#stop I've cried enough over these two already

[neverendingford]

.

[bonbonly]

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: let her taste the fires of hell, or let her be mine and mine alone! - the young chaplain, charles leclerc, cannot control his desires when the very object of sin crosses his path: you. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping/flogging, forced breeding, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, carving, overstimming/edging, bondage, kidnapping 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on the hunchback of notre dame and hilda furacao! also guys... read the second part: You're My Religion

chaplain!charles waited impatiently at the front doors of the cathedral. his brow arched at the bell ringers who passed by him to attend to the younger chaplains. he bit the inside of his cheek, narrowing his eyes at father gasly who had just received a basket of bread and eggs, enough to share for two; however, father gasly had already promised father ocon the week before that when the bell ringer delivered the next basket of groceries, he would share 30% of the goods with him. that left 60%, and charles had made it very clear that would only have 50% of the basket, never 30%. he would never settle for less, no matter the circumstances. his head snapped back to face the street at the edge of the staircase down below, eyes searching for his specific bell ringer. the items he had listed were very simple: bread, cheese and a pint of milk. yet, the imbecile - as charles would put it - made it seem as if the young chaplain had asked for the finest meal in all of the country. he saw the boy run up the staircase, panting heavily,

"forgive me, father leclerc," the boy heaved, struggling to catch his breath. he thrusted the basket into the hands of the chaplain, "i believe i've bought everything that you asked for."

charles peered into the basket, frowning when he noticed only the bread and milk. the cheese was not present. he glared at the young boy, eyes shifting to the sky as he inhaled, sharply, "lord, grant me the strength to not strike this young lad for his incompetence," his eyes traveled down to the boy once more, "where is the cheese?"

"w-what? i swear the lady in the market gave it to me!" he cried out, burying his head inside the basket. charles pushed his head away as the boy continued to rant, "i swear she did! i even paid for it with the alms that were given to you, father leclerc! she put something inside along with the bread and milk, i am sure of it!" he watched charles shift through the basket once more, his nimble fingers pushing the slices of bread around when he noticed a thinly shaped parchment tucked between two slices. he pulled it out, flipping it around to see that it was folded into four pieces and he tossed the basket to the boy before opening the paper.

"god is a lie, tell your beloved peasants residing in the church that their foolish words shall no longer have appeal, so long as i live!"

charles crumpled the paper and tossed it down the stairs, a snarl on his lips as he glared at the boy, "who gave you this basket? who would dare write such heresy to be given to the devotees of god here?"

"i-i do not know! maybe the baskets were switched!" the boy reasoned, and charles yanked the basket from his hand and stormed into the cathedral, barking at the other men that blocked his path towards his cell. he was stopped quite shortly by father bozzi who beckoned him towards the main altar,

"father leclerc, you are causing quite the storm today," he commented, instantly raising a finger to silence charles' arguable words. he brought a hand over the younger man's shoulder, guiding him to stand right before the holy cross, hung gloriously above for all to see. the light from the glass windows shifted towards the cross, as if god himself was asking of charles to redirect his attention back to the being that expected better of him. he swallowed, thickly, taking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, letting the still air of the cathedral silence his restless mind. "you must learn to control your emotions. it is bad to let your tongue slither around, you must hold it as you must your anger. you are to set an example to the other chaplains. in a month, you shall become a chapter priest. i have put good word for you to archdeacon vasseur, he cares for you tremendously, you are practically his son!"

the golden child of the cathedral, charles knew what his situation was. yet the pressure of it all, to be better than the others, to see to it that one day he would be the archdeacon. it was all too much for him to handle, to understand the expectations. his heart swelled at the praise, but the nagging sensation of what he had read from the parchment continued to persist and he let his eyes fall to the holy cross once more, "with such a divine presence in our lives, it irks me that there is someone amongst our town preaching heresy to the people."

"heresy? are you sure, father leclerc?" father bozzi furrowed his brows, leaning in closer to ensure the commonfolk around them would not be able to eavesdrop. charles jerked his head to guide them both to a corner before whispering into the man's ear,

"i am positive. one of the bell ringers came to me with my basket of bread and milk and inside was found a parchment that emphasized how god is a lie," charles noticed the way father bozzi's hands flung to his ears, deafening himself to such disgusting words. he shook his head, crossing himself before turning to father leclerc,

"heresy is condemned here. it is imperative to find the man that is behind all this and have him burned at the stake for such insolence. i shall have a word with the archdeacon very soon, father leclerc. as of now, the archdeacon wished for me to tell you that a local hospital is in need of some divine intervention. the archdeacon wants you to go see if you can save the poor souls before he passes away." father bozzi took a step backwards, bowing his head before departing to his cell.

as per archdeacon vasseur's command, charles took his small, worn-out copy of his bible which was a testament to how devoted he was to the catholic church and his rosary, his fingers toying with the beads as he departed down the large staircase out of the cathedral. his foot kicked up the crumpled paper from earlier, and he scowled as his foot stomped it further into the dusty ground before walking off as if nothing had transpired. the hospital was quite the distance, and as he continued to walk he decided to utter a few bible verses to relax his mind. father bozzi was right, he had to control his mind and thereby his tongue. he could not let his emotions flood him, nor could he illicit such hurtful remarks to those that upset him. he had to keep himself in check, and he prayed that the holy father would guide him through the dark, treacherous path of the mortal world. as he turned the corner, he noticed a small, run-down stall of necessities and in front, leaning against the edge was you with your head thrown back, eyes closed as you basked in the sunlight. charles gazed at you in confusion, unsure as to why you were not behind the stall when a large crowd of men pushed past him to gather around your enchanting frame.

"well, well, well... frederick, i expect the usual?" you cooed, running a hand through your hair before letting it glide down your neck to rest on your scantily covered bosom. the man, frederick, let out a hearty laugh, moving to stand besides you as he picked up a pint of milk, tossing you some coins before gulping the liquid down. he let some of it splash onto the top of your breasts, and you squealed at the sensation, swiping the droplets with your forefinger before gliding it into your mouth for a taste. the men around you sighed, dreamily, at your action and as your eyes traveled around the crowd, it fell onto charles who snarled at the sight of debauchery happening in front of him. this was why he hated stepping out of the cathedral, there was so much sin lurking around. he averted his eyes elsewhere, realizing that he had overstood his time in front of your stall and trudged forward, muttering at how lust destroys humans, how it easily corrupts the innocent. he gave you one more glance, and unknowingly, his eyes drifted down your neck to the fullness of your tits, watching the way they bounced as you jumped, clapping your hands at the sight of some man making a fool out of himself just for your entertainment. his gaze roamed down to the way your ass curved against your skirt, sticking out for any man to grab. his eyes snapped down to see his hand reach out into the open air and he took a step back in horror at his own action. you had to be a witch, tempting him into sin! he growled under his breath, storming off to his duty.

you were waiting for him at your stall when he returned, drumming your fingers against the makeshift wooden table as he passed by you with the same scowl on his lips.

"father leclerc!" you stood up, and then you clapped your hands to grab his attention. sensing that he would not stop, you rolled your eyes and hollered, "charles!" the smirk that was on your face was quickly replaced with fear as he charged towards you, slamming his bible down.

"comment osez-vous !" he shouted, watching you cower onto the wall behind your stall, "how dare you address me by my name, you insolent wench! a god fearing woman such as yourself should know better than to..." his words are silenced at the sight of the slightest sliver of parchment poking from underneath the fabric, the raised hand falling down to his side as his eyes flashed in anger. he bit his tongue, remembering the words of father bozzi, "what have you called me for, young woman?"

"i was wondering if you liked your basket of goods this morning," you forced a smile, darting your tongue out to wet your lips, and charles' anger grew once more, but so did a different feeling. those lips of yours, he craved it. he sighed out loud, wanting to open a verse of the bible to school you when his eyes stopped at your barely-covered breast, the parchment hiding in the corner mocking him. his hand delved onto your tits, roughly groping away as you gasped out loud at the sudden intrusion, feeling his fingers roll against your hardening nipples. he roughly yanked out the stash of parchment, tilting his head up to reform your beliefs when in a second, his head snapped to the side as a burning sensation bloomed onto his left cheek. his eyes peered to the sight of you rubbing your sore knuckles, having backhanded him across his face.

"even a man of your supposed god is not free from sin," you whispered, and just as he was about to smash your head with the milk pints, father gasly had walked over to his friend with a smile that continued to die down with each step that he took.

"what has happened here, ami?" he questioned, staring between charles and you. when receiving no answer, he frowned and draped an arm around his friend, turning him around to head back to the cathedral. you were biting your lip in frustration at the fact that your parchments were seized by charles, and even worse, the sight of his dark glare boring into your soul pressed you to find shelter soon for your own safety. charles was bound to inform the church, and while the idea of burning at the stake was gruesome, you believed that death was not one you should fear, but one you should accept.

however, charles did not inform the other fathers about his discovery. nor did he go to confess his sin of having wrongfully touched a woman. in his mind, if he told the other fathers about his discovery, they would ask how he obtained it. he could never lie in front of them, and if he told them the truth, they would be horrified. and then, if he confessed his sin, father sainz would be considered for chapter priest over him. he could not risk such a move. he had to be quiet, but the turmoil swirling inside him forced him to his knees, hands crossed as the rosary dangled from his fingers. he couldn't shake the image of your round tits, the warmth that he felt on his fingers. to be near a woman, to be even able to touch her. he ran his hands over his face, hoping that your intoxicating scent was still alive on his fingers. he glanced up to the holy cross he had perched on the wall, mouth running dry. he glanced over to the pint of milk he had received from you earlier, placed right next to stash of your written poster of heresy. lost in a daze, he scrambled over to unscrew the milk and he remembered the sight of the man pouring it over your breasts, how you licked a stripe of the liquid from your delicate finger. he was drowning in the thought of you, unable to withstand the temptation of sin. he was cursed with having always letting his emotions get the best of him, but this was not an emotion. it was an obsession. he took a sip of the milk, savoring its taste before pouring it down his head, his tongue - now let loose - lapping at the liquid as it trailed downwards, spilling onto the floor. his face covered in your milk, and he envisioned it as it truly being your milk which only made him yearn for you more. he grabbed the stash of parchments, unfolding and placing them onto his face as if they were napkins, the paper soaking up the milk droplets. the warmth of your skin was still imprinted onto the paper, he could smell you off of them. he groaned out loud, wishing his hands were not bound from the constraints of his duty as a servant of god, to be able to bury his face in those tits of yours to sing praises of you out loud. another needy moan escaped his lips, and he pulled the papers off him to see your heretic cries, your hurdled insults. each page a different set of twisted words targeting his church, his people, his beliefs. the bitch had tricked him, she had ruined his once pure mind. he crawled over to the wall frantically, glancing up to see the cross once more as he begged for forgiveness.

he begged, and begged, and continued to beg as tears fell from his eyes, his cheeks all rosy from the woeful tunes he sang. you had destroyed him, changed him. he was meant to be chapter priest in a month, and would soon lead an enviable life. no, no, no, how could you do this to him? you, of all people, a heretic! he sobbed once more, clutching the rosary to his chest as he asked the holy father to pardon him.

"forgive me! punish me but please forgive me!" he cried out, arms outstretched into the air as he kneeled in front of the wall. his chest heaved with each sob that bellowed from his gut. he believed his prayers to fall onto deaf ears, and for penance, he decided to starve himself. no eggs, no bread, no cheese and definitely no milk. he would switch to eating soup even worse to punish himself. perhaps if he did so, he would be forgiven, he would be seen as the ideal role model that he always was. the golden child, the one that was meant to carry the legacy of archdeacon vasseur, to restore glory to the catholic church. most importantly, he would be the one to make sure you pay for tempting to him to sin.

the well-awaited carnival took place in the center of town, a spectacle to behold. the dancers, the food, the jesters, the royal family making an appearance because they loved to take part in the lives of their people. the chaplains had returned to their cells after prayer, their ears stirring at the music that floated through the halls of the cathedral. charles was sipping his bowl of soup, its contents pitiful, when he received word from father gasly that he was to go outside and convince the people to attend mass tomorrow and in order to do so, they must put an end to the carnival. charles grimaced, despising the thought of having to step out of the cathedral once more. he loved to stay inside, loved to sit in his cell and recite the verses that he memorized with such love and adoration. the thought of having to step foot into a place of sin, the thought of you possible being there. it disgusted him.

yet, duties had to be done and he once again found himself with his bible and rosary in hand, watching the village folk run around, laughing with rum in their hands. he snarled, electing to sit beside the king who had beckoned him over with a welcoming hand. you'll enjoy the festivities, you'll feel welcome, the villagers always love to celebrate every good event, the king rambled and charles tuned him out, still holding to his belief that this place was an extension of hell. he was just about ready to excuse himself when he saw you sauntering up to the center of the stage, an outfit that made him part his lips with a dazed expression. your shirt hung loose off your shoulders, the corset tightening your waist which pushed your tits upward as you grabbed hold of your skirt and began to dance, seductively. some of the men from below the stage hopped on to join you, twirling you around while skipping to and fro. your eyes were fixated on charles, calling to him like the siren that you were. he averted his eyes, his grip tightening around his rosary as he saw you approaching the royal family. you curtsied, bowing your head and offered a rose to the princess who beamed in joy at such a simple act. their joy was short-lived when they saw you stalk over to charles, curtsying enough for him to glance at your cleavage, before standing up abruptly. a tease, a temptation, a witch. quite suddenly, you grabbed onto his rosary and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him close to your face as your lips brushed against his nose.

"your tricks won't work on me, satan," charles whispered, breathlessly. his words spoke one story, while his eyes told another. you smirked at his reaction, shaking your head,

"and yet you fall every single time, father, strange isn't it?"

when you pulled away, you let his rosary hit the ground as you went back to dancing. the king laughed out loud, commenting that this must be the chaplain's first interaction with a woman in his entire life but charles wasn't focused on that. he was focused on his cracked rosary, now shaped like a jagged knife. if he had it his way, he would bend you over in front of everyone and show the entire village how much of a whore you were. you would be screaming for mercy, begging him to let you go, and all he would do is laugh. heretics never deserved mercy. they didn't believe in the holy father that would grant them such mercy, so why should he? charles' jaw clenched at the thought, and he stood up and departed the carnival with lust clouding his thoughts.

it was late at night, the chaplains were back in their cells fast asleep before sunday mass. yet, charles was out searching through the streets for something... else. he couldn't hold his desires anymore, he couldn't control his thoughts. your power over him, it was revolting! and the only way to relieve his struggles, was to let it out on some prostitute that would throw herself at him. he remembered when he had been very young how father vettel - who was later kicked out of the cathedral - had been secretly seeing woman for his own pleasure. charles had seen a woman on her knees in the confession booth, her lips wrapped around father vettel's member as he groaned out loud, hips snapping to meet her lips. charles remembered witnessing the sinful exchange and being tempted to try it out on his own. it took weeks of penance to cleanse his mind after, but he feared that in his present day, it was impossible now. nothing could make him forget you. he stopped in front of a small hut, a dull candle shining through the broken window as he pushed the door open to see a prostitute fast asleep on her bed. he shut the door behind him, bringing the cloak down before towering over her sleeping form.

she deserved no kindness, her job itself was that of impurity. he set his cloak on her small table, beginning to undress. the shifting of clothes and jewelry caused her to stir in her sleep and when she opened her eyes groggily, a hand clasped around her mouth as the bed dipped at the additional weight of charles climbing in.

"not a word from you. i shall pay you a handsome sum if you do your job," he hissed, yanking her top down to expose her breasts. his hands came forward to softly knead the flesh, her gasps spurring him on as he began to squeeze, pinching her nipples harshly as she let out a cry in pain.

"father l-lec-"

"no!" he slapped her across her face, remembering when you had done the same to him. it boiled his blood that you would dare raise your hand at him, and he sucked his teeth, "you call me charles. i want to hear you say charles."

she whimpered, nodding her head as he lowered his face onto her tits, burying his face between them as he groaned out loud. they were so soft, so warm and beautiful and he ran his tongue over her hardened peaks, flicking them around before beginning to suck. she moaned, quietly, arching into him further as he wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer. whoever this whore was, she was going limp in his arms as he continued to maul at her tits, marking her. his lips trailed up to her neck, biting on her skin harshly as he pulled away to stare at her, "i'll need your help. i'm quite inexperienced in... such... acts of intimacy, but i need it to relieve my anger."

"i can gladly help you father..." she paused, noticing the way his eyes narrowed at her and she gulped, before responding "charles." she let her finger trail down the side of his face, but he caught hold of her hand and scoffed,

"don't... touch me, she wouldn't be able to anyway," he ignored the way the woman frowned at his words, not following along but as long as she paid him, she was happy to fulfill whatever he asked for.

it was hours later when charles exited the hut, glancing through the window to see the woman completely passed out on the bed, not an ounce of fabric covering her form. he smirked to himself, bringing the hood of his cloak closer to mask his identity. he was walking down the street when he saw you, standing there with a disgusted expression on your face.

"for a man of god, you commit every sin in the world and yet you are pardoned. how would the church feel knowing what you have done? with a prostitute?" you questioned, which only darkened his eyes as he walked over to where you stood.

"prostitutes are necessary evils, they help control a common man's lust," he replied.

"common man? or every man? you clearly couldn't control your lust. did you see her at mass? is there an affair taking place?" you snapped, circling around him and he laughed, a dark rich laugh as he took off his hood to stare directly into your eyes.

"you witch, you would know. if i had never seen you, my path would've stayed the same. but you... you!" he thrust his finger into your face, before wrapping his hand around your throat, "you disgusting whore, you've ruined me. you've destroyed everything i spent years working on! that prostitute was only meant to substitute you!"

he let his hand trail down to your arm, placing it behind you as he spun you around so that your back touched his chest. he inhaled the scent of your hair, murmuring praises as his lips danced down your neck. he stretched your shirt to expose your shoulder, the very one he saw in carnival earlier in the day and sunk his teeth, clamping your mouth shut to silence your screams. it was music to his ears. wriggling out of his grasps, you grabbed the rosary from his pockets and swung it at him. he groaned in pain, feeling a gash on his forehead as blood trickled down. when his eyes snapped upwards, he saw your form running away from him and he clutched onto the fallen rosary, seething in rage that you managed to escape him once again. mass would start in a couple hours, and he would pray to the holy father to let him have you, let him punish you for your wrongdoings and teach you how to behave.

charles was always gifted with music. it was one of his defining skills, and he was allowed to play the grand organ during mass. he finished his last drop of soup, shuddering at the foul taste that he created to punish himself and sank down on the cushioned stool, cracking his knuckles. he glanced down at his fingers, remembering the way they were knuckle-deep in the prostitute's cunt, the squelching of her juices as he kept thrusting them into her, his other hand rubbing her clit as she whimpered, telling him it was too much. he remembered slapping her, telling her to hold her tongue as he continued to work her to her climax. he curled his fingers inside her, watching her legs shake as they involuntarily spread further. he twisted his fingers inside her, her clit puffy from the way his thumb massaged it with fervor. her juices splattered onto him, and the wave of realization washed over him as his fingers delicately brushed against the keys. the buttons of music. he pushed them around, his eyes drifting to the ceiling of the cathedral as he played the first few chords he was accustomed to. the calling from god, the spirit that let his gospel be spread for the underprivileged that saw him as their savior. archdeacon vasseur was below near the main altar, welcoming in the devout christians that were attending mass. the organs above, the gold decorations shining in the light. they were curved, mesmerizing. they were you. he swore he saw you in the reflection of the organ, laughing and mocking him. berating, ridiculing, insulting, spitting at him. he felt an invisible force press down on the gash on his forehead, and he hissed as he stiffened, feeling the light above call out to him but the dark temptation pulling him back down.

unaware that the sermon had commenced below, charles smashed his fingers onto the organ, letting his emotions run wild as the chords become darker, more desperate. it was the call of a siren, the lustful whines of the devil that would not let him go. it wasn't his fault, it was never his fault! how could he resist you? the wench who had powers far greater than that of any man, it was hard! he was still young, still had much to learn and he screamed out loud as he felt his heart being torn to pieces, fingers still playing the ominous tune on the grand organ. it wasn't until father sainz and father gasly physically lifted and dragged charles away did his vision begin to clear, and he realized his mistake. no, he'd let archdeacon vasseur down. he made a fool of himself in front of everyone, he'd use his talent to procure something so evil! his despair was heightened when he was placed back in his cell to reflect and seek god to save his troubled soul as he sobbed in his bed, feeling like a disappointment. his tears cascaded down his cheeks, eyes searching for the holy father to lift him to heaven! he could not spend another second in this mortal world, as long as you lived. the parchment paper stash was on his desk, and he scowled at the sight of it, ripping it to shreds before exiting his cell and taking it to the fireplace just outside in the hallway. he tossed the pieces of paper inside, watching the way the small embers of the fire flickered and danced around, its orange tint glowing against the darkness surrounding it. The flame grew, spreading across the small piece of paper, the edges turning from a stark white to a dull charcoal. The visual haunted him, the flames reminding him of your hair, of your burning eyes, that desire that is eating him from inside. he needed you, he needed to have you in his arms. the smoke that emitted from the burnt papers swept over to him and he extended his arms, swiping at them to see if he could hold onto to it. when met with the air of his sins, he stared at the fire with tears in his eyes.

"elle sera à moi" he whispered underneath his breath, dousing the flames with the pot of water beside the fireplace.

the marketplace was rather quiet the very next morning. the men who would come in to have a chat with you found your stall empty, as if you had just left the entire town on short notice. the truth was, these men weren't lusting after you or trying to get a new deal. they were all part of your secret organization to preach athiesm. it was only a few of them anyway, and the trick with frederick a few days ago was part of your plan to gain the attention of a chaplain, any chaplain really, so that they could see god could not control every individual, their mind will wander and it's up to them to help each other to be better, not an invisible force. none of them would have predicted that the chaplain they strung the net for happened to be the worst one in the church. your presence missing sent fear in them, wondering if they would be hunted after by the catholic church for participating in these illegal activities. your friends assumed you to be dead, so did your poor, old parents and any of the bell ringers who brought their groceries from you.

"you should be grateful, mon diablesse," charles' words echoed through the empty corridor, his footsteps approaching your frame, "i could've easily turned you in, had you burned at the stake, stoned to death, flogged beyond recognition."

"death would be liberating," you spat at his face, the glob of saliva hitting the cut on his forehead and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, snarling at you, "you think you're so smart, so witty..." he paused, crouching down to face you directly, "so beautiful..." his knuckles brushed against your cheek tenderly, watching the way you recoiled under his touch, pulling your head far back as you could under the confines of rope that bound you to the corner. he had set fire to your house the night before, and when you fled out you had fallen right into his arms. your anguished screams infiltrated the cold, dead night and he grabbed a cane laying on the road to pummel against the back of your head. your body slipped into unconsciousness, and he carried you in his arms through the back of his cathedral. each step that he took up the staircase, his eyes watched your limp form, your tits brushing against his cloak, your hands hanging with your head thrown back, eyes closed as if you were in bliss. at the top of the staircase, he could see the holy cross from the opposite end of the cathedral, the light dimming, almost leaving him. he frowned, turning back to face you in his arms, "the devil is here, she shall be here until the holy father guides her to a righteous path, and then she shall be mine..."

his lips peppered kisses along your face, hovering over your lips before he let them envelop around yours. the softness of your lips, the way they warmed them. he could not resist the temptation any longer, he needed find a way to merge into you, to live inside you and have all this to himself. no one would ever touch you, speak to you or even look at you. you were his, all his.

your bounds were humiliating, having wrapped around your arms and legs and specifically around your tits to plump them up. they hurt at times, especially when charles would tug on the confines before slapping your tits, watching the way they were swollen and slightly purple from the lack of circulation. your arms were bound above your head, legs anchored to some weights that charles had found in father sainz's cell the other day. you would not escape him, you would not escape your destiny to understand the glory of god. this was your punishment for heresy, charles would see to it that he taught you everything, that you would understand why he was doing this. because he cared for you! he hadn't done anything to hurt you, yet. he was just fascinated, treating you like a child as he would spend hours every day reading the bible to you and explaining god's love for all beings, and strangely enough day by day, it almost felt as if the god he was referring to was him. your eyes should be on him, hands in prayer for him. not god, no charles should be your god. his desire for you was so strong, he selfishly assumed that even god shouldn't be able to cherish his finest creation: you. yes, you were broken and needed guidance, but perhaps thats why god created you! he wanted to spend extra time with you, and charles hated the thought of you with anyone other than him.

he had a flog in his hands, and every time your eyes would droop or you'd turn your head away, he'd instantly flog your tits harshly and grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him. not a fleck of dust deserved your attention. you'd whimper, feeling pain course through your blood as you tried not to cry. you knew you were stronger than this, that you could hold it out and find a way to escape. even if you wanted to grab the attention of the bell ringers, they'd know you as the girl who died. if you came back, they'd accuse you of being a witch and your death would be imminent. charles planned this all out, and you could tell with the way he looked at you that he never wanted you to ever leave him. on days when you would listen obediently, even asking questions for further explanations, he would reward you by loosening the bounds just a bit to let you breath better and he suck on your tits, rolling your nipples around as he watched you whine against his lips, growing needier as the days passed. you were becoming more reliant on him, the fraction of pleasure you would feel consuming your thoughts. you would recite verses and summarize what you learned just for him to reward you, to let you relax your sore limbs and the praise he gave you would go straight to your core.

"mon ange, you are doing so good," he cooed, kissing your cheek as his thumb ran along your bottom lip.

"chérie, look at you, all beautiful and basking in the light as the lord's prettiest creation," he stuck his finger into your mouth, watching you obediently begin sucking just like he had taught you the other day, eyes all wide and eager to worship him. he had you right where he wanted, devout to him so he could bless you with whatever you wanted. but, he should've known that your stubbornness was far greater than his love for god. in fact, it helped you clear your mind one day when you realized that you were acting like a cheap whore for him. you were better than this, stronger than this! you needed to escape, your mind was being twisted by him. after a very frustrating day where he was lectured by archdeacon vasseur about controlling his anger, he stormed to the hidden room to find you to help control his emotions. only to find you out of the confines with a stone rock that you had sharpened secretly, trying to climb through the window.

"espèce de fille insolente!" charles roared, yanking you by your hair as he tossed you to the stone floor. you groaned loudly in pain, your body still sore from having spent days bound like a present for him. he flipped you to your back, a hand on your throat as he brought you up, "how foolish i am to have thought that you were learning, that you were behaving well for me!"

"sometimes the lust clouds one's mind and some can escape, others such as yourself rot in it and becomes the very monster they sought to kill!" you hissed, and he tightened his grasp, watching you squirm, gasping for air. he lets go of you, letting your head hit the floor as he stands up and begins to undress.

"i was trying to be nice, so nice to you. i thought the devil had left you, it seems she is back and more dangerous than ever!" he tossed his belongings behind him and grabbed hold of the rope, pulling your hands to him as he began to wrap it around. he ignored your pleas, your whines at how your wrists were sore, how you would rather die than have to deal with this again and he slapped you across the face, silencing you instantly, "i should've done this the day i met you."

he fished through his discarded cloak for the broken rosary, letting it sway in front of your eyes. you gulped when you saw the jagged, sharp end. He let the broken rosary trail down from your lips to right between your breasts, and he licked his lips. slowly, he began to etch a cross into your soft, tender flesh. each line was precise, each stroke deliberate. he ignored the way tears fell from your eyes, trying your best not to scream in pain as his eyes watched the blood seep from your skin. as he carved, he leaned down and began to lap at the small beads of blood that welled up in the wake of the knife. his eyes never left yours, boring into your soul with deranged intensity. his tongue drifted down to your cunt, and he spit onto it, letting his tongue flatten on your clit before he began to move. thank god for that prostitute one night, she taught him so much. he bit down on your folds, flicking your clit around. his tongue delved into your inner walls, watching you arch your back as you cried louder, trying to push him off you but he quickly grabbed hold of your wrists, preventing you from leaving as he drank your delicious juice. he tilted his head upwards, your arousal glistening against his chin,

"if you want my forgiveness, recite to me one... at least one thing i taught you." he whispered, and you bucked your hips upwards,

"never. you are the very spawn of satan!" you hissed, which earned you a harsh slap on your clit, causing you to whine out loud. he bit the inside of his cheek, furiously rubbing your sensitive nub, your song of lust echoing through the cathedral as you cummed for the first time of the day. his thumb did not stop, instead he kept going faster while adding two fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them inside as you squealed at the oversensitivity.

"say one... say one verse," he spat, "one verse, putain."

"n-no!" you moaned, still feeling the burn of your skin from where he carved the cross on you. you would not give in, you would not let him take control of you again like he did last time. you knew better than this, you were one of the smartest women in the town before this monster took you. his fingers were relentless, scissoring into your cunt as you screamed, lost in the fog of your mind as you kept cumming and cumming around his fingers.

"say that im your god, say that you will only ever worship me, i am your savior, your idol, say it!" charles pulled his fingers away right when you were on the brink of another orgasm, and you let out a guttural scream, sobbing as your hips began to grind the air, searching for your lost release. you couldn't anymore, you couldn't hold back.

"y-you're my god... my savior... my idol," you whispered between whimpers, and a satisfied chuckle escaped his lips. he nodded his head before folding you into a mating press. your sore body was complying with his requests, your mind pounding as he hoisted your legs up to rest against his shoulders. his eyes hungrily soaked up the sight of the bleeding cross on the valley of your tits, and he rolled your nipples around, knowing how sensitive you were. this was the day he was waiting for, this was the day where he could finally claim you as his. he gave the shaft his throbbing cock a couple pumps, before sliding into you with a small moan escaping his lips.

"putain, tu te sens si bien," he whispered, rocking his hips against yours as you mewled out loud. he laughed at the sight of you, disheveled and worn out. even the devil could not be perfect at all times. he felt powerful, having tamed the devil and being the one whose cock was splitting you open. his thrusts became faster, your sobs becoming louder as he took what he believed to be rightfully his. he groped your tits, remembering his fascination with them when he first met you and leaned closed to latch his lips onto them again. the lewd sounds made you snap your head to the side, surprisingly feeling yourself growing wetter at the squelching of his cock inside your dripping pussy. "mon ange, the only way you will ever learn, the only way you will be mine forever is if you embrace what the holy father planned for your kind. bearing children and fearing him."

your glossy eyes flickered to him, a hint of fear at his words and he began to thrust harshly into you, your tits swaying as he began to pick up his pace once more, "a child will put you in your place. you will learn then. your tits will be swollen with milk, oh the thought of it...."

he leaned forward to bite down on your nipples, before sucking them and releasing them with a pop! "your belly will carry my child, and they will follow the virtuous path offered to them, not the words of a heretic who spreads her legs for a lustful man, no this is the union between two devotees in love with the creation of god." he pulled away to kiss your feet, running his tongue over your ankle as you moaned out loud, begging him to go deeper. you could feel your orgasm approaching, your mind telling you that this was wrong but you couldn't resist anymore. he let one of your wrap around his waist, letting his cock dig into your further. his finger brushed against the carved cross, applying pressure at some corners and the pain mingled with the pleasure, finally pushing you past the edge. your screams flooded the empty corridor as you squirted your release all over his relentless cock. he continued to thrust into you, letting your ride your waves of pleasure and with a soft whimper, his cock shot ropes of his cum in your walls. he continued to fuck you, hands on your hips as he wanted nothing to go to waste. when he pulled out, he stuffed his fingers into you, ignoring your wail at how sensitive you were. he was panting, making sure nothing leaked out of you. you would bear his child, you would denounce your heretic practices, you would stay with him forever and love god. you will worship him, and him alone.

the corridor is locked when he leaves, your body placed near a small fire-place as you slept. he draped you in his cloak for warmth, kissing your cheek lovingly before whispering how beautiful you would be as the mother to his children. when he returned downstairs, he was stopped by father bozzi and archdeacon vasseur who smiled at him, proudly.

"father leclerc, your virtuous path has inspired so many, we are seeing new people attend mass! it could not have been done with you," father bozzi grinned. both pair of eyes gazed at the archdeacon who clasped his hand on charles' shoulder,

"father leclerc, tomorrow is your ceremony to become chapter priest. and you will also receive the monsignor title!" archdeacon vassuer announced, and charles smiled, thanking for the honor.

charles stood in front of the altar, staring at the holy cross. he clasped his hands in prayer, smiling as he closed his eyes. he was being rewarded by the holy father for his good penance. he would stop eating soup, and eat good food again. he was being rewarded for his successful missionaries, for having converted previous non-believers into believers.

and most importantly, for having tamed the tempting devil.

[harrysfolklore]

Hi!!! i just saw the pictures of Carlos x 2 content for his last driver w ferrari and since there’s already a lot on piastri sis bonding with reyes, can we have piastri sis bonding with Carlos sr too

🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i really wanted to take on this request! i love my little bitches so much 🥹

The early morning Maranello sun caught the Ferrari badges as you walked hand-in-hand with Carlos toward the garage. His grip was slightly tighter than usual, betraying the emotion he was trying to contain.

"Ready?" you squeezed his hand.

"No," he admitted quietly. "But yes."

Carlos Sr. was already there, talking with the mechanics, but his face lit up when he saw you both. "Mis hijos!" [my kids]

Charles was there too, leaning against the garage wall in his puffer jacket. He straightened when he saw Carlos, and there was a moment of shared understanding between the teammates - soon to be former teammates.

"Don't make it weird, Leclerc," Carlos tried to joke.

"Me? Never," but Charles's voice was suspiciously rough as he pulled Carlos into a hug. "Save the tears for later, no?”

"Who's crying? I'm not crying."

"Of course not," you rolled your eyes fondly.

While Charles dragged Carlos off to inspect the cars, Carlos Sr. pulled you aside.

"How is he really?"

You watched Carlos run his hands over the Ferrari's nose cone, Charles pointing out something that made them both laugh.

"Emotional. Trying not to show it."

"Like his father," Carlos Sr. smiled sadly.

"Exactly like his father."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You know, when he first told me about you, I knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you would understand us. The Sainz men - we feel everything so deeply, even when we pretend we don't."

"I noticed," you smiled. "The dramatic genes run strong."

"Hey!" but he was laughing. "We're not dramatic!"

"Carlos cried over a pizza last week."

"It was an emotional pizza!"

"See? Dramatic."

His expression softened. "You're good for him. For all of us. You understand this life, this passion."

"It's my life too."

"Si, it is. And..." he hesitated. "I want you to know, whatever comes next, whatever team, whatever challenges - you're our family. Mine and Reyes's daughter, not just Carlos' girlfriend."

Your throat tightened. "I- "

"No crying!" he warned, but pulled you closer. "We save tears for after, yes?"

"Charles said the same thing."

"Charles is smart boy. Sometimes."

Across the garage, Carlos and Charles were now arguing about something, gesturing wildly at the car while mechanics pretended not to laugh.

"Should we save them?" you asked.

"Let them have this moment," Carlos Sr. squeezed your shoulder. "Soon enough..."

You both watched as Carlos ran his hand along the Ferrari's sidepod, the gesture almost reverent.

"He'll be okay," you assured Carlos Sr.

"Of course he will. He has you."

"He has all of us."

"Si," Carlos Sr. nodded. "Always family first."

Charles's voice carried across the garage: "Carlos, stop being dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic!"

"You're stroking the car!"

"It's a goodbye caress!"

"See?" Carlos Sr. grinned. "Not dramatic at all."

You laughed, leaning into his embrace. "Not even a little bit."

Later, the garage had emptied, leaving just the two of you. Carlos was still in his race suit, pushed down to his waist, his Ferrari shirt underneath damp with emotion and exertion. He stood there, hand resting on the car's nose, lost in thought.

"Hey, little bitch," you said softly, coming up behind him.

He laughed wetly, not turning around. "Only you could make that sound loving."

"It's a gift."

When he finally faced you, his eyes were red but his smile was real. You reached up to wipe a smudge of tear track from his cheek.

"Last dance in red," you murmured.

"Was it good?"

"Perfect. You and your dad... that was something special."

He pulled you close, burying his face in your neck. You could feel him trembling slightly, letting go of the composure he'd held all day.

"I've got you," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "Let it out, baby.”

"I thought I was ready," his voice was muffled against your skin.

"You were. You are. Doesn't make it easier."

He lifted his head to look at you, and your heart ached at the naked emotion in his eyes. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably cry a lot more dramatically."

"I'm not dramatic!"

"Says the man who spent ten minutes saying goodbye to each tire."

"They needed proper farewells!"

You kissed him softly, feeling him melt into you. "My dramatic little bitch.”

"Your dramatic little bitch," he agreed against your lips. He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "God, I love you."

"I know."

"Even when you're mean to me."

"Especially then."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, pouring everything he couldn't say into it.

"Ready to go home?" you asked when you finally parted.

"One more minute," he turned to look at the car one last time, keeping you tucked against his side.

"Take all the time you need."

He pressed a kiss to your temple. "As long as you're here."

[auggieblogs]

Delicious | MV1

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, fingering (f receiving) This content is not suitable for all audiences. MDNI

Author’s note: Soooo���my second time writing smut and I think I’m getting a hang of it. Still not completely satisfied with the writing, think I’ll keep trying. That being said, I hope all of you are doing good and happy reading, my loves💗

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

Max must have sensed your apprehension because he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice comforting.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," you admitted, your fingers twisting in the sheets beneath you.

"Hey," he murmured, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just tell me what you're comfortable with, and we'll go from there."

His reassurance eased some of your anxiety, and you nodded, taking a deep breath. "I want this, Max. I trust you."

With that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency. As his hand slid up your side, you felt the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of your shirt. He tugged it up, and you lifted your arms to help him remove it, leaving you in just your bra. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, and he leaned down to press kisses along your collarbone, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.

His kisses trailed lower, and you gasped as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. "Max," you breathed, arching into him.

"I've got you," he murmured against your skin, his hand sliding down your body to rest on the waistband of your pants. "Can I?"

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He unbuttoned your pants and slowly slid them down, taking your underwear with them. You tensed for a moment, your nerves getting the better of you.

"Just relax," he murmured, his lips grazing your earlobe. His fingers slid beneath the fabric, finding your folds and gently exploring the slickness there. "You're so wet already."

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed, "Max..."

He kissed your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "It's a good thing, love. It means you're ready."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to relax as he slowly inserted one finger inside you. It felt strange, an unfamiliar stretch that was almost uncomfortable.

Too much?" he asked, his voice low and filled with concern.

“A little,” you admitted, biting your lip.

He kissed your nose. "That's alright," he said softly. "We'll take it slow."

He kept his movements gentle, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of his finger inside you. Gradually, the discomfort faded, replaced by a sense of pleasure as he began to move, curling his finger slightly with each thrust.

He added a second finger, stretching you, filling you, and you couldn’t help the needy sounds that spilt from your lips. The room was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you.

Max curled his two fingers upwards, looking for the one spot that would finally send you over the edge and then he hit it. An almost pornographic scream escaped your lips, vision blurry with tears.

"Found it," he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips. He dives his fingers deeper and deeper into you, curling them, pressing his thumb against your clit and it's enough to make your eyes roll, whilst your head hits back the pillow.

“Max, I’m—” you tried to warn him, but he knew. He could feel it in the way your walls clenched around his fingers.

Max's mouth captured yours in a heated kiss, his fingers never faltering. "Come for me, baby".

With one final, perfect stroke, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you. You cried out Max's name, your body shaking. Max didn’t stop until you were completely spent, your body going limp beneath him.

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his eyes locked on yours as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean.

"Delicious," he said with a grin, licking his fingers clean.

"Wow, slut," you joked breathlessly, a giggle escaping your lips.

Max chuckled, leaning in to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "Only for you," he murmured against your mouth.

[cypherscript]

Perpeptual

Some of Young justice are teleported/isekai'd during one of their battles to an underdeveloped world barely out of the iron age.

The planet confuses them, perpeptual night but the climate is warm and the flora abundant regardless of the missing sunlight. It has a single yellowy green moon that is stuck in orbit at the same point in the sky as the stars move around it.

Some of the locals have accepted them into their small village, their language is close to spanish; esperanto Wally says. Atleast they can somewhat communicate now. The people are unsettingly human with only slight changes to their body; lighter skin, pointed ears and glowing eyes.

They spend a little over two weeks helping the locals with their building some kind of stage for a festival. A large corridor of metal, spires of green crystal that Connor says make him woozy on top of his already low solar energy from the weeks stranded here and thick braided cord wound around the bases of the spires and inlayed into an intricate pattern winding their way to the corridor of metal.

The chief, Degelinta Stellumo, is happy to say the festival can begin early. When asked about the festival they cant translate much other than it's to thank their god for keeping them safe. About how thousands of years ago the day god Rox tried to consume their world, the night god Phan covered their world in protective night to protect it from Rox's anger.

The team is perplexed as the festivities begin, rhythmic chanting fills the air as one of their young men, that Megan recognizes as Stelo, walks forward dressed in furs and a iron crown upong their head. He steps into the corridor, the crystals glow brightening as he does so, almost alive in the perpeptual moonlight and the chanting getting faster and faster. Duh-duh-duh-duh-da-duh-duh-da-duh-da~.

There is a massive flare of light coming from the corridor, the crystals shatter and fly everywhere and the people cheer. Stelo steps, no floats from the now blackened corridor changed; his body glows in a pale white light, hair once black now pure white while his eyes are toxic green from his previously white and a cloak of stars floats behind him in an invisible wind.

He looks around confused, tired, until his eyes settle on the young superheroes going from Connor's house of El crest to Miss Martians skin to Robins stylized R.

Everyone is shocked as the being speaks to them in echoy but clear english, "You lot are a long ways from home, arent you?"

"Uhm, yes... sir," Tim hesitantly asks hesitantly unsure how to address this being? God? Entity?

"Right, well not to belittle your situation but we're holding up the festivities I'm certain the Sheo'lp people have been working on for some time. Let us celebrate a bit then we can talk about your situation."

"What are you," Megan blurts out, confused, "Stelo stepped into that corridor and his mind is gone and now theres just static."

"I suppose i can answer that easily enough. My name was/is Danny and I dont know what I am anymore. Once the festival ends, Stelo will return to himself. I promise."

The now named Danny stops floating and walks over to the tribespeople, stopping to hug and greet everyone by name and accepting food and drink happily. He cries as he eats the food and drink, thanking the people in esperanto repeatedly as he does so, this goes on for several hours before the partying starts to die down and Danny takes the group over to a dying bonfire.

"Right, I suppose you have questions but I would like some verification."

"Verification?"

"Yup, just need to know if you are who I think you are. It's been forever since I've been around earth but you look familiar.

He points at Miss Martian, "M'gann M'orzz?"

Pointing to kid flash, "Bart? No... Wally West."

Points to Robin, "Damian Wayne."

Points to Superboy, "and that would make you Jon Kent."

They partially confused, partial perturbed that this entity knows some of their names. Tim looks him square in the eyes, studying him, thinking about protocols for what to do when a godlike entity just namedrops your baby brother like its no big deal.

"Its just Robin as I am," Tim says, eyes never leaving Danny's.

"Shit right, apologies I forgot about superhero 101, no names. Its been a while since I had to worry about names, time is blurry these days to me. Now! What about those questions?"

"Can you get us home," Tim asks straight forwardedly. "We've been missing from earth for a few weeks now."

"Sure," he says nonchalantly, surprising the team, "Well yes and no. *I* can get you home but I know something who can but you need to Promise me that you'll follow my directions once you go home. Deal?" He holds out his hand to Tim, who looks at it before shaking it.

"So long as it doesnt endanger those i care about then Deal."

Danny nods before taking a deep breath and holding out a hand, a small crack running through the seam of reality as green light fills the area, from the crack a scroll flies through at high speeds as he catches it. "Hello old friend," he says tiredly, seeming to have dimmed greatly from that stunt.

"A scroll," Connor asks incredulously.

"A map," Danny corrects, "of everything. Take hold of each other before taking the Map, once you do take the map and say where you want to go." He looks at connor briefly, "it wont be a pleasant trip for Jon but it is nessesary for you to get home. Hopefully this trip should innoculate your biology against ecton radiation."

"Wait radiation," wally yelps.

"Its harmless to humans, mostly. Its the fastest way to get back to Earth, youre on the other side of the universe kids. Now, once you're back on earth tell the Map to return home and let go. So take the map, i need to go speak to the chief for a bit. Thank you for being here and letting me help." Danny groans as he slowly gets up and walks over to the chief's tent.

"Do you think he's okay," Megan asks the group as Tim looks the rolled up map over.

Connor watches as Danny leaves, "He's low on energy. Like how Kryptonians are without yellow sunlight."

"Unfortunately we cant focus that right now, grab hands its time to go." They each take the others hand as Tim holds up the map, "take us to the Justice Leagues Watchtower on Earth." The map unfurls as a blue energy grows over the group as they begin floating and the scroll begins to drag them across the sky, a similar crack as before opens before them and swallows them up and the next couple of seconds are filled with blurred visions of vast green voids, purple doors and massive beasts lurking in the distance, the eyes following the team as the fly past.

As quickly as it began its over as a final crack tosses them out at a fast speed into the Justice Leagues cafeteria, scattering on impact and flinging food everywhere as the security systems begin to screech as the team sigh in relief.

"We're home..."

***

"So you mean to tell us you've been trapped on another planet for all this time," Barry asks as the members of young justice sit at the conference table with the other adult members of the justice league.

"Yes sir."

Batman is pensive as hes thinking, "and this entity called you by your names?"

"Mostly, he thought Kon el and I were our younger counterparts."

"Hnn."

Kid Flash leans over to Megan and whispers, "that's bat for I dont like this." Barry cuffs him over the head.

"So should I return the map to Danny?"

"Did someone say my name," a chipper young voice says as he sticks his head through the table, familiar glowing green eyes and white hair who freezes at the sight of the map, "how do you have that? B What's going on?"

"The young justice team has been stranded on a distant planet for several weeks, they just got back with the help of this artifact. Do you recognise it?"

"Course I do, don't know how you have it because its supposed to be with FB in the zone."

"Wait a second," megan exclaims, suddenly recognizing the static she was getting from him "You're Danny! What happened to Stelo?"

"Who?" That takes the wind out of her sails, "oh... i get whats going on here. Classic time travel, don't tell me anything. If you have the map then FB or I gave it to you for a reason. You should send it back."

"Do as he says Robin," Batman says nodding in understanding.

Tim takes the map in his hand, "go back home, uh... map?" He drops it as it unfurls and zooms off through another green crack. "What's all this about?"

"Dunno," Danny says as he leans back as he floats through the table, "hasn't happened yet."

______________________________________________

Authors note:

Little more detail on what happened between the gods in the Sheo'lp's tale. Their sun was going supernova and Phantom in a last ditch effort to save the planet wrapped his being around the planet as the sun exploded around them. His ice core cooling the suns now explosive heat, his body giving them stars to look at and his core to give them light. Their planet is essentially a terrarium surrounded by a critical nuclear reactor. Due to time dialation from earth to there hes been holding back the sun for over a thousands of years by the point YJ arrive.

The festival is a recreation of the fenton portal that they offer one of their own for Phantom to overshadow to partake in their food and drink as thanks. Once he runs out of energy from the crystals his overshadow breaks and he returns to his duty leaving the host with memories to later become the chief and lead their people with their knowledge.

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is the most personally horrifying thing I've ever written

Every week you got closer

Sometimes beating it for hours, breaking it piece by piece, twisting it's neck until it cried put in pain. But never beyond breaking.

Sometimes choking it, hands on it's throat or taping it's mouth and nose shut or pushing it's head under water until the bubbles stopped. But it always woke up after.

Sometimes cutting, long and deep, intentionally hitting bigger veins and arteries so it'd bleed buckets. But it felt your needle in it's skin sewing it together, a straw between it's lips forcing it to drink and replenish it's fluids.

Without fail the moment it could move and talk again it would beg you to finish it off. It would plead with you to finally take it's life. To give it the beautiful brutal end that it craves so badly.

Saying no was the cruelest thing you could ever do to it, or so it thought.

"Is it ready to die today?" You ask casually one morning. It's too well trained to gasp but it drops to it's knees, hands palm up on it's knees, head bowed. It doesn't see you smirk.

You lead it by the hair to the play room, conspicuously coated in plastic, a plastic mattress sits before a metal table covered with tools. Saws, hammers, ice picks, everything you might want to kill someone. You put it, kneeling, on the mattress. You close it's eyes and instruct it to stay.

You prepare it's death

The first injection takes it by surprise, a thick needle into it's spine, it's body goes limp in moments and it slumps to the side.

You adjust it's body, laying on it's back, legs together, arms crossed over it's cheat.

"Mistress?" This breach of protocol although small by many standards speaks volumes about it's mounting panic. It can't feel anything from the neck down.

"This" you hold up a metal syringe "is your death, it's a poison that will kill you, painlessly, over the next hour or two"

It's eyes fly wide

"No, mistress, please no not like this please!"

You inert the syringe into it's upper arm where it can see and slowly press the plungwr

There are tears in it's eyes already

"Please no please mistress, has it not been good enough? Has it not pleased you? Has it broken a rule? I promise mistress it will do anything you say please no" by now it's choking back sobs

Before you close the door on it you then off the lights plunging it into perfect darkness

Over the next two hours it screams, it begs, it cries, it calls for help, it tries to bargain with you for the antidote, it even tries to threaten.

And then it dies

You went out to breakfast two hours before

[authorhjk1]

Teaching their hoebae the “real” side of the industry. They heard rumors of you making your “rounds” through different idols around your age/generation. And decided they want to see what the fuss was all about. “You’ve fucking all these cute girls trying to act like grown women. So why don’t I show you what a real woman can do with a beautiful cock like this”

You guys send me so many great ideas for SNSD, so I just had to get at least this one off my chest. This got way out of hand, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Sunbae

(Choi Sooyoung X Male Reader)

"Oh god, yes!"

Ningning's voice echoes through the changing room as you take her from behind.

You usually don't meet other idols that often, since you are in boy group that is mostly keeping to itself within the industry. Your own practice room, your own schedules, your own recording studio and so on. For the last three years, your group has taken Korea and the rest of the world by storm, so you do deserve this special treatment.

And there are more benefits. For example, being very popular with the female idols. Especially the ones your age. They all have busy schedules themselves, so there is no time for boyfriends. You are happy to help out though. Between schedules, you enjoy the company of Korea's most beautiful idols. You remember Wonyoung from three weeks ago. She is insanely pretty and the sex was great. The only downside is your own busy schedule. Not enough time to actually become proper fuck buddies with one if the girls, your schedules mostly conflicting.

But not on a day like this. The company got a great deal with a clothing brand. A big deal. And that's why a lot of idols are here, at this photoshoot location.

Just like you and Ningning.

"Right there, please!"

She cries out again as you hold her by her waist, her upper body resting atop the makeup table.

"And now turn right, please!"

You do as you are told, barely hearing the director's voice over the shutters of the cameras.

Your group already finished it's photoshoot half an hour ago. Your individual shoot is coming to an end too. Not knowing who it is, you are still waiting for your partner for the next couple of photos.

Since your agency isn't the only one now signed with the brand, you are not completely surprised, when you see that the idol approaching you is from another company.

"Hello, sunbae."

You bow respectfully. Trying not not stare. Choi Sooyoung. From SNSD. You can't believe your luck. Your favorite girl group. And Sooyoung herself. In that dress. You have to stop yourself, before you start drooling.

"Hello. (Y/n) is it, right?"

"Yeah."

You smile back at her, honored that she knows your name. The two of you haven't met before.

"I've heard a lot about you."

Her smile is genuine, but you could swear, her eyes are trying to tell you something. Like a secret. A secret only the two of you know.

"I'm honored."

You bow again, before turning towards the camera again. Wanting to hide your nervousness, you try to be professional.

The two of you just stand next to each other for a couple of shots at the beginning. Sooyoung, in that gorgeous, pink, shoulder less dress and golden heels and you, black suit, black vest, and a burgundy tie, which matches the red watch on your wrist.

Eventually, you find yourself holding onto her waist, while Sooyoung's hand rest on your right shoulder. It's only show of course. Trying to be respectful, you don't actually touch her, your hand just above the pink fabric.

She takes a couple of shots alone with the chair, your leader sat on during your group's shots. Afterwards, you take your place on that chair, while Sooyoung lifts her leg. You are captivated by its length and smoothness for a moment, until you feel her heel, slightly digging into your thigh.

A couple of camera shutters later, Sooyoung places her hand on her knee, bending forward. You are very aware of the fact that, with one look in the right direction, you would be seeing something that would keep you up all night. Instead, you stay focused on the camera.

"Now, (y/n)! Please place your hand on Sooyoung's thigh! Sooyoung, put your hand on his head!"

She does what she is told, immediately. You hesitate for a moment.

"You can touch me."

You look at her face for the first time in a while. Then you nod, wrapping your hand around her warm thigh.

"You are cute when you are being respectful."

You bite your lip, hoping the heat in your cheeks won't show in the photos later on.

"Just like that!"

The two of you look into the camera, until Sooyoung drops her first bomb on you.

"Don't look into the camera. Look straight ahead."

"What?"

In her position, she is almost pushing her chest into your face and now she asking you to look?

"Trust me. It's gonna come out great. Plus, you can see it as a reward. For making me look so good next to you in those pictures."

You gulp, debating internally, if you want to put your career on the line or not. But the temptation quickly proves to be too much. You only glance at her cleavage once, her smooth skin tempting you to lean in closer. You eventually do turn your head.

But instead of staying in place, Sooyoung suddenly changes position. Her lower body stands still. She removes her hand from your head and places her elbow on her naked knee, her chin now resting on her bend pointer finger and middle finger, as if she is thinking about something. You could still look at her cleavage if you wanted to, but now, Sooyoung's eyes are on the same level as yours.

And you can't escape her gaze. The camera crew gives you two applause and complements for your amazing chemistry, but you barely hear them. Sooyoung stares into your eyes, into your body, into your soul. You don't even dare to breathe, yet alone bluntly stare at her chest.

"Bad boy. Did you just try to look at your noona's tits?"

Your head starts spinning as if you have been dancing for ten hours straight. What is going on? You do, what you do best in these kind of situations, when you don't know what to do. Try to be funny.

"I didn't know I already have noona privileges."

You do make her chuckle as you point out her slip up. She just indirectly offered you a less formal way of talking with her.

The unwavering, sexy look she had put on, turns into a loving smile.

"From what I hear, you already have your fair share of privileges."

Her teasing and her overall sexy look makes it difficult for you to not become hard in public. A taks that proofs to be very difficult to pull off.

For everyone outside your little bubble, it must look like the two of you changed your concept from seductive strangers, to loving couple.

Unbeknownst to them, Sooyoung keeps talking in that voice of hers, sweet honey seems to be dripping from her lips.

"Do you enjoy your privileges so far?"

You are not slow, when it comes to thinking. And you desperately hope that your guess is correct. That Sooyoung isn't talking about actual privileges anymore.

"I-I do."

You can't help but let a shaky breath escape your lips. This is too good to be true.

"Oh, really?"

Sooyoung seems genuinely surprised.

"You don't care for noona privileges, then?"

She almost sounds hurt.

Like a well oiled machine, Sooyoung changes her position again, without even waiting for directions. A true model to outsiders. A skilful seductress to you.

She spins around and sits down on your right thigh. Instinctively, you reach for her waist, but hesitate, not knowing if you should touch her or not.

"Since you're my hoobae, I expect you to do as I say, from now on."

She suddenly sounds cold. And since you can't see her face anymore, you're afraid that you just blew your one and only chance of getting intimate with Choi Sooyoung.

But your worries of missing out are quickly replaced by new ones as she takes your hand and places it on top of her dress. But not around her waist, where you first intended to put it. Your palm rests on the hem of her pink one piece, your fingertips touching her upper thigh, which is draped over her left one. You are aware that only that piece of fabric and a couple of centimeters separate you from her core.

Eventually, your personal torture ends. The crew thanks the two of you for your hard work, promising you that your pictures will captivate the world, thanks to your chemistry.

You find it a little over the top, but you don't have the energy, or will, to argue.

"Come."

Sooyoung tells you, after saying goodbye to the staff. You walk after her, heading towards your changing room. But you never make it there. In the middle of the small hallway, Sooyoung turns around. Her arms now crossed in front of her body, she looks you up and down.

"Did you have fun with Ningning, earlier?'

You are stunned and visibly embarrassed.

"Well, I did hear her having fun, but I'm wondering about you. How often did she make you cum?"

"S-Sunbae... I-"

"Oh please. Don't play innocent. I heard about you more than I should've."

"Y-You did?"

You thought she was referring to your group's music, when she first said that an hour ago.

"Yes. I can even tell you their names, if you don't believe me. You seem to be leaving behind quite the impression."

"N-No I-I'm good, thanks."

Sooyoung ignores you with ease.

"Huh Yunjin, Shin Yuna,..."

You close your eyes in embarrassment, while she keeps counting with her fingers.

"...Baek Jiheon, Jang Wonyoung, Ningning..."

Sooyoung's eyes move from her fingers to you.

"You are going through these girls, like they go through their shoes, playboy."

"I-It's not like that."

What kind of stupid defense is that?

"Oh really? All these young girls seem to fall so easily for your tricks, is it that?"

"Sunbae, please..."

Sooyoung chuckles.

"Have you even been with a proper woman before?"

You get what she means. Someone older than yourself. You shake your head.

Sooyoung shakes her head in disappointment.

"Those girls are inexperienced themselves. How could they take care of my hoobae properly?"

She takes a step closer, slightly tilting her head as if she is trying to figure out what you could be possibly seeing in those girls.

"You've been fucking all these cute girls acting like grown women. So why don't I show you what a real woman can do with that big cock of yours?"

A wave of pleasure and anticipation rushes down your spine. For a brief moment, you wonder why Sooyoung would call you big, specifically. But you see her glancing down, biting her lip. You do the same, realizing that you have a hard on. You don't know for how long already.

Without waiting for an answer, Sooyoung reaches forward, cupping your cock over your pants

"I like the feeling of that. Maybe it's not only tricks you have going for you."

She gives you a quick peck on the lips, a cheeky smile playing around hers.

"I want a proper taste of you. All these rumors I hear sound way too exaggerated."

"Wait, sunbae. I-"

"Shush."

Sooyoung glares at you. Instead of her lips, her finger is now sealing your lips.

"You thought you were sleeping with all the female idols, right?"

You give her a weak nod.

"You are so naive. I'm gonna show you the real side of this industry."

You expect another kiss, when Sooyoung leans towards you. Instead, your lips only graze hers as she makes you miss, heading straight for your ear.

"Let me give you some senior advice, hoobae."

She nibbles on your earlobe for a second, before she continues to whisper into your ear.

"When someone offers you noona privileges, you take them."

Sooyoung takes your face into her hands, now looking at you again.

"Because real women like me, know what a boy like you wants."

She leans forward once again. Your lips barely touching hers as she keeps talking.

"We have what you need."

A moan almost escapes your lips.

Sooyoung pulls away, giving you a victorious smile.

"Follow me."

You do as she says and soon find yourself inside a spacious kitchen. Way bigger than your dressing room. Probably for the staff, if they have to work here the whole day.

"Isn't this kinda public?"

Sooyoung rolls her eyes. In that moment, you promise yourself not to say anything stupid ever again. She almost looked terrifying.

"Lesson one, playboy."

She placed her hands on the counter, slightly leaning over it. It takes an incredible amount of self control to not glance at her cleavage.

"Learn how to take a blowjob."

"What?"

You are mentally not quite there yet. You are still trying to figure out, how you went from a simple photoshoot to this.

"What do you-"

Sooyoung cuts you off with a gesture, motioning for you to come closer. Following her order, you find yourself trapped between the older woman and the countertop behind you.

"You are asking, what do I mean?"

You swallow your reply.

"I mean, that you have to learn how it feels like to receive proper head. We don't want you to cum too quickly."

Sooyoung leans in. Instead of kissing you, she tilts her head, kissing your neck.

"You see..."

Her words are interrupted by another kiss.

"Your noonas know how to worship cock. We know how important your pleasure is."

Sooyoung now moves towards your lips, leaving a trail of kisses behind.

"Now, try to hold on."

She whispers against your lips, before giving you a quick but deep kiss that leaves you breathless.

You watch in amazement as Sooyoung lets her finger wander from your cheek to your chin, along your throat, past your chest, until she reaches the hem of your shirt. At the same time, she lowers herself further and further, until she is squatting in front of you.

With a lustful look in her eyes, Sooyoung holds your stare as she opens your pants, without having to look at them. They glide down your legs and a moment later, you feel her give your clothed cock a kiss.

"Not half bad for a boy."

Sooyoung licks her lips, before she slowly pulls down your underwear.

"Hmmm."

Her warm breath plays around your cock as she hums in satisfaction.

"Girls your age don't know how to appreciate a dick like this."

Sooyoung closes her eyes, savouring the first taste of your cock as she lets her tongue glide over your tip. She follows that up with a couple of quick kisses along your shaft, before placing her tongue at your base. Your breath hitches as she drags her tongue along the underside of your cock.

"You really are blessed. It tastes amazing."

Sooyoung purrs, before finally opening her mouth wider. You bite your lip, watching how she slowly moves forward, her mouth around your cock without touching it. Once she reaches the second half of your length, Sooyoung finally closes her mouth around your cock, her lips forming an airtight seal.

"Oh, god."

You groan out, your head rolling back.

She starts to let her lips glide along your shaft as she pulls back, her tongue pressing against it from underneath. Once she reaches your tip, her tongue swirls around it, before she starts to take you into her mouth again.

Sooyoung doesn't stop doing these motions. Back and forth. Her head moves back and forth. Her lips glide along your shaft, back and forth. Her tongue drags along the underside of your shaft, back and forth.

Your knuckles quickly turn white as you hold onto the countertop behind you. Sooyoung is doing this at a way slower pace than all of the girls you've been with so far. She visibly enjoys sucking you off. You can tell by how her eyes are closed. How a slight smile plays around her lips. How she slightly hums around your cock, whenever she is about to take you in again.

It becomes harder and harder for you to keep your composure. There is no way in hell you're gonna last much longer. You try to tell her that, but your words are suddenly stuck in your throat, when Sooyoung decides to up her game even more.

You are now forced to take heavy breaths as the woman in front of you takes more of your cock. She glides further down you length than before. And soon, you realize that you've hit the back of her throat.

"Oh, shit."

You can't help but groan as the muscles of her throat flex around you. The act makes her throat squeeze you even more than before. Sooyoung slowly retreats, this time only halfway, before she pushes forward again.

"S-Sunbae."

You groan again, wanting to tell her to stop. If this is only the appetizer and you actually have a chance of feeling her pussy around you, you don't want to blow this. No pun intended.

Sooyoung does eventually listen to your warnings, feeling your cock throbbing in her throat. She leans back, until your tip only rests on her parted lips. She lets it fall off. Now, only a string of saliva connects her lips with your cock.

"That was..."

You can't find the right words.

"Good?"

Sooyoung shoots you a mocking grin.

"Good."

You repeat after her as you try to hold onto the feeling you just experienced.

"Judging from your reaction, these girls don't know how to take a cock down their throats. "

You weakly shake your head, confirming her assumption.

"A shame."

She mumbles to herself, before wrapping her hand around your cock.

"Time for lesson two, then."

Sooyoung stands back up again, her face inches away from yours.

"Learn to be patient. Older women don't like quick and meaningless wild sex. They like to take their time."

She pushes you towards your left, signaling you to sit down on the chair that is standing in the corner. After having done so, you watch Sooyoung stepping in front of you, before leaning down, her hands rest on your knees.

"This is also the perfect time for you to recover. Don't rush into this. Let me take the lead and enjoy the show."

Sooyoung puts her heel onto your thigh again, just like during the photoshoot. Except this time, she puts her finger on the top if her foot and slowly starts to drag it upwards. You watch it move along her smooth skin. Once it reaches her knee, Sooyoung speaks again.

"Learn to appreciate a woman's body. How it looks, how it feels and how it responds to your touch."

She reaches down again to take your hand. Slowly your fingers move up her leg and past her knee. Her thigh feels incredible as you explore more of her body. You eventually reach the hem of her dress. Before you can even try to push further, Sooyoung swats your hand away. In a swift motion, as if she is dancing to an inaudible tune, she lifts her foot off your thigh and spins around.

Her back is now facing you. Sooyoung raises her hands and then, slowly, lets them travel down the sides of her body. At the same time, she sways her hips seductively, until her hands reach her waist. She slightly bends forward as they run over her ass.

You almost reach out to grab a handful of her cheeks. But Sooyoung now lowers herself and sits on your lap. Her ass slightly grinds against you. She reaches behind herself, finding the back of your head, before forcing you to lean it forward. Your lips land on her naked shoulder and you start to kiss her skin. Thanks to the angle, you finally have a clear view of her cleavage for the first time. No bra, you notice. The dress seems to be tight enough to keep her breasts in place by itself.

Sooyoung must've caught you staring somehow, because she now place another finger on her collarbone. Her pink nail glides over skin, eventually reaching the upper hem of her dress. She hooks her finger into it, slowly pulling it down.

Just enough to make you drool, without revealing everything.

Sooyoung seems to have enough of your kisses. She gets off your lap and turns around again. While maintaining eye contact, she hooks both her thumbs into her dress on either of her sides. Sooyoung starts to strip in front of you. When she is about to free her tits entirely, she leans forward and lets them fall out of her dress. You watch with a dry mouth, unable to say a word.

She wiggles her hips as she gets the rest of the dress off, until she is standing completely naked in front of you. Her pink dress a pile of cloth around her ankles. She steps out of it and towards you.

"Good boy."

She straddles your lap again. Your cock is now resting on her stomach at the hight of her belly button.

"Lesson three."

Sooyoung reaches down to slowly stroke your cock. Her other hand grazes your cheek, before she lets it rest on your shoulder.

"Be a good fuck toy for your noona. Trust me, I know how to ride you so well, that you pass out from the pleasure."

She gives you another kiss on the lips, before she lifts herself off your lap.

"And feel free to explore a real woman's body."

With that, Sooyoung aligns her pussy with your cock. She slowly sinks back down.

"Oh, god!"

You immediately groan.

"Fuck!"

Even Sooyoung lets out a loud moan.

"You feel way bigger than before."

She now places the other hand on your shoulder as well, only your tip resting inside of her right now. That changes, when Sooyoung slowly lowers herself further. Looking down, you watch more and more of your cock disappear inside of her.

"Were you even able to fit all of this into your cute little girls?"

Despite her mocking tone, you can tell that Sooyoung is struggling. She stops for a couple of seconds halfway down, before she eventually keeps going.

When she does reach your base, her eyes roll to the back of her head.

"Damn, I can feel your cock push my organs out of the way."

Before you are able to reply, Sooyoung starts to lift herself off of you again. When only your tip remains inside her core, she lowers herself back onto you.

You grit your teeth at the pleasure and you remember what Sooyoung told you earlier. Your hands start from her hips. They move across her midriff and sides, until they reach her tits. You begin to grope them, while Sooyoung keeps her slow pace. Maybe you are a little too much to handle. Even for her.

Her soft skin underneath your palms and her tight pussy around your cock send spikes of pleasure through your system. When Sooyoung finally does get used to your size, she starts to ride you, just like she promised.

Her pace increases with every other thrust. A minute or so later, she is bouncing on your cock, a satisfied smile on her face. You lean forward to catch one of her nipples with your mouth, which makes her moan.

Sucking on her tits, you enjoy the ride Sooyoung is giving you. Once in a while, she changes it up a little. Instead of constantly impaling herself on your cock, she occasionally stays glued to your hips. She would then move hers in a circle motion, making your dick rub against all kind of places inside of her.

Sooyoung alternates between both styles of riding, making sure you are on a steady way towards your orgasm. But you manage to catch her off guard with how well you suck on her tits. Sooyoung moans more and more, never having expected you to be this good. She doesn't lose her rhythm, but it's obvious she is beginning to struggle to keep it together.

"Yes, keep sucking on them! Good boy!"

She praises you, while her hips smash down onto yours. You can't tell how long it as been, but Sooyoung's prediction might actually become true. Her pussy keeps draining your composure out of you. Whenever she circles her hips, your legs quiver. Your hands have found their way back to her waist by now. You are squeezing her sides, trying to not lose grip on reality.

Sooyoung is in no better condition. Your cock keeps hitting just the right spots. Whenever she impales herself on your cock, she can feel it push upwards against her guts, forcing the air out of her lungs. Eventually, she can't take it anymore. Only able to grind herself on top of you, back and forth, she becomes a mess in your lap, while you keep sucking on her breasts.

"Ah, fuck! (Y/n)!"

She didn't call you by a nickname for the first time in quite a while. Her pussy pulsates around you, trying to make you orgasm too. Her nails dig into your shoulders, probably leaving stinging marks behind. Sooyoung shivers and shakes on top of you.

Once she finally does come down, she gives you a lustful stare.

"Not bad, playboy."

She captures your lips with hers. You instinctively wait for her to announce another lesson.

"Last lesson."

There it is.

"Learning how to cream pie your sunbaes."

"Cream pie?"

"You heard me the first time."

Sooyoung bites her lip and resumes her riding.

You've never done this before, for obvious reasons. Your career, the other idol's career and so on and so on. But now, she isn't really giving you much of a choice. And it's not like you're complaining. Every fan would dream of having a chance to cream pie Choi Sooyoung.

That dream becomes reality a couple of minutes later.

"Oh, god! Sunbae!"

Now it's your turn to shout out her name. Well, at least the formal version of it. Your heels dig into the floor, you thrust upwards into her waiting pussy. And then, you start to fill her up.

A deep moan rolls off Sooyoung's tongue as she feels herself getting cream pied by someone way younger than herself. Your warmth enters her stomach and she makes sure that nothing of your precious cum escapes, by not moving at all.

"You did a great job, playboy. You are a fast learner."

After her praise, Sooyoung gives you a curious look.

"How many more rounds do you have in you? I won't be leaving this place, until I've made sure that you are taken care of properly."

She leans down to kiss you again, her tongue dancing with yours for a while.

"And there is one more thing older women do, that younger girls don't."

After breaking the kiss, Sooyoung whispers into your ear again.

"Swallow."

[woozinhos]

vernon gives the vibe of someone who LOVES eating pussy. i would love if u wrote a lil fic where vernon comes just from eating u out so doesn’t even want/need to fuck u

Notes: I’m backkk hope you enjoy this one!!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

You and Vernon were in your bedroom, the air thick with tension and anticipation. He had you pinned down on the bed, his body pressed against yours as he kissed you hungrily.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck. "I couldn't concentrate on anything else." You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He was already hard, his desire for you evident through his jeans. Vernon continued to kiss and suck on your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys as he made his way down to your chest.

He reached up and pulled off your shirt, his eyes roaming over your bare skin with appreciation. Vernon moved lower, his lips trailing down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you with a hungry gaze, his eyes dark with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the lacey edge of your panties. "I can't get enough of you." He kissed the fabric gently, his tongue darting out to tease you through the thin material. You moan again, arching your back as he continued to tease you with his mouth. Vernon was relentless, his tongue working its way under the fabric of your panties and exploring your most sensitive areas. He groaned against you, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you in place.

"You taste so good," he said, his voice muffled against your skin. "I could do this all day." He pulled your panties down and threw them aside, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze. He leaned in and buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling around your clit in a way that made you gasp and writhe beneath him. You could feel the heat building up inside you as Vernon continued to eat you out, his tongue working in perfect harmony with his lips and fingers. He knew exactly how to drive you wild, and he was doing it with ease.

"Oh, Vernon," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as you struggled to keep yourself from bucking against his face. "I'm so close..." Vernon hummed against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right as he continued to suck on your clit. Vernon's own arousal was growing by the second, and he couldn't help but grind his hips against the bed as he continued to pleasure you. The sounds of your moans and gasps were driving him wild, and he was desperate for release.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. "You're driving me crazy." He increased the pace of his fingers, pumping them in and out of you as he sucked harder on your clit. He was so hard that it was almost painful, his jeans feeling impossibly tight against his throbbing erection. You could see the bulge in Vernon's jeans, and you knew he was struggling to hold back. You reached down and grabbed his hair, pulling him closer to you as you neared your climax.

"Don't stop," you panted, your body shaking with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum..." Vernon didn't need any more encouragement. He doubled his efforts, his fingers working faster and harder as he pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Vernon couldn't get enough of you, and as he watched you come down from your high, he knew he wasn't done yet. He couldn't stop himself from continuing to eat you out, his tongue moving in a frenzy as he chased his own release. Vernon's moans mixed with yours as he continued to grind against the bed, his body trembling with need. He was so close to the edge, but he didn't want to stop tasting you.

"I'm gonna cum in my pants," he groaned, his voice muffled against you. "I can't hold it anymore." Vernon tried to hide his orgasm, but it was too late. He let out a deep, guttural moan as he came, his cum soaking through his boxers and staining the front of his jeans.

He slumped forward, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. "Damn it," he muttered, looking down at the mess he had made. "I didn't mean to do that."You looked up at Vernon, a mixture of surprise and amusement on your face. "Looks like you enjoyed yourself," you teased, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face.

Vernon chuckled weakly, still trying to recover from his intense orgasm. "Yeah, I did," he admitted, blushing slightly. "But I didn't mean to ruin my pants." You giggle and reach out to caress his cheek. "It's okay, baby," you say soothingly. "You can always take them off." Vernon's blush deepens, and he looks down at you with a sheepish grin. "I guess I should have thought of that before I came all over myself," he joked.

[hoshifighting]

hey I’m the anon that just requested the mingyu fics, they were so freaking good! I usually hesitate to send in requests but you were so fast , I totally didn’t expect it 😭 loved every bit of it!

if it’s not a bother could I request for mingyu overstimualting reader so much to the point she goes into subspace for the very first time, she’s so clingy and a crying mess but mingyu tries to help her out of it?

Reader going to the subspace for the first time, after overstimulating, with Mingyu

a/n: I'm glad you liked it my love, I always try to respond to all requests when I have free time! xoxo, Lyla. <3

warnings: overstimulation, fingering, subspace, sumbmissive!reader, dom!mingyu, aftercare, overwhelm

Mingyu's fingers moved in and out of you relentlessly, his touch expertly hitting all the right spots. you were a trembling mess beneath him, your body already pushed to its limits from multiple orgasms. your thighs quivered, your breath came in ragged gasps, and tears of overwhelming pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes.

"Gyu, please," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting into you. "i can't... i can't take anymore..."

but he didn't stop. instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "one more for me, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with both command and reassurance. "you can do it. just one more."

you shook your head, sobbing softly. "it's too much... i can't..."

Mingyu's fingers curled inside you, brushing against your g-spot with precision, while his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. the combination was too intense, and your body arched off the bed, your cries escalating.

"yes, you can," he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "you're my good girl, and you can take it. just let go."

your mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the line between the two blurring until you couldn't distinguish one from the other. you felt another orgasm building, more intense than any before it, and you screamed Mingyu's name as it crashed over you, your body convulsing uncontrollably.

tears streamed down your face as the orgasm wracked your body, and you found yourself slipping into a strange, detached state. the world around you faded, leaving only Mingyu's touch and voice grounding you. you were in sub space, a place you'd never been before, and it was both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

Mingyu slowed his movements, sensing the change in you. he gently withdrew his fingers and pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. "shh, it's okay," he whispered, stroking your hair soothingly. "i've got you. you're safe."

you clung to him, your body trembling as you tried to process the overwhelming sensations. "Gyu... i feel... i feel so..."

"shh," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. "you're okay, baby. just breathe. i'm right here with you."

you buried your face in his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as you slowly came back to yourself. the tears continued to flow, but they were no longer just from overstimulation—they were from the sheer intensity of the experience and the deep connection you felt with Mingyu.

"you're so good," he murmured, his voice a calming balm to your frazzled nerves. "you did so well. i'm so proud of you."

you sniffled, nuzzling closer to him. "i... i didn't know it could feel like that."

Mingyu chuckled softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "it's a lot, isn't it? but you did amazing. you're so strong."

"Gyu... it was so much," you mumbled, your voice small and broken.

"i know, baby. i'm sorry," he said softly, kissing the top of your head. "i got carried away. but you're safe now. i'm here."

he held you like that for a while, his touch and voice slowly bringing you back to reality. when you finally felt steady enough, he gently lifted you and carried you to the bathroom. he sat you on the edge of the tub and started running a warm bath, making sure the water was just right.

"let's get you cleaned up, okay?" he said, his voice still soft and comforting.

you nodded, still feeling a bit dazed but grateful for his care. he helped you into the tub, holding your hand as you lowered yourself into the warm water. the heat soothed your aching muscles, and you let out a sigh of relief.

Mingyu knelt beside the tub, gently washing your body with a soft cloth. his touch was tender and careful, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at you. "how are you feeling now?" he asked quietly.

"better," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "thank you, Gyu."

he smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "anything for you, baby," he said. "i'm here to take care of you."

after the bath, he helped you dry off and dressed you in one of his oversized shirts, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin. he led you back to the bedroom, tucking you into the freshly changed sheets.

"just rest, okay?" he said, climbing in beside you and pulling you into his arms. "i'll be right here."

you nestled into his chest, feeling safe and loved. "I love you, Gyu," you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washed over you.

"i love you too, baby," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "just rest now. i've got you."

[fizzie-frog]

You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

[ladykailitha]

The Rockstar and the Teacher

Just thinking about a rockstar Eddie and a school teacher Steve who have been together for a decade, but Steve is kept out of the limelight by his choice.

He doesn't want to have his kids harassed because of who he's dating. Plus the whole gay man= pedophile in the minds of most parents.

Things are going great until they aren't.

Steve sees a tabloid with the headline "Eddie Munson photographed outside local bar with boyfriend, hints there may be a spring wedding!" and he's furious. Like seeing red, pissed off.

Because the guy next to Eddie is not Steve.

Whoever he is, he's dressed the same as Eddie. Leather jacket, long hair, chains everywhere.

But he barely has time to get worked up because even though Eddie had been in LA working on the band's next album, he is bursting through their house in Hawkins's door.

Eddie skids to a stop when he sees the tabloid on their kitchen counter and holds up his hands.

"I'm sorry, baby," he mutters and Steve chokes back tears, "I was trying to get home before you saw that."

"Why would you do that to me?" Steve cries.

Eddie slowly pulls out his phone like he's getting it out for a cop and hands it over to Steve, who takes it with a frown.

"It's not me, sweetheart," Eddie says. "I can prove it."

Steve looks at the phone and it instantly opens to Steve's face.

Eddie can see the hope spark in Steve's eyes as he looks through Eddie's phone.

Text message after text message about Eddie planning on getting Steve a necklace with both of their initials on it from Steve's favorite jewelry designer.

Eddie's phone pinging him at a nearby bar, but not the one the photo is showing him coming out of at the time it was taken.

Then the final evidence. A fan photo of Eddie and the girl taking a picture just outside of it the other bar at the time other Eddie was supposedly getting his picture taken with his "boyfriend".

"My management and PR team are on it, Stevie," Eddie tells him. "We think it was a setup from the jewelry guy. He lured me to the bar so that they could stage the pap photo."

Steve frowns at the phone in his hand, his fingers gripping it so tightly that his knuckles go white.

"Why?"

Eddie runs his hands over his face. "Honestly?" Steve nods. "To get you to come out in the public eye."

Steve looks at the phone and then back at the paper on the counter. Eddie can see his heart sink.

"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs. "I've been selfish. If I had just gone to LA with you been your partner all of the time, this wouldn't have happened."

Eddie takes Steve's face in his hands. "You are my partner all of the time. Even when we're apart. You weren't being selfish. You had just gotten your degree when we made it big. You wanted to use what you had paid for, and rightly so. This is on them, not you. Never you!"

Steve lets out a shuddered breath and then nods. "Okay."

He lets out another breath and Eddie smiles as Steve straightens his shoulders and cracks his knuckles.

"Give me two hours and I'll have this sorted."

Eddie doesn't doubt it.

****

Two hours later, Steve comes out in a beautiful cream suit and silver mesh top.

Eddie looks up from his place on the sofa and licks his lips slowly. He had been messaging Chrissy, his manager while Steve was doing whatever it was in his office.

"Wow, baby you look good enough to eat."

Steve grins. "It's a good thing you're hungry because we're going out to dinner."

Eddie stands up quickly and puts a hand on Steve's waist. "Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to. We're already suing everyone for defamation of character and libel."

Steve grinned. "Oh yeah. I've already spoken to Robin and Chrissy and they're onboard."

"K, baby."

****

They arrive at the restaurant and they sit in Eddie's little two seater.

"Last chance, Stevie," Eddie said, looking out at the waiting reporters. "Just say the word and we'll go somewhere more secluded."

Steve shakes his head. "Let's do this."

Eddie gives his hand a squeeze and gets out first.

"Eddie! Eddie!" one reporter calls out. "What do you have to say about that picture in The Sun?"

"That's not me," he says calmly. "That's not my boyfriend. I would never cheat on him that way."

Then a burst of questions asking about his real boyfriend as he moves around the car to open the other door.

Steve steps out looking like sex on legs. But also like nothing anyone pegged as Eddie's boyfriend.

Eddie kisses his hand and Steve blushes.

Suddenly all the questions are directed at Steve, asking if he's the boyfriend? How long have they been dating? What's his name?

Steve just bats his eyelashes and says quite clearly, "I would ask you to respect our privacy during this trying time."

BOOM!

Mic drop.

The reporters clam up, the cameras stop flashing as they stare at him in open mouthed shock.

Eddie swoops in and gives Steve the biggest kiss. And the only reason it was even caught on camera was because the video camera hadn't stopped rolling.

They go inside and Steve gets two messages on his phone and Eddie asks if he's going to look at them, but he shakes his head.

"It's probably just Robin wanting all the inside scoop."

So they finish their meal and walk back out to the valet, hand in hand. It's then when Steve pulls out his phone. He was right about the first message, the second one was from a private number and merely said:

-Ben fatto, mio caro*

Steve smiles and kisses the the screen before tucking his phone back in his pocket.

As they drive home, Eddie asks about the texts.

"Just my mom telling me she was proud of me in the only way she could."

Mrs. Sophia Harrington was too conceited to send him anything directly, especially since Clint Harrington had cut Steve off years ago due to him being gay. But she could send a single message from a private number that she would never use again, to let her son know that she was proud at how well he had handled the reporters.

Eddie just smiles and they drive home in comfortable silence.

****

Steve goes to work the next morning and stops in at the principal's office. He smiles when he realizes the press hasn't figured out who he is yet. But it will only be a matter of time and he knows it.

The principal holds up a printed copy of his resignation and demands to know the meaning of it.

So Steve tells him.

"Steve..." the principal whines when he's done.

"You know you're going to have parents banging down your door the second it gets out," Steve explains. "It's easier for me to just walk away now and not wait for you to have to fire me."

The principal sighs but agrees. "You'll be missed."

Steve nods and stands up. At least he'll have time to say goodbye to his kids.

By lunch time it's gotten around the school that he's leaving but not why.

Steve had sworn his kids to secrecy so everyone could say goodbye, but a couple of his students come and hang out with him at lunch to talk about it.

"I knew you had to someone cool," the one kid says. "You knew too much about Corroded Coffin to be lame ole Mr. Harrington."

Yeah, Steve isn't going to miss that one kid.

He makes it through the school day and some of the parents have setup an impromptu farewell party on the front lawn of the school.

It's a tearful goodbye, but Steve feels lighter as he makes his way to car with all his things, then he has in years.

****

The news breaks on who he is later that night and Steve doesn't envy the principal's headache tomorrow, but cuddled up with Robin and Eddie on his sofa, he really can't find it in himself to give a fuck.

They'll later go on the Tonight Show and talk about how Steve had been in the closet for years and how he was forced out by this stunt with the photo. He talks about how other celebrities had been forced out too and that apparently it's not just for famous people.

That because he was with a famous person that meant he had no rights either and how that has to start changing.

He's happy he's out now, but it should have been on his own terms and not the media's.

There ends up being a spring wedding, but just the following year as Eddie and Steve tie the knot, two beautiful rings on their hands and a dazzling necklace at Steve's throat with their new initials on it EM and SM.

There is a mysterious gift of two tickets to a private villa in Italy after their honeymoon that has them both grinning like fools.

****

Here's a little gay Italian Steve for you.

*Well done, my dear

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

[ameliathornromance]

“It’ll be fine.” You reassured him, holding your Orc Boyfriends hand. You gave it a comforting squeeze. “She doesn’t bite.”

“But she’s a little girl.” Your Orc answered. He’d stopped just before your front door. “Look at me,” your Orc Boyfriend let go of your hand and gestured to his figure. Tall, green and muscular, he pointed at the door. “Your child is going to go running for the hills once she sees me.”

"I've already told her you're an Orc." You tell him.

"Telling someone about an Orc and seeing an Orc are two different things, hun."

At that, you roll your eyes.

Your ex, had gone out to go and chop firewood and never returned. Since you lived very far away from the nearest village, it was rare you heard news. After your ex hadn’t returned the next morning, you went into the village, crying, pleading and begging for people to help look for him.

But unfortunately, no one had seen him. And two days turned into a week… which turned into three weeks… and then a month. Around the two month mark, you got a letter from your ex, saying that he had been having an affair with the milk maid and they had eloped.

Your daughter, who was only a toddler at the time, did not understand what it meant when you cried so much you gagged or when you randomly burst into tears when you saw newly weds passing by in a heavily decorated carriage.

The only thing that held you together, was your child. While you still wondered what you did wrong and conjured up daydreams of keeping your husband here, your daughter made those vanish in an instant. Just hearing even a small giggle, was more than enough to drown out those thoughts… for a little while at least.

Around your daughters sixth birthday, you had met your Orc. You had been in town, looking for cake ingredients when the Orc offered to help you carry your many bags. From that point onwards, the two of you were always in contact… And it became romantic.

Once you told him you had a daughter and told him of the betrayal from your ex, your Orc snorted. “What a pathetic man. You and your daughter are better off without him.” He had let a grin cross his face, “and now you have me. And I won’t leave you.”

When he told you that, you had stared at him, hardly daring to believe it. The internal doubt was blown away by his words, you had to hide your face from him as you wiped your nose and dried your eyes.

“Oh, hun I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he comforted, “c’mere.” You had spent the rest of your date in his arms.

Hearing his reassurance only solidified your resolution: Your daughter would have to meet your Orc Boyfriend.

But your Orc – who was usually so boastful and confident – was now reduced down to a bundle of nerves. It was sweet, how he braided and re-braided his hair over and over again, asking: “does this look alright?”

And now, as your Orc looked down at you, with your pleading eyes and sighed. He knew how important this was to you, your daughter was worth more than gold. “You’re sure she’s not going to be afraid of me?”

You gave a reassuring smile, “one hundred percent.”

Sucking in a deep breath, and exhaling, your Orc Boyfriend nodded. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The two of you marched forward. As the two of you got closer, you heard a loud giggle come from inside the house.

Your smile only grew wider as you opened the front door and out running, came a flurry of (H/C) locks that headed straight for your Orc.

Your daughter skidded to a halt in front of your Orc and pointed, looking between you and your boyfriend. “Mama, you were right!” She grinned widely. “He’s is super tall!”

“Honey,” You kneeled down to her height, “c’mon, be polite.”

“Oh, right.” Your little girl covered her large grin and stepped back a few paces. She stuck her hand out to your Orc, “I’m (D/N), it’s nice to meet you.”

Your Orc looked between you and the tiny child, who still held her tiny hand out to him, waiting for him to shake it. After your encouraging smile, your Orc uncertainly took her hand in his own and shook it. “Um, it’s nice to meet you too. I’m (O/B).”

“Come inside! I wanna show you the drawing I did of the birds earlier!” Not letting your Orcs hand go, your daughter proceeded to drag him inside the house.

As you watched them pass the threshold, your Orc couldn’t help a smile of relief wash over his face.

“I told you you’d be fine.” You whispered to him as your daughter thundered up the stairs to go and get her drawings.

“Why are you telling me that? I wasn’t nervous at all.” your Orc bluffed. He laid back into your sofa, his old confident smile returning.

The day went smoothly after that, your daughter held your boyfriends undivided attention for hours as she explained the fictional drama between her stuffed animals, Mr Blake, the Shopkeep and Mother Goose.

“No!” Your Orc’s jaw dropped when your daughter announced that the Shopkeep had been giving Mother Goose chicken instead of ham like she asked.

By the end of the day, your daughter was practically falling asleep in your boyfriends arms, eyes flitting closed and snapping open whenever the two of you spoke.

Once you’d put her to bed, you found your Orc sitting on the sofa, grinning. You return his smile, confused. “What?”

“You get up everyday and handle that kid.” He said, not taking his eyes off you. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, crashing next to him on the sofa, “she’s a handful, but I love her.” you yawned. “It is a lot to do on my own, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“She’s got me now too.” Your Orc Boyfriend snuggled closer to you. Heart swelling, you threw your arm across his torso and you let your eyes slide closed. And the two of you fell asleep, basking in the domestic bliss.

Patreon

[onehundredelevven]

111 followers Special !!

Giving You All My Love,

In More Rooms Than One.

Toji x reader

cw: explicit smut, oral(fem receiving), rough play, size kink, slight D/S themes, explicit language.

I've already reached (past) 111 followers ! So here's some filth for you, my bbgorls(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

MDNI !!!

☆☆☆

Toji knew you'd been waiting for him. The second he stepped through the door, his sharp green eyes locked onto you, lounging in nothing but his shirt—the one that hung just a little too high on your thighs.

"That for me?" he asked, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You didn't answer, only biting your lip as you looked up at him, and that was all the confirmation Toji needed.

"Fuckin' tease," he growled.

Before you could blink, he had you pressed against the couch, his large hands roaming every inch of your body.

"Don't even think about running, baby," he muttered, tugging the shirt over your head, leaving you bare beneath him.

His lips found yours, rough and demanding, his tongue sliding past your lips to claim your mouth. One of his hands slid between your thighs, two fingers dipping into your already slick folds.

"Already wet for me," he murmured, smirking against your lips. "You're so fuckin' easy, huh?"

You gasped as he pressed those fingers inside you, curling them just right, making you squirm beneath him. But it wasn't long before he replaced them with his cock, the thick head stretching you painfully wide.

"Toji," you whimpered, gripping his shoulders as he pushed deeper.

"Too much for you?" he taunted, though his voice was strained, the sight of your tight pussy struggling to take him almost undoing him. "You can handle it, baby. You're my good girl, right?"

He didn't wait for a reply, setting a brutal pace that left you clawing at the cushions, your cries echoing through the living room.

---

By the time Toji carried you to the kitchen, your legs were trembling, but he wasn't done with you yet.

"C'mere," he said, setting you on the counter.

The cold marble was a sharp contrast to the heat of his mouth as he dipped between your thighs, his tongue swirling around your swollen clit. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging as he sucked and licked, pulling desperate moans from your lips.

"Taste so fuckin' sweet," he muttered, his voice muffled. "Could stay down here all night."

But he didn't.

Before you could catch your breath, he was standing, dragging your hips to the edge of the counter and sliding back inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as he started to move. "You're so fuckin' tight, baby. Look at you, takin' me so well."

Your back arched as he pounded into you, his grunts mixing with your cries. One of his hands slid up to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

"You like that?" he asked, smirking when you nodded weakly. "Knew you were a dirty little thing."

---

When he finally carried you to the bedroom, your body was boneless, but Toji wasn't letting up.

"Not tappin' out on me yet, are you?" he teased, tossing you onto the bed.

He climbed on top of you, his broad chest heaving as he pressed his lips to yours, softer this time, though the hunger in his eyes hadn't faded.

"Gotta give my girl all the love she deserves," he murmured.

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you were on all fours. The bed creaked beneath you as he thrust back inside, his pace slower now, but no less intense.

"Fuck," he growled, watching the way your py stretched around him. "You were made for this dick, weren't you?"

Your moans were muffled by the pillows, but Toji wasn't having that.

"Wanna hear you, baby," he said, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling your head back. "Tell me how good it feels."

"S-So good," you whimpered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Toji—fuck, it's so good!"

---

The last stop was the bathroom, where he pinned you against the cold tiles of the shower wall. Water cascaded over both of you as he pressed his lips to your neck, biting and sucking until you were trembling in his arms.

"So good f'me," he growled, his hips snapping against yours. "Every inch of this body belongs to me..."

His movements were slower now, more deliberate, his cock pressing deep inside you with each thrust, his flushed tip kissing you sweet spots. You could feel every vein, every inch, and it was enough to make you fall apart all over again.

"Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice softer now, almost tender. "Give it to me. Let me feel you..."

When you finally came undone, your body trembling in his arms, he followed close behind, groaning your name as he filled you up.

---

Toji smirked as he carried you back to bed, your body limp in his arms.

"Good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Told you I'd take care of you."

And he had every room in the house was proof of that.

[norris55s]

drunk in love - carlos sainz

driver reader x carlos sainz smut

warnings: mature content ahead. please don't read if you're under 18! afab reader, smut, penetrating sex, oral f receiving

a/n: first published written piece! i've overthought it for a long ass time so here it is and i hope it's not half bad lol and there isn't much of a plot either so there's that, it's just thirst and me being weak for a carlos x driver pairing

————————————————————————

Time seemed to stop as Carlos’ hands went from resting on your neck and cheeks, to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He couldn’t envelop you enough in his arms, he somehow wanted more.

“Carlos”, you whined into the most passionate kiss you had ever been given. “If you want me to stop you have to say it now,” he pulled away to speak but returned his lips to yours a fraction of a second later. After tasting you, he wasn’t sure how he would ever pull away again, and prayed you wouldn’t want him to stop.

You should want him to stop. You should want to run away. You should, because he was your greatest threat in the championship battle, and going any further with him complicates the already high stakes. But you don’t want him to stop.

You couldn’t even speak with the way he was kissing you; he was a man starved and you felt dizzy with how desperate he seemed to be close you. After you didn’t tell him to stop and only held onto his hair harder, wanting to deepen a kiss impossible to deepen more, he pushed you against the wall and began to move towards the zipper of your dress.

He felt your goosebumps and almost grinned at the effect his touch had on you; almost like the one you had on him. After pushing the zipper down, he pulled away from the kiss again to look into your eyes for your final consent. “Are you sure?” Carlos asked as his brown eyes stared you down filled with lust but wanting you to be certain about what you were doing to ease his heart. “Please,” you moaned back at him, and it was enough for the man in front of you to go right back to kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before as he pulled down the straps of your dress. You returned the favor of helping take his clothes off, undoing his belt and taking of his shirt. In a split second he carried you to his hotel room bed, and finished undressing you even faster but paradoxically taking his sweet time admiring the sight in front of him.

It had been years and years of Carlos imagining you naked in his bed and the real thing was a million times better. You are a goddess in his eyes and he couldn’t believe he has the chance to touch you in all your divinity.

He wasn’t hard to look at either. His tan, glowing skin looked beyond perfect under the dim lights, and you seized the opportunity to feel how he tensed his muscles under your touch. His attractiveness was beyond your comprehension, but your body knew exactly how to react.

His right hand spread your legs as he kept looking at you, and very much almost moaned at how wet your cunt felt already. His ego beamed and he softly, consistently rubbed your clit to continue the trend. Your mouth quickly began emitting the most beautiful sounds Carlos had ever heard, and he wanted more, so he positioned himself between your thighs and pressed his tongue against your beautiful pussy. There was no sweeter taste on the planet than that of your cunt, no better sounds than those of your moans and whimpers, and no better sight than you naked under him. He’d be damned if he didn’t take you to heaven for allowing him to witness you like this.

“Fuck, Carlos, you’re so good,” was all you could think about as his tongue fucked into you over and over again, with just the right amount of pressure and speed. Soon enough, he slid two fingers in your hole and moved his tongue expertly against your clit. You cried out his name again, music to his ears, and he pumped his fingers at a painfully slow pace contrasting to his rapid licks on your ever more sensitive clit.

It was only a matter of time before you came in his mouth, nearly screaming and holding onto his hair. “God, you taste so good,” he climbed on top of you, never breaking eye contact as he locked your lips again. “Tell me I can fuck you, please,” he asked earnestly, as if there was a chance you would say no. “Carlos, fuck me. Give me your cock, please,” you begged, drunk off the pleasure he was giving you, and guided his member in your entrance with your hand.

He was inside you before either of you could wrap your hands around the fact that there was no turning back. He swore so many times in his head, and a couple out loud, as he felt your tight walls wrap around him. You felt the delicious sting of the stretch his big cock was giving you, moaning his name to his mouth.

“Fuck, you were made for me,” he stated as he took the first thrust. And you believed it. Your bodies and minds were so in sync it gave you whiplash; the passionate sex he was giving you was like nothing you’d experienced before. “You are incredible, you are making me feel incredible” you thought and said, almost as a prayer, as a sign of a newly found devotion. “Fuck me harder.” And Carlos didn’t need to be told twice. His thrust pace became merciless, your breasts bouncing roughly as he mounted you. “Your dick is so big,” all the thoughts in your head were pouring out, praising the man who was giving you the best sex of your life, “I feel so fucking good.” “You’re taking me so well,” he replied, sweat dripping down his defined chest, “Me encanta tu coño”. (I love your cunt).

In between all the kisses, love bites, curse words and back scratches, you both came at the same time. His hot cum filled your pussy and he placed his head in the crook of your neck.

As you came down from your high and took deep breaths together, his eyes looked up at you. You couldn’t tell the emotion behind them, but he quickly let you know. “I love you.”

[simpforrooster]

heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

masterlist.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Magneto As A Loving Husband

Erik Magnus Lehnsherr would be the world's best husband. He's dedicated, loving, and his family is his entire world. Before he discovered his magnetic powers, I've seen how Magda and Anya meant so much to him. So, these are just my head canons of him as a loving husband and father <3

The moment Erik laid his eyes on you, he forgot how to breathe. He couldn't believe someone so beautiful exists. He didn't think it was possible, except it was, because you exist. He was immediately smitten and after a couple years of dating, you two were married.

Erik is a bit of a old school man. He prefers for you to stay at home while he works and brings home the money. He'd want you to spend the money he made, because he works hard for his wife to live comfortably and he wants to spoil you.

Date nights almost every night (before having kids). He'll take you out for a nightly stroll, his arm wrapped around your waist and you two will have to take breaks so he could drown you in kisses and compliments. He'll save up his money to take you out to an expensive restaurant and buy you your favorite jewelry and a beautiful new dress for you to wear. Seeing your beauty makes him fall in love all over again.

Erik found you beautiful no matter what. Whether you're snoring loudly, drool trickling down your chin, one eye lid half open or dressed up for him- you're a sight to behold. He could stare at you for hours and never get enough. He fears of forgetting how beautiful you are.

Erik is the type of man to surprise you with breakfast in bed. He'll make you your favorite breakfast, a fresh cup of brewed coffee, and carry the tray to the bedroom to surprise you. He'll brush his knuckles along your cheek, whispering how beautiful you are. He loves you so much.

He'll write you poems declaring his undying love. Paint your image on a canvas to hang up on the wall. Surprise you with gifts and flowers and chocolates. His heart is yours and yours alone.

The moment he returns from work Erik is in search of you. He wraps his arms around your waist and sways you from side to side, face buried in the crook of your neck. He murmurs how much he's missed you and hates that he has to be away from you, his loving wife that he adores so much and wouldn't change a thing about you.

You fall pregnant? Oh, he's the happiest man on the world! He'll pick you up and spin you around, tears in his eyes as he exclaims how happy he is. Erik is attacking you with his lips, kissing you all over your face and neck and than dropping down to his knees to kiss you all over your stomach. He wraps his arms around your waist and refuses to let go, his smile never wavering.

During your nine months of pregnancy, he's the most supportive husband. Wakes up at 2am to retrieve whatever foods you're craving. Massage your swollen ankles. Attend every doctor appointment. Build the crib and dressers. Help paint the walls and decorate the nursery. Builds you the most comfortable rocking chair for you to sit on.

He never leaves your side during labor. He didn't care how long it took. You needed him and he was there. Erik cried when your first child was born and he couldn't stop praising and thanking you. You demanded the world's greasiest burger (since you couldn't eat while in labor) and he got you whatever you wanted.

Erik is the best father to all of your children. He's attentive, he tries to make it to school events straight after work or tries to work around his schedule. Teaches the children how to ride a bike. Plays catch. He listens to them ramble on about school and what games they played at recess. Helps them with their homework. He has a bad habit of spoiling his children and giving in to whatever they demand. They already have so many toys and he knows he shouldn't buy them anymore, but he can't bring himself to tell them no. They're his babies and it's his duty as a father to spoil his babies.

Every day before leaving for work, he'll help you get the kids ready for school and give them hugs before he leaves. Erik will hug you and hold you in his arms for a moment, cheek pressed against your forehead as he mumbles how much he loves and adores you and thanking you for making him a father. He wouldn't know what to do without his family.

His family means the world to him. He'll die for his family. He loves going out on family outings. Vacations. Family photos to print and frame on the walls. Everything he does, everything he sacrifices, it's for them. To ensure his wife and children live happy and comfortably.