#so you can try to seduce him it’s ok! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

karikarasuno · 23 days ago

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part nine | part ten | part eleven

law is currently having a hard time. literally. he's straining against his jeans and he's conflicted by the feeling. all you're doing is snooping around his childhood bedroom. excitedly and unabashedly curious. one of his favorite versions of you. right beside bratty and teasing.

when he brought up attending a bbq at his parents this weekend you were all for it. you even bought a dress. a very pretty one. one that's hem is inching up the back of your thighs as you bend over to inspect a lego pirate ship he made when he was twelve.

"i don't think i've ever met both a delinquent and a nerd," you say, spinning on the balls of your feet to face him.

"what? i can't have hobbies," he shrugs from his seat on the edge of his bed. he doesn't remember it being so small.

"if you call drug dealing and building lego sets normal preteen hobbies, then yes, of course you can," you say with a sneaky little smile. you turn away from him again and your dress twirls around your thighs. the fabric brushes the back of them in a way that his fingertips usually do. so yeah, law is having a rather hard time.

"but i think this is my favorite." your palms are pressed against his dresser as you look over a blossoming bonsai tree he built for his mom for mother's day when he was fifteen.

"those flowers actually come off and you can replace it with the leaves," he explains. you lean over further. one more inch and he'll be able to see your ass. which he wouldn't necessarily mind except you're at his parents' house.

you cross your ankles, the heels you chose to wear making your legs seem longer as you rub one foot down your calf. well now he thinks you're trying to seduce him. hell, you'll just have to be quiet then.

"so what else-" he doesn't give you the chance to finish. he slides his hands onto your hips and squeezes.

"what are you doing?" you whisper, clearly he caught you by surprise.

"what do you think?" he bends forward sticking his nose in your hair, just behind your ear. law inhales the scent of your perfume. which is a bad idea if he had any hopes of restraining himself. your sigh makes it even more difficult to stop.

"law," you whine and his grip tightens. "your parents are downstairs."

"yeah outside. on the patio," he clarifies, starting to kiss your neck. you push your ass against him to try and wiggle away, but he uses his hips to pin you in place. "and you can be quiet, can't you?"

his hand slips between your thighs. gently at first. with enough tentativeness to make sure you don't want him to stop. and you don't because your legs inch apart, giving his fingers more room to explore. he smiles into your shoulder. that was easier than he thought it would be.

"ok," you nod and he feels you raise your head. when he meets your gaze through the mirror above his dresser he can tell how riled up you already are. your cheeks are clearly burning. your eyes are half-lidded. and you can only seem to breathe through your mouth. "but we have to be quick."

"i can do that." his fingers press against you over your panties and your thighs rub together from that brief touch. there's really no time to waste and you prove that when your fingers wrap around his wrist and push him further between your legs.

he's not surprised to find that you're wet already. he's learned which buttons of yours are easiest to push. which ones to turn on. and you make that exceptionally simple when you take his fingers and use them to slip your underwear to the side.

"i didn't expect you to be so eager," he says, a breathy chuckle following his words as he slips two fingers between your folds. there's no doubt in his mind now that you were definitely trying to seduce him in some way. not when you're so ready for him. he wonders what he did to rile you up this much. wonders how he can do it again for next time.

your head falls back onto his shoulder as you meet his eyes through the mirror. you're struggling to come up with something to say when he slides those two fingers inside of you and curves them. just the way you like. but he can see how your mind is working. your lips part, "you-"

he cuts you off when he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back inside. a little more forceful this time. with enough strength that has you dripping into his palm. you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on it to keep the moan from escaping your chest. he stares as your lip blossoms red. refraining from grinding his erection into your ass when you squeeze around his fingers.

"we shouldn't," you gasp, your eyes blinking closed when he rubs a tight circle against your g-spot.

"but you're so close," he counters. his lips find the shell of your ear and as his exhale breezes down your skin you shudder in his arms.

"that's the problem," you say through rough vocal cords. "you're making it hard to be quiet."

he removes his fingers and you sigh as your knees buckle slightly and you sag onto his dresser. but he doesn't give you much time to relax. he undoes his jeans, shoving them down enough to free himself. he gathers your dress and shoves it out of the way. he's not even really thinking straight anymore. he's leaking, red, and his dick is damn near painful from how hard he is.

maybe later, after he comes, he'll revisit why exactly he's so turned on right now. but you're whimpering when he slips between your thighs. sighing when his head nudges your entrance.

law's hand rises to cup your throat. he drags it over your chin until his palm is covering your mouth. you squirm the entire time. your own hands balling into fists on the surface of the dresser.

"is this better?" he whispers. but obviously you can't reply. you don't really need to say anything, anyway. your hips push against him and it forces him inside. his head drops and he bites your shoulder. a whine squeaks up your throat but is muffled by his hand. he needs to make this fast. not that that'll be an issue for him. he just needs to make sure you get off first.

his fingers are on your clit as soon as he's flush against you. he's methodical with the way he circles your clit, gathering as much of your slick as he can to make it easier.

your nails scrape at wood and you start meeting his thrusts with small movements of your own. his dresser thumps against the wall lightly. the mirror jostles in place as he fucks you into the edge of the furniture. he can't take his eyes off of you. it's impossible. your eyes water and your mascara smudges across your water line.

small, short noises escape your mouth between the gaps in his fingers. and his gut twists and tightens as you pulse erratically around him. sweat drips down the curve of his spine. inadvertently, his grip on your face tightens. a groan vibrates from your chest and into his palm. his thrusts harshen and something drops low and molten in his stomach.

it's sudden. you clamp around him violently and your back bows away from him. your hand slips across the surface of the dresser and accidentally knocks over the bonsai tree. and in some strange stroke of luck and with reflexes he forgets he possesses he catches the set before it can fall off the dresser and break apart against the hardwood floor. he barely manages to place it back down before his muscles tighten and he pulls out. your thighs squeeze around his cock when he no longer fills you. and he's coming all over the plush, moist skin.

he tries to swallow down the grunt that threatens to spill from his lips, but he's not sure if he can really contain it as his head grows fuzzy and all he can think about is the mess he just made. the mess you helped him make.

you grab his wrist and push his hand away from your mouth. the heaviest exhale falls from your lips as you both try to regain composure.

"i can't believe we just did that," you chuckle and shake your head. your thighs tremble slightly when you shift on your heels and he has to plant his hands on your hips to keep you from toppling over.

"that was your doing." he flinches when he pulls his sensitive cock from between your legs. the cool air that meets his skin makes him hiss.

"you are not blaming me for this," you say, glaring at him through the mirror. "you pounced."

"i don't pounce," law argues, tucking himself gingerly into his pants.

"well there's a first time for everything," you respond, cringing when your legs smear together when you attempt to move your panties back into place.

"let me grab you something to clean up." he smiles to himself at the sight. some weird sort of satisfaction festers in his chest. like a reclamation.

"that would be nice."

****

after he successfully cleans you up, you and law head back downstairs. you’re giddy. there’s a spring in your step. and he can’t help but notice the way your eyes continue glancing his way. with something knowing in them. something roguish. almost makes him wanna take you back upstairs.

“hi!” you say cheerily as you stroll into the kitchen. his sister is standing by the island with a tray of veggies in front of her. it takes her a second to meet your eyes. and then it takes her another to greet you in return.

“hey,” lami says, and she shuffles a little in place before averting her gaze back to the tray in front of her.

“come try this,” his mom says to you, sticking her head inside to grab your attention. you spin on your heels to face her. excitement again rushes through you. there’s something just so endearing about it. he really is in such a mood and he needs to calm down. he just had his way with you not even twenty minutes ago and he’s already starting up again. surely something is wrong with him today.

“i’ll meet you outside,” you grin up at him, tilting your head up and pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before you skip over to where his parents are waiting for you outside. he watches you go. that might just be his favorite dress now. because every time he registers you in it, he thinks of how good you were for him pressed against that dresser. his mind wanders to whatever positions he can sneak you into when something small and hard bounces off his temple.

"ow," he emphasizes, glaring at lami when he looks down at his feet to see a baby carrot rolling away.

"you're gross," she says, lips frowning in disgust.

"what did i do?" he's offended.

"you know, dad almost went up there to get you," she starts, placing her hand on her hip as her frown deepens.

"oh," law nods, biting down on his tongue to keep his laugh at bay. it's not funny.

"yeah, so you're welcome." she grips the tray and yanks it off the counter, but not before grabbing a celery stick and launching it at him. "gross."

"stop wasting food," he chastises, bending down to pick up the celery rolling away from his shoe.

"and you don't have sex with your freakin' girlfriend within earshot of your entire family," she scolds him, stomping away from him loudly.

he chuckles. he can't even bring himself to feel bad. "it wasn't technically within earshot," he mutters.

she whips around when she has one foot out the door, "gross!"

part twelve

#law likes being bad but only sometimes #this is one of those times #neighbor!law au #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #shortnspicy🌶️

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yanoverload · 2 months ago

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𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖

Th...The finest hu.....nhooman... in all of... in all of creat...creation...

As a literature girlie I had to do it ok.

….ℌ𝔲𝔤𝔬…? ??? 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔰? 𝔡𝔞𝔶𝔰? 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰? 𝔬𝔩𝔡 206 𝔠𝔪 (𝔬𝔯 6’7 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔱)

🥩 Being a butcher in Victorian times wasn't easy.

🥩 If you didn't hunt yourself, you would have to pay someone to do so.

🥩 Also showers don't exist, so any stains? Good luck!

🥩 How important it was though, that such people like you, knew how to store and cut the best pieces to display.

🥩 Business wasn't doing stellar, however.

🥩 Gang members started to raid the shops and demand tribute, "keeping the roads safe of robbers" they said.

🥩 More like a code to "give me money or I'll destroy your store."

🥩 No luck with cops either, they were always bribed to keep their mouths shut.

🥩 The common villagers started having money problems, those with lower income stopped buying at your butchery.

🥩 Those slobs were going to come try and snag more money this end of the month and you didn't have the money for it.

🥩 Even though you didn't pray, someone high up must have heard yout woes.

🥩 Apparently the duke that took care of the state you lived was going to do a ball, and balls need food.

🥩 The dukedom asked for your best cuts.

🥩 Not only that, but one day as you were rushing to pick said pieces for the party, a noble appeared in the shop.

🥩 You don't remember his name very well, but have seen high end academies praising his intellect.

🥩 Count Nornstein? No... Something with a F maybe. You are not deep into politics.

🥩 What you saw in your shop was instead a very frazzled, sleep deprived man that probably hasn't seen the sun in weeks.

🥩 Of course, you treated him with the utmost respect, no need to get in trouble with the bobbies.

🥩 "I need some meat, and a pig's heart" he stated "the freshest you can give me. Name whatever price, it won't matter, I'll pay it."

🥩 More money quickly? Lady luck has blessed you. You rushed to give him what he wanted and he left.

🥩 Next day was when chaos began. It was a Thursday night, you were getting ready to separate the pieces the duke servant's would pick up in the morning

🥩 When you discover the inventory missing.

🥩 No no.... They weren't missing, you accidentally gave them to the noble, the count! Yes you remember now, this is a nightmare!

🥩 You don't want to imagine what could happen if you fail the duke, or even more, failed to pay the "rent".

🥩 With no other option, you tread towards the count's mansion.

🥩 Maybe you could seduce a guard to let you in the kitchen? Tell them the meat was a spoiled one and you need to change it immediately?

🥩 Gasping for air you reach the mansion at the end of town, only to find it.... Empty. Maybe it's late and everyone is asleep already?

🥩 No time to think about the logistics or criminality, you find yourself soon jumping over the fence and peeking around the estate.

🥩 There is a trapdoor near the garden, almost at the forest that closes around the county.

🥩 Some smoke seems to emerge from it. It must be the kitchen! Or the storage room!

🥩 Surprisingly, it has no locks.

🥩 Opening it, you find not a kitchen, nor a storage, but a study, how annoying.

🥩 A sound emerges from the darkness, a silhouette soon being shadowed by loads of books.

🥩 You see one sole amber eye, watching you.

🥩 And you run.

🥩 Shaky legs barely got you inside the foliage of the forest and you let out a sound that seemed like a cough, but could reminisce a sob.

🥩 "I can't hunt. How am I supposed to get quality deer meat in a few hours?"

🥩 Then a rustle. Some cracks. You see a deer, with it's beady eyes looking at your soul.

🥩 A hand grasps it at it’s neck, a wail leaves it for a millisecond, before...

CRACK!

🥩 It's neck is broken.

🥩 That same amber eye appears from the dark, a huge man holding the deer as if it was a small rabbit.

🥩 Time to accept death, you wonder briefly, before he.... Offers it to you?

🥩 ".....?" The man... Creature? Tilts his head to the side, and shakes the corpse of the poor deer towards you as if it's an obvious gesture.

🥩 Not wanting to anger him, you try to hoist the deer on your shoulders. It's heavy as hell.

🥩 You look at the man again. His hands are bigger than your head.

🥩 He blinks. Then gives what seems like a really awkward smile.

🥩 "(⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)♡."

🥩 Who is this, does he think you are someone he knows?

🥩 What has your life come to?

#samhain talks #yandere oc #sub yandere #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere boyfriend #yandere intro #oc intro #yandere male #yandere creature #yandere art

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litsenn · 6 days ago

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Astarion craves connection

Lately, I've been thinking an awful lot about Astarion's desperate need to bond with others, especially in Act 1. Not just to seduce you and have sex with you, not just because he wants to secure his place in the party, but because he wants - and surely needs - to connect with people after two centuries of loneliness.

I’m talking about genuine interactions with other people, without the pressure of Cazador’s will, and with interlocutors who are neither targets nor threats. Of course, sometimes it’s difficult to say if he’s only pretending or if he’s genuinely trying to bond with you, but the more I think about it, the more I see it. Just think about all the discussions you can have with him in Act 1. He's certainly the companion with the most evening interactions, and I think there's a reason for it, especially when you know that he's been so lonely for so long. And it's also quite striking given the fact that one could expect him to be much more wary, maybe even paranoid somehow (like Shadowheart), but on the contrary, he shows a real capacity to open up, to share and to relate. It's awkward sometimes, but he's trying, even if he doesn't really understand it himself.

So I wanted to look back at some interactions in act 1 and to have a closer look at them (in no particular order). And it's going to be long. And chaotic.

Take the first night in camp for instance; he opens up about not feeling comfortable sleeping in the woods. Yes, he remains quite cryptic, he doesn't tell you how terrified he is (you can't expect him to at this point), but still... he doesn't know you and yet tells you he's not feeling comfortable here. You don't even have to ask him.

He could have kept it to himself, he could have preferred to let you believe that he's fine.

Nothing forces him to tell you about it. And yet he decides, against all odds, to let you know that he's not so fine. It's implicit and subtle, yes, but it's there. He tries to reach out to someone. He's not good at it, but that's a meaningful step.

And take the stargazing scene, which, to me, is when he really decides to go for his “nice little plan”. But whether this is it or not, he is lying down and stargazing in the middle of camp, and I can't stress this enough: in the middle of camp. He’s not sitting apart, seeking calm and solitude. He obviously expects someone (you) to come and talk to him.

Another meaningful example is his confession if you go to the Underdark before the bite night. In this case, he will decide to tell you he’s a vampire. Nothing forces him to tell you. He admits it simply because he wants to be honest about it – he feels that, at this point, you won’t let him down. He wants to connect with you, despite the risks of such a revelation.

And look at his face when you say it's alright: he’s so relieved! Because you don't drive a stake through his heart, yes, but also because he knows now that you trust him. That he is ok. That he can count on you.

As for the bite scene, it's a little more complicated: He's famished and he wants to know if he can bite a sentient being now that Cazador can't control him. Of course, doing it without your consent is a terrible move (I tend to believe his idea of personal boundaries is quite fucked up at this point, but that's a topic for a another post).

But if you accept him as a vampire, he trusts you to trust him enough to ask for a snack. Which, to me, is not only related to his burning hunger. This mutual trust, again, is something he desperately craves. Because it means your partnership is not superficial. And when you let him bite you, you prove him that trust can exist between the two of you (even if he's already planning to manipulate you, because people are complicated and full of contradictions).

Then you have the scene when he asks you who you'd like to bite. IMO, it's one of the most relevant scenes concerning his need for connection. Of course he’s flirting a little, he probably has already been scheming his nice little plan. But come on, if it was only about seducing you, I think he would have chosen another topic for the conversation… I mean, honestly, you don’t usually flirt by speaking about other people’s blood (except for all the Durges around, but he doesn’t really now about that yet).

No, beyond the flirting bits, this man is desperate to talk about his newfound freedom! for the first time in two hundred years, he can feed on all kind of beasts, whenever he wants! Of course he's excited and want to ramble about it! Imagine you've been feeding on rotten and unseasoned garbage for weeks and suddenly you can taste all kind of different spicy food, wouldn't you want to share that experience with someone? To ask them what kind of food they prefer? To imagine how this or that would taste?

Astarion is curious, he says it himself, and he wants to share his curiosity with you. Because he appreciates your company. Because he wants to share something with you, the open-minded companion who accepts him as he is. Astarion is not just teasing you, he's enjoying speaking to you "in the spirit of theoretical questions".

By the way, if you refuse to have this talk, he disapproves. Understandably!

You just turned down his first attempt to connect, to have a playful conversation, without any pressure. Of course he is disappointed! He thought you'd understand after you let him dine on you.

But if you play along, he approves whoever you pick, and gives a little comment of his own according to the companion you choose. And each answer reveals an attempt at bonding, it's always positive, even when he wouldn't have picked the same companion.

Even if you choose him.

And even if he’s already performing for his nice little plan, don't forget that it’s the first time he can really choose and decide to flirt and seduce. He feels somehow that he has to seduce you, because that's how he learned to survive, but nobody is actually forcing him to, for the first time in 200 years. So many reasons which make me believe that this discussion isn’t a performance, not completely at least, and that it's not just about his plan. It's about bonding and having a little fun.

By the way, during that scene, he calls you a friend. Is it genuine? Maybe not at this point, but I take it as wishful thinking. Whether he acknowledges it or not, he wants friends, or at least a friendly interaction.

He used the words 'friends' before, in an even more sarcastic way: The morning after the bite night, when you decide to keep him in the party after the revelation. Here, he’s not talking about you in particular, but about the whole group, and half of them are particularly wary of him, some of them are lowkey threatening him (and right before this, he told you he was scared anyone would turn against him - he still is). Without you, they would have at best kicked him out of camp.

This "friend" is ironical because none of them is seeing Astarion as a friend right now. So he deflates it with irony. Likewise, when he asks you to sleep with him the first time before the party, the “trusting friends” is ironical since you just called him out on his potential bullshit - and he knows it. It's a defence mechanism he uses each time someone sees him as a threat.

There's another "friend" in Act 1. During the "drunk scene".

This part sounds much more genuine to me. He's intoxicated, and he greets you with a "my friend" and a little laugh that makes him sound very giddy about it. If you listen to it, it doesn’t sound like he’s bitter, or manipulating.

Even the dev notes indicate that he must look “very happy".

At this point he really begins to trust you. It seems to make him happy to believe that you could really become friends. And being intoxicated helps him drop the mask a little, he's more himself: Playful, silly, displaying a sheer need to talk with someone. (look at this silly goose)

But being intoxicated also helps him open up about his past, about the torments. About his bitterness and his belief that power is the only way to be safe. About his biased vision of the world, of heroes, of power structures and responsibilities.

IMO he really needs someone he can talk to, someone who would listen and understand, if he's not sure how to do it, if he can do it, if you can be that person. He's "drunk", he needs to vent, and he vents to you.

This need to communicate, to connect with someone is even clearer when you play Durge, since he seems to relate a little more to your character. First things he tells you after you recruited him shows that he observes you and notices something is off, but it seems to be comforting to him.

As if he was thinking "thank goodness I'm not the only one who's a mess. Maybe they'll understand." And a few days letter, he comments on your state.

Not only he worries about you, but he also wants to understand what's happening to you. And if that's not a proof that this man wants to connect with others, I don't know what you need.

He has a hard time acknowledging it himself, with that little "do take care of yourself" which sounds a little awkward. And it makes sense, that must not be the kind of things he's used to say to anyone. Hence the silly little bow.

According to your answer, he can also appear to be very supportive, telling you to not fear who you are, accepting your quirks just (like you accepted his). Partners in crime. He's not alone in this.

And don't get me started on the fact that he doesn't refuse to tell you about his past. Despite his little remark on you insisting “about exhuming the past”, you don’t actually have to insist to make him talk about it. Comparing to Shadowheart, he willingly tells you about Cazador, about him being slave and very soon after you learned he's a vampire. You just have to ask, he opens up. He complains a little but he talks, for the first time in so long he's found someone he can talk to, someone who's willing to listen. And the more he trusts you, the more he tells you, without you having to insist.

I could go on for ages with examples: How he approves if you decide to tell Eithel about the tadpole in the grove. He doesn’t trust the old lady, but he clearly wants the two of you to have fun.

How he confesses that you are "his first". I don't think he's lying about it. After all, being completely unexperimented in term of biting people, it's not exactly the image of "the sexy vampire" that he usually tries to display.

Not to mention that he seems quite embarrassed about it. His body language gives him away. He's looking away, clearing his throat.

And why would he tell you if not to bond with you?

It's not about seducing you, it's about opening up a little and talk about his experience. He's already trying to be honest with you, because it's the first time in so long that he can allow himself to be honest. His face is particularly vulnerable when he admits it after he killed you during that first snack.

Should I also mention the fact that he never installs his tent in a lonely corner like Shadowheart or Lae'zel or even Wyll sometimes do? He's always, at least, close to another companion, if not in the middle of camp. Of course, it could be a question of feeling safer if the others are around, but I nonetheless think it's quite telling about his need to belong within this little group of weirdos. Likewise, a certain number of banters in Act 1 indicate that he does want to have innocent interactions with the group.

And finally, let's go back to the beginning, when you first meet him. As soon as he realises you're not an enemy, he drops his guard, relieved to have found another survivor. He obviously didn't expect you to invite him to join - it didn't even cross his mind because who would want him as part of a group? - but he quickly accepts to join "the herd". Not being alone anymore could be a good idea, right?

You could expect that after two hundred years of slavery and torment, one would be much more wary, keeping to oneself, keeping their distance with the others. But not Astarion, no. Because whether he admits it or not, he craves companionship. He craves attention - not for his looks, but for his individuality. He craves acceptance.

He joins you, first installs his tent in the centre of camp, he makes himself useful for the group, he wants to talk to you almost every night, he tries to bond with you in the most awkward ways and shares his enthusiasm for his newfound freedom. Yes, he wants to seduce you to make sure you won't let him down, but beyond that, there's a deep need for bonding, and to feel like he belongs somewhere. And if at first he probably thinks he only belongs in your bed as a good fuck, through all your interactions he begins to understand that he belongs beside you as a partner, as a friend and simply, as a person. He needs emotional support, he finds it in you, and even finds himself capable of giving emotional support. You trust him, and this trust is precious because it means you see him as a valuable person, not just a Swiss knife or a pretty thing. And it means he can trust you too. And it also means that, maybe, the world isn't as cruel as he was made to believe.

#spawn astarion #astarion #astarion headcanons #astarion ancunin #bg3 headcanon #headcanon astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 headcanons #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion analysis #bg3 analysis

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ladylunasblurbs · 1 year ago

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smut ahead mdni

warnings: slight non-con, aphrodisiac, mentions of pregnancy, slight breeding kink

yandere hades and Persephone (boz) x fem reader

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

imagine...

being pinned between Yandere Hades and Persephone, squirming and panting from the heat your body had felt. they sat there giving you teasing touches waiting for you to ask them for help. they had taken you months ago and you had pushed them away and refused to let them touch you at all, so with the help of a small aphrodisiac plant they planned to finally have their precious darling. now you lay between them as they tease you, Persephone running her hands along your hair and Hades placing kisses down your spine. "Come now my love, tell us what you want. we cannot help you if you don't tell us what's wrong" Persephone says with a seducing smile. "p-please.. it hurts" you whine, trying to squirm away to relieve yourself. "Oh? and where does it hurt my flower? here?" she asks running her hand over your chest, slowly moving lower. "or maybe here?" she smirks pinching one of your nipples, causing you to cry out. earning a chuckle from both of them. "Your cries are beautiful" Hades mumbles against your back. "Come on my darling let us hear more" Persephone smiles reaching down to play with your clit causing you to whine loudly, laying your head against her chest. "There we go love, it's ok we'll take care of you." she smiles before nodding to Hades who leaves open-mouthed kisses along your back as he slowly makes his way lower. Persephone continues to play with your nipples, teasing and pinching them making you squirm and whine. then you feel Hades move between your legs, kissing your thighs now. you try to close your legs but he holds them open gently rubbing them with his thumbs, slowly his kisses move closer to your pussy. you try to squirm away but are held in place by the two. "Don't try to run darling you said that you wanted our help" Persephone smiles kissing you. then you let out a high-pitched moan as Hades swiped his tongue over your clit, beginning to lick further. you squirm and whine in their arms, moaning quietly as hades slowly ate you out. persephone coos at you stroking your hair. "our whiny baby, is Hades making you feel good?" she smiles teasingly down at you, admiring your ruined expression with your half-lidded eyes and blush that covered your face. she reaches down and rests her hand on the back of Hade's head, pushing him further into your pussy, and he had no complaints about it. you squirm and moan, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes. "are you about to cum my darling?" Persephone asks in her sweet tone. "m-mhm" you moan leaning on her more. she reaches down and rubs your clit for you smirking. "that's it, my love, be a good girl and cum for us" she encourages softly, as you cum both of them help you through it, Persephone rubbing your clit, and Hades licking your hole. after you came down from your orgasm you lay against Persephone tired, she stroked your hair as she played you on her chest. you still felt hot but it was better than before. you feel hades begin to stand from between your legs, you don't think much of it until you hear clothing hitting the ground. persephone continues her gentle touches with her same kind smile. "you didn't think we we were done yet did you my love? me and Hades still haven't finished yet." she smirks, and you look at her scared shaking your head. "p-please n-no, I can't take it," you say, scared by the sheer size of Hades. they both chuckle. "of course you can my darling, he will be gentle." she smiles, holding you still as Hades lines up to your entrance before slowly easing his cock inside you, groaning as he finally feels you around him. "how is she my love" Persephone asks. "absolutely divine" he groans. you whine at the stretch. slowly hades moves until he bottoms out, staying there to let you adjust, as he does Persephone moves up on the bed a bit, bringing your face to her pussy. "pleasure me my darling." she smirks pulling your hair a bit as you give a small lick to her clit, slowly beginning to give bigger licks.

while Persephone shoves you between her legs hades slowly begins to move, slamming his cock in and out of your hole and picking up his pace slowly. he fucked into you fast, jolting your body up and down getting off of the sounds of your and his wife's moans. As he looked down and saw himself going in and out of you he couldn't help but picture what you would look like stuffed with his children, that thought alone nearly had him finishing. but he wanted to make you and Persephone finish first so he held off. "I'm close" he groans gripping your lower back tight. "me too" Persephone cries out gripping your hair tighter. she was the first to cum finishing on your face, keeping you between her legs until you licked her clean. then you came, crying out into Persephone's pussy from the intensity. hades came last, letting out a groan before finishing inside you. As Persephone pulled you back to her chest hades watched as his seed dripped from your hole, tempted to go again but he didn't know you were exhausted. he crawled up the bed pulling you into a kiss, tasting his wife's cum on your lips, before getting up to grab a cloth to clean you up. as he did Persephone cuddled you close whispering praise in your ear. "you did so well for us darling. You such a good girl." she whispers as Hades returns with a cloth and a cup of juice. persephone takes the cup of juice sending Hades a small smirk and holds it to your lips. "drink my love, you need to stay hydrated" she smiles tilting your head up to drink it. you sipped the juice not thinking anything of it, not noticing that the 12 pomegranate seeds filled the juice. after you finished it hades and Persephone smirked before cuddling you close between them. "You ours now" Hades smirks. "always for eternity" Persephone smiles. normally you would fight back or say you weren't, but now you were too tired to care.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

#blood of zeus smut #blood of zeus x reader #blood of zues #blood of zeus #bloodofzeus #persephone #hades #greek mythology #greek gods #boz #blood of zeus s2 #smut #mdni #boz smut

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totemstones · 1 month ago

Text

Before shooting

(Jennie x Male Character)

Tag : Blowjob

Length : 1.1K words

‘Hour and a half work after seeing this pic, i rushing it’

‘Pre-300 notes on my first post at first and a half day!!! Thank y’all’

Jennie has her shooting appointment for one of famous fashion brand, for being their’s ambassador. Brand’s team wants her to take a picture with their product, so they assign her to do a shooting.

When the shooting day has come. Jennie comes to meet the team to brief on the theme and details.

‘Hi, Jennie. Let’s go down to the details. I want you to be less teasing. You know, our brand is not that sexy, and since we saw what you did, like, the see-through shirt, inappropriate clothes, nip-slip during the performance, or shaking your butt on stage. I don’t know that if you’re doing this on purpose. So, i want you to be less teasing. Are you ok with that?’

‘Of course, i can do that’

‘I am trusting you, Jennie’

Since Jennie and the team are in the same line. The team let Jennie do the costume part. Jennie is getting mad about them.

‘Fuck, why they try to stop me for being teasing, that’s fucking me. Dumbass’

The fashion stylist guy preparing her clothes for shooting. Then Jennie starts to call him

‘Hey stylist, come here please.’

‘Yes’

Stylist ran into the changing room, where Jennie was still wearing her shirt.

‘What happens Jennie?’

‘I think the shirt is a little small for me, I think it’s fitted, but I want a new shirt that a little looser. Do you have another shirt like this.’

‘I’ll find it, wait for a moment’

‘Ok. When you find it then comes to me’

The stylist went to finds a new shirt for her, a one-size bigger. He finds it and runs back to her.

‘Jennie, I found a new one for you’

‘Alright, you can come in’

Stylist opens the door, and sees Jennie did a little loose on her clothes, both shirt and skirt, that he can noticing it.

‘Here, your new shirt’

‘Thank you. But I want you to do something’

‘What?’

‘Can you wear it for me?’

‘What! I can’t do that’

‘Oh, come on baby boy, you can do that to me. I didn’t mind that, come here’

Jennie snatches his hands and his hands are touch her titties.

‘Oh, sorry Jennie. I didn’t mean to do that’

‘Why you do that to me! I will tell your boss what you do that to their model!’

She says it loudly enough to make sure that someone will hear it. He feels like he might get in the trouble and will get fire soon if someone heard that, for being in the room with the model.

‘No, i’m sorry Jennie, i’m so sorr-’

‘Nuh uh shhh…, don’t say that to me, don’t act like a cry baby. I have a little barter for you.’

Jennie brings her stylist to stand up, and her hands start to scrape the pant around both of his thighs.

‘I’ll suck your dick, if you let me to do it, you might not get in the trouble. But if you don’t want me to do it, I’ll doing that again, and you might get fired soon. What do you want baby boy, scream for help or fuck my mouth until i scream’

She does a little handjob to get his dick getting bigger, seducing him with it.

‘I mean, i even hate them when they try to lower my seducing, to match their product’s theme, so why i supposed to call them for? Anyways, i want someone to see my seducing part but privately. Are you will be the first one to see that? This might be your remuneration from me’

Jennie don’t wait for his answer. She drags down his pant, the belt hitting on the floor make a sound, that’s make Jennie feels even hotter.

‘I mean, I don’t have too much self-confidence. But who the fuck will stop me to acting like that on stage, even the brands who pays me. My slutty side talents have to be shown to everyone’

Jennie taking his cock into her mouth, stylist releasing a groaning of relief, this making Jennie going faster on sucking his cock.

‘Oh Jennie, you’re so fucking good at this’

‘I know that, but don’t try to be praising me when i give it. You just pretend to love that’

He starts to grabs her head, and synchronizes her rhythm, to show that he really enjoys it without pretending. Now he starts to feels like he just fucking her mouth, and she’s not trying to blow it anymore

‘I didn’t pretend it bitch, I really loving it. Now you look like fucking lazy whore who let the boy control her head and rest’

Jennie got screw by him, by going in and out rawly.

One of the staff from the team started to finding Jennie, because she should have been shot now. So, they shouting her name out loud.

‘Jennie! It’s your queue now. Where are you’

Then they came to the costume room, and saw Jennie’s phone here, they thought that she might have a trouble about dressing.

‘Jennie. Are you in there?’

He lets his cock out to give a chance to Jennie to answers them’

‘Yes, I’m here, I just get a little trouble about my dressing here’

‘Oh! I’m sorry I will find the stylist for you’

‘Never mind, i did it by my o-‘

He can’t hold it. He takes his dick into his mouth again, and whispering to her ears.

‘Answer them while my cock in it. Let me see your actual talent here. You say you want to show your talents privately huh? Show it to me then’

He continue fucking her mouth slowly, not loud, to don’t make a noise and be heard by the staff outside.

Jennie had been silent for a moment. Staff start to wondering.

‘Jennie, are you okay?’

‘Yea- yeah, i a-am okay, dor-don’t worry bor-bout me’

‘Okay, but do it quickly, the cameraman is here now’

‘Alr-alright’

Both of them hearing the staff has closed the door. The tension is definitely rising. Jennie look up to him.

‘Did i show it correctly?’

‘That’s correct, but not complete yet. Let me cum in your mouth first’

‘Alright baby boy, i’ll let you cum in my mouth’

‘Alright, never think in my entire life that i will fuck a superstar like you, never. But thank you to want to being slut, want to acting slutty to someone. You make my dream comes true’

‘I’ll take that’

He pacing faster on her, her face getting more ahegao. Then his orgasm about to comes soon.

‘I’m about to cum. Can i blow it on your face or your tits’

‘Can you do both?’

‘I’ll sad if my clothes got wet as a stylist, but in this case, i’m so fucking happy right now, fucking with a superstar yet slutty artist. I’ll do both’

‘Bet’

Then he came all over her face and her shirt. The last groan from her is so sexy. She wipes the cream on the shirt.

‘I hope someone will not get mad because the cum and my sweat will make a strain on it’

‘I’ll keep it then, to remember what we just did in this changing room’

‘Ah. You such a romantic guy. Love you baby boy’

They get their dress back up again, he change a new shirt for her. Then gave him a 2-minutes romantic kiss for a tips before she will take a shooting.

Still continue…

#gg smut #m reader #jennie smut #k pop smut #gg x reader #blackpink smut

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count-on-mi · 2 months ago

Text

Twice Interactive Story Part 21 Queen (Sana, Tzuyu, Feat. Momo)

'Just remember you are going to fuck me, not Dahyun tomorrow, ok?' Sana gets up from your lap.

'Would you mind help me to dress up, boss?' Sana put her panties on the ground in your pocket.

'And I suggest you should talk with Mina too, maybe apologize? I don't know. She is really down today.'

"Yeah, I'll talk to her." I say as I help Sana.

Sana's face turns red as you playing her body while help her dressing. 'Can't you wait for tomorrow, huh?' Sana winks at you.

There's someone knocking on the door and she comes in before you answer, it's Tzuyu again.

'Seems I always come at the wrong time, is it part of my responsibility to serve you after I join the team?' Tzuyu sits on the sofa and watch your hands running through Sana's body.

"Only if you want it to be otherwise I'll keep my hands off you." I spank Sana as a sign for her to leave. "Was there something you wanted to talk about Tzuyu?"

Sana does not leave, instead she sits on your lap again and watch the conversation of you and Tzuyu.

'Really, but so far I see both of your subordinates are having relationships with you, is this the reason why you not get me in your team?' Tzuyu smirks

'I come for the deal, I wanna know when you will get me in, the deal should be honored.'

"I know and I'm working on something. The only problem is that your boss wants someone in return and I'm not willing to hand over Mina. So I'm trying to think of something else."

'Not willing to hand over Mina, cause she can only fucked by you huh?' Tzuyu keeps her unemotional face.

'Would you mind telling me what you are working tho? I need some guarantees.'

"That’s understandable. Sana here had mentioned previously she would be willing to be traded so that might be the only option. I doubt your boss would be willing to take any other team member."

'So you are not giving up Mina, but you will let Sana go? Is it mean Mina is more important?' Tzuyu smiles playfully.

Sana turns her head around, pretending she doesn't care. 'It's ok, I would like to try different men's cock, so...'

"I treasure both of them, the difference is I know Sana can take care of herself. She's a strong and beautiful woman. Mina would be put in more danger." I respond

'Boss...' Sana is touched by your response, she grabs you for a kiss.

'Tzuyu is watching, Sana.' You break the kiss and try to stop her.

'She already knows, what are you afraid of?' Sana ignores you and kisses you again.

'Umm.' You two end the kiss only after hearing Tzuyu makes some noise to let you know she is still here.

'Don't miss me, boss. I believe that old man's cock wouldn't be good as you.' Sana smirks

'Yes, his cock is just useless...' Tzuyu finds she is talking something inappropriate 'Sorry, I am not meaning that.'

I let out a laugh, "You're free to speak your mind Tzuyu, but yes that is the plan. I'll go and speak to your boss early next week."

'If that old man is useless, I bet Y/N must can satisfy you then.' Sana looks at Tzuyu playfully.

'No, I am not meaning that. I did not let him fuck me...' Tzuyu blushes and whispers

'I guess Tzuyu can replace me to serve boss while I am not here, right?' Sana stands up and walking to Tzuyu.

'Why don't you show us how you would serve the old man at usual.' Sana grabs her jaw and force Tzuyu to look at her.

"Sana, let her go. We're not going to force her into anything."

'Did anyone forced you, Tzuyu?' Sana asks.

'No, no one forced me, even that old man, is me seduced him in the interview.' Tzuyu's face is still red.

"Haha, good job using your skills Tzuyu. Is that all you came for, though? To make sure I held up my part?"

'Yes, I guess that's all I am coming for. But do you need me to show how can I work for you?' Tzuyu smirks and assault Sana's tits suddenly.

'Ah!' Sana moans as Tzuyu catches her tits.

"That's completely up to you Tzuyu. If you choose to, do it quickly." I respond while watching Sana and Tzuyu.

'Why we should go quick, you can enjoy it slowly.' Tzuyu releases Sana and start walking to you.

'So beautiful.' You talk to yourself, Tzuyu seems to be another person when she is seducing other man, you finally understand why that old man would fall into Tzuyu's temptation so easily, she is really a Helen of Troy. You already throw Dahyun out of your mind.

The sound of her high heels knocking on your heart, you like a wood that could not react until she is sitting on your lap, she grabs your hands and puts on her exposed thigh, slowly rubbing it. 'Welcome to Thighwan.' Tzuyu whispers in your ear.

I can't help but laugh, "I'm sorry but that's just too funny." I squeeze her thighs gently, "you have great thighs but that pun was just so unnecessary."

Tzuyu ignores you and keeps guiding your hands to rub her thigh. Your cock is erecting without her touch, the mood is so horny around Tzuyu. You start to breathe heavier as she continue to tease you.

You are surprised that how good is Tzuyu in seducing men, your lust slowly taking over you, you can feel pain from your cock as it is fully erected. You kiss Tzuyu's neck fiercely, smelling her scent, your hand is still rubbing her thigh even she stop guiding you. You turn into a breast that want to swallow Tzuyu.

I glance at Sana and then move my eyes back to Tzuyu multiple times hoping she understands that she should join in. At the same time I spread Tzuyu's legs open and rub my hand against her panties. "Would you like to continue?"

'If you want to continue, remove your hand, my body is free for use, except for holes in bottom.' Tzuyu moves your hands back to her thigh, pretending nothing has happened.

Sana comes around and grabs Tzuyu's head for kiss, while you still kissing her neck, one of your hands is still rubbing Tzuyu's thigh, and your other hand is teasing Sana's clit. While Tzuyu is focusing on Sana's tits, she didn't forget you, she adjusts her ass so her ass cheek is gripped and starts rubbing you.

Tzuyu is just like a living aphrodisiac, keep triggering the lust of you and Sana.

I strip Tzuyu of her top and start playing with her breasts with one hand, the other spanks her lightly.

Sana is the first one to reach orgasm, she can't contain anymore as you and Tzuyu are playing her at the same time.

'Ah....' Sana's legs are shaking as Tzuyu even increases her pace after Sana peaks.

Seeing this horny scene, you feel you are reaching your peak soon. Tzuyu feels your cock throbbing, and she grinds you harder. You close your eye and kiss her neck hardly, while your hands are grabbing her tits harder.

I pinch and pull on her nipples as I feel myself get closer to my orgasm.

Tzuyu knows exactly what you need, she starts moaning to make you even more excited. 'Cum for me.'

When you think you are going to enjoy another orgasm of the day, Tzuyu stops and brings Sana to the sofa, hanging you out at the seat, not allowed to cum.

You could already feel your cum reach your tip and ready to splash all over Tzuyu's back, but you were denied. Tzuyu points at the clock, it's just within 2 minutes since you start dry fucking her, you have never tried to cum so fast, Tzuyu is just a woman that is made for sex and no man could resist.

I stand up and go to Sana, flipping her over and pulling out her butt plug. After that I immediately ram my cock into her ass until I fill her with cum again. I put the plug back afterwards.

Sana just lays on the sofa and let you fuck you fuck her. You cum immediately when you put in, 'Oh....' Sana's body shivers as you deliver your cum in her ass, you pull out and insert the plug again, let your seed remain in her ass.

Tzuyu walks behind you and start jerking you off again, 'Enter her ass without lubrication? How horny you are? I thought you are going to enjoy my service.'

Maybe because it's Tzuyu, your cock is back to full hardness when she touches your cock, her hand feels like heaven, and you feel like you could cum at any time.

"Sana's ass is already lubricated." I respond.

'Oh, I don't expect you prefer ass more.' Tzuyu whispers in your ear, her hand is still stroking you.

Feeling your cock starts to throb again, Tzuyu asks' Do you wanna cum now, or you want to have more fun first?'

"It’s not that I prefer ass, Sana here wanted it there." I lightly smack her thighs, "let's have a little more fun."

'So, maybe you should finish it on my ass first.' Tzuyu kneels on Sana, and aligns your cock into her ass cheek, starts rubbing you again just like before.

Meanwhile, Tzuyu bites Sana's nipples and makes her moan again. Seeing two girls playing with each other makes you go wild, and you move your hips faster for more pleasure.

I grab onto Tzuyu's hips and start thrusting between her cheeks faster until I spill my load onto her back

Tzuyu arcs her back so you can shoot on her more easily, waves of cum you are shooting on her, some of them even lands on her hair. You grab her ass and use it as the platform for your shooting.

Tzuyu turns around when she feels you are finished, she fixed her cummed hair into a tail, you see the mess caused by you, and you feel horny again. You don't understand why, but your body has responded for you, and your cock start to harden again.

Tzuyu grabs it and stroking it again without hesitate, 'Seems you are enjoying my service, don't you? Guess I am a qualified team member now.'

"Not completely, but I won't push you any further."

'Why still further? I can make you happy without letting you enter me. You can't even hold on for 3 minutes when I rub you.' Tzuyu smirks and keeps stroking you, you moan her name from the sensation, and you can feel you are ready for orgasm again.

'See? Men could always have fun without entering me. Even My dad.' Tzuyu playfully squeezes and your cock pulse.

"Part of the fun is making the other person feel good too. It's not just meant to be me feeling good."

'Every man I met want to fuck me, from my classmates, teachers, and even my dad, I guess you are not different with them.' Tzuyu starts rubbing your tips as she feels you are reaching the orgasm.

'Oh Tzuyu... I am going to cum.' Your legs shake as she continues to rub your sensitive spots. You grab her meaty thigh harder.

'But I think it's more fun for me to see Men desperately want to fuck me, but they would just beg me to let them cum at the end. I guess I want to hear it now.' Tzuyu stops stroking you and instead teases you when you are one step from the orgasm.

"That maybe fun to you but I only feel it's right that you feel the same type of pleasure I'm feeling. If that’s all then you can go." I say as I resist Tzuyu.

'It's all excuse that you want to fuck me, leave it to your secretary. You are not gonna cum if you keep doing that. Say the word.' Tzuyu's hands move so quickly but keep giving you enough pleasure to maintain at the edge of orgasm, you cock can't catch her, and you seems just thrusting in the air. Sana can't stop to smirk as she never see you are so frustrated.

"Of course, I want to fuck you, but you made it quite clear you don't want that. You even seem to feel superior about it, quite trashy if I do say so. You can leave now." I say as I pull away from her and dress myself.

'How do you know I won't let you fuck me if you beg for it.' Tzuyu said as she removes the last piece of clothes, she is fully naked now, and your eye scanned her body, from her mid-size tits, her abs, her great hips, her meaty thighs, and her long legs. You back to the head and see her seductive face. Your bulge in your pants becomes even bigger. The existence of Tzuyu is already a temptation, you now understand what she said, every man she met will definitely want to fuck her.

Tzuyu walks to you and slowly caresses your bulge, 'Are you sure you going to leave now? You are not going to have a second chance.'

"You're the type that'll make me beg and then not give it to me. I know that for certain." I respond. "Don't try to tell me otherwise."

'If you beg, you could at least cum, right?' Tzuyu squeeze your bulge before stepping away and start dressing.'

'I am glad that you can hold on, you are the first one who can do it. No one can resist me in the past, that's why I am still a virgin.'

'I guess you should leave with your bulge maybe. Don't help him, Sana. Let him suffer the pain of allowing to cum, let him know girls are not belong to men.' Tzuyu says when she approaches the door.

"She is going to be annoying," I say to myself. "You're free to go if you'd like Sana"

'She is fun, isn't she? She is so beautiful and skillful, I am turned on immediately after she touched me. I see you are too? You cum 2 times in 5 minutes! I never see you cum that quickly. She is just born for sex, no matter whether male or female would fall to her. I am looking forward to playing with her again.'

'It's a shame I can't see Tzuyu showcasing her skill more, do you need me to help you before I off work? Or you want to leave it for tomorrow' Sana points at your bulge, it is not as big as you are playing with Tzuyu, it's still obvious that your cock need to be free.

"If you wouldn't mind Sana. This time I want to cum in your pussy though."

'Sure, boss. Just do it in the way you like.' Sana sits on your desk and uncover her skirt, you can see her pussy is wet already.

I slide my cock between her pussy lips a few times before thrusting into Sana. I pull Sana into a kiss. "I'll miss you, Sana. Tomorrow we'll spend the entire day fucking."

'Ah, Miss me already when you are still fucking me?' Sana returns to your kiss. ' I will be happy if you have the stamina to fuck me the whole day tomorrow, get some rest tonight, ok? Don't fuck other girls and leave the cum for me.' Sana grabs your ass and pushes you towards her.

I continue thrusting into Sana, joking "weren't you saying to fuck Dahyun just a little while ago?"

'I wouldn't mind you go to fuck her, but you can't cum. From now until the end of tomorrow, all your cum should be dedicated for me, ok?' Sana starts licking your nipple to give you more pleasure.

'You can bring Dahyun come tomorrow, let her know how bad her Oppa is.'

"I'm not doing that Sana," I pick up my pace and ram my cock deeper into Sana, "tell me when you're going to cum"

'Why huh? Afraid your image of good Oppa will collapse?' Sana increases her pace of grinding, she tenses her pussy for milking you.

'If you bring Dahyun to come tomorrow, I can create a chance for you to fuck her, but you need to come for me again, deal?'

"I'm not going to bring Dahyun, Sana." I pull on Sana's hips and hold her down while I start to piston in and out of Sana's pussy.

'You gonna fuck her in mind for the rest of your life huh?' Sana bites your nipple lightly, make you to moan.

'Dahyun is cumming, Oppa, faster!' Sana starts the role play again as she sees you refuse to admit the fact.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Take it all Sana!" I say I bury cock deep inside her and start to cum inside her.

'Yes, Oppa, give a kid to Dahyun! Cum in me!' Sana screams when she cums with you, you are more turned-on hearing Dahyun ask you to cum for her. The waves of cum keep splashing out from your cock, her walls presses you tightly to drain you.

'You should call me Dahyun instead of Sana, we are role-playing.' Sana rest lazily on your desk as she is recovering.

I pull out of Sana and sit down. "Yeah, sure I'll do it tomorrow if you want."

'Is you want, not I want, don't you want to fuck Dahyun huh?' Sana leaves the table and kneels to clean your cock.

The suction of Sana's mouth is really, you can feel she is sucking the remaining cum out of your cock. You pat her head and enjoy her service.

'So, how do you feel? You can fuck Sana and 'Dahyun' both tomorrow, excited?'

I force Sana down to the base of my cock. "Let's be quiet and enjoy this."

Sana has no other options as your push her deeply into your base, she now focuses on your cock and cleaning it.

You look at Sana starts to gag as your keep holding your cock in her throat.

Your phone rings and it's Momo, she should be coming for your answer. You look at the phone and think should you pick up the call.

I mute the ringtone and let Sana finish before calling Momo back when I'm alone.

Sana did not give you the chance, she strugglely grabs the phone and help you pick up the call while she is still sucking you.

The speaker is on, and there is only silence, after a while Momo finally speaks. 'Long time no see, how are you, Y/N?'

"Doing better, how are you?"

'No, no good, very bad when I am not with you.' Momo answers you on the other side of the phone.

You try to answer her but Sana is keep teasing you, you don't want Momo suspect anything as you think you will start to moan.

The call is silence again, you brain is fully functioning while you enjoy Sana's intense blow job.

'Y/N?' Momo asks again.

"I'm sorry Momo, just a bit busy with work. I also don't know what to say"

'So you don't have anything that you want to say? such as our relationship.' Momo asks again.

Sana's faces show that she is waiting for the drama, but she increases her intensity at the same time.

You are excited at this scenario which you two may get caught, your breath become heavier.

'Hey ,Y/N, are you listening to me?'

"Momo there are a lot of things I want to say but I don't know how to say them. I think that we should meet up some day next week. This weekend doesn't work for me unfortunately."

Sana seems not satisfied by your answer, she wants more drama. Sana let your cock go, and start rides you.

You try to push away Sana, but she just put a finger on her lips and tell you to be quiet, meanwhile she bite her lips to prevent let out moan.

'I want to see you now, Y/N. I just miss you so much.'

'Sorry, I need to pick up my step sister tonight, I am really not free.

'Umm... Um.....' Sana reaches orgasm first in this excited scenario, her juice splashing all over your cock, you can't hold on anymore, you push deeper and cum in her.

Momo seems noticed something as she hear your tone so strange, and she could hear some sounds from you and Sana's body when Sana rides you.

'You ok? Y/N, is there someone next to you?'

"I have a co-worker with me, I'm trying to juggle two things at once. Sorry, give me a minute to call you back." I hang up before Sana has a chance to stop me.

'Damn, it's so excited. I love it.' Sana starts to catch her breath after you end the call.

'I'm so high, she nearly caught us. Can you feel how tight I am?' Sana says while grinding you again.

'Maybe we can call Dahyun tomorrow while we are fucking.'

"Get dressed and get out Sana. We'll talk tomorrow." I say very seriously.

Sana gets up from your lap and kisses you, 'Remember get some rest tomorrow, I hope both of us can't walk on Sunday, see you tomorrow.' Sana then get dressed and leave your room.

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #m reader #twice imagines #momo smut #sana smut #tzuyu smut #twice momo #twice sana #twice tzuyu

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kinkyniragi · 1 month ago

Text

Through the Keyhole

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader Genre: Smut 18+ Word count: 3,1k Summary: Thomas Shelby can fuck you without touching you. Yes, even—especially—if you're his new maid. CN: Masturbation, domination/power imbalance…ok, heavy ownership vibes, orgasm denial. Please note that this is all just fantasy. Things that happen in my stories should always be consensual. Take care. Author’s note: Feel free to leave comments and share my story if you enjoy it—I truly appreciate every bit of motivation to keep writing. Even though I'm not a native speaker, I'll do my best 😉

***

Masterlist

You shouldn’t be here.

You shouldn’t be standing outside Mr. Shelby’s office, your hand pressed against the cold wooden door, your breath shallow as you peer through the keyhole. But here you are, heart hammering in your chest, unable to move, unable to look away. What you hope to see behind the closed door seems way too tempting.

You have been working at Arrow House for only a few weeks, assigned as one of the maids responsible for maintaining the estate. From the beginning, you sensed something unusual in the air—a quiet, charged tension between you and Mr. Shelby that neither of you acknowledged aloud. You told yourself you were imagining it. You kept your head down, kept your hands busy, and did your best to ignore the way his presence seemed to command every room he entered. But the feeling never faded. If anything, it grew.

It didn’t help that the uniform they gave you felt… wrong. The skirt hem a touch too high, the bodice a fraction too tight. More decorative than practical. You’d worked in other houses before, but none had required anything like this. But you felt like you had no choice. You needed this job. Badly. Which meant you couldn’t afford to let yourself be noticed—not for the wrong reasons. You were careful. Controlled. Professional.

And yet.

The day had been a haze of tension, a slow burn you hadn’t been able to shake since this morning. It had started with an offhanded remark—a quiet comment as you polished the desk in the drawing room. “If you bend over any further, sweetheart, I’ll start thinking you’re trying to tempt me.”

Your fingers had tightened around the cloth, your pulse skipping, but you had swallowed your response, pretending not to hear him.

Except, he knew.

He had seen the flush creep up your neck, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly when you set the glass down in front of him at lunch. And later, when you passed him in the hallway, he had let his fingers brush against the back of your hand—it would undoubtedly have been possible to pass you without any physical contact. Still, you doubted your perception and wondered if you had just imagined it.

You hadn’t.

It wasn't a coincidence, not carelessness. It was something more deliberate, more testing. As if he were watching, waiting, pushing just enough to see when you’d break—when you’d lose that carefully practiced composure. Was this how Thomas Shelby flirted, seduced? Making it seem like an accident, yet inevitable, until you mistrusted your own senses and wondered if it was you who initialized it? And yet, beneath the provocation, you sensed something else. A warning. A dare.

You had resisted. Because you weren’t foolish enough to believe that giving in would lead to anything good at the end of the day. For all you knew, it was a test. One misstep, one moment of indulgence, and he’d decide you weren’t suited to this kind of household. That he had hired a whore, not a maid. Not only would you lose that much-needed job, but you might find yourself in another job sooner than you'd like. You've heard too much about Thomas Shelby and his shady businesses.

So, you pretended. You ignored the heat curling in your stomach, the unspoken challenge in his gaze. You kept your head down and did your job.

But the tension had only grown heavier.

Which is why, when you saw the flickering glow of the fireplace under his office door late tonight, long after you should have knocked off work, you had paused. And then you had done something you shouldn't have.

You decided to secretly watch him.

Inside, Mr. Shelby sits in his armchair facing the fireplace, legs spread, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, the other holding a glass of whiskey. His head is tipped back slightly, exposing the sharp cut of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. The light from the lit fireplace casts dancing shadows on his face, making him appear gentle and peaceful. But this is deceptive.

He takes a slow sip, his lips parting just enough for the amber liquid to slip past them before he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Just the sight of him sitting there and the knowledge that you're doing something forbidden makes your knees go weak.

And then—he sets the glass down on the small wooden side table, his fingers drifting lower, slow, unhurried. Your pulse slams against your ribs as you watch his other hand move to his belt, fingers working the buckle open, then the button of his trousers, then the zipper. Heat is pooling between your legs as he slips a hand inside.

God.

You should leave. You know you should leave as fast as you can.

But you don’t.

You watch, paralyzed, as he exhales slowly, his fingers wrapping around his twitching cock, his grip firm, practiced. His hips lift slightly as he pushes his trousers lower, exposing more of himself, and when his head tips back further, eyes fluttering shut, a quiet groan escapes his lips.

A shudder rolls through you, your fingers gripping the doorframe as your thighs press together involuntarily. You find yourself thinking about ripping open the door and sitting on him without warning. But nothing seems more unimaginable and inappropriate. He's your boss.

You shouldn’t be seeing this. You shouldn’t be feeling this. But the sight of him like this—so controlled even in his own pleasure, so unbothered by the rest of the world—it makes something dark and forbidden twist inside you.

You have to stifle a scream of terror when you suddenly hear him shout something—

"Y/N"

Holy shit. How could he—

For a moment, you think you must have hallucinated it. He couldn’t possibly—

"Y/N. Come in. Now."

His voice is sharper this time, edged with command, and panic spikes through you as you stumble back. No doubt that he caught you. Your feet move before you can think, and before you know it, your hand is on the doorknob, pushing it open. You don't know if it's blind obedience to your boss or a suppressed desire trying to find its way to the surface.

The room feels impossibly warm as you step inside, your skin burning under his gaze. He’s still seated, still exposed, but his hand is no longer moving. Instead, he watches you with the same quiet intensity as always—calculating, knowing. The fact that you can watch him in this intimate moment, pleasuring himself, doesn't seem to embarrass him in the slightest. On the contrary, it seems as if he's holding his cock like a weapon against you.

He leans back slightly. "You enjoy invading your employer’s personal space, eh?"

Your mouth opens, but no words come out.

“So, is this your idea of how to do your job conscientiously?”

You indicate a shy shake of the head and avoid returning his gaze.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” He picks up his whiskey again, taking a slow sip, smirking. “I know maids. Always curious. They listen when they shouldn’t. They watch when they think no one sees.”

Your heart hammers.

He shakes his head with mock regret. “And do you really believe a man in my position wouldn’t have his own ways of knowing when someone is creeping around his house?”

“But, I haven’t—” you try to justify yourself, knowing full well that it is hopeless.

"I’d suggest you stop lying to me," he interrupts you, voice calm, steady. “Because I’d hate to punish you for it.”

Heat coils in your stomach at the quiet warning beneath his words.

And then—his fingers tighten around himself again, moving just slightly.

“Tell me,” he says, watching you, measuring your reaction. “Do you like what you see?”

He lifts his cock toward you as if he's aiming it at you. He not just his very personal weapon against you, but also an invitation you know you'd better decline—if you can.

He hums while still shamelessly stroking himself, breathing heavily. “Tell me the truth.”

Heat floods your face, you lower your chin in shame, but your body betrays you before you can deny it—your thighs pressing together, your fingers twitching at your sides. His eyes flicker lower, catching the movement, and his smirk deepens.

“Thought so.”

And then he says something that makes you gasp.

"Well then... let’s make things even, shall we?"

Your eyes snap to his, wide, disbelieving.

His voice remains calm, even. "It’s only fair, isn’t it? You watched me. Now, I watch you."

Your breath stutters, your legs frozen. "I—I can’t—"

"You can," he says simply, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. "And you will." His tone is almost lazy, but his eyes—his eyes are anything but.

When you hesitate, he exhales a quiet laugh.

“Or should I assume that you are defying your boss? With all consequences? Do you want me to think that my lovely new maid is looking for trouble? That would be a very bad thing.”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate—makes you realize, in that moment, that this isn’t a test at all.

It’s an order, the silent warning brought to life, which you now realize too late, when there is no way back.

Silence stretches between you, thick and charged. His gaze never wavers, pinning you in place, commanding you to obey him.

Thomas Shelby, the man who is used to have a whole town follow his commands.

The way he’s looking at you leaves no doubt that he already knows you’ll obey. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s still lazily stroking himself, still impossibly composed, while your own skin feels too tight, too hot, too sensitive.

Whatever it is, your hands tremble as they move to the hem of your nightdress.

A flicker of approval crosses his face, brief but unmistakable.

"Go ahead," he murmurs. “Pleasure yourself the way you always do.”

Your pulse pounds as you pull the fabric higher, baring your thighs, your hips, the soft cotton of your underthings. His eyes darken, his hand moving just a fraction faster.

"I bet you do this a lot, don’t you?" He lets out a low chuckle. "Poor thing… no husband to fuck you properly. How often do you need it?"

As if his command to touch yourself in front of him wasn’t overwhelming enough already. You have a sinking feeling that his little game of question and answer is going to push you right to your limits…and beyond.

"I—I don’t know. Usually, I don’t—"

He cuts you off again. "Don’t play innocent, sweetheart. That only makes things harder for both of us." His tone sharpens. "When your boss asks you a question, you answer properly. And keep doing what you’ve started."

Your fingers slip beneath the fabric of your underwear, finding the heat between your legs. A soft gasp escapes before you can stop it.

A pause. He watches you with an intense gaze.

"Now answer my question. How often?"

"Maybe… once a week?" you offer hesitantly, trying to give him something without handing him every detail on a silver platter. "I don’t really keep track…"

He hums, considering. "And here, in your quarters—have you done it since you started working for me?"

Heat floods your face.

Yes. You have. Not just once. Not just once a week. Ever since you met him, you haven’t been able to stop.

"Yes," you whisper, ashamed.

A beat of silence.

"I see." His voice is unreadable. And then, casually—too casually—"I suppose it might be worth my while to take a peek through your keyhole sometime, don’t you think?"

Your stomach twists.

You swear to yourself—right here, right now—that from now on, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.

Or at least, you wish you could swear it.

Because if you lose this job and have to go home to confess that you got yourself fired for fucking your employer…

Your parents would never forgive you.

You look at him with wide eyes, hoping that what you’re doing in front of him will be enough of a distraction—enough to draw his focus away from his…inappropriate interrogation. The situation has long since crossed the boundaries of a professional working relationship, but you haven’t given up on damage control just yet. If you give him a little show, let him get what he wants and take his pleasure, maybe he’ll let you go. Maybe you’ll never have to speak of this… incident again.

But then, his expression shifts. Mr. Shelby doesn’t look satisfied.

"Ah, ah—" His voice is almost scolding. ""I can't see anything like this. Take off your panties and lie down on the couch. Legs apart."

Reluctantly, you slide your underwear down and lower yourself onto the plush velvet couch. From his armchair, he has the perfect view of you—laid bare before him, exposed in a way you never should be. At least the indecent sight between your parted thighs does succeed in momentarily diverting his attention from his questioning. And at least this way, it’s him pulling you into whatever this is, leaving you innocent, whatever it may be of use to you.

His breath hitches at the sight, and his grip tightens as he strokes himself, his movements quickening. But you know, with absolute certainty, that this won’t stop him from pressing you further. From giving you more orders.

Your fingers circle your clit, dip into the wet heat between your thighs. Mr. Shelby stills for a moment, taking another slow sip of whiskey, before resuming his unhurried pace. Minutes stretch endlessly between you until, suddenly, he stops and gestures toward his dark wooden desk.

"I can’t keep watching this," he says, voice low. "Go to my desk. Open the top left drawer."

You cringe. The top drawer on the left. You know that drawer.

He knows maids. Always curious. Damn it.

You hesitate but reach for the handle. Inside, nestled among the usual office supplies, are candles—thick and long enough to rival his own impressive size. Your fingers twitch slightly as you skim over them, trying to suppress any reaction, but you can feel his gaze burning into you.

"Go on, don’t act so shy now," he drawls. "Pick one. I know your sweet little fingers aren’t enough for you. Why else would one of them be missing?"

You gasp. Your intuition was right again. He knows.

Your thoughts scramble for an escape, but there’s none. This man sees everything. He has you in the palm of his hand. And now, you’re not even sure whether his comment about looking through your keyhole was just a threat— or a confession.

Slowly, you pick up a candle, red and heavy in your grasp, quickly warming to your touch. Your knees are weak as you sink back onto the couch.

"Now," he says, his tone leaving no room for disobedience, "I want to see you use it. No teasing. No shy little act. Do it like you always do. Fuck yourself the hard way. And don’t you dare stop until I say so."

You part your legs wider and guide the candle between them, pushing it inside. Even though you’re already soaked, your breath stutters at the stretch, at the slow, deep fullness of it. He’s caught you—he knows exactly what you’ve done, what you’ve thought about. And now, with every steady thrust of your hand, you feel his gaze weighing heavier on you, waiting to witness your relief. Not only is it degrading that you're supposed to masturbate with a candle in front of him, the craving for his cock is almost consuming you and simultaneously bringing you closer to climax. He's so close, almost tangible, and yet out of your reach.

Mr. Shelby’s own pleasure builds in tandem, tension coiling in his body as he watches, utterly riveted. His strokes become erratic, his breathing uneven. You hear it before you see it—the sharp intake of breath, the low groan of release. He spills over, onto the floor, onto the side table, his body shaking with the force of it. A few final, languid strokes, and then he collapses back into his armchair with a satisfied sigh.

His eyes fall shut as he basks in the aftershocks of his climax.

You’re still teetering on the edge, aching, desperate to finish. Cautiously, you glance at him, fingers slowing—

"Don’t you dare."

Your breath stills. His voice is firm, lazy but laced with authority. Of course, his eyes weren’t fully closed.

"You’ll put the candle back where you found it," he murmurs, amusement flickering across his expression.

As you stand up, your legs tremble, and your vision blurs. With a soft click, you place the candle back into the drawer.

“And the other one too,” he says coldly. “Return it before you go to bed. As long as you work in my house, you follow my rules.”

His rules. You think you must have misheard. He left it deliberately vague, but you already know what it means. It’s not just about working hours or instructions—he wants control. Control over you, over your body.

You stand with your back to him, hardly daring to turn around. But then he speaks again.

“Y/N,” he says, calm but firm. “Tomorrow, you’ll receive an amendment to your contract. I expect you to be available in the evenings as well. Don’t worry, you’ll be well compensated. Your family could certainly use the money, as maybe they can keep their house after all the debt your father has accumulated.”

That damn bastard.

Your hands clench into fists.

“It’s the right decision,” he continues calmly. “You’ve shown me that you understand. I like that.” A pause. “We’re going to have a productive partnership.”

He leans back, studying you. “And before you go to your room—take care of the mess here.” He points to the side table and the floor, which are stained with the remnants of his lust.

You take a deep breath, straighten your clothes, and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“To the kitchen, to get a cloth. So that your office shines in its usual glory tomorrow.” You put on your fake smile and try to return to a professional tone.

He shakes his head and gets up. “That won’t be necessary, sweetheart.” His hand rests heavily on your shoulder. “I think you’ll find another way to handle it.”

His gaze locks onto yours, challenging. Your heart pounds.

"You'll clean this up without a cloth. And I'll be watching. Quite a fitting preview of our future collaboration, eh?"

#thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian fic #cillian fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby

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lily-jaxk · 2 months ago

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MC Twin AU - RAFAYEL'S Muse

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty pleaseeee?"

"No and that's final!"

MC pouts making you roll your eyes at her, pushing around your straw that was in your drink. You place your chin on your palm and sigh. "Look, it sounds fun don't get me wrong, but I'm not really an art person you know? I wouldn't understand anything going on!"

MC raised a brow and pointed at your computer. "Isn't writing basically an art form!? So that makes you an artist as well!"

You could only deadpan at your twin. "Writing fanfiction is not something I typically boast about."

"But you display them publicly, like an art gallery! Hence, you are perfect for this!'

You stared at her and loudly slurped up your drink, then raised a brow at MC. "Ok, let's recap." You say, letting out a small sigh. "You got invited to this huge gallery thing, but you were also assigned to be security by the Hunter's Association for the very same gallery. So the person who gave you the invite said to not waste it and invite someone else, am I right?"

"Basically yeah."

"Ok. Next question before I decide to go or not. Why me-"

"Oh? If it isn't Miss Bodyguard~"

You pause when you hear a strinkingly familiar voice, then glance up when you see him.

Holy shit. He looked even hotter in reality.

"Rafayel?" MC blinks with confusion, placing the spoon she was about to put in her mouth back on her plate. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be preparing for your art show?"

You freeze at her words. Art Show? Rafayel? His Art Show!?

You should have known! How many fucking artists did your sister know except for him!? Of course, the art show she was bugging you to attend was his own! How could you be so stupid!?

You flinch slightly as Rafayel lets out an amused laugh, waving his hand nochantly. "Thomas has everything under control. All I really have to do is just show up and smile a bit. How boring."

Alright, [Name], this was NOT the time for simping! Sure, the man you wasted so much time and energy on was right next to you. Sure, the man you actually spent money on was breathing the same air as you, but crush down those hopes and dreams of seducing him! You weren't MC, and that was fine.

When they get married, at least you can stuff yourself full on the seafood that no doubt will be there. Mhmmm, you couldn't wait!

"Oh, Rafayel. This is my twin [Name]!" MC's voice breaks through your mind, and you blink back into awareness, then shoot a panicked, wide-eyed look at your twin, which she easily ignores. "[Name], this is Rafayel, the person whose art gallery is putting on a show for his works."

You finally raise your head to look up at him again (when had you lowered your head?), and your breath stutters. Fuck him being a mermiad, he was a gosh darn Siren. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Rafayel." You give him a small smile, trying your hardest not to squeal with excitement as he gives you a smile back. "I've seen some of your artwork. It really is beautiful."

"Hmm. I know."

Brat.

"So, will you come?" MC demands, reaching over to tap your arm. You let out a long sigh, rubbing your forehead. Alright, what were the pros and cons of going to this art show? Pros! You get to see Rafayel's work in real life since the game wouldn't show you anything. Pros! There's bound to be good food there since the little fishie is so rich. Pros! Hot Man In Sight.

Cons: Hot Man In Sight. Cons: It might disturb plot. Cons: Even though you loved your twin, jealousy was an ugly thing.

. . . . Damm. The pros outweighed the cons. You let out a tired sigh and glare at your sister. "Fine. But! As soon as you're off the clock, I'm out."

"Yay! Thank you!"

Hours passed, and you found yourself in the art show. You take a bite of the shrimp you had snatched from the table and stare up at the painting before you. The beautiful blues of the ocean, the little pink and orange jellifishes, and a colorful school of fish swam around the huge white clam that had a beautiful pearl in the middle. You swallow your shrimp and tilt your head to the side, trying to imprint the painting in your mind.

"I saw those little fishies in a dream." A voice whispers next to you, making you almost choke on your shrimp. After you had finished dying, you turned your head to see Rafayel standing next to you, his gaze completely on the painting. "In my dream, a silly fish let his friends so he could try and get that pearl. But he failed in the end."

Hot man talking hot man talking hot man- "The fish sounds very brave." You inwardly panic as he turns his head to silently stare at you. "Even if he failed, at least he tried! Most people, or well, fishes in this case, would rather let their desires fester back to the bottom of the sea."

Wait a second. Was Rafayel talking about how he represented the fish and how MC was the pearl? Goodness gracious, you were about to scream. You clear your throat and quickly toss another shrimp in your mouth to try and calm your thoughts. "My sister is still busy."

"I knoow," he sighs out, and you can't help but let out a small laugh. "And this art show is so boring. So, tell me about yourself."

Huh? "What?"

He leans closer to you, a smile on his face that makes your heart beat faster, blood rushing in your veins. "Tell me more about yourself," he says again. "I want to know more about Miss Bodyguard's twin."

. . . . You know what? Fine. It wasn't like you were actively trying to romance him! You could be friends! "Sure! What would you like to know?"

"Everything and anything." he smiles wider.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Rafayel | 18+

Happy Birthday, Rafayel! I hope you have a wonderful day with MC

#love and deepspace #lnds rafayel #lads #rafayel love and deepspace #lads rafayel #happy birthday rafayel #mc twin au #rafayel lnds #rafayel x you #rafayel l&ds #l&ds #lnds #rayafel lnds love and deepspace #lnds rayafel #lnds fic

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vivienne-charm · 5 months ago

Text

When you use a cheesy pickup line pt. 2

Here's the part one!

Part 2 because part 1 reached 100 notes. tysm!!♡

Ace

⋆ "Ace, your freckles are the dots that connect the stars of our destiny."

⋆ since you guys banter often, he automatically thinks you're playfully insulting his freckles.

⋆ "Y/N, your receding hairline is the constant reminder of our timeless love."

⋆ oh, he's determined to one up you now.

⋆ the playful mix of banter and flirting soon turns into a duel of personal digs at each other.

⋆ "I hate your greasy hair."

⋆ "I hate your greasy guts."

⋆ eventually, when you dramatically get up to leave, ace grabs your wrist and stops you.

⋆ "heyyy did i get on your nerves? i thought we were jokin' around."

⋆ "we were until you decided to attack me personally"

⋆ "What??! You can go ask Marco if you want, everyone thinks your teeth are yellower after brushing."

⋆ "That's not what I was-- Ok, you know what? your hair is so oily, everyday is monsoon for lice inside."

⋆ and the banter never stops.

Shanks

⋆ "Shanks, you're like the Red Line. Always dividing my thoughts between you and everything else."

⋆ you have no idea what you have just gotten yourself into.

⋆ "Oh, is that so? You know I'm out here looking for a treasure, so may I see your chest?"

⋆ he's humoring you and your silly pick up line

⋆ this is suddenly the corniest pick-up line contest, except shanks is really into it.

⋆ "Shanks, even if you were a marine, I'd still wanna be a pirate, so I can see you chase after me."

⋆ he was just looking for an opportunity to talk dirty with you and you've just handed it to him

⋆ "I've got the handcuffs with me, so why don't we start the chase in the bedroom?"

⋆ he's super smooth every time he flirts, eventually seducing you with his words.

⋆ let's just say, it was a passionate night for both of you.

Buggy

⋆ being silly in front of a clown is tough work.

⋆ but you're tough soooo

⋆ "Buggy, I—"

⋆ "Yes, my fan?"

⋆ oh you no longer want to use any sort of pick up line for him. any words of flattery would be absolutely EATEN UP by him.

⋆ "What happened, my fan? I thought you were saying something. Go on."

⋆ he acts so high and almighty that you're fed up of him at this point

⋆ "Come on now tell me." he nudges you.

⋆ "Tell me now?" "Heyyyyyyyyyy!" "Hey come on" "Hey this is unfairrrr you've got me all curious now" "Hey hey hey hey heyyyy" "Are you even listening to meeee right now" "Hey hey are you alive at this moment" "Blink twice if you--"

⋆ he's like a housefly now. he keeps nudging you with his finger, with a dry stick which he just randomly spawned, just keeps circling you trying to get it out of you, while you just sit there unresponsive.

⋆ eventually though, you forgive him for cockily calling you his fan and just when you try to continue, "Well Buggy I just wanted to—"

⋆ "I KNEW IT! MY FAN WANTED TO PRAISE ME!!! YOU NEEDN'T SPEAK FURTHER. I UNDERSTAND. I UNDERSTAND HOW AWESOME I AM. I UNDERSTAND JUST HOW AMAZING, SPLENDID OF A BOYFRIEND I AM THAT YOU'RE HEAD OVER HEELS—"

⋆ he just keeps blabbering on and on and on

⋆ sometimes you wish you hadn't fallen for this bratty guy but deep inside he was a real sweetheart so it was a little conflicting

• • •

#one piece #y/n #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace #buggy the clown #shanks #one piece headcanons #headcanons

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city.

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him.

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun.

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?”

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that.

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices.

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly.

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again.

And again… And again.

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him.

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby.

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing.

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you.

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes.

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe.

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check.

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over.

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his.

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men.

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore.

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her.

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table.

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are.

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles?

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good.

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?"

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?"

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared.

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends.

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary.

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours.

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again.

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?”

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now.

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?”

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts.

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again.

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x nun!reader #forbidden love #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you

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