking murder Seojun. How fucking dare he!

How could he ever cheat on you? Seojun must have a death wish and Jungkook can’t wait to deliver his wish personally. He should cut off each fin—

“Jungkookie… m-my heart hu—hurts.” He snaps out of the dark space in his head and starts drying your tears with his thumbs.

“Noona… he— he doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook starts, holding you up with a strong grip. He could feel your squishy breast pressing hard against his upper stomach. In a different moment, different situation, he would have popped a boner and it would have been extremely awkward. Jungkook is not small in any sense but he’s a bit insecure. He wonders if you would love the feel of his huge cock invading your guts, but that’s for another time. “I’ve told you this before but you deserve someone that doesn’t make you question their love for you. Someone that loves you so much it could kill them. They should love and care for you so much that they would be willing to do anything for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Noona. He doesn’t deserve you. Nobody does. They can’t ever love you. They won't. You’re safe here Noona, I love you.”

“My sweet Jungkookie…” You sigh as tears begin to slow down and stick to your face. “That’s right. Only you could ever love me this much I think. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook snaps. If anything Seojun should be crying buckets, begging for forgiveness and mercy because after Jungkook’s done with him, he’ll regret ever meeting you. Jungkook can’t wait to make the motherfucker pay for his unforgivable crimes. “He’s just a coward. Not a real man.”

“Oh my Jungkookie, when did you become so big? Huh? So grown up.” Your tone wavers as you continue. “You’ve always been such a romantic. Isn’t that right? Noona’s so proud of you Jungkookie, the best dongsaeng I could ever ask for.”

Jungkook melts with every compliment.

When you first met Jungkook, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He would get so fucking nervous around you. His stomach would flip whenever you stepped into his line of sight. He doesn’t remember a time he didn’t have the biggest crush.

Like anyone else, Jungkook assumed this was nothing but a minor crush. It was his first crush. Jungkook didn’t have experience with girls or dating for that matter. He wasn’t at all interested in any of that. For a cool minute, the younger assumed he must be gay, clearly it was the only explanation that made sense at the time, but then he realized not even then he felt anything. His best friend, Taehyung is extremely gay and pretty handsome (if he must admit), but he could never be with him, much less fuck the man.

His next thought is he has to be asexual. Jungkook didn’t ever think about sex, much less want to participate in any sexual activity. The thought used to disgust him. There was no one worthy. No one he would like to stick his dick into. Jungkook was broken!

Then, his father came home one night, shit-faced couldn’t even hold himself up. Jungkook had to carry him to bed that night. He was only fifteen years old, he had no busy doing that, yet had no choice.

“Son. W-Wan you to meet someone tu—tomorrow.” His father begins, Jungkook winces when he reels him in close, breath stinking of some sort of strong alcohol. “Yu— got you a ma—mother. S-Stepmother.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He doesn’t need a fucking mother. Jungkook is happy with the way things are right now. Just him and his dad. No matter how broken their relationship is. He doesn’t need a mother.

“Appa, I don’t—”

“Quiet. Shh.” His father ends the conversation with a finger tap to his mouth. Forbidding the younger to get another word out. Jungkook feels he could sob because knowing his father, he was impending doom. “Sleep now child. Come here. Sleep with Appa.”

That night, Jungkook unfortunately sleeps in his father’s bed which reeks of musk and cheap cologne with a hint of mixed perfume. He doesn’t sleep all night, worried that he’ll wake up and his father will have choked during his sleep. He’s afraid that if he turns his head, he’ll find his father dead. Maybe that would have been better. That his father never woke up that next morning. Then he wouldn’t be stuck in the situation he was in today. His father’s at fault.

Jungkook’s father brings his “step-mom” over the next day and Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel. He hates her. He absolutely despises her. Jungkook feels it in his heart that she will completely ruin his life.

Jungkook already has a mom. She died giving birth to him. It’s not her fault. Jungkook’s mom is incredible and he’s heard great stories. Nobody will ever compare to his mother. Even though Jungkook never got the chance to meet her, he knows he would have loved her and she him. In another lifetime, Jungkook would have loved to spend his entire life in the warm arms of his mother.

What he wasn’t expecting was his step-mom to bring company. Jungkook obsesses from the very, very start.

“Jungkook-ah, meet your step-sister, Y/N. She’s two-years older than you. They are moving in with us, so I hope you will be a good dongsaeng to your Noona. We’ll live as a happy family from now on. Ain’t that right, Yeobo?” His father leans in kissing his step-mom with passion. Jungkook thinks if the situation was different he would have thrown up the sandwich he had for lunch, but as he looks up at you, he finds you playing with the ends of your sweater. You’re tiny. He doesn’t believe you’re older than him. You can’t be. Barely seventeen, but you have yet to grow into your lady parts. Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at you. Your lip was swollen from how hard you were sucking it from nerves. This had to be just as difficult for you as well.

With careful steps, you stretch your hand out, making peace with your new step-sibling. “Hello Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. I promise to be a good Noona. I look forward to moving in. I hope you can accept me. I promise to take good care of you.”

The younger almost falls to his knees. He’s never seen a more beautiful smile. Jungkook takes your tiny hand in his. His hand is bigger than yours, he’s tempted to compare sizes. He’s even slightly taller than you. Jungkook puffs his chest thinking about how he’ll only grow taller. He’ll soon tower over you.

Jungkook doesn’t even say anything to you that night. Not a single word. He can’t. He shakes your hand awkwardly with a deep blush setting on his cheeks. Jungkook promises one thing. He promises to care for you too. That promise stays in his head for now, but Jungkook is certain now. He’s definitely not gay and he isn’t fucking asexual. Not anymore. Not ever.

Since then, it’s like you’ve been attached by the hip. Jungkook grew to become a man. Now twenty-three and you twenty-five. And you grew into a woman besides him.

He was the best dongsaeng you could ever ask for. Jungkook was sweet. He would cry about everything and anything. While trying to get closer to one another and build a bond, you thought it would be a good idea to watch classic romance films. Jungkook would cry to every single one. A true romantic at heart and you, being the best Noona ever, would be there to comfort him. Like you would your own baby brother.

Back then, you used to dream of having siblings, you’re extremely lucky you get to live that with Jungkook. You didn’t mind that he was a big cry-baby, it was endearing that a boy could have so many emotions and show them without holding back.

He was extremely sweet. Jungkook was protective, like any usual brother was. Always looking for ways to watch out for you and even though he was the younger, he took care of you, a lot.

Your mother wasn’t present much. And his father was much worse. They simply weren’t there. Not then, not now. But Jungkook was there. He was the shoulder you could cry on, the person you could run to, the only person you could fully depend on. Jungkook was always there.

Jungkook was very kind-hearted, so innocent and pure. He was never the kind of guy to bring girls home. Talk about sex. You aren’t even sure if he’s ever had a girlfriend or even ever had sex for that matter. He even watches his mouth around you. He doesn’t cuss and he certainly doesn’t act out. He’s a very good boy, the best and kindest dongsaeng.

“Thank you, Jungkookie.” You pull him closer, hands wrapping around his solid back, with a sniffle you question. “You— you’re hot?”

Jungkook blanks, very confused. Were you realizing your love for him? Is this the way it will happen? Jungkook’s not sure he wants it this way. Not after he just helped you get over another man. He hopes this time for fucking good. He cannot bear hearing about Seojun and his stupid face ever again.

“Do you have a fever, Jungkookie? You’re sweating!” You start to pat him all over, trying to measure his temperature with your hand. “Oh no my baby, let’s get you to bed!”

Jungkook nearly awes. You went from having one of your worst days to completely being concerned about his well being. The younger beams in relief, he’s lucky his Noona is clueless. So fucking unaware. Doesn’t even realize the sheets are still filled with his filthy release. All thanks to her beauty.

“I’m okay Noona, you should head to bed. It’s been a long day.” The younger leans in for another hug, a thank you for being so kind.

You keep insisting. “But you’re dripping! You have a fever, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook chuckles with you in his arms. “I worked out before you came home. I didn’t have time to shower. I don’t have a fever, everything’s okay. ”

You fake a gag. “Yuck! Don’t even warn me either! Jungkookie, you’re an animal!”

Oh, if only you knew. :)

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to slip from his arms, only holding on tighter.

“Scared of a little sweat, Noona?” The younger teases with a sly smirk.

“When it's you, yes. Don’t want my dongsaeng’s sweat on me.” Jungkook tries to look past the “when it’s you” because what the hell does that mean? Would you like sweat if it came from someone else? Would you touch him if he was someone else? Would you lick it off if the situation was different? Jungkook swats all those thoughts away. He almost popped a boner and he doesn’t understand how that’s even possible after the day he’s had today. He is done for today, but his dick sadly has a mind of its own.

“Whatever. Go sleep!” Jungkook unfortunately has to let go which is the worst part, but is surprised when you’re blushing against his still, very bare chest, your smaller hand resting on his abs.

“Can… can you come sleep with me Jungkookie?” You get so shy Jungkook has to hold back from babying his own Noona.

Like music to his fucking ears. Of course, he’ll sleep with you. He silently thanks Seojun for being a fucking dumbass. Jungkook’s about to pick up all the pieces he just broke earlier and never, ever give them back.

“Don’t get all shy on me Noona, of course I will! What type of dongsaeng do you take me for?” Jungkook dramatically in offense holds his chest.

“Only the best, my sweet Jungkookie, but go shower first. You reek.” The younger gasps, feigning offense.

“No I don’t!” Jungkook is quick to defend himself, coming close so he could smell his pits. He’s probably smelled better, but he actually doesn’t smell, not that he knows of. If anything he’s surprised his room doesn’t reek of that crappy lotion he uses to get himself off. “See!”

The taller brings you in once more and you push him off hard. “Absolutely not you maniac! Go shower now!”

“Fine!” Jungkook gives up and just as he’s about to retrieve the stuff he’ll need for his shower, he asks. “Your room or mine?”

He silently prays you pick your own because he cannot stand the smell of his own room any longer. Plus you still have yet to notice the come on his sheets. Jungkook would be so embarrassed if you saw his soiled bed like this. His Noona deserves nothing but the best. A clean, comfortable environment. His room was probably a safety hazard right now and he wasn’t willing to risk the chance for conversation.

“Mm, mine!” You decide with a pretty smile.

“Okay, Noona. I’ll be there in five. Don’t wait up for me.” With one last hug and a kiss at your temple, Jungkook goes off to shower and you retreat to your room.

Yes, it was a bit strange. Sleeping with your grown step-sibling and all, but that’s the bond you and Jungkook had grown. The bond was so strong. You guys did just about everything together and by each other’s side. There was never anything super strange about that to you.

Your friends once commented how it was just a bit weird. The strange relationship you carried with your step-sibling and that maybe you were just slightly a bit too close. That made them uncomfortable.

Every time they would come over, Jungkook was just there. Jungkook always came first. They heard it too many times and saw it with their own eyes. When they finally decided to speak to you about it, you freaked saying it was nothing like that! Your relationship was nothing short of platonic, if anything. Jungkook was just your sweet little dongsaeng. Nothing more, nothing less. What was so strange about that?

After that, your friends never brought it up ever again. There was no use. You would never see things in the way they would. It still made them uncomfortable from time-to-time, but Jungkook made you so happy so they kept to themselves for your sake.

Jungkook rushes while in the shower. He scrapes his body clean and practically flies out the shower. Jungkook knows it’s useless right now, but he applies a bit of his costly cologne. Only because he knows you love it so much, you compliment him every time he wears it. Since then, he has bought at least eight more times because he doesn't go a day without wearing the damn scent. He knows you will likely be dead asleep by the time he gets to climb in bed, but he wants it to stick to his skin and last until tomorrow then you will cling and smell the cologne until your nostrils get used to it.

With one last look into the mirror, Jungkook makes it to your room. The younger is obsessed with your room as much as he is with you. Your room smells, tastes, and looks just like you.

Every time you aren’t home, Jungkook practically lives in your room. The amount of times he’s masturbated in this exact bed. Your sheets are incredibly soft, very pink and the best part is you leave your scent all over them. Jungkook smells and smells your honey-like scent until he grows desperate, then he’ll make a mess all over himself, being careful so he doesn’t leak into your sheets. However, sometimes he’ll catch himself leaking all over your stuffed animals. The younger doesn’t even feel bad about it, not one bit. He probably should, he’s disgusting and shameful. For now, Jungkook lives with himself and his rancid thoughts.

When Jungkook gets to your room, he finds you already fast asleep, leaving the left side of your bed open for him. The younger salivates when he sees that your blanket isn’t covering your body, not at all. It’s almost like you’re inviting him, the whole world wants him to fail miserably and you clearly don’t care about his well-being.

By now, Jungkook is used to the way you dress. It kills him inside whenever he watches you walk out the house, perky breasts and that fat juicy ass tempting every walking man alive the minute you step out that front door. When you’re off to bed, you wear these little boy shorts that drive him insane because they cover nothing. Your plump ass falls right out from the stretchy material and Jungkook desperately wishes he could touch and squeeze until his heart’s content, but he would never touch you without your consent. He’s not an animal!

“Kookie?” He hears you slur in your sleep, small grabby hands reaching for him. Jungkook immediately places himself in bed, letting you wrap around his broad, strong figure. Even in the dark, he can see your ass hanging from outside your shorts. You must have gotten hot while waiting for him given that your blanket was nearly kicked down to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t care to pick it up.

And why would he? He’ll keep you warm now.

Jungkook falls asleep with ease that night. His nostrils breathing that sweet scent and your light calm exhales lull him straight to dreamland, where his dreams consist of a love so precious and extremely forbidden.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up before you, which wasn’t usual at all. He was used to finding you up and running bright and early, cooking him breakfast before leaving to work, like you usually did for him.

Before he even gets to open his eyes, he feels something push up against his stiff morning wood. It’s almost like he feels something constantly rocking against him, little-by-little. Jungkook shoves his erection deeper into the pillow-like sensation, chasing the enticing— irresistible feeling.

Jungkook’s hips start moving on their own accord, pushing and thrusting into the soft feeling of clouds. His morning wood grows tenfold when he hears a quiet whimper. He only drives his cock faster and further into that unknown realm, searching for heavenly release. Cock heavy and aching inside his briefs.

The younger almost jumps out of the bed when he hears the prettiest moan. He’s heard this delightful sound before. Only his Noona has the sweetest of sounds. He hates to admit it, but he’s heard these same moans before. And they didn’t come from his own doing, but Seojun’s. There were nights Jungkook couldn’t catch a wink of sleep because he overheard his step-sister getting fucked for hours on end.

…

“Fuck. Oh my god. Don’t stop.” He would throw his pillow over his head and squeeze, praying the fucking ended soon which it probably did because Seojun was disappointing as fuck. Pathetic fucking punk. He prayed for that or that he suffocated himself to death, either was fine for him. As long as his suffering was put to an end.

You sounded fucking perfect though. Jungkook could admit that easily. His Noona sure had a filthy mouth on her. Jungkook wanted to plug it with his fat cock. He wishes it was him instead and maybe one day it will. For now, he’ll continue dreaming.

“Yeah? Like that?” Seojun would grunt while Jungkook rolled his eyes until they would hit the back of his head. He couldn’t do this anymore. Jungkook knows it’s as easy as bringing it up, but how could he look at his perfect step-sister and say that to her! He simply refuses.

“Yes, like that. Yes please. Fuck, fuck, fuck— nghh!” And Jungkook was truly the worst. He could only hold himself back so much!

Jungkook rips the drawer open in his room, feeling around for lube, lotion fucking anything that will get his dick wet and when he finally finds it, he squirts a considerable amount and starts fisting his slicken cock. He grows thicker in his own hand. Jungkook wonders how his cock would look if it were your hand instead. He moans just imagining the idea.

“Coming.” Seojun’s muffled groans also echoed in his room. He doesn’t know how you do it and to be frank, he wishes Seojun would just shut the fuck up and do his job. The younger smirks knowing he’s struggling, leaving you in disappointment. He’s positive he’s never had his dick wet for more than ten minutes. What a bum! Can’t even please his girl.

Jungkook hears your moans grow louder. He swears he can hear them ringing in his fucking ears. Like you purposely wanna get caught. Jungkook gets too much into his head because he starts growing desperate, nearly coming all over himself.

If the situation was different, Jungkook knows he wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were passed out. It was only fair. You needed a real man, someone who could satisfy you without question. He knows he could do it. Fuck being experienced. Why does someone need all this experience if Seojun is proving that even by being a manwhore that doesn’t guarantee you a happy sex life or jackshit.

Point is, Seojun sucks and Jungkook will imagine it’s him instead of that lame fucker. He’ll imagine it’s him that’s making you feel all those things, that’s making you scream into the pillow. Though if it had really been him, Jungkook would snatch that pillow away from your mouth. He would want to hear every single sound that comes from your pouty mouth. Fuck, Jungkook couldn’t wait for you to be his and only his.

That night, Jungkook came all over his hand, some landing on his face. He wishes you were there to lick it clean.

…

Even in his fucking dreams, Jungkook feels like he can’t catch a fucking break.

His hips still, he doesn’t wanna further embarrass himself by humping into his step-sister’s ass like some horny desperate teenager. Jungkook knew this was a terrible idea, especially considering that he’s had the hardest time keeping his dirty— filth of thoughts to himself. Jungkook didn’t know how much longer he could live without knowing the taste of that perfect little pussy. How snuggly you would fit around his huge cock. He knows you could take him so well, you were made for him after all.

“S okay Jungkookie, ‘s normal. Noona isn’t mad.” The younger pretends to be asleep while he hears you babble in sleep, but you know he isn’t and to save his dignity (and yours) you allow it. Jungkook can’t help, but to think maybe you wanted it too. Was that crazy?

You both fall back to sleep. This time Jungkook gives you a respectful distance so he doesn’t commit the same mistake as before and when he wakes up, you act as if nothing happened and Jungkook appreciates that. He had the absolute best Noona, always looking out for her dongsaeng, no matter the situation.

As the days pass, you and Jungkook spend a lot of time together. Maybe it’s because you are single again or maybe it’s because you just wanna spend time with your (not so) little step-brother.

Jungkook’s the happiest. He no longer has to listen to you talk about Seojun and he gets to spend all the time in the world with you. For some time, he believes things are perfect.

Every night, you fall asleep on his chest. Waking up in his arms and Jungkook falls in love harder. Sometimes he steals kisses while you are sleeping. You wouldn’t mind, right?

He kisses your chubby cheeks, kisses your cute button nose, he’ll even kiss your smaller fingers, one-by-one. He has yet to taste those plump lips, but he doesn’t doubt they don't taste of flowers and honey.

“Jungkookie, you think you could fetch me my shoes? I left them near the closet door.” The younger hears you call out to him and being the good step-brother he was, he snatches your shoes up and starts walking away. It seems you forgot something else because Jungkook snaps his eyes to your phone, which starts buzzing with notifications.

Jungkook knew your password of course, you didn’t hide anything from your baby step-brother and he knows it would be wrong to invade your privacy, but he simply wants to see who it is. There’s absolutely no harm in that!

The taller snatches up your phone, disconnecting it from the charger and he sees red for a minute.

Three missed texts and two missed calls, in bold texts your phone reads, Seojun❤️.

He immediately smashes in your passcode without hesitation and any permission. What he finds is absolutely disgusting. Jungkook feels sick.

Seojun❤️: i miss you baby :( been thinking of that pussy can’t wait to stuff you full soon

Jungkook goes back to the messages from before, his ears are hot. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry his eyes out.

Seojun❤️: coming over

Asshole doesn’t even ask for permission, just does what he feels is right and that only riles Jungkook further.

Me: don’t can't tonight jungkook's home

Good girl, good Noona. He knew he could trust you, if only this asshole understood that you didn’t need anyone else and left you alone. Jungkook took care of you just fine. Just you and him. Always.

Seojun❤️: that never stopped us before?

Me: jun, please. not tonight.

Seojun❤️: so when? you guys are close again or what? you know how i feel about that guy.

Jungkook’s burning inside. He knows how you feel about him? The fuck was his problem. Jungkook’s tempted to smash your fucking phone in pieces. He’ll buy you a new one and it certainly won’t have this asshole’s number.

Me: he’s not just some guy. he’s my younger brother. of course we are close. soon. i’ll come see you soon.

Seojun❤️: step. step-brother.

Me: what does that have to do with anything jun? he’s like a little brother to me.

Seojun❤️: can he say the same?

What. The. Fuck.

Jungkook was gonna kill this stupid fuck.

Me: don’t talk about him that way. talk to you later.

Seojun❤️: whatever.

Then Jungkook rereads the messages over and over again. He’s fucking fuming. The younger hears the door before he hears you coming.

“Jungkook.” Your voice drowns in his ears. He snaps a mean gaze towards you, your phone is in his hands and he’s shaking. “Oh Jungkookie… I can explain.”

Jungkook throws your phone, landing hard against your bed, it bounces and falls to the floor. You jump in fear, your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly.

“Don’t. I’ve seen it all.” Your step-brother’s voice trembles. His voice is cold and rough around the edges. “How fucking could you Noona?”

You gasp at the sudden use of cuss words. Jungkook doesn’t cuss, not in front of you, not ever. He was a good boy, a very good boy.

“Jungkook, listen—”

“Shut up!” Jungkook snaps harshly. Those doe-eyes turn violent. “How could you!”

“H-He— we were just testing the waters.” You explain with a pout, your tears already threaten to fall. Jungkook isn’t a yeller. He never loses his patience, no matter how upset he could be, but you’ve officially cracked him.

“Testing the waters?” Jungkook ridicules with a dry laugh, eyes rolling. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re back with him.” The younger one says as if it’s a statement. His tone is sharp, dripping of disbelief and hatred. Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t fucking believe you, after everything!”

“Puh— please stop yelling at me.” Jungkook’s eyes soften for a little when he hears your voice shake and eyes dampen with tears.

His voice is still rough as he continues to spew the fire. “You really think he could keep you happy? That he could satisfy you? When will you finally see it, Noona? He’s fucking pathetic. Loser excuse of a man.”

Your pout grows bigger and you start crying softly, embarrassed that the scolding is coming from someone younger, coming from the one person that should be learning from you. Shamefully, you can’t even look him in the eyes, you avoid his sharp gaze and continue crying pretty tears.

Jungkook keeps spitting his words at you and you can’t bear them much longer. “You really think he will ever know what is best for you? That he could provide for you? I bet he—”

“And you do?!” You yell between your blur of tears, feeling like shit.

“I do! I fucking do. Everything I do is for you, for us Noona. I’m here working my ass off to rebuild you and you let him break you over and over! Aren’t you sick of him? Sick of this? Because I am. I fucking am. I hate him and I hate that you let him come between us!” The taller uses his height to his advantage, towering over you while he spews his truth.

“For me? For us?” You speak in disbelief, scoffing and wiping off your tears roughly with your long sleeve. “Jungkook, you speak like we are together! This isn’t normal. The way you care for me, it— it isn’t normal. You should be getting lost in the lights at your age, dating around. I’ve never seen you even speak to another girl besides me! It’s strange! Plus, Seojun… he’s truly the only one that cares for me. Besides you.”

Jungkook explodes. The taller tugs you towards him, a strong hand on your throat while he squeezes mercilessly. You immediately wrap your hands around his wrists, trying to shove him off, but Jungkook’s much taller, much stronger than you are. It’s no use, the more you pull, the more he tightens his hold. You struggle to breathe, hiccuping dry tears.

“I really tried to do this your way Noona. I tried to be patient and do this at your pace, but you’re fucking clueless. I love you. Don’t you see it? Of course I care. I’ve always cared. I’ve loved you since the very first day. I tried to overcome these emotions but the more I denied them, the stronger they became. I let them consume me. I’ve never been more at peace, but I can’t stand here and watch you ruin yourself any longer. I can’t. You and Seojun are done. Do you understand?” Jungkook’s hand is still on your throat and you just nod desperately, hoping that he lets go some time soon.

You should have known, should have seen it coming. People warned you, at least, they tried. You wouldn’t listen and refused to believe it (or see it). Jungkook wasn’t a bad person, he still isn’t. He’s just confused and young. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not in love it’s just fascination, yeah, you’ll say that for now because it makes you feel better. Not because you definitely feel something splur in your own (tainted) heart.

“Good baby, good. I never wanna see, hear, or know anything about that stupid fuck ever again.” Jungkook loosens his grip a bit and you immediately take a gush of breath. “He’s not good for you. Never will be. You deserve so much more Noona, isn’t that right?”

Between a few tears, you keep nodding.

“Yeah, only Daddy knows what’s best for you. Right?” The younger one doesn't even blink when saying the words. For a second, you think about who he is referring to as daddy, but then you realize. This was so fucking wrong, and yet you feel yourself slipping already. Maybe he was right. What’s the point of denying it? “Only I could ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Uh baby?”

You nod with a muffle cry.

“Speak.” Jungkook orders. “Tell Daddy that he’s right. Let me hear it.”

“Y-Yes Daddy.” He hears you sweetly comply and even through a blur of tears, you see him smiling down at you.

“Good, good girl. Now, give Daddy a kiss baby.” Jungkook leans down and you hesitantly meet him halfway. The kiss is very sweet considering the pressing situation. Jungkook curls his lips around yours like there’s nothing off or wrong about this situation. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, like he’s been dying to get to do this with you. You don’t know whether to be happy about that idea or fall sick to your stomach. Either way, you continue to kiss him.

The taller pries your mouth open with his tongue and you allow him access, pouty lips slack. Jungkook sucks and licks into your mouth, greedily tasting the juices on your tongue. His tongue clashes with your messily, spit mixing in the process. It's dirty and filthy. And it is extremely wrong.

You feel so guilty because you’re the older one of the two. You should be the one putting a stop to this, but the more his tongue explores your mouth, the more you dip into the dark— alluring abyss.

“Been dying to do that.” Jungkook breathes into your lips savoring the taste of your salty tears and cherry chapstick in his mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited.”

You whimper quietly and the younger soothes you in his arms. “W-We shouldn’t, Jungkook, not yu—you.”

His smile wavers for a second. “Don’t be scared, Noona. Who else other than me huh? Who can love you like I love you?”

You close your sad eyes to imagine what would have happened if you just came to grab your shoes yourself, wishing you had done that instead. You would have seen your phone and picked up the call instead. This was so wrong. With a deep sigh, you let the darkness consume you too.

“I love you, Noona.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes awfully speaking the truth.

“I-I love you too.” The taller smiles and kisses you once again, this time you don’t even fight it. You don’t hesitate. You take time to enjoy the feel of his lips moving passionately against yours and let yourself be loved. For once, you feel loved and that’s enough for you.

Jungkook takes your cheeks in his calloused hands and starts kissing everywhere. Leaving his trace all over your face. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your lips again. Jungkook brings his nose across your jaw, leaving little pecks here and there. When he reaches your neck, he starts licking and sucking every inch of sensitive skin, hoping to leave his marks behind.

The younger is satisfied when he sees the dark spots he’s left to beautifully decorate your skin.

“Open.” He taps two fingers against your mouth, wrapping his other hand around your neck and you slightly slack your jaw on command. Jungkook shoves those two fingers into your mouth, pushing them down against your wet compliant tongue. He watches you struggle to take them further, gagging a few times around his sloppy fingers. Jungkook was right, you look so fucking good when something is fucking your mouth. “So good for Daddy.”

Whining against his fingers, Jungkook pulls them out. Cock already feeling tight and heavy inside his pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of these and you weren’t doing any better. You could feel slick start to dampen your panties.

“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his.

“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”

Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”

“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied.

He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you caused? Get on your knees baby.”

And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain.

“Hurts? Here, my love.” Jungkook awes with empathic doe-eyes, without hesitation he reaches for one of your softest pillows and places it down below your knees, helping you onto the comfortable cushion. “Better?”

It is shocking and not at the same time, how quickly Jungkook seems to be okay and fine with this whole thing. If it’s true that he’s been dying to do this for years then in a fucked up way, it kinda makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are family, on paper and in every way that it matters. Your parents are married for fuck’s sake.

“Yes.” You simply respond and Jungkook smiles contentedly.

“Yes what?” He asks, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You hesitate, but end up giving in. Does it even really matter anymore? The deed had been done. You fucked yourself over the second you let him take control of the situation. Jungkook owns you. “Yes Daddy.”

Jungkook towers over you, thick muscular thighs stand tall before you. He hums satisfied with your response. “Open up wide for Daddy.”

The taller has quick hands on his belt, snatching it off himself. Then he pulls his jeans down and tosses them aside without care. He keeps his briefs on for now. Jungkook needs to have you work for it, just a bit. It’s his right after all.

“Pull my dick out.” He rasply orders and you gulp at the sight. He’s packing, you can’t even see it yet, but you are sure the real thing is not much different. Your hands shake as they come up to the waistband of his boxers. You’re about to see your baby step-brother’s cock and you don’t even seem bothered enough to care.

Carefully, you pull them down slowly, revealing inch-by-inch. The tip of his dick pops out first, his slit already dripping pre-come. You practically salviate, gums aching to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Jungkook swears he might fucking burst all over your face before he even gets to stick it in. Though he hates Seojun’s guts, he kinda gets it now. Your soft touch on his sensitive girth nearly makes him shiver.

To be fair, it is Jungkook’s first time! He’s never, ever done this before. He saved himself for the only person that deserved to have him. It was easy for him actually. There was not a damn person that made or could ever make him question his choice. He knew from the very beginning, it was you or no one else.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit terrified. He doesn’t wanna ruin this whole thing, he’s seen plenty of videos online, mainly through Twitter courtesy of Taehyung. Jungkook is extremely grateful. Seriously, he doesn’t know what he would have done without him. He doesn’t trust much people, but when he confessed at his grown age of twenty-two that he was still a virgin during a night of mixed drinks, Taehyung simply brushed it off and told him there was nothing wrong about that!

Taehyung understood him to some degree. Sex is an intimate experience and you should only ever share it with the people who you truly love, but he was a manslut, through-and-through, so he couldn’t comprehend how Jungkook has lived so long without it. Major respect and props to him, but Taehyung could fucking never.

Either way, Taehyung would send clips here and there as pointers to what some people could possibly like and enjoy during sex. Jungkook took plenty of mental notes, he was beyond ready. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but now that he has you right where he wants you, he’s shaking inside. He doesn’t know how sex workers do this on the regular.

Finally, his dick is out, the whole nine-inch monster and you don’t even have the ability to face him anymore. His cock weighs heavy on your smaller hand. It’s the perfect fit, Jungkook thinks.

With a shallow swallow, Jungkook tugs your head toward it. His tip leaks a bit and Jungkook hopes you don’t notice that he has no clue what he’s doing. After watching porn for so long, he can only hope that everything he’s doing so far is pleasurable for you both.

“Lick it.” He says, voice rough and you do as told.

Cautiously, your pink tongue slips out and experimentally starts licking. The second your moist tongue is on his cock, Jungkook’s guttural moan escapes his throat.

This was gonna be much harder than he thought, but Jungkook’s been practicing. Jungkook is determined to last longer than any other fuck you’ve ever had. He’s determined to be the best and show you exactly what you’ve been missing, wasting all that time on stupid fucks that could never please and love you the way he could.

“Open wider baby, yeah just like that.” Along with the tip of his cock, Jungkook shoves his thumb inside. Your mouth is so wet and warm, taking him exactly how he imagined you would. The younger wonders how much more you could take.

“Gonna fuck your mouth now.” With one last warning, Jungkook plants his feet firmly and thrusts himself deep, causing you to gag so prettily around him when the tip hits the back of your throat.

Clearly, you aren’t used to taking so much cock at once, Jungkook supposes he could go easier on you. But do you really deserve that from him?

Jungkook doesn’t think so.

So he fucks into your mouth harder and faster, his thumbs cleaning the tears that run down your face. Jungkook doesn’t hold back any sounds, he moans roughly when you suck a bit harder on it like you want it to hurt him. Good thing Jungkook likes the pain. It’s why he tatted himself so many times. Jungkook embraces everything, even punishing pain.

“Easy with your teeth baby, don’t wanna hurt Daddy, do we?” The younger is a bit taken back when he sees you nod furiously, mouth full of cock, struggling while taking him deeper. God, you truly do look the best this way. “Oh? How will Daddy fuck you then silly?”

You whine muffles with his girth down your throat, secretly rolling your hips on the pillow, rubbing friction against your clothed sex.

“Huh? What’d you say?” Jungkook teases as he continues to brutally fuck your sloppy mouth, spit leaking down your chin. “I can’t understand you. Sorry!”

But he’s not sorry, not one bit! He practically eats you alive with his eyes, feeling the heat start to form in his stomach. Jungkook’s ready to come.

He forces you to deepthroat him with a ruthless thrust, pushing your head down on his length, as far as you could go. Jungkook doesn’t dare let go until your eyes water beyond control and he doesn’t hear you breathe through your nose. When he releases the tight grip on your head, you are desperately breathing heavily, coughing spit.

“Puh—Please.” Your voice breaks. Jungkook looks down and almost feels bad, you look a mess. Pretty little mess. “N-No more.”

He considers it, but he won’t let you go that easy. “Make me come, then you can beg for mercy after.”

Even after all this, Jungkook’s words surprise you. How? How was it fucking possible? For so long, you believed Jungkook was a certain person, a kind-hearted, romantic sweetheart. In a way, he still is. Jungkook truly believes that this was meant for him. That his whole purpose was to be yours. He never showed this side of himself ever and maybe that’s why it terrifies you. How much is he capable of and how much are you willing to give up for him?

Jungkook throws his head back and moans loudly when you start sucking with purpose, your intentions set clear. He’ll come within seconds if you continue like this.

You don’t let up. If he wants to come, he will. You suck down hard, taking his cock as far as your throat allows. There’s no need to lie, Jungkook tastes and even smells amazing down there. You’ve always known he’s been a clean freak, but he really does take care of himself well.

Gargling him down, Jungkook starts to whine and slow down his pace, but you continue your menacing behavior, sucking him off the way you imagined he would like it. And Jungkook starts seeing stars. He knows that after this, he’ll never want to not do this. This was much, much better than fisting his own cock. You’ve completely ruined him.

“I— I’m gonna come.” Jungkook says and almost immediately comes, bursting his release inside your mouth. “Swallow it.”

There’s no doubt that you won’t. You continue sucking until he’s completely empty and swallow him down.

Jungkook’s eyes are unrecognizable. Not that he looks any different besides his fucked out state, but they are so sharp and dangerously sexy. “Show me.”

You stick your tongue out as far as you can and show him how nicely you’ve cleaned up after him, Jungkook could come again.

Once he’s satisfied, his rough voice booms. “Come here.”

You stand on two feet, your cunt is surely dripping because you feel your panties sticking to your folds. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take you back in his mouth, not bothered one bit about the fact that you just swallowed his semen. He licks into your mouth like he’s famished, tasting himself on your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t know how he will survive without this now.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” Even though you’ve pretty much gone as far as you can with this, you still hesitate. Maybe it's your guilt or maybe it’s because you are liking this much more than you should, that you still comply even when you shouldn’t.

Your pillow gets left and forgotten where it currently sits and you lay down, stomach pressing into the mattress. Jungkook pats your head and you nearly purr.

“Lift yourself up baby.” Jungkook’s so fucking hard still, he doesn’t get how this is possible. Staring at your perfect petite figure, he starts to get it. “Gonna take these off now.”

Jungkook slowly tugs on your shorts and you shake your head, stopping him once again, your hand flies to his wrist. “N-No.”

“Don’t make me tie your hands Noona, be good for me pretty.” And once again, Jungkook wins. You don’t see yourself winning any time soon. “Gonna undress you now, keep those precious hands away from me for now.”

Repeating his actions from earlier, Jungkook pulls down your shorts and your ass falls right from out the lousy material.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, taking in the view as you whimper softly. Your ass is even better, almost bare, your fat pussy peeks through your thin panties. He runs his finger along where your slit should be, feeling your slick dampen his fingertip over the fabric, moaning quietly. The large wet spot on your soiled panties, told him all he needed to know, you wanted this just as much as he did.

With his index finger, he curls his finger along your waistband and brings your panties off as well and the sight doesn’t disappoint. Jungkook licks his dry lips and starts to get to work.

The younger spreads your folds into a “V” and sticks his nose so far into your glistening cunt without warning. Jungkook starts to eat you out like never before and you crumble, moaning and squealing against the feeling of his perfect lips munching on your dripping pussy.

The taller doesn’t let you get any further, heavy-hand on your hip while he keeps you in place. He slurps your sweet slick into his mouth, swallowing down every drop greedily without any fucking plans on stopping soon. Jungkook has found his purpose.

Jungkook was made to eat your fat juicy pussy. There wasn’t anything better than this. Not even the blowjob felt as good as this is making him feel. Jungkook knows that it has nothing to do with your skills or anything of the sort, but because he loves the way you push and pull away from him. The more you run, the more he feels like chasing. He’s addicted to the strangled sounds that escape your lips, crying out loudly against your will. It was perfect!

You squeal when you feel him suckle on your sensitive bud, playing with it between his teeth. He’s almost tempted to bite, but he’s hurt his baby enough. “S good Noona, tastes like candy.”

His words vibrate inside your cunt and you already feel your climax coming in heavy. He was gonna drive you insane!

“Please… oh my god. Please. I can’t.” You swear you feel Jungkook smiling even as he’s eating you out, nose deep inside your cute little cunt. Guess that answers his question, you are definitely enjoying yourself way more than you should.

“You can baby, you fucking will.” He nearly growls into your folds, licking and eating everything he could swallow like a madman. Jungkook didn’t wanna stop until you had nothing more to give, until your pussy stopped oozing out that sweet essence. But it seems the more he licks, the more that squirts out!

Jungkook doesn’t mind though, not at all, not even one bit. He’ll eat your pussy until it kills him.

“Ohhhh, nhmmm fuck. I- Daddy, I’m cominggg.” He hears your fucked out slur and sucks harder on your clit, lapping at all the juices that kept drizzling down. He’s surprised to hear you call him Daddy, he didn’t ask you to, but you were so good for him either way. Jungkook didn’t need to ask anymore, you were so far gone to care about anything else when his tongue kept slipping inside your messy hole.

“Come on my tongue baby. Come for Daddy.” With a strangled cry you come and Jungkook feels the second you explode, because your pussy almost flushes out everything it can give him. He sucks it all up though and doesn’t stop until he feels you trembling under his touch, barely holding up. “Good, so good for me baby. God, I love you.”

Jungkook tosses his shirt aside because he’s grown super hot and looks down at your fucked out figure. All he did was eat pussy, imagine what else he could do with that humongous monster cock he drags around.

He didn’t fail to notice how pretty your tiny hole was from behind, both of them. Jungkook wanted to eat your ass too, but maybe that was for another time, when he gets the pleasure to focus on one at a time.

“Turn around for me baby.” The younger one softly speaks.

There’s a bit of a struggle, but you land on your back successfully and whine when you see his bare figure. Jungkook’s worked his ass off to get it. He’s so strong and shredded, but nonetheless, the sight of his sculpted body makes you drool nearly every time.

“Gonna put it in now.” The way he says it throws you off, he seems a bit embarrassed, shy maybe? And it doesn’t make sense because not even seconds ago, the younger was so confident about every little thing he was doing to you, ruining you entirely for anyone else.

“W-Wait.” You rush, pushing your hand against his chest. Jungkook freezes in place, his hand already wrapped around his cock. “Condom?”

And like that, he snaps again, those once innocent doe-eyes turn dark again and you regret even reminding him. “We won’t be needing that silly Noona, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you and you’re gonna be the perfect Mommy. Won’t you?”

You wanna shake your head so bad, your mind is screaming at you to say no, to fucking stop him before it’s too fucking late, but your body speaks for you. Your pussy keeps leaking your arousal and you can’t believe your reality. You want it so bad, you don’t really care what comes with the consequences of your actions. If your step-brother wants a baby, well then…

“Isn’t that right Noona? You’ll be the perfect Mommy.” Jungkook’s voice sounds sinister and you can barely recognize the person he is. “Daddy will take care of you both. Don’t you want that? Huh my love?”

With sick, deranged thoughts in your head, you slowly nod in agreement and Jungkook scrunches his nose into a sweet, kind smile. “Of course you do. You're the best Noona. Gonna fuck you now okay?”

You nod again. This time, you pry your legs open for him. Letting him use you the way he wants and needs. Jungkook licks his lips and takes his heavy cock in hand. Before he lines it up, he spits perfectly along his length, coating his dick all around so it could slide in without further complications and then he pushes the tip inside.

The minute you feel the intrusion, just the fucking tip, you gasp loudly, trembling into his surprisingly gentle touch.

“C-Can’t. Won’t fu—fit.” You say breaking between whimpers.

Jungkook’s gaze is dark and heavy on you and he gets right into your face when he whispers the next words. “Oh but you will. You already did.”

Just as you are about to question him, in one powerful blow, Jungkook thrusts himself all the way inside your tight velvety-walls and you run away from his hold.

And like always, there’s no point. Before you realize it, Jungkook’s pulling out and ramming back inside you. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the painful whines coming from your lips, his eyes are too focused on the way his cock disappears into your perfect pussy.

There was no better way to lose his virginity, Jungkook thought. This was exactly what he’s been fucking missing all his life.

The pain simmers eventually and it starts to feel overwhelmingly good. Your pained whimpers turn into high-pitched cries and Jungkook sticks his face into your neck, moaning roughly against your ear while he continues to work his way into your walls.

Jungkook will never, absolutely never, go back to his fists. The heat, natural slick, and tightness. His fists don’t even come close.

Skin is clapping on skin, brutally setting a rapid pace. His dick is so sensitive right now, he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. Jungkook doesn’t even know how fucking long it’s been. Or if your guy's parents will come home soon. He doesn’t even give a fuck. You are his.

His to fuck. His to play with. And his to love.

“Gonna come so deep inside this pussy. Gonna make sure you end up swollen and pregnant once I’m done with you. Noona’s so tight.” He breathes heavily into your neck, sweat dripping from the younger.

His words start to rile you up for some reason. Do you even get a fucking choice? The dicking is almost that good you let yourself fall for a few seconds, allowing Jungkook to fuck into you like some fuck-doll.

Without thinking, you reach for his fluff of sweaty hair and tug. Hard. When he comes up to question you, you slap him so hard that his face snaps towards that direction.

Jungkook’s merciless pounding stills.

For a moment, all you hear is heavy breathing, yours mixed with his. It takes Jungkook a while to look back at you and when you do dare look into his eyes, all you see is dark, dark lust. Lots of it.

Jungkook pulls you in roughly from your throat for a bruising wet kiss. His cock slips from inside you and you whine into his mouth at the loss. You already want him back inside, you took it for granted.

The taller chuckles dryly, almost too sexy for his own good when he catches you grinding your folds desperately against his wet length. “Baby already misses Daddy’s dick. This is how it’s gonna be huh? Okay. I’ll play by your rules baby, don’t fucking say I didn’t warn you.”

You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath when you are already pressed face down into the mattress. Jungkook parts your fat ass, slides his cock between them and teases your sweet little hole menacingly.

Jungkook slaps his cock down a few times, the whole nine inches, right onto your dripping folds. They practically were screaming for attention and not to worry, Daddy was home. Slick would stick to his cock, maybe he should make you lick him clean.

“Why?” The younger one hears you crying softly.

“We’ve been over this Noona, only I’ll ever love you how you deserve to be loved. Stop worrying so much. Want you to come on Daddy’s cock. We’ll talk after m’kay?” Jungkook reasons and stabilizes the situation like if you have any choice in this and as if this wasn’t absolutely sick. “Let me take care of you Noona.”

The choice was made before you even realized it.

“Okay… but don’t— don’t come inside Jungkook. I’m not on birth control.” Seojun would always make use of a condom, you forgoing those hormonal-consuming pills. You don’t get to see this, but the younger one smiles wide like if you just gave him the green light. What you don’t know doesn’t harm you. One day, Jungkook thinks.

“Okay Noona, whatever you say.” Jungkook spits on his cock one last time before he carefully pushes back inside. The prodding feeling still leaves you in between sharp gasps and painful whines, ripping right through you.

“Oh my god… Jungkook- too big.” You grab your closest pillow nearly tearing through the thin fabric, using it to have something to tug and bite on.

“Yeahhh, but Noona takes it so well.” Jungkook moans when he feels you squeeze hard around him, basically watching your asshole wink at him too. “Fuck baby, maybe I should fuck this tiny hole too.”

You whimper when you feel his thumb brushing against the fluttering muscle, back arching into the frail sensation. “Mff—no please, I’ve n-never done it. Please.”

“Okay. Not today baby.” Not today or ever again you hope. You pray that whatever is happening today starts and ends today, but for now, you settle for that answer.

But the second Jungkook’s thumb leaves your delicate asshole, he grips onto the fat of your ass cheeks and starts mounting you from behind like an animal. The stretch still burns, not used to taking so much at once, but he can tell when it starts feeling equally as good for you because you squirm on his cock like a worm. He watches you pull away from him, but he’s gripping you hard, feeling that ass bounce back on him. Jungkook curses when he hears you start moaning into your pillows.

“Nu-uh, wanna hear it.” He pulls you by your throat, your back flushing against his sweaty rising chest. In this position, he’s reaching deeper inside your cunt, g-spot being constantly abused.

“Fuck-k-k, oh fuck —nghh.” Jungkook practically soaks in every noise that comes from your mouth, hips clapping hard into your ass. He takes the time to enjoy this, squeezing the fat that jiggles. Maybe he’ll convince you next time to let him fuck your tight ass. After all, he knows Noona could never say no to her sweetest dongsaeng.

The younger sucks more hickeys onto your skin, anywhere that he can really. Jungkook sucks one on the side of your neck, shoulder, and your back. He’s obsessed. Tomorrow he shall do the exact same thing, he’ll keep you on his cock forever now that he knows what it is like. Taehyung was so right. Sex was amazing.

“Let me hear you Noona, think I’ll come just like this.” Jungkook moans roughly in your ear as he continues to pump your walls full of cock, pussy dripping buckets around his length.

You let out moans like water, feeling his dick destroy your insides, he must have rearranged your guts by now. “Think—think m’ gonna come Daddy.”

Jungkook smirks, grabbing your chin roughly and kisses you sloppily, including tongue and all. He loves the sound of his name and title from your pouty, gasping mouth. “Fucked you so good baby doesn’t know if she’s coming or not. Daddy’s the best, isn’t he?”

“Ye–yeah Daddy.” You slur in a trippy haze and just like that, you’re dropped into the sheets again, and flipped with ease in his hold. Jungkook’s dick surprisingly doesn’t even slip out and you don’t know if you moaned again because of the feeling of his dick impaling your pelvic walls or because he can toss you around like some rag doll and have his way with you. Daddy’s the strongest.

Either way your moans are like sin, high pitched whimpers and incoherent mumbles coming from your plump lips like hushed prayers. “Gonna come Daddy, ‘m gonna come ‘s hard.”

“It’s okay baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. I got you.” Jungkook goes feral when he sees the way you practically convulsate on his dick, squirting all over yourself. He’s only ever seen this on those shitty videos Taehyung sends him and he warned him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, not unless done right and when the other person is really into it. Jungkook’s flying over the moon right now knowing that he’s the reason why you can’t help, but squirt messily all over his cock. “Perfect. Noona’s perfect.”

The taller grips your thighs for support, fucking you through your intense orgasm until your inner thighs are all covered in your silky juices, being pounded into overestimation. Jungkook is really close himself and he knows nothing would compare to coming deep inside your walls, but he should respect his Noona’s wishes, at least this once.

“Where should I come baby? Huh? Tell me.” Sweat accumulates on his forehead, dripping loads of it. Jungkook’s thighs burn from the same constant movement, practically bunny jackhammering into your pussy. He never imagined such a practice could be so tiring, he doesn’t even have to go work out tonight!

By this point, you are in and out of consciousness. Jungkook hasn’t stopped splitting you in two, your aching everywhere, but the feeling is mind-blowing. Not even Seojun could make you feel this good, not anyone.

You were in doubt. Jungkook had to have been experienced by the way he fucked. There’s not enough stamina to fuck the way he does. Jungkook’s a beast and he fucks like one too, using your cunt like a toy he can stick his dick into. Your pussy is stretched in ways unknown to man, perfectly molding around his cock, squeezing him in all the right ways. The more you feel his cock pressing into your pelvic floor, the more you start to realize, Jungkook belongs right here. Where he has been.

“Tell me baby. Want Daddy to come all over your pussy, give you a little facial? Tell me— fuck!” Jungkook’s pants grow hot and heavy, his orgasm approaching him hard. His cock is sensitive to the max, but he doesn’t stop, fucking you relentlessly through it all.

Another realization hits within that moment. It’s already gone to the point of no return. You’ve sucked your baby step-brother off and let him drop his seed in your mouth. He’s kissed and licked every part of your pussy, like any good boy would. You’ve let your dongsaeng use your most intimate parts for his own personal pleasure and the worst part is you’ve actually enjoyed it all. Selfishly, you decide he’s the only one that could ever be right for you. Jungkook had been right all along, he was made for you.

“Inside Daddy, wan— you inside.” Jungkook’s hips freeze as he hears you plead so prettily, tears streaming down your flushed face. God, he almost busts the moment he hears your honey-like voice begging for his release. “Please Daddy. Come inside muh— Noona’s pussy.”

“Yeah, want me inside baby?” He goes back to thrusting, but this time it’s slower, more precise and spot-on, deeper. You’ve completely lost awareness of time as well and maybe a sense of who you were to him. Jungkook fucking you senseless and watching you fall deeper into the heat of haze with no remorse or regret. After this, there was no more to discuss, you were completely his.

“Yeah— yeah wan it Daddy. Want it.” Jungkook happily complies, knowing you would come around if he just fucked you good enough to forget that you were off that horrid pill and that he could plant his ssed in your fertile little pussy and give you his child to bear.

His brows furrow as he concentrates on the mess between your legs, it’s beautiful and all his fucking fault. He wants to bury his head into it, but first, he’ll come deep inside that swollen pussy and finish you off. Jungkook takes a moment to adjust and starts jackhammering your cunt again, this time his only purpose is to plant his seed as deep as it can go, claiming even the most sacred parts. Birth control be fucked!

Jungkook’s thrust grow sloppy by the minute and you don’t know how much longer you can take until he’s fucked you completely faint. Mouth starting to feel parched, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, kissing you through rough strokes. He devours your lips like honey and feels you start to clench around him again. He feels a little gash of juices trinkle along his slit and Jungkook realizes he’s made you come again by the way your walls clench around his cock.

“Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna come inside now.” All you can do is nod between blacking out, not wanting to waste his precious, healthy come.

With one last growl, Jungkook’s coming deep. The last thing you remember is the heavy weight of Jungkook’s cock twitching and releasing the milky substance across your plushy warm inviting walls.

—-

“Hey honey, how was work today?” Your voice is soft and light as petals while you watch the food come to a boil on the stove, whisking it around and adding a bit more salt for taste while you wait for your husband’s response.

“Fine baby. Had a long meeting with one of our staff members about missing numbers, but the problem was taken care of.” Your husband’s voice is manly and smooth all around, almost husky-like. He goes to kiss your delicate cheek, watching your eyes flutter as he wraps hulky arms around you, bringing your back flush to his front. “Hope you haven’t been on your feet all day, my love. You should be resting, my love.”

You smile at your caring husband, enjoying his musky scent and broad body. “Of course not babe, I’m almost done with the stew. Help me grab a bowl?”

“Mm.” Your husband hums and retreats to grab a bowl from a cabinet that is far too high for your reach with a quick pat to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “This one okay baby?”

“Yeah!”

The taller comes back with the empty bowl and you are quick to serve the steamy stew into the dish, always making sure your husband comes home to a warm homemade meal after his long days at work. He watches you from afar admiring the beauty and power his precious wife holds.

You barely had time to pamper yourself today, but you managed to clean up well. Your hair was in a beautiful half-up half-down pony with the cutest white bow attached. Your makeup was perfect, a little bit of everything to fix the small imperfections you saw in the mirror earlier. And the most perfect little flowy dress with flowers decorating the material to fit your current body shape. You were absolutely perfect. An angel drawn to Earth.

“You’re so beautiful baby.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, tickling your neck with his cool breath. “Smell so good.”

“That’s the food.” You both laugh a bit, a hand cupping your swollen stomach pressing himself against your back-end yet again. The feeling was alike anything. He was starting a whole new life alongside the center of his entire world. Jungkook was the happiest he could ever be.

“Nu-uh, that’s all you. Although, the food does smell impeccable. My tastebuds are craving for something else. Can’t wait to eat you—”

“Stop!” Jungkook laughs as you wack his hands away from your belly and continue to serve his bowl full.

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook takes his bowl and waits for you at the dining table, you follow closely behind and sit beside him. “Thank you, Noona.”

You don’t get to hear that word often these days, mainly because it reminds you both of your previous relationship, but the younger one lets it slip from time-to-time, still as sweet as before, always by your side and doing his absolute best to please and look after you and the new addition.

Coming from a broken family, Jungkook never imagined a life could be so simple and beautiful. Lately, Jungkook’s life is like a movie. He can’t believe this all belongs to him, what more can a man ask for. He has the kindest, most beautiful wife and she bears his healthy infant in her huge pregnant tummy. He owns a huge house, working his ass off to get it and established himself pretty early in his career, buying his wife only the best of things. Jungkook settled only for the best and he found that besides you, a true happily ever after, if you will.

The rest is simply history, unimportant through your eyes. The only thing that mattered now is that you were both happy and extremely loved.

The end!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x noona #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x y/n #jungkook smut #dead dove do not eat #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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dr-marbles · 3 months ago

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A Guide to Aphrodite’s Epithets

Aphrodite is a goddess of many forms. She is one of the older goddesses, born from Ouranos. She is the sister to the Titans, the Furies, the Meliae, and the Giants.

She is the mother of Harmonia and Eros, the Graces and Peitho, but also of Anteros, of Phobos and Deimos and Adestria. She is vengeful and chaotic, existing in the passion that drives wars and artists, in the lust that fuels affairs and assaults, in the love that fuels suicides and marriage.

In my experience, the epithet you worship is insanely important. Aphrodite Ourania is much more lighthearted than Aphrodite Skotia, or Aphrodite Tymborychos.

Aphrodite Ourania is a Lady of the Heavens. She is lipstick marks on softly written poetry, she is pink roses in a pearl encrusted vase.

Aphrodite Ambologera is children braiding each others hair at kindergarten, teenagers whispering about boys and girls, twenty one year olds partying hard and living life.

Aphrodite Anadyomene is the feeling of ocean water over your feet. She is collecting seashells on the shore, collecting sand and water for spells and rituals.

Aphrodite Apaturia is teenage drama, that seems life ending at first but silly as you grow older. She is the gossip and drama that weaves its way into youth, and she smiles as you live your own movie.

Aphrodite Apotrophia is the mother standing over her child, watchful for creeps. She is the older sister clinging to the younger, she is the one you pray to after being assaulted, the one that will hold you close and take revenge for you.

Aphrodite Areia stands beside her lover in battle. She sees the passion that drove these young men to war, sees the fight in their eyes. She fights alongside them, whispering reminders in their ears about who they are fighting for, for their wives and daughters at home.

Aphrodite Despoina is seen in femme fatales, the click of black stilettos and women that know their worth. She stands beside women with fire in their eyes, by hardworking women that know they are meant for more, by CEOS that know their place, and that their place is at the top.

Aphrodite Gameloi walks you down the aisle alongside your father, watches as you say your vows. She stands beside Hera and blesses your marriage, crying and wishing you the best as your own mother would.

Aphrodite Gentyllis sits with you as you birth your first child, and every child after that. She holds your hand and kisses you on the forehead, wishing you the best as she leaves for the next.

Aphrodite Melainis looks in shadows at night, watching you as you walk home. She will take revenge for you if you need, and it will be delivered brutally.

Aphrodite Nikephoros stands beside olympians and generals alike, celebrating in their victory. She stands beside soldiers as they rejoice, by athletes as they cry, and by children as they win their first tournament. She is there for the small and the big victories, from making your first successful dinner to winning a war.

Aphrodite Pandemos sees no difference between a while child or a black child. You are all her children, and she will kiss you on the forehead and tell you she is proud. She stands with you, whether you can afford fancy offerings or altars, she is of the people, for the people.

Aphrodite Peitho stands beside you as you seduce your first lover. She is there as you beg your parents for a dog, as you persuade your mother to let you sleepover at your friends house for the first time.

Aphrodite Skotia stands beside you as you insult. She stands with you as you cover yourself in the ruins of your purity, and she cradles you when you weep for your innocence. When you cry over your sins, she is there, reminding you that she too, is Unholy, and it is okay.

Aphrodite Tymborychos stands with the survivors community, with rape victims and domestic abuse survivors. She stands with women that have slaughtered their abusers, with daughters and sons that have stood up to abusive parents. She stands in the middle of riots for freedom, because if her children cannot stand free then their oppressors should not stand at all.

She is all of these at once, and she is there. You can find her wherever you look, in poetry books or romance novels. You can find her in the laughter of young girls and the tears of victims. You can find her in graveyards, whispering her revenge to abusers and murderers, reminding them that she is a gravedigger and a mother, and harm that befalls her children is a slight to her.

DISCLAIMER: You do not have to choose an epithet. This is here to remind you that Aphrodite comes in many forms, and the Aphrodite you worship sometimes won’t line up with someone else’s. <3

#aphrodite #hellenic worship #hellenic deities #hellenic pagan #hellenism #hellenic polytheism #aphrodite posts #this is me shamelessly preaching the ideals of aphrodite by the way

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hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago

Text

Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?”

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice.

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder.

“Follow me little one.” The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient.

Fun.

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try.

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear.

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you.

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head.

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general?

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation.

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had.

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night.

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do.

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before?

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities.

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail.

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement.

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off. A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone.

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out.

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end.

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground.

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you.

“Oh dear. Trouble already?”

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away.

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest.

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing.

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened.

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable.

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked.

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold.

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking.

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply.

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words.

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…�� the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap.

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open.

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem.

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip.

A doe.

The only doe he knew of in the hotel.

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

....always and forever,

....in yesterday.

....rusty cage

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him.

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology.

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck.

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar.

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him.

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless.

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern.

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face.

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you.

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip.

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal.

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe. His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest.

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.”

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him.

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you.

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up.

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus.

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you.

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place.

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body.

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were … inside you.

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass.

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole.

Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience.

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance.

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment.

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you.

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?”

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.”

With a blink, his eyes were black. His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start.

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct.

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body.

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly.

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach.

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you.

Not a new sensation, but a different one.

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open.

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not.

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability.

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.”

Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been.

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising.

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck.

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties.

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord.

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.”

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him.

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core.

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected.

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not. You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth.

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression.

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet.

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late.

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together.

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about.

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used.

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble.

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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nezuscribe · 1 year ago

Text

(nsfw, 18+)

there are some things that toji isn't necessarily proud of.

he's not a fan of the fact that he comes home grimy every night, fingernails caked with blood. he doesn't like that the stupid scar on his lip hasn't faded and he hates the fact that he didn't marry you first.

"f-fuck, toji...!" you squealed out, your face being smushed into the pillow as he pounded into you from behind, his grips on your hips bruising.

"yeah? you good?" he cheekily asked, a smug smirk on his face as you blabbered some nonsense out, insistently shaking your head yes.

it was just so unfair that he met you, his pretty neighbor, after he moved in. his relationship with his wife was already straining, he could feel her cold demeanor towards him every time they went to sleep.

but you were so nice to him and his kid, a warm smile on your face as you waved over to them. megumi liked you too, hell, toji was sure he liked you more than his own mother, and to top it all off, once you started babysitting megumi he couldn't control his emotions.

it took one night of too much alcohol and lust filled eyes and now, toji can no longer go two days without fucking your sweet pussy.

"let go, come on," he groaned, his scar twitching as he pressed slopping kisses down your spine, "tell me how much y'love me," his balls slapped lewdly against your pussy and he loved to sounds it made.

"love you, mpf! l-love you s'much toji," you whined out, fingers gripping his bedsheets as his thumb swiped down at your clit, your eyes rolling backwards at his motion. you could never last too long with toji, and he knew just what to do to make you unravel.

"good girl, fuck, you're so tight, so good f'me," he praised, his head dragging against your tight walls as he felt the two of you getting closer, "'gonna file the papers tomorrow, then yer finally and officially 'gonna be mine. like that? hm baby?"

you nodded again, words escaping your mouth as toji picked up his pace, his hips slamming into yours as you felt yourself about the let go, your release just moments away from you.

"'m'yours toji, fuuuuck!" you promised, and that's all it took his him to sputter, filling you up as your walls clenched around him, your orgasm so quick, so sinful, so good that you almost passed out.

you would have if not for him leaning down to your ear, that shit-eating grin still on his face as he kissed your cheek,

"up fer another round? 'wanna risk it?"

and you nodded again, knowing that you could never say no to toji.

#toji x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji drabble #toji x you #toji x you smut #jjk drabble #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw: cheating #jujutsu kaisen

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beejunos · 10 months ago

Text

SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin.

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid.

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh.

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel.

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment.

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath.

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it.

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption.

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat.

Alastor, the infamous radio demon.

He had ... not been what you had expected.

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours.

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks.

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear.

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it.

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice.

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again.

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room.

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!"

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on.

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you.

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent.

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex.

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak.

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard.

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear.

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure.

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer.

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?"

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes.

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you.

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched."

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red.

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago.

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?"

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be.

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too.

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating.

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head.

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear."

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat.

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible.

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?"

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before.

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely.

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome."

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer.

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with.

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened?

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you.

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up.

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit.

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet.

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds.

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back.

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do."

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door.

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved.

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny.

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47.

Ugh, this is taking forever!

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came.

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out.

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them.

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience.

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart.

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear."

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling.

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any.

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me."

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire.

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?"

"Yes."

"Yes, and?"

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing.

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?"

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture.

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now.

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants.

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger.

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down.

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions.

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure.

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl.

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh.

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?"

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger.

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you.

"What did I say about not touching me?"

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head.

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it.

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you.

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert.

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from.

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for.

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure.

Closer, closer, and then you fell.

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead.

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love."

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut

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inkskinned · 1 year ago

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nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

#i personally think having any of these desires is totally fine. it's when u use them to hurt others #it's why having ambitions =/= greed: as long as ur ambition isn't ''i hope i can take someone elses good things''#writeblr #warm up #seven deadly sins

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bushwskq · 4 months ago

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FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW X WITCH!READER

Part 1 🕯️

cw: smut, 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back! I just want to say that I'm really happy for the likes of part 1 💜 I hope you like this one too

There you were again, smoking a cigarette outside the church. Your leather boot making noise with every stomp you made on the anxious sidewalk. It was Wednesday, as Father Charlie had said, the day of confession in which the faithful came to the house of God to confess their sins and their souls were absorbed from the fires of hell until the next week like a vicious cycle. You reached out your hand grabbing the coffee cup on the floor, making sure no one had witnessed the little display of magic. Waiting a few more minutes you entered the church as soon as the last person left. Unlike your first visit, the place was now dark with few candles lighting the space. His eyes wandered around the place before finding the confessional, this time the pentagram on his chest was completely exposed.

“I see you took my offer seriously,” Father Charlie Mayhew began in surprise as you sat in the confessional. When he made the proposal, he didn't believe you would actually accept it. You noticed him shift position on the other side by the creaking of wood. “I’m all ears, start whenever you want.” Again you felt his cologne, oh my god, how it gave you a good and restless feeling at the same time.

An exciting agony His eyes caught your movements through the small holes, imagining the contours of your body, the way your curves would press against him. His grip on the wooden cross in front of him tightened, the need to touch it overwhelming.

“You really believe in God. Father?” You asked suddenly, looking at the holes in the confessional that gave access to it. Charlie paused for a moment, composing himself before speaking “I have many reasons to believe in him, he saved me and he can save you if you let him.” he said in a low voice. You smiled awkwardly, without any effort a flame lit up on your index finger. It didn’t burn you, just a tingling on the tip that you were already used to. “There are things… things that many are not yet ready to understand, Father.” seconds later the flame disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Father Charlie's heart raced as he watched the flame dance on his fingertip, a flicker of light in the dark confines of the confessional. Mixture of fascination and fear coursing through his veins as the fabric of his robe strained against his arousal, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within. His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself drawn to you in a way that both thrilled and disturbed him. As a man of God, he knows he should denounce her abilities, expel her from this sacred place. And yet... a part of him longs to understand, to unravel the mystery you present.

You can't react when he opens the confessional door abruptly grabbing your body with ease, his beautiful eyes darting to the pentagram like the first time. You don't react when he pulls you hard, breaking it, leaving only the cross on your chest.

"What...what are you?" he sighs, his voice rough with barely contained lust. “Some demon sent to disturb the peace, surely.” But even as he speaks, his hands are roaming your body, gliding over your curves with a hunger that belies his words.

The heat of his touch burns your skin, even through the fabric of your clothes. He leans in, his lips colliding against yours in a bruising kiss. It's a dance of passion and danger, the forbidden fruit he knows he should resist but can't. A witch and a priest, an impossible combination, and yet…

You can see the lust burning inside Charlie. It's intoxicating because you still feel his grip. His features are like a fallen angel, he was in the wrong vocation. His hands slid lower, pushing up the skirt of your black dress. The smell of your arousal mixes with his, an intoxicating scent that clouds his mind and weakens his resolve. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me,” he says harshly, “are you real, or am I losing my mind?”

He knows he should stop, he should push you away and run away from this temptation. But he can't. He is lost, drowning in a sea of forbidden desire, and he is powerless to resist. “I can be real for you tonight.” You say boldly, you had nothing to lose. It would be another night of fun.

You see the realization flash through Charlie's eyes. Slowly, he releases you, allowing you to take a step back. He looks at you, desire and fear tangled in his gaze. His hand shakes as he runs it through his hair, an attempt to regain some semblance of control. And then, as if he had made a decision, his resolve breaks. He walks towards you, closing the gap between you, and whispers huskily, “Show me… let me know the truth of your words.” The rational part of his mind screams at him to stop, to push you away and escape this temptation.

But his primal, carnal side longs to surrender, to lose himself in the forbidden pleasures you offer. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But all he sees is a mirror of his own desire, a reflection of the hunger that burns within him. Father Charlie's heart races as he unbuttons the buttons on her dress, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He pulls the fabric to the side, exposing the smooth, supple skin of your collarbone. Leaning down, he presses a searing kiss to your flesh, claiming you as his. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with desperate hunger. He can’t get enough of you, the feel of your skin under his fingertips, the taste of your flesh on his tongue.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighs, his voice rough with desire. "More than any mortal man could deserve." He reaches out, his hand gliding over the curve of your breast, tracing the delicate curve of your waist. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine and lighting a fire deep within your core. Father Charlie's own clothes appear tight, a reminder of the vows he made and the life he chose. With a growl of frustration, he hurriedly begins to remove the fabric, exposing his chest to your gaze.

With that, he pulls you close once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is both desperate and possessive. He pours all his longing, all his desire, into that one moment, and you can feel the intensity of his passion coursing through your veins. A low growl resonates in his chest, and he grabs you roughly, his hands gripping your hips with blunt force.

He pushes you against the wall, pinning you in place with his body. His mouth crashes against yours, the kiss is fierce and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongue that leaves you both breathless. His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

He tears at his underwear, tearing it off with wild desperation, not caring about the damage he causes. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, strong and insistent, a physical manifestation of his desire. He grinds against you, the friction delicious and maddening at the same time.

With a final growl, Father Charlie lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he positions himself at your entrance. He stops for a moment, his eyes boring into yours, a silent question in their depths.

And then, with one thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that borders on the sublime.

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with a ferocity that steals your breath. Each thrust is deeper, stronger than the last, bringing you both closer to the edge of oblivion. Father Charlie buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he loses himself in the rhythm of your copulation. He is a man possessed, driven by a hunger that cannot be satisfied, a need that consumes him completely.

Father Charlie's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts become more erratic as the line between pleasure and pain blurs. You can feel the desperation in every move, the need to claim and be claimed in return. The sound of their copulation fills the air, skin against skin, the wooden structure rhythmically echoing the charged atmosphere. Father Charlie's breathing is ragged, his body shaking as he approaches the edge of release.

He grinds against you, his cock pulsing inside you, the heat of his release building. With a final, guttural groan, he spills himself inside you, the profanity of his actions washing over him like a tidal wave.

As his orgasm subsides, he collapses against you, his body slick with sweat. The air around you is thick with the scent of sex, a testament to the forbidden pleasure you've just shared.

For a moment, there is only the sound of their heavy, labored breaths as they cling to each other in the aftermath. Father Charlie's fingers run gently through his hair, a stark contrast to the ferocity of moments before. Slowly, he pulls away from you, his gaze never leaving yours. In that moment, there is a newfound vulnerability in his eyes, an admission that this transgression has changed him forever.

@mlt2000

#charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew smut #father charlie mayhew x reader #x reader #fem!reader #grotesquerie #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut #witches #kinktober 2024

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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.

“f-fuck.”

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”

shit. “yes… it does.”

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.

he feels like hell on earth.

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ

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bloodstainedsapphic · 5 months ago

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thigh riding | ellie williams minors dni finally, some spooktober smut warnings: what the title says, soft dom! but not really ellie, degradation/praise

while going through the motions of the day, you were unexpectedly consumed by an insatiable need—in the form of an unmistakable heat pooling to your core. perhaps it was caused by some monthly hormonal cycle bullshit, or maybe your girlfriend ellie was just hot as fuck, and your mind became clouded with lust as a consequence of your thoughts lingering on what you two could get up to later.

ellie, on the other hand, pulled through a grueling day of patrol that had drained nearly all of her energy. hours later, she could hardly stay upright as she stumbled through the door to her place, eyes heavy with fatigue. you were already there, waiting- using every ounce of willpower to resist pouncing with all of your pent-up affection as soon as you laid eyes on her. insisting on helping her remove her jacket, you briefly check in about your days, slipping in few well-placed touches and revealing a seductive look that tells ellie exactly what you need. you come to a swift compromise- involving receiving the attention you craved and ellie, even in her wearied state, being treated to a delicious view of you.

so here you were, your breath trembling with anticipation as you lowered yourself onto ellie's bare thigh, nestling yourself comfortably before beginning to slowly rock your hips back and forth, seeking out the friction to get the release you wanted- no, desperately needed.

the sensation was immediate. the contact of your aching cunt and her toned thigh--separated by your slick panties, an oversight in your rush to get to this point--was already sending you to bliss.

"so worked up for me already, aren't you, baby? gotta fuck yourself against my thigh?" ellie murmured, her sleepy voice tinged with a growing thirst as her lidded green eyes raked over your form. she swallowed thickly, admiring your breasts that bounced with each shift as well your irresistibly soft midriff. the adorable facial expressions you couldn't hold back while chasing your climax-- just from rutting against her thigh-- made ellie's heat pulsate with desire, a favor you would gladly return later.

she takes her time exploring your every curve, her hands finally finding purchase on your hips, digging her fingers into the delicate skin to encourage your movements. whenever your pace slowed or became too erratic for her liking, ellie's grip would tense, guiding you more forcefully to steady the rhythm and keep you barreling toward the edge. your hands clambered for a landing spot to cling onto-- against ellie's stomach, sometimes running up her middle and over her breasts which were cruelly confined in an off-white sports bra. damn your impatience.

ellie switched things up, experimentally rolling her thigh upwards against your heat, causing sinful moans to slip past your lips. every press sent a flurry of sparks threatening to become shockwaves throughout your body. it was tortuous and euphoric-- all at once.

"pretty girl, you can do that better than that," ellie urged, her voice low, dripping with arousal. her encouragement turned into thinly veiled taunts as she landed a stinging smack to your thigh, eliciting a gasp and jolting you up to speed.

"you like that? you're going to cum on my thigh, yeah?" she asked with a mocking edge, watching you struggle to form a coherent response while so close to the brink.

"mm, fuck…" you hiss through your teeth. ellie holds your hips, pace unrelenting as you find the perfect position for your sensitive clit to rub against her until you burst.

"go on, cum for me, make a mess on my thigh," ellie quietly commanded, her words are your unraveling as she pushes your body toward its limit. your eyes clamp shut, a sharp cry tumbling from your mouth as an intense orgasm ripples throughout your body. the pressure that had been gradually building for hours swelled out in waves, ellie still pulling at your sides, gently squeezing them to draw out every whimper, shudder, quiver.

eventually coming down from your high, you could barely keep yourself propped up. ellie's arms encircled your waist, pulling you down until you lay slumped completely on top of her, met by her soft, approving hum. she presses a series of tender kisses to your hair, hoping now to lull you both into a much-needed sleep.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou2 #finalgirllx's spooktober #kinktober

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shesjustanothergeek · 8 months ago

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The Gods We Can Touch

Chapter One: My Dream

|Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Let's celebrate the first episode of season 2 with a new story! I'm publishing this before the show airs, so let's say a tentative prayer in case the first episode is Blood & Cheese. Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: sexism (it's a patriarchal feudalistic society), brief descriptions of childbirth and death related to it, Alicent being delulu.

“My dreams, my dreams! What has become of their sweetness? What indeed has become of my youth?” - Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin

If a daughter were to be born seconds before a brother, it did not matter. He was the heir. If she was born decades before a boy, it did not matter. He was the heir. Or so the realm believed until the reign of Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Son of Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen, Grandson to the Old King Jaehaerys.

When Viserys Targaryen's wife, Aemma of House Arryn, had failed pregnancy after failed pregnancy, a girl was a welcomed result. It proved not only to Aemma herself and her King Husband that she could produce a child but to the realm that there was hope for a son, a much-preferred result.

Queen Consort Aemma Arryn died in pursuit of something she could not control, screaming, wailing, begging her husband not to cut her open, but he did not listen, for the birth of a son was more important than the life of a woman.

The infant Baelon Targaryen died a day later, leaving King Viserys a widower with only a daughter with the same fair skin and hair as the woman he murdered. The woman who laid slain on her birthing bed, bright blue irises now glassy, blood pooling from her womb, was given a Targaryen funeral along with the Heir for a Day, as her good brother called him, her last surviving child whispering, “dragon fire” through tears, with the encouragement of the same man who lusted after her and the throne.

The result of a mother’s and son’s death gave way to grief and anger. Viserys, blinded by the insults levied against his dead child, broke centuries of tradition and named Westeros’ first female heir Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Daemon Targaryen was furious at the abuse of being cast aside for a girl of ten and four and took to Dragonstone, the rightful seat of the Iron Throne's successor, with his whore, Lady Misery, an enslaved Lysene sold into the sex trade that became the Prince's favorite mistress.

Daemon did not hate his niece. He loved his family far more than anyone believed, so he surrendered when the Realm's Delight flew on her dragon to confront her uncle.

Less than a year later, not nearly long enough to mourn the death of two people, Viserys Targaryen married Alicent of House Hightower, daughter of the Hand and dearest friend to his daughter. The King saw the union as an act of fortunate duty and desire instead of love. On that much, the young Alicent Hightower could agree. Perhaps, he thought, it was a way to ensure his daughter would always have her closest Lady around, but Viserys was a fool . He could not see past his blinding grief and selfish lust that he tore the two girls apart.

Rhaenyra Targaryen's mother was a girl her age, a girl she longed to have to accompany her on Syrax, explore the East, and eat cake, but that was never meant to be. The Gods provided as quickly as they took, and her lifelong confidant viewed her with such hate and distaste that Rhaenyra soon began to consider her the same.

“Stepdaughter,” Alicent called her at the Princess's wedding feast to Ser Laenor of House Velaryon. Her voice laced with enough venom, and her dress so green you would mistake her for a snake. This gave Rhaenyra a sickening feeling in her gut, which soon hardened into one of cool indifference.

And that was how they lived.

Silent and icy indifference as Queen Alicent walked through the Targaryen halls of the Red Keep in Hightower Green, birthing the King his first surviving sons and second daughter.

However, there was a moment of repreave in the Queen's and the Princess's glacial flippancy when her forgotten ally fell pregnant for the first time.

Alicent could not help herself from caring for her old friend during her first pregnancy. She quickly fell back into the role of her Lady, supplying Rhaenyra with food, oils, clothing, and occasionally companionship during the quarrelsome nine moons.

The Queen had almost found it within her heart to forgive Rhaenyra for her lies and false swearing beneath the Heart Tree all those years ago, and she did until the labors when she saw the brown tuft of hair atop a young babe's head.

At the time, Alicent did not have a moment to contemplate what that meant before her friend screamed, holding on so tightly to her hand that she thought it might break as the rest of the infant emerged. The babe's face was so purple and cord wrapped around their neck that Alicent nearly cried, fearing life had repeated itself. The nursemaids quickly cut the blue and pink veiny line that connected the child to its mother, turning the babe upside down and spanking it on the back until its cries rang out throughout Maegor’s Holdfast.

A girl.

There, screaming and curling their once lifeless fist, were you , the firstborn child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, only by a mere moment, finally breathing and wailing as they swaddled you in an embroidered black and red cloth, a boy soon following.

“What shall you name them, your highness?” the eldest midwife asked, nearly as out of air as Rhaenyra.

“We…” the princess breathed heavily, positioning herself in the birthing chair. “We had only thought of a boy with the help of Lord Corlys. Jacaerys,” she panted, her cheeks tinged pink, either from exertion or embarrassment from being so thoughtless. Alicent did not know.

The nurse holding Rhaenyra’s son passed him to her, all eyes lingering on that same flattened-down dark hair. “Shall we wait for the Prince, your highness?” another question, holding the unnamed girl.

“I think,” Rhaenyra groans, shifting her weight to account for the new one, “we shall be waiting for a while should my husband suddenly return from his travels.” She glanced at Alicent, watching her once closest friend pick at the skin of her nails. She grinned, a brilliant idea coming to mind as she ordered the maid to give her daughter to the Queen.

Alicent's doe eyes widened as she accepted. She peered down at the tiny bundle before her, still crying, purple face now a deep red and full of life. The Queen did not know what came over her as she leaned, bringing the child’s blotchy forehead to her lips, inhaling the unique scent only a newborn has. She noticed the muscles around where the babe's brows should be twitching, opening her eyes to reveal a mirror of Alicent’s own looking at her.

The Queen forgot for a moment that she was not her own and that she should be alarmed that the child's eyes bore no resemblance to their parents. Yet the Queen continued to smile down at the small fidgeting bundle in her grasp, her arms wiggling themselves out of their confines to clench and unclench. The cries now became softer but still there. Sounds that used to cause Alicent great distress now soothe her uneasy soul like a salve to a wound.

“What shall we call her, my Queen?” Rhaenyra questioned, a crooked smile on her face as Alicent broke from her revere. Her plush lips parted in surprise, looking as if a deer caught grazing alone in a field.

The Queen appeared bewildered, unprepared for such a monumental task; all faces turned to her. “I… I am unsure, Princess. I did not come prepared for such an honor.”

Rhaenyra kept the same lopsided grin on her lips, showing the tips of her white teeth. “Tis all mine. It's an honor to have the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms name my first born daughter.”

“An honor I accept gladly,” Alicent rushed, worried that her refusal would shatter their peace.

She paused, pursing her lips in thought. Despite having three and another on the way, she had never named a child. Helaena was the closest she had ever gotten, a familiar name within the Reach but made to fit the traditional Targaryen spelling. Alicent would have something to herself, one tiny sliver of something that belonged to her, and she was unsure what to do with it. She was confident that Rhaenyra would be content with any name she chose, but she wanted it to be unique, to mean something more than just a word.

Alicent thought of her mother then—her darling mother, whom she barely had a chance to spend life with before a fever took her. A mother that her father said she looked like an extension of, and suddenly, only one name felt right.

The Queen was constantly conflicted about every choice she made, every move. From the food she ate to the clothes she wore, Alicent always worried herself over it, wondering if she had made the correct decision, but in this, she was sure. No man, woman, or God could sway her from this choice. It was right. The Queen could feel it in the marrow of her bones that it was so.

“Aelora.”

Aelora, my light.

The King came bursting moments later, a servant dressed in a crimson gown, white apron, and cap standing anxiously beside him. He immediately went straight into the room, brushing past his wife in favor of his daughter. Alicent felt a sour taste in her mouth at the notion, pulling the quiet lump tighter to her chest.

“A boy and a girl!” Viserys excitedly hollered, Rhaenyra passing Jacaerys to him. Anxiousness settled over the birthing chamber, the midwives and maids observing with worrisome eyes at the head of brown hair. “ Ah! And I see they have inherited my favorite cousin's hair.”

He held the newborn with a reverence Alicent had never seen with her own, and she stepped back into the shadows of the onlookers. She peered down, catching the babe's eyes shut and face slack, still with the fresh scent of birth. She brought you to her forehead again as she took in this brief moment of joy, nose nuzzling the infant’s as she grunted at the intrusion.

“Aelora, the Gods’ Light. My shining light,” she whispered so softly against the babe's satin-smooth skin that it drifted into the air like dust, lost in the wind.

“Oh, and her eyes, too!” Viserys beamed, hoisting Jacaerys into the air as the wetnurses squealed in terror. “She will make a fine queen one day, and should the Gods allow it, you, a king.” Rhaenyra laughed at her father's antics, already planning the children’s marriage. She was too high on the feeling of birthing not one but two healthy babes, a boy and a girl, no less to care. Alicent's amber eyes flicked to her husband and then to your plump face, a frown pulling her lips.

Aegon had come quickly and without fuss. Though Alicent was merely a girl of ten and six when it happened, the moments leading up to it frightened her thoroughly. She worried her nails down to the quick, the pink fleshy beds exposed and bleeding whenever she would use too harsh of a grip.

She knew of what happened to Aemma Arryn, that the babe was stuck and couldn't turn to leave the womb, at least to the Maester’s belief. He gave the King a choice, not the woman who was writhing in pain as her body contracted, to either let the process play out with the chance that the child and his wife could perish or have him slice her open from hip to hip, dig through her guts and blood to pry the child out. Aemma Arryn had no voice in the matter from what she heard from the midwives, as her husband allowed a man to pull Prince Baelon straight from her womb.

Alicent did not want to face the same fate and prayed to the Mother day after day, night after night, until her knees were yellow and blue, and even then, she continued her efforts. She was alone in all this, with no one to confide in. Her father had told her to do her duty when she expressed concern. He assured her the King would allow no such thing if she did everything correctly. He offered no comfort, and Alicent longed for her dearest Princess. Her prayers were answered when that fateful day came, and the labors lasted no more than an hour.

She birthed a healthy boy with blonde hair and purple eyes, but even then, Viserys did not act the way he was now with Rhaenyra's children. A means to end all the uncertainty of an heir, her father said in words of solace. She hadn't understood what he meant then. Rhaenyra was the heir, crowned Princess of Dragonstone, and Lords swore allegiance to her across the realm. To Alicent, there was no uncertainty until there was.

Until Otto Hightower planted the rot that festered and spread in her mind that the girl she grew up alongside, the girl she spent so many days and nights with, the girl that had said she would forget her duty and fly off across the world eating nothing but cake with her friend by her side, would murder Alicent's children so they could not depose her reign.

She did not believe Rhaenyra was capable of cruelty, but then again, she had once considered her incapable of lying to her and was proven wrong.

She began to fuss as if the infant in her embrace could sense the Queen's unrest. Her delicate little face scrunched up as Alicent bounced her softly, cooing soothingly. She smiled despite her unpleasantness within, unfazed by the sudden outburst, unlike when Helaena had her fits as a child. Her daughter would have to meet her niece and nephew, along with Aegon. Aemond was too young. She wouldn't be able to keep a close eye on him.

Though he was half the size of Aegon when he was born, he had grown twice as fierce. At barely three years old, his nursemaids had to ceaselessly follow the moonlight-haired boy less than a step away lest he jump down a flight of stairs just to see if he could. Once, when Alicent dismissed the servants from Aemond's chambers as he readied for bed, she turned her back on him for a singular blink, and he opened his balcony doors and climbed over the railing to get a better view of the night sky. Alicent remembered how he kicked and screamed as she yanked him from the ledge, saying words and phrases she never knew, even at the age she was now.

“My Queen,” the wetnurse called like she had repeated herself as Alicent looked at the girl. “The young Princess needs her first feeding.” The woman held out her arms for her to hand over the fussing bundle, a calm but concerned expression on her face.

Alicent refused, curling her limbs as the babe squirmed, her cries becoming ear-piercing screams. She knew the child needed to eat but could not force her body to release the girl. It was as if her very bones denied the movement that was not keeping the hungry infant close to her. The fleeting thought that Alicent could feed the girl herself crossed her mind, but she shook it away, realizing the ludacrisy of it. It was improper for a woman of nobility to nurse their child. That's what the maids were for, the Queen told herself.

The wetnurse peered at her curiously, walking a pace closer, but Alicent stepped back as if she attempted to harm her. “The King has not held her yet,” she protested, looking towards her King-Husband in an attempt to prolong her time.

“All is well, Alicent. What kind of King refuses to let their babe grandchild eat?” he jested, tilting his head to the side playfully and exposing a gaping smile. It made Alicent want to vomit.

When she doesn't move to listen, the Queen stared at her husband like her silence could serve as a rejection of his words. Viserys sighed as Rhaenyra watched with piqued interest, wordlessly handing Jacaerys to another maid.

“Alicent, give her the child.”

She hesitated again, her brown eyes flickering to Rhaenyra when she did not offer for Alicent to stay while the maids worked. Once again, she mused bitterly, watching the infant intently as she relented. I give my dream away to you. A dream that was never indeed mine.

The Queen bowed to the Princess, congratulating her on the success as she took her leave, hand splaying over the swollen stomach of her emerald green gown. It felt too tight, the once smooth fabric now itching at her skin, the fine hairs on her arms catching between the threads.

How stupid she was to believe in Rhaenyra’s kindness. She felt like a girl again, the same girl who stood beneath the Weirwood, listening to her friend swear on her mother’s memory that she had not lain with a man, only to find out there was moontea delivered to her chambers.

A sudden kick was sent to the Queen's abdomen, halting her brisk pace as she doubled over within the pale redstone hall. Ser Criston Cole arrived moments later, helping her rise to her feet. She soothed the afflicted area with her palm, no doubt the cause being her own making. Despite the growing life inside of her, the Queen has now done it four times. Alicent believed the moment she laid her wide amber eyes on yours was the closest she had ever felt to being whole with someone in her life. It’s as if the child's very being was now a part of her, and every moment she was away, it felt as if she was missing a piece of her soul.

Rhaenyra flaunts and does as she pleases, lies, and tricks all she pleases. It made Alicent furious with a rage she had not felt for nearly a decade. Aelora will not become like her mother. The Green Queen will not allow it, even if she has to twist and shape the clay of Aelora's mind into something of her own. Aelora is her dream. She is the Gods' shining light, and Alicent will be damned if she allows Rhaenyra to blacken her glow.

Septon Eustace's Recount of Princess Aelora I Targaryen's Early Life

The young Velaryon princess, later taking her mother’s namesake, grew into a spritely and mischievous child, playing jests on her Septa and Prince Aemond with the aid of her brothers and the eldest of the Queen’s children, Prince Aegon. She did not develop into a traditional Targaryen beauty with blonde hair and violet eyes; instead, she had a golden chestnut crown with eyes to match. Many said she resembled Queen Alicent, though if anyone made the error of voicing it, they faced Princess Rhaenyra’s wrath.

Though her features were plain by Targaryen standards, the realm rejoiced in her beauty. Lords and ladies commissioned portraits of her countenance throughout the kingdom, proudly displaying a halcyon halo of red rubies adorning the top of her divine facade. The common folk coined the name “The Gods' Light” for the sweet girl. A glimpse of her was as close as one would get to the Maiden, and they cherished it whenever Princess Rhaenyra's faction made rare journeys to the Grand Sept.

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I'm excited to write for my favorite war criminal, Visenya Incarnate, Aemond Targaryen. I'm just super happy to write Aemond smut! I'm also taking a different approach to this story because it will solely be based on the show (to the best of my ability), not the book, and will be released with the same progression. It will have accounts of the reader's life through the eyes of the Maester's. Of course, there will be some cannon divergence and whatnot, considering we're introducing a new character into the fray. This fic will also be a lot darker than what I've written in the past, including content such as childhood sexual assault and the after-effects of it, self-harm, depression, suicide, and unhealthy sibling dynamics/relationships.

This story is told from the second person's perspective. The reader only has a name for the sake of a title and the description of Strong features.

Y'all have no idea how fulfilling writing has been for me. It's given me purpose when I've felt like I had none. It's helped my mental health by giving me an outlet for self-expression and a good source of distraction from all the worries I have in life. I wish I could get paid for this!

I hope y'all will enjoy the story as much as I will writing it, and of course, thank you so much for taking the time to read this. You genuinely have no idea how much your support means to me, but I will continue to express it in the best way I know how. ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Ps. Alicent's mom's name is unknown in the show and the book, so I'm creating a name that combines my original idea with traditional Targaryen spelling.

Pronunciation: Uh-lore-uh, Ae-lore-uh

Origin: Latin

Meaning: dream, dreamer, shining light.

Biblical Meaning: God is light, God's light.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf

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