#this is pure filth.

[nuemanfilms]

— s4!sam who fucks his brother’s girlfriend to the point that she’s practically cockdrunk.

Content warning heavy dom!sam, cheating, degrading, crying (sexual), dacryphilla, overstimulation, piv (unprotected), rough sex, blowjob, deepthroating, sir kink (1x), degrading use of names (slut, cockslut, cumslut), breeding kink, sam turns soft at the end, sam winchesters dick (it deserves a warning), and other.

16+ (I am not responsible for the content you consume under 16. That is your own responsibility.)

A/N i am so sorry for the sin i have committed.

Dean left you and Sam alone. You were Dean’s girlfriend of a few months, who was so happy to see him return from hell. But something was different, something was different about Sam, and you felt this attraction that you knew you shouldn’t have about your boyfriend’s brother.

He was more commanding, more dominant over anyone he encountered. He was just… he was ruthless. He took what he wanted when he wanted it.

And you were what he wanted.

Sam had you down on your knees. Unzipping his jeans and revealing his boxer briefs to you, along with his thick cock straining against the light fabric. You didn’t remember how you got in this position. But right now, you were completely at his mercy.

Sam chuckled darkly, looking at your wide, needy eyes. Pupils full with lust and a hidden desire behind them.

“You really are a slut.” He commented, noticing how your gaze was trained on the bulge in his boxers. He was obviously much, much larger than your boyfriend.

He pulled his cock out, your tongue lolling out. He smirked at your eagerness. He thought it was funny how he had you begging for him after trying to resist him a few minutes ago.

“You gonna suck it like a good girl? Hm?” You nodded, but he wanted words. He slapped your cheek and you let out a whine at his hand hitting your face.

“Answer. Me.”

“Y-Yes, Sir..” Your lips quivered, and he slid his cock in between your waiting parted lips. He groaned as he felt the warmth of your mouth surrounding him. But he held his composure.

“Suck.”

You had your hands behind your back, you knew better than to touch him. And you sucked on his tip first, before taking a half of him further in your throat. He felt your throat tighten.

“Use your hands.” He added, you lifted your hands to stroke the rest of his length as you eagerly bobbed your head. His rough fingertips brushing against your red cheek before he tangled them in your locks.

He then pushed your head further down his cock, he could hear the lewd noises of your gagging. And he smirked again. Your nose was pressed against his base. Tears welling up at your eyes as he held your head there for a few moments.

When he finally pulled you off, you gasped for air. But you were already missing his heavy cock on your tongue. You started to trail your tongue underneath his head of his dick. He groaned, tugging at your hair, making you look up at him.

“Don’t tease me, baby.. you don’t wanna be a bad girl, do you?” You whimpered, nodding your head before engulfing him in your mouth again. Moving your head at a steady pace, your hands reached back up to stroke the parts you couldn’t fit.

He let out a grunt, his hips bucked. Making you take more of him.

The sounds of your gagging around his cock were vulgar, but you still didn’t stop.

When he felt himself getting closer, he grabbed a fist of your hair firmly. Making you look back up at him. Your mascara was running down your cheeks, spit drooling down on your chin.

He chuckled, “You really are a cockdrunk, aren’t you? Can’t get enough of this big dick shoved down your throat? Is that it, Honey?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He grabbed your arm, forcing you to stand up as you tossed you on the bed. Your legs parted by his hands. You mewled at the cold air hitting your pussy.

He didn’t bother in prepping you, you were obviously fucking wet. Dripping like a goddamn faucet.

Before any warning, he plunged his cock into you. The current position he had you in, face down and ass up, had you thinking he was impossibly deep.

He smacked your left ass cheek before moving to the left one. Earning a cry from you.

“You’re gonna fucking take it, aren’t you, Sweetheart? Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy?” You moaned in response, and as much as he’d like to punish you, his cock throbbed for your tight cunt fluttering around him.

He began to thrust, pulling you up against his chest with his hand wrapped around your throat. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you feel just the right dizzy feeling.

The sound of his balls hitting your ass was loud. And your moans, your cries.. Whoever was within a few feet would probably think you were in pain. But oh, it was the complete opposite.

You sobbed out pleas, tears welling up in your eyes at his rough, relentless pace. He felt your pussy clench around his cock and he groaned.

“Fuck, you’re crying, baby? Crying because you can’t take it?” He teased, turning your head by your jaw to look at him.

“S-Sam.. I- I can’t- auh! You’re too big- please, I can’t-“ You sounded pathetic, your tears streaming down your cheeks. Sam couldn’t help but feel his cock pulse inside of you, a mix between a grunt and a growl escaping his lips as he fucked up into you.

“But you were begging for it, Honey.. Begging for my dick to spilt you open, right? You can take it.. You will take it.”

Fuck, he had you in a trance. He grunted when he felt your cunt flutter around him, signaling you were close. The room smelled of arousal, and the squelching sounds of his cock pounding your soaked pussy was obscene. Your cries got louder, his name falling from your lips in an attempt to get him to be more gentle. But he ignored them, sneaking his hand down to rub at your swollen bud as his other cupped your neck. Applying a new intimacy just by his rough treatment.

You were so close, so fucking close. He knew it.

“Pl-Please.. Can.. Can I cum? Can I cum- please, Sam!” You screamed when he slammed against that spongy spot that your own fingers couldn’t reach over and over again. You were crying, crying at the stimulation of it all.

“Fuck, you are a cockslut huh? So drunk on this big, thick dick stretching your little pussy open? C’mon.. make a mess on my cock.” You cried even louder, your eyes rolling back in your head. White streams of pleasure rushing to your core as you saw stars.

He fucked you even harder it seemed, and it felt good for the first few thrusts- but he didn’t seem to slow down. He was chasing his own impending orgasm.

The overstimulation was starting to sink in. His hand let go of your throat, turning your jaw to make you look at him. He watched as the tears streamed down your face.

Your lips swollen from his previous assault of kisses, and he once again smashed his lips against your own. Your mouth partinh instinctively to let him dominate the kiss with his tongue.

He knew he was gonna cum, and he wasn’t going to stop pounding your pussy until he did.

You knew better than to complain, but that didn’t stop your tears from flowing. Your pussy was still gushing down his length. He groaned again, his thrusts faltering as he whispered in your ear, “Fuck.. You’re gonna feel me for days, Everytime you look at Dean, you’re gonna remember this.. Remember how I made you feel. Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum, huh? You’d like it wouldn’t you? Fucking cumslut.”

You nodded, too fucking dazed to think about what he was about to do to you. How he was about to claim you.

“Y-Yeah- mm.. want you to fill my pussy, Sammy.. wanna be your good girl-“ You moaned, your body still wasn’t used to the overstimulation, but it was enjoyable. Even if you were gonna be sore for a week.

“That’s it- Fuuuuucckk.. take it- take it..” His hips stilled as he came, groaning as he watched your previous orgasm mix with his own.

He pulled his cock out from your hole carefully. And despite the mean demeanor from just a few moments ago, he still checked on you.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He questioned, tucking his softening cock back in his boxers.

“No.. it was perfect, Sam.” You managed a lazy smile, and he chuckled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[nanaslutt]

Geto def gets off to being called a pervert

I see the vision clear as day anon, i hope you enjoy<3

Geto is so dirty in this holy........

contains: fem reader, roomate!geto, panty thief, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, praise, accidental voyeurism, mating press, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), cum eating, geto is nasttyyyyyy, slight crack at the end, shoko makes an appearance :p

MDNI

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

“Suguru can I borrow that band tee you were wearing the other day? I’m about to go out with shoko.” you scrolled on some social media site on the sofa while you called out for your roommate in the kitchen.

Head hanging upside down off the armrest, looking at his naked back in your twisted view, waiting for his response.

Geto peeked his head briefly over his shoulder from the counter he faced, letting out a short laugh before he replied, wanting to ask if the ridiculous positions you came up with were actually comfortable.

Saving his smart remark for another day and responding that he didn’t care, followed by the location of the tshirt.

Picking up your body you placed one foot in front of the other, making quick work for his room, voice ringing out in the hall, “thanks!”

“Shoko said she’s heading here soon so I should probably start getting ready.” you shouted from his room, reaching for his second dresser drawer, where he said it would be.

Pulling the nob back and messing up his carefully folded clothes as you pulled out shirt after shirt, unfolding it to get a better view of the piece before shoving it back in when it ultimately wasn’t what you were looking for.

Eyebrows scrunching inwards when your sights landed on a piece of bright pink fabric shoved deep in the bottom of the drawer. Not remembering suguru ever wear anything like it, you pulled it out.

And you really don’t remember him wearing anything like this.

Because what you were holding between your fingers was your panties.

Jaw dropping slightly in disbelief, head turning back towards the doorway you just walked through, before snapping your neck back in front of you and digging deeper.

“Where are you guys going?” he questioned, yelling from the kitchen as he chopped up some vegetables, back facing the direction of his room.

A decent sized pile was forming of the undergarments you thought you had lost the deeper you looked. You were fuming.

Between Suguru and yourself, you divided the chores up evenly the day you moved in together. Him opting to be on laundry duty over trash, both splitting the dishes.

Never once did the thought even cross your mind that they might’ve been kidnapped by your usually sweet roommate; who is in charge of handling those same panties every day; when you were unable to find them anywhere in your space.

You scoffed in disbeleif at his antics, tongue poking the inside of your ckeek, making it bulge.

You heard him say your name from the kitchen when you didnt answer his question.

Wading up the thieved panties in your fist, you stormed out of his room. Stomping down the hall at a much hastier pace than before, his toned back once agains came into your view.

Geto paused his chopping, muscles in his body going rigid, because he swears you just threw something at his back.

Turning his body to face you, he looked down at the underwear at his feet, a smirk creeping onto his face when he drags his sights back up, making eye contact with your furious expression, brain racing with questions only he could answer.

"Whoops," he says, not an ounce of remorse in his tone. He could practically see the steam coming off of the top of your head when your face scrunched up in a scowl.

"What the fuck were you doing with my panties, do you have any idea how long I've been looking for some of those!?", he feels the anger in the air with your every word.

"You sure you want me to answer that?" he giggles, crossing his arms over his bulging pecs, letting the weight off one of his legs as he braced his lower back into the counter.

"Oh my god!" you shook your head, "you're such a fucking pervert!" you shouted.

"Woah, you don't even know what I did with them yet. Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions when you call me that, huh?" he retaliated, faux offense gracing his features before a more smug look took its place.

"There is no non..." throwing your hands up in search of the right word, "freaky explanation as to why you hid my PANTIES suguru!" Lip curled up in frustration again when laughed at your retort, “so I think my choice of words was fitting." you finished, referring to the name you called him.

"Haha! yeahh, you might be right." both hands dropped from his chest and slid into his pockets. "I wrapped them around my cock a couple of times when I was jerkin' off." An amused look sticking to his face when your jaw dropped in speechlessness, face turning completely red at his confession.

"Came all over the crotch of ur pretty panties too, pretended it was ur pussy." his big mouth continued spilling his dirty secrets out into the open air.

"Y-you," stuttering as you felt the air around you shifting into a heavier one, one that you both picked up on, heart racing in your chest matching the throbbing between your legs as you spoke, "pervert."

----

"F-fucking pervert, fuck!" you moaned into the air when his curved cock drilled perfectly into the most sensitive spot inside you for the nth time that evening.

Really hoping Shoko was taking her time as Suguru held your thighs open by your head, pushing your flexability to the limits as he bullied his thick cock inside your gushing pussy.

"Yeah? tell me how fucking nasty I am baby," he groaned with a smile. Eyes not being able to choose their favorite sight as he looked between where the two of you were connected; your cum making a ring form around the base of his cock; and your pretty drooling face that was looking so fucked out.

"S-so f-fucking disgusting for st-ealin' my dirty panties sugu-ru." words getting broken up by your pleasured moans as he brought his hips back till just the tip of his cock was caught on the rim of your little hole, before fucking it back in with such force it made you dizzy.

"C-cant believe you would d-o that." whining loudly when his thick thumb came down to rub circles into your throbbing bud.

Geto felt a tingling sensation of pleasure jolt through his spine at your harsh words, "M' sorry baby," he lied between his teeth, "got tired of seein’ ur cute little ass walk around the house in basically nothing." cooing at you when you squeezed your cunt tightly around his length at his filthy words, "h-had to do something about it,"

The both of you bounced against the bed as you let out loud Ah's and curses in response to his mean thrusts.

"Nothin' compares to this tho," Geto smiled, rubbing your clit faster when he noticed it made you tighten up your pussy, "Fucking ur pretty little pussy like this is so much better than my fist 'n holdin' ur panties against my face."

"S-suguru thats so nas-tyyy." you drawled out when he picked up his pace, fucking into you with such force and speed you thought you were gonna pass out.

Leaning his body into yours, practically crushing you with his weight with your legs dangling over his shoulders, he brought his face just inches from yours, lips grazing each others at his rough thrusts jolting you both around.

"Is it?" he replied to your declaration, opening his mouth and moaning against your lips before he closed the distance, " Felt so fucking good tho," he laughed against you, pushing his tongue into your mouth, his groans mixing with your squeals.

Less of a kiss and more of him just crushing his jaw into your own as he overwhelmed you with his tongue. Greedily inhaling your moans into his lungs as he continued his assult on your sensitive clit.

"Sugu' 'm gonna cum, fuck-" you mumbled against his wet lips. His own high-creeping rapidly up on him, feeling his balls tighten as they slapped against your ass.

"Me too baby m-me too," eyes squeezing together and eyebrows furrowing, thumb against your clit becoming sloppy as he started to lose himself, "gonna let this pervert fill you up, huh?" he babbled, breaking the kiss and buring his head in the crook of your neck while he messily sucked and kissed the skin there.

"Gonna take a-all my fucking cum like a good girl?" his moans raising in pitch, goosebumbs forming on the back of his neck hearing your loud whines and moans go straight into his ear.

"P-please, give it to me, please." you begged, "fu-ck, c-coming," you managed to voice before your cunt constricted around him, squelching noises increasing when your pussy forced your orgasm out around him, "oh m-y go-d" you repeated as he fucked you through it.

Getting thrown into overstimulation as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, not being able to move his thumb off your clit, or even voice him to do so, "cum inside me sugu-ru," you whimpered into his ear, helping him reach his end. Squealing at his rough thrusts losing their once steady pace when he came.

He bit down hard on your neck, groaning and whining into the skin as he fucked his cum into your womb. Timing his heavy thrusts with the ropes of warm seed spurting out of his dick, pressing his balls hard into your ass each time he did, making sure he really filled you up.

Geto’s eyes rolled back in his head feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm spasm around his twitching dick, milking him for all he was worth. "holy shittt." you voiced at how full he was making you feel.

Your overstimulation died down when his brain was no longer able to function well enough to remind him to play with your clit, something you were grateful for.

He silently lifted his head from the crook of your neck and pulled his incredibly sensitive cock out of your warmth. Staring between the two of you to watch his cum drip out of you, his mouth watering.

Your own arm being draped over your face while you tried to catch your breath, blocking you from seeing his next moves.

Holding your legs up and spread by your calves, he leaned down to your pussy and started sucking on your folds.

Caught off gaurd at the simulation you shot your hands down to his head, trying to push him off you at the intense feeling of his fat tongue on your mound.

He forced his tongue into the tight ring of your cunt, greedily drinking up your combined cum and moaning at the taste. Your thighs twitched with the need to shut around his head at the vibration.

Detaching his mouth from your pussy with a 'pop' he sat back on his heels, your calves still in his large palms as he stared at your abused pussy, licking his lips clean.

"So much fucking tastier than your panties." He grinned.

"You really are disgusting Suguru." Shaking your head against the sheets as he finally let your legs drop back down to the mattress.

"Careful, my cock likes when you talk to me like that." He teases, meaning every word as he tucks his drenched cock back into his boxers,

"Whatever, take me to the bathroom please." You said, ignoring his previous comment, "Cant stand and I need to pee." Holding your arms out to him.

He giggled at your dramatics; even tho he really did fuck the strength out of your legs; scooping his palms under your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He raised you from the bed in a princess cradle and started walking you to the bathroom, "You need to learn how to take it easy. Seriously." you chastised, noticing the bruises and bite marks on your neck when you walked past a mirror, "If this is how you're going to treat me when we fuck, you're better off sticking to stealing my panties, at least they won't feel what you do to them." you complained, only partially meaning your words, which he knew.

"Don't act like your pussy doesn't throb when you see how I marked you up." you rolled your eyes at his retort, making it to the bathroom that neighbors a wall with the kitchen. He placed you down on the seat of the toilet before backing up and leaning against the doorway, facing the doorframe parallel to him as he let you do your business.

"I just had to listen to you guys fuck each other like rabbits for ten minutes, please don't make me listen to you dirty talk each other outside of the bedroom too."

You knew that voice.

"Shoko! good to see you, didn't realize you made yourself at home." Geto snarkily remarked.

"Your pretty roomie gave me a key you big oaf, now go hide in your room for awhile kay?" she brushed her hand in the air, signaling him to fuck off, "Was suposed to take her out but its sounding like you broke her legs so.. well just watch a movie here." she sighed.

Geto brought his attention back to you once more. He had to fight back the laugh burning in his lungs when he saw your crimson face buried in your hands, shinji posing on the toilet in embarrassment.

Stupid fucking panty thief.

“pt.2” here

[skbeaumont]

Joel Miller is whimpering.

You’re grinding down on his cock, legs straddling his waist, hands buried in the grown-out hair that curls at the base of his neck and he’s whimpering into your ear, a desperate, breathy sound that reverberates in his chest and makes your cunt clench around him. Every sound he makes is delicious, a symphony of sin that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“So good for me,” he breathes into the side of your neck, teeth barely grazing your throat, “perfect little cunt squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

He grips your ass, thick fingers digging into your flesh so firmly that you’re sure they’ll leave marks, little fingerprint bruises that you’ll carry with you for the rest of the week. You cant your hips, dragging your slick-covered core against him, and he makes the same sound again, the whimper spilling out of him, unbidden.

“Fuck, baby,” he keens, “got me moaning like a g’damn whore.”

He picks up the pace then, tries to wrest back control, slamming his hips up into yours. All it takes is one circle of your hips, though, and he stills, stomach muscles contracting with effort of not coming right there and then. He squeezes his eyes shut, sweat beading between the thick tendrils of the curls on his forehead as he lets out a shaky breath through his nose.

“Gonna kill me, darlin’” he tells you, opening his eyes onto yours, his pupils blown wide, “y’should have a fuckin’ health warning attached.”

This makes you laugh, a high giggle that Joel mirrors, his own lip curving up into a half-grin. You raise yourself in his lap again, feel the delicious stretch of his cock inside you, pulling half out and then sinking back down. Two more slow circles of your hips, hardly a movement at all but the combination of it and the sweet clench of your cunt and Joel’s swearing again, hissing a desperate breath out through his teeth this time, the blunt edges of his fingernails now pressed against the flesh of your hips. One more circle and he comes undone beneath you, cock twitching inside you, his jaw dropping with the sweet shock of it.

"Jesus fuck, baby," he gasps as you rock gently against him, drawing out his orgasm, the last whimper falling against your own lips when you lean down to kiss him.

He might be the one man in Jackson everyone’s afraid of, the guy lots of folk will cross the road to avoid bumping into, but when you’re in his lap, naked and writhing, Joel Miller’s nothing more than a whimpering fool.

[gunksh1t]

Holding a pretty boy's legs around my head as I eat him out until his boycunt is sore and he's made a mess on my face and he's breathless. Making him cum until he can barely speak and says my name like a prayer. Making him promise he'll stay all mine and all mine forever while his head is empty. Make him think of nothing but me and the pleasure only i can give him.

Pampering my boy like he deserves, sucking his fat, stubby tcock, feeling how perfect it is in my mouth. sloppily making out with his hole and drinking him up. Peppering kissed on his dick and thighs between orgasms.

Shallowly fucking his hole with my tongue until he's desperate and needy and bucking his hips all over again. Flattening my tongue against his lil dick and letting him ride my face until he cums again and drained himself out.

He's half asleep and still gripping my head between his legs, tiredly grinding into my mouth and he can barely take anything more but he feels so good he can't think of doing anything else and he's so pretty and sweet you don't wanna stop him.

[almond-tofuuu]

Do it for me...

Zayne x fem! Reader smut

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, porn without plot (this is pure smutty goodness), PiV sex, nipple play, cervix fucking, soft dom! Zayne, consensual sex (bc asking for consent is hot af), cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, creampie, raw sex (wrap it up ppl), sex on a desk, Zayne's fat cock (bc that shi needs its own warning label)

Lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 2.9k (I am so sorry)

Thinking about Zayne

His pupils blown wide with lust, chest heaving with every breath he takes, icy hand gently but firmly holding your chin in place, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his other hand explores your body. Cold fingers gliding so softly over your exposed collar bones, making your skin tingle and goose bumps forming in the wake of his fingertips. His eyes locked on yours as his hand travels lower, following the valley between your breasts, stopping just under the curve of your left breast, fingers toying with the lace of your bra.

"May I?" His voice is low and husky, breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head, desperate to feel his cold hands on your bare skin again, but he doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest.

"That's not how this works, darling, if you want something you're going to have to tell me" he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours, teasing you but not giving you what you want "Go on, use your words, I'll give you whatever you want, just be a good girl and tell me what you need."

His words, so full of promise and dripping with desire spark a fire within you, a heat that radiates down to your core. Swallowing down the last of your anxiety, your eyes meet his own, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to stumble over your words.

"Please Zayne....I need you... need you to touch me...need to feel you, please-"

Your pleading is cut off by Zayne's mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss, his hand that was previously holding your chin now tangling into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips devour yours. His tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance which you willingly grant, allowing him to explore your mouth. At the same time his other hand has made quick work of removing your bra, now kneading your left breast in his large hand, cold fingers pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardens before moving onto your right breast to give it the same attention. Reaching up you grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to ground yourself, fingers burying themselves into the fabric of his doctors coat, tugging at it slightly. Zayne pulls away for a moment, chuckling at the adorable neediness of the gesture.

"What's the matter? Do you not like my coat anymore?" You know by the small smirk on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes that he's teasing you, know that he wants you to tell him exactly what it is you want.

"Want you to take it off, 's not fair that I'm sat here shirtless and you're still fully clothed" you mumble with a small pout on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hmm You're right, allow me to correct my error" Zayne's eyes remain focused on yours as he shrugs his doctors coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of his office with a soft thump. However, you're still not satisfied, wanting to see more of him, so you grab onto his tie, pulling him closer to you so you can get to work on removing his shirt. Zayne is quick to stop you, large hands engulfing yours, halting their movement as he leans down to peer into your face.

"If your hands keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots" although his tone isn't harsh, there's a quiet dominance to his words, almost like he's challenging you to keep going. And you're not one to back down from a challenge, so you tug on his tie again, bringing his face closer to yours, trailing soft kisses along his jaw before you whisper seductively into his ear,

"Is that a promise, Doctor Zayne?"

Before you can even react Zayne has you laid on your back on his desk, one strong hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other loosening his tie further as his imposing form towers over you.

"It would seem that someone can't control their hands, perhaps I should teach you a lesson, maybe then you'll be more obedient" as he speaks Zayne takes his tie and uses it to restrain your hands, his movements quick and precise, being careful not to tie the knot too tight but enough to limit your movement.

"That's much better, now be a good girl for me and stay still" satisfied with his work Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a quick and passionate kiss before moving onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, spurred on by the soft moans spilling from you. He then moves lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collar bones and between your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue around one of your hardened nipples before taking it in his mouth, his free hand coming up to tease the other. He repeats his movements on your other breast, not wanting to neglect it and relishing the way you whine and how your back arches up into him. Once he's done toying with your nipples, Zayne resumes his path downwards, lips and tongue leaving behind a wet trail on your stomach as he stops at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I remove these as well, love?" He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, needing to hear that you want this.

"Yes, please Zayne, need you" this time you're quick to respond, your body feeling hot as the tension builds in your core becomes nearly unbearable, needing to feel some kind of relief.

Zayne gives you an approving smile, obviously pleased with your response, his hands moving to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and removing both your jeans and panties in one go. Seeing you completely bare beneath him, your soaked cunt on full display, Zayne let's out a deep groan, whispering a soft "fuck" under his breath as he takes in the sight of you. The feeling of his piercing eyes on your exposed pussy is too much for you and you close your legs subconsciously, trying to shy away from him. But Zayne simply grips onto your thighs, prying them apart and slotting his hips in-between them.

"Don't hide away from me, love, you're beautiful, each and every part of you is perfect." His voice is soft and full of adoration, letting you know he means every word, that he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And you do believe him, because the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you makes you feel so special. His hands give a light squeeze on your thighs, holding them in place as he lowers his head to plant soft kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your right thigh, nibbling every so often, inching closer and closer to where you need him most before switching over to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment. You buck your hips up, a desperate whine leaving you as you plead with him, "please stop teasing...wanna feel you... Can't take it anymore"

Zayne let's out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your weeping cunt, "very well, you've been a good girl so far, I suppose you do deserve a reward"

And with that Zayne dives into your glistening pussy, tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, repeating the motion several times as you writhe in pleasure beneath him. One of his strong hands moves to firmly hold down your hips, the other begins to play with your clit as his tongue delves inside your dripping hole.

"You taste so sweet, I may have just found my new favourite desert" he lets out a low moan of satisfaction that vibrates against your pussy, his mouth latching onto you again as he drives his tongue further inside you, lapping up all the juices leaking out of you. The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his tongue inside you has your thighs quivering and locking around his head, back arching off his desk as moans fall freely from your lips. Your hands, still bound together by his tie, reach down and tangle themselves in his hair, tugging slightly causing Zayne to groan into your cunt. He eats you out like a man starved, drinking down every drop of the juices flowing from inside you, his nose bumping against your clit adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching when you feel Zayne's tongue leaving your pussy only to be replaced by two of his long, slender fingers, he slides them inside you easily, making a scissoring motion as his mouth latches onto your clit.

"Zayne... gon- ngh! Gonna cum!" You manage to stutter out between moans, your cunt clenching tighter around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing as he curls them to hit the spot deep inside your cunt that has you seeing stars.

"Go ahead, love, cum for me" he mumbles his encouragement into your cunt, the added vibrations sending you over the edge as your orgasm hits you full force, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as you soak his hand and the lower part of his face. Zayne works you through your high, not stopping his movements until you push his head away, the over sensitivity becoming too much. You lie there catching your breath, looking down shyly you meet Zayne's gaze as he rises from between your legs, and he looks like pure sin. His eyes have darkened with lust, the bottom half of his face glistening with your juices, a smirk rests on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. It's the most erotic sight you've ever witnessed, and it has your cunt throbbing in anticipation.

"Do you wish to continue, love? I need you to tell me now if you've had enough, because once I start I'm not going to stop until I've ruined you for every other man" his voice is steady but there's a hint of tension behind his words, as if he's fighting hard to maintain control of himself, trying to keep his ever stoic demeanor intact. In a sudden burst of courage, you reach down and palm his painfully hard cock as it strains against the front of his dress pants, causing a low moan to resonate from deep in his chest. His hips involuntarily buck into your hand, his eyes fluttering closed as he allows himself indulge in the feeling of your warm hands as they stroke his cock.

"I want this, Zayne, want you" your whisper to him sweetly, hands unbuttoning the front of his pants, pulling down his underwear and freeing his gorgeous cock, letting it slap against his toned abdomen. It's thick and lengthy, pale with a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft, pearly beads of precum leak out from the tip that's a few shades darker then the rest of his cock. You've never thought of using the word 'beautiful' to describe a cock before, but his truly was a sight to behold, enough to make your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. You shuffle forward in an attempt to get off his desk, ready to sink to your knees and worship him the same way he did you, but Zayne's firm grasp on your chin halts your movement. You blink up at him in confusion, worried that you may have done something wrong, but the lust clouding his eyes and desire dripping like honey from his voice tells you otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to indulge in feeling that pretty mouth of yours, I'm afraid I can't wait that long. I need to take you, now. So be a good girl and lay back down for me"

Licking your lips, you do as you're told, resuming your previous position, the cool surface of his desk pleasant against your flushed skin. Zayne stands between your open legs, one hand resting on your thigh, the other takes hold of his thick length, guiding it through your slick folds, coating his shaft in your wetness, the tip nudging your clit with every slow thrust. Once he's satisfied that his cock is lubed up enough with your juices, Zayne positions himself at the entrance to your cunt, the tip prodding at the tight hole causing a near pathetic whimper of need to fall from your lips.

"Apologies in advance, love, I'll try to be gentle" and with that Zayne slowly enters you, his thick shaft stretching out your tight pussy, the steady, shallow thrusts allowing you to feel every delicious inch as he works you open until he's buried to the hilt. A shaky exhalation leaves Zayne's lips followed by a quiet "fuck" whispered under his breath, his eyes closed briefly as he revels in the feeling of finally being inside you, feeling your drenched cunt throbbing and clenching so nicely around his cock. He wants to be gentle, wants to take his time with you and keep true to his words.

But Zayne is only a man, and like all men he has a breaking point, and the sight of you laid beneath him, half-lidded eyes locked onto his, mouth hung open as you moaned his name in ecstasy, soaked cunt throbbing so perfectly around his cock was just too much for him. His self control that was hanging by a thread finally snapped, he began pounding his cock into you like a man possessed, driving his length deeper and deeper inside of your sensitive hole, the fat tip hitting your cervix with every rough thrust. Broken moans flow from you, combining with the rhythmic slapping of skin and wet squelching of your pussy, it creates a sinful melody that's practically pornographic, it would be enough to make your cheeks burn if your brain could actually focus on anything other than the delicious drag of Zayne's cock as he ruts into you. Meanwhile, the man above you has lost all composure, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he drives his length into you, his rough thrusts enough to cause the desk below you to scrape across the floor. Somewhere, deep in your fucked-out brain you register the tightening of the coil in your lower stomach, knowing your orgasm is near, you try to warn Zayne, although it's difficult to form any kind of coherent thought with how good he's drilling into you.

"Z-zayne.... Aghh! gonna....mmh...gonna cum!" You manage to whimper out between moans, your eyes closing as you throw your head back, body arching up off the desk as his cock hits the spongey spot deep inside your pussy, causing you to clench even harder around him. Zayne brings one hand up to tilt you face to look at him, his eyes held an almost predatory glint as they locked onto yours.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love, I want to watch as you fall apart" his words came out breathy and low, a deep groan rumbling up from the back of his throat, his hips never stopping their brutal pace, icy fingers coming up to play with your clit, rubbing figure eights into it as his heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust. It's all too much, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him. His cool fingers on your clit, his piercing eyes boring into yours, his musky scent surrounding you, deep groans and warm breath fanning over your face, and his hard cock moulding your pussy to his shape. Your orgasm is blinding, your body convulsing and cunt spasming erratically around his length, squirting your release all over his toned abdomen as your vision turns white. A high-pitched moan leaving you followed by the chanting of his name, whispered almost like a prayer as he consumed your thoughts. Zayne doesn't stop, his thrusts speeding up as his own is release fast approaching, but he doesn't even realise, too focused on you. Watching intensely as you come undone beneath him, wanting to remember every second, every moan, every facial expression. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's cumming, hips stuttering before burying himself deep inside you, a broken groan of your name falling from his lips, cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your pussy with his thick, creamy seed. He continues to shallowly rock into your spent pussy, feeling how your cunt milks his cock for every last drop of cum.

His strong arms rest on either side of your head, holding him up as he pants heavily, sweat-covered forehead resting against yours as you both bask in the afterglow of your release. Zayne Is the first to move, pulling back slightly he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he takes in your fucked-out form below his. He can't help but be entranced by how beautiful you look, skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath, cheeks flushed as you come down from your high. To him, you look absolutely ethereal, and he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face, because finally, after so many years of wanting and waiting, you're his.

[avid-1reader]

Yandere! Gym crush x fm reader

Warnings- Pervy thoughts, non come touching, stalking, nsfw, smut, disgusting yandere behaviour

💪yandere! Gym crush would had been obsessed with you for weeks, it got to the point where as soon as you stopped using a piece of equipment he would immediately go on it trying to savour the warmth your body had emitted. He would delight in feeling and even tasting the sweat left on the machine from your body, it would leave him so hard and needy for you.

💪Yandere! Gym crush who slowly started talking to you and inserting himself into your life, he would buy you your favourite energy drink just to use it as an excuse to talk to you. Or he would insistently ask you if you needed a spotter, if you said yes he would get so excited (both emotionally and physically). Relishing in the feeling of your sweaty body so close to his own. After you were done, he would rush off to the bathrooms to rank off to the image off your half naked body glistening with sweat. Moaning your name as he came all over his hands, thinking to himself ‘what a waste you should be here to clean up his mess’

💪Yandere! Gym crush who would purposely trap you in the locker room with him, his hand would be locking you in against the wall while the other rested gently on your neck. He would lean in and whisper while taking your hand to rest on his hard cock “this is all your fault, you need to fix it darling”.

After getting over your shock you would slowly start to palm his cock and, with his encouragement, slip your hand into his shorts and start to jerk him off. While you were doing this, he would trace a million kisses down your neck and towards your voluptuous chest.

With a jerky motion your sports bra was ripped off and he was immediately on you, sucking your nipples into his warm mouth. You moaned in delight while taking his dick out of his shorts fully now to grind your soaked pussy against it.

Having enough of your teasing, he ripped off your leggings and slammed his hard cock into your tights cunt, moaning like crazy as he did so “ah baby you’re so tight”. Snapping his hips back fast, he fucked into you like his life depended on it while whispering “you’re mine, mine to fuck, mine to touch, mine to look after, fucking mine.” You were too cock drunk to even comprehend what he was saying, only having the capability to nod along and say “faster I need faster”

[lambmotifz]

a little rec list of vintage wincest fics

exclusively bottom!sam because we’re all starving for bottom!sam content

undertow by Mollyamory (angels, demons, zombies, an apocalypse or two — whatever, fine. telling truth to blood, though. that’s scary.)

traded your worth for these scars by nyxocity (coda to lazarus rising. sam needs to be sure dean’s really back.)

just this by mickeym (this is his favorite thing, his favorite place, in the world: on his knees in front of his brother.)

penance by nyxocity (post lucifer rising. sam feels like he needs to be punished and begs dean to do it for him.)

from the inside by nu_breed (it’s like all the stupid competitions they had when they were kids, trying to outdo each other. but this time, dean isn’t willing to lose.)

roadside assistance by De_Nugis (sam can’t sleep after 5.19. dean tries a radical solution to the problem.)

raining down on us by wednesday_d (perfect “dean fucks sam on the hood of the impala” fic ♡)

until you come back to me by wednesday_d (it took days, weeks, months, but they learned each other. again. and it seemed they liked what they got. nothing will take it away from them. so screw the apocalypse.)

[quinzzelx]

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I���" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy.  As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of  need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt."  As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

[romugh]

TWO OF A KIND - NR

ROMUGH’S KINKTOBER

october 2nd — cloned pleasure, double penetration

DAY TWO || kinktober masterlist || 2024.

pairing- avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!scarletwitch!avenger!reader

cw- 18+!!; dom!top!reader + clone lol, sub!bottom!natasha, double penetration, mommy kink (reader), daddy kink (clone), breeding, creampie (i'm not sorry), all kinds of positions icl, strappie (r wearing), blowie (clone rcv?), thigh job!! , rough, crying (n). pure porn actually, no plot at all. i think those are all the warnings... CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT THESE LOL; anal, dp in 1, dp in 2 !!

wc- 11.198k ;)

a/n- i'm sorry but i genuinely could NOT read this a second time to truly finish editing, so there's possibilities of repetition (although i tried to catch any while i wrote and re-read the first time) :') catching up tho, let's gooo!! beware of the warnings!!!!!!!! ;) also, russian translations from google translate, i didn't want to ask my friend! (sorry)

prompts- cloned pleasure, double penetration

synopsis- filth. i'll think about this later, but this is PURE PORN.

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel, @idkwhatever580, @elliecoochieeater, @left-and-right-up-and-down, @deadlesbianwitches

The mission had gone sideways fast. You were supposed to be in and out, a quick retrieval of stolen intel buried deep in enemy territory. But now, the safehouse was your only option. Snow crunched underfoot as you and Natasha hurried through the dimly lit forest, the cold biting through even your tactical gear. The tension between you had been brewing long before the mission, but now it was thick, unavoidable, and simmering beneath the surface.

You stole a glance at Natasha, her breath visible in the freezing air, the tight lines of her jaw a sure sign she was on edge. She was used to dangerous missions, but this one had pushed both of you. You hadn’t even needed to speak; the way her green eyes darted to you for assurance told you everything. She trusted you—but something else lingered there too, something unspoken.

Finally, the safehouse came into view, barely visible through the dense trees. It was nothing more than a tiny cabin, hidden away, off the grid. It looked worn and uninviting, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. The door creaked as you forced it open, ushering Natasha inside before taking one last look at the surrounding forest. No movement. No signs of pursuit—for now.

Inside, the temperature was hardly any better. You rubbed your hands together, fingers still tinged black from the magic you’d used during the mission. Natasha’s gaze flicked to your hands for a brief moment, and you could see the curiosity in her eyes mingling with the tension. You were trying to suppress it, trying to hide the way the Darkhold’s magic was affecting you, but it wasn’t that easy.

The room was dim, illuminated only by the pale light filtering through the cracks in the walls. There were no blankets or supplies in sight, and the chill of the air seeped into your bones. You felt the weight of the atmosphere around you—a mix of adrenaline from the mission and an underlying current of something more intimate, more personal.

“What are you thinking?” you asked, your voice softer than the situation warranted, as if the space between you held more than just cold air.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, glancing at your hands. “I’m thinking we barely made it out.”

Your hands still glowed faintly, and Natasha’s gaze drifted back to them. Her lips pressed into a thin line, like she was holding back a question. “And?” You raised a brow, knowing she wouldn’t let it slide.

A beat of silence passed before Natasha spoke again, her voice low. “And I’m wondering how much control you still have over that power.”

There it was—the elephant in the room. The Darkhold had started to leave its mark, changing you in ways even you didn’t fully understand. But the question hanging in the air wasn’t just about the mission. It was about the tension between you and Natasha, a tension that had been building for longer than you cared to admit.

You stood up, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps. “I can control it when I need to.”

Natasha didn’t flinch as you approached, her gaze steady. But there was something else there now, beneath the surface—a curiosity that went beyond concern. “And when you don’t?” she murmured.

You were standing close now, the cold air swirling around you, but the heat between the two of you was undeniable. The soft sound of your breath filled the silence as you lifted your hand, watching the way Natasha’s breath hitched when your fingers hovered near her cheek. The magic wasn’t meant to feel like this—intimate, charged. It was dark, unpredictable, but when it was just the two of you, it felt like something else. Something almost seductive.

Natasha’s chest rose and fell a little faster, but her expression was unreadable. “You should rest,” she said finally, breaking the spell for a moment, stepping back just a fraction.

“I will,” you said.

Without waiting for permission, you reached out, cupping her chin gently between your fingers. Her skin was cold, but she didn’t pull away, her eyes fixed on yours as your blackened fingertips brushed along her jawline. There was an intensity in her gaze, a spark of something that told you she wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted you to believe.

You leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Natasha’s response came with a pause, as if surprised you even had to ask, but it was clear. “I do.”

You let the weight of her words settle for a moment before releasing her chin, stepping back. “Good. Because I’m going to need you to trust me a little more tonight.”

Her brows furrowed in the slightest way, but she didn’t ask any further questions. She simply nodded, watching you as you began preparing the small space for the night, making sure you had everything set in place. The chill in the air was oppressive, and without the option of fire, the only warmth you could find would have to be shared.

As the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you again, her thoughts trailing in a direction neither of you had fully addressed yet. Something in her demeanour shifted, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it—the faintest flicker of something more than tension, more than concern.

You stood up, crossing the small space between you and Natasha. Her eyes followed your movements carefully, the tension between you palpable, the unsaid words swirling in the air like the winter chill outside.

“Strip,” you said simply, voice calm but firm, as if you were giving a casual order rather than a command.

Natasha blinked at you, her eyes widening slightly. For a split second, she looked genuinely taken aback, her brow furrowing in surprise. But then, just as quickly, her lips curled into a smirk, eyes narrowing with amusement. “Wow,” she teased, the playful glint in her eyes unmistakable. “You usually ask that in a much sweeter manner.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to turn a serious moment into an opportunity for teasing. You crossed your arms, raising a brow at her as if to say, Really?

With a dramatic sigh, you played along, voice oozing with mock sincerity. “Oh, dearest Natasha, kindly remove that lovely head of yours from the gutter and take off your clothes,” you drawled, playfully sarcastic.  “We’re going to cuddle for body warmth.”

Natasha’s smirk grew, a laugh escaping her as she shook her head. “Body warmth, huh?”

“That’s right,” you replied, keeping your expression straight. “I’m freezing, you’re freezing, and this room isn’t going to get any warmer on its own.”

Natasha didn’t argue, though the teasing glint never left her eyes. She hesitated for a moment longer, clearly savouring the small power she held by keeping you waiting. Then, slowly, she began to unzip her tactical gear, slipping out of the layers of fabric one by one.

Your eyes stayed on her the entire time, trying to maintain a neutral expression, but it was impossible not to feel the rising heat between you. Each movement she made was deliberate, almost calculated, as if she were drawing out the moment. She peeled off her jacket and tossed it aside, her lithe, toned arms finally free from the constraints of her gear.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the practicality of the situation, but it was difficult to ignore the effect she was having on you. Natasha knew what she was doing, and the fact that she didn’t rush made it worse—made it more intimate.

When she finally stood in just her undergarments, Natasha tilted her head, her lips still quirked in that infuriating smirk. “Better?”

“Almost,” you replied, gesturing for her to continue.

Natasha arched a brow but didn’t complain. With one last teasing glance, she slipped her hands behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your breath caught for a moment, but you tried to keep your reaction under control. The tension between you was palpable now, both of you fully aware of what this moment could lead to, but also silently agreeing not to push it—yet.

As she finally rid herself of the last of her clothing, Natasha stood in front of you, bare and completely unbothered by the situation. She seemed to thrive on your attention, that mischievous glint still in her eye, as though daring you to take the next step.

You let out a small, satisfied hum and gave a playful shake of your head. “There we go. Much better.”

Natasha folded her arms over her chest, looking at you expectantly. “And what about you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “So eager, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, but you weren’t about to let her take complete control of the moment. With a flick of your fingers, the magical tendrils from the Darkhold flickered to life, glowing just faintly enough to catch Natasha’s attention. She looked your now bare body up and down before she glanced down at your hands, her teasing grin fading ever so slightly, her gaze lingering on the blackened tips of your fingers.

You stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from her body. “Lie down,” you instructed softly, your voice low but with just enough authority to remind her of the situation. “We’re keeping each other warm, remember?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow but complied, sinking onto the bare, cold wooden floor of the cabin. The slight chill in the air contrasted sharply with the warmth you both radiated, and the tension between you only seemed to intensify. You couldn’t deny the way your pulse quickened as you settled down beside her, the two of you fitting together perfectly in the small space.

As you lay down, Natasha nestled against your side, her head resting comfortably on your shoulder. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a blend of cold air and the heat radiating off her body. You draped an arm around her, pulling her closer as she shifted to find the perfect position.

“Is this warm enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, and you felt her smile against your skin.

“Maybe spooning would be better,” she replied, her tone teasing but laced with warmth.

Your fingers traced featherlight patterns along her side, grazing just beneath her breast, teasing but never fully touching. Each brush of your blackened fingertips left her shivering slightly, though not from the cold. You chuckled softly before turning on your side, urging Natasha to do the same.

You could feel it—how her pulse quickened beneath your hand, the subtle rise and fall of her chest betraying her attempts to maintain composure. The steady rhythm of her breathing was interspersed with small, sharp intakes, and you knew, despite her silence, that she was feeling every inch of you pressed against her.

Your lips grazed her neck again, a soft kiss lingering there just long enough to make her squirm slightly. "You're a little tense," you whispered, voice low and smooth, your breath warm against her skin.

Natasha let out a quiet hum, but it was clear she was biting back a response, the teasing dance between you reaching a breaking point. You felt the shift in her body—the way she subconsciously arched her back, pressing herself harder into you. She was holding on, keeping herself in check, but her body couldn’t lie.

You smirked against her neck. "I thought we were just keeping warm."

"We are," Natasha breathed, though the words came out softer than intended, her voice laced with a tension she was no longer hiding.

You let your hand drift lower, tracing the curve of her waist, your fingertips brushing just above her hipbone, teasing but not giving in to the desire thrumming between you. "Just warm enough?"

"Maybe a little more than warm," Natasha admitted, her tone finally breaking, betraying her carefully constructed facade.

You smiled, pressing akiss to her shoulder, and felt her body shudder beneath the light touch. "That's what I thought."

And just like that, you let the magic pulse faintly through your fingertips. It was gentle at first, a slow, humming energy that wound itself around Natasha, barely noticeable but unmistakable in the way her breath hitched, her body stiffening for just a moment.

You felt the shift in the air almost immediately, the familiar, dark energy surging within you. You didn’t need to speak for the magic to do your bidding—it understood you, knew you. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you felt the conjured presence materialise in the room, and you watched Natasha stiffen at the sound of the door creaking open.

Her wide eyes snapped to the doorway, her breath catching as she saw the silhouette standing there.

A perfect replica of you, standing in the shadows, watching the two of you on the cold hard floor.

Natasha sat up slightly, her wide eyes flicked back to you, then back to your clone, trying to make sense of the impossible situation. Her chest heaved as she breathed faster, confusion mingling with something far more dangerous. You could see it—how her body betrayed her. How the sheer wrongness of it, the shock, only added to the electric tension.

“Wha—” she started, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled and pulled her back down, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” you murmured. “She’s not here to hurt you.”

Natasha didn’t reply, her gaze glued to the clone standing ominously at the edge of the room. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping her lips. You heard it—the quiet sound she tried to suppress, and you felt it, too. The way her hips pressed down harder onto your thigh, her body reacting instinctively to the overwhelming mix of shame and arousal coursing through her veins. You seized the moment of her confusion, letting your fingers slip down to collect the slickness that had begun pooling between her folds.

Your smirk widened. “You’re fine,” you soothed, though the heat in your voice told a different story. “She’ll do whatever I say, Natasha. Whatever I want.”

As if to prove a point, you brought your fingers—blackened and wet from Natasha’s arousal—up to her lips. Her eyes flicked to your hand, and another soft whimper escaped her, louder this time. The sight of her own slickness glistening on your fingers was too much for her to hide behind that carefully built exterior. She parted her lips, breath shaky, as you hovered your fingers in front of her mouth.

“Look at how wet you are,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing. “You see that?”

Natasha's gaze remained fixed on your fingers, her lips trembling as she nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of herself on you. You let her watch for a moment longer before slowly slipping one finger between her parted lips, pressing it against her tongue. Natasha’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft, muffled moan escaping her as she tasted herself on your skin.

“Good girl,” you purred, withdrawing your finger slowly, tracing it along her bottom lip. The tension in the room was thick now, Natasha’s breathing shallow, her body writhing slightly in your grasp, torn between the embarrassment of the clone’s presence and the growing arousal she couldn’t ignore.

You turned your attention back to the clone, watching the way it stood perfectly still, awaiting your command. The dark magic swirled within it, just as it did within you, and the power surged through your veins, intoxicating. You could feel the pull, the desire to let it go, to let the clone take what it wanted from Natasha—but not yet.

You had to keep control. For now.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against Natasha’s ear once more. “She’ll be rougher with you,” you murmured, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “But she won’t do anything I don’t allow. You understand?”

Natasha’s breath hitched again, her hips grinding back against you, and she nodded quickly, her body trembling with anticipation. She was barely holding on, the shame and desire mixing in her veins, making her weak.

“Good,” you whispered, pulling her tighter against you. Without waiting for her response, you slid your fingers back into her mouth, the warmth enveloping them as her lips wrapped around you instinctively. You could feel her tongue swirl around your fingers, soft and eager, heightening the sensations that danced along your skin. Each suck sent a thrill coursing through you, a delicious reminder of the effect you had on her.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with desire. You revelled in the sight of her losing herself in the moment, her eyes fluttering closed, surrendering fully to the sensations swirling around her. The taste of her slickness mingled with the heat radiating from your body, intoxicating her further.

Her muffled moans vibrated against your fingers, sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. You could feel your own arousal growing, tightening low in your belly as you marvelled at how completely and utterly she surrendered to you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you breathed, entranced by her wordless response. You moved your fingers in and out of her mouth, slow and deliberate, enjoying the way she lost herself in the rhythm, the way her body reacted to each gentle thrust.

As the moment intensified, you felt Natasha’s hips begin to shift once more, slowly grinding against your thigh with growing urgency. The slickness coating your leg increased, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from her body. The sensation of her arousal against your skin sent a jolt of heat coursing through you, every soft stroke of her body igniting a deeper hunger within you.

With each deliberate grind, she coated your thigh in even more of her slickness, her movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as she sought that delicious friction. You could feel the way her body responded instinctively to the sensation, the wetness contrasting against your skin, fueling your desire. She was overwhelmed, and the thought of her being so turned on by you sent a rush of pride surging through your veins.

“Sweetheart, we want to feel you,” you murmured, her breath hitching slightly, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

Natasha’s movements faltered, confusion flickering across her features as she turned her head slightly to meet your gaze, still gently sucking on your fingers. Your eyes weren’t on her anymore, though, so she looked in front of her again to see what you saw. 

Her breath hitched, eyes widening in shock, her body momentarily frozen in place. Your clone had begun to strip, slowly peeling away the layers of clothing that concealed its form, and Natasha's lips parted around your fingers as her attention shifted.

The clone’s body was just as enticing as yours, perhaps even more so in this moment, and as it unveiled itself, Natasha caught a glimpse of the clone’s member. The sheer size and girth of the clone’s cock was enough to drive her wild; it embodied everything she’d ever confessed she wanted in a strap. Just the sight of it sent a wave of sinful excitement rippling through her veins.

“Don’t worry, she won’t hurt you,” you reassured her, your voice low and steady as you observed the way her body reacted to the sight before her. You could feel the tension in her frame, a mixture of excitement and fear swirling within her, and you needed to bridge that gap, to show her just how pleasurable this could be.

With a gentle nudge, you turned on your back, taking Natasha with you, her back still pressed against your chest. The warmth of her skin felt heavenly against the cool air, and you revelled in the sensation of her weight settling atop you. The new position was intimate, your heart racing as you held her tightly, feeling her soft curves against your body.

The clone approached, its smirk growing wider as it took in the scene—Natasha on top of you, her cheeks flushed with desire. Natasha whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the sensory overload coursing through her, the heat of your bodies mingling as she tried to process everything happening around her.

“Relax, baby,” you whispered soothingly, caressing her sides. But before you could soothe her further, your clone roughly grabbed Natasha by the hair, a predatory glint in its eyes. Natasha gasped, her body instinctively responding to the sensation, and you could see the flicker of excitement igniting in her expression.

“Sit up on her abs,” the clone commanded, pulling Natasha to her knees just by her hair. With a mix of force and eagerness, it manhandled her, guiding her to straddle your stomach, manoeuvring her into position, and you could feel her core flush against your skin, slick and warm. Your breath quickened as you felt the wetness gush out of her, soaking onto your abs, a testament to her desire.

Your hands instinctively found their place on her hips, fingers digging in slightly as you helped guide her movements. You urged her to grind softly against you again, teasingly coaxing her to move without overwhelming her just yet. The sensation of her slickness against your stomach sent a jolt of heat through you, and you bit your lip, relishing the connection between you.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire as you watched her react to your touch. “Just let us take care of you.”

Your clone stepped closer, positioning itself just in front of the two of you, its gaze locked onto Natasha with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” it instructed, its voice low and commanding. Natasha’s eyes widened, a blend of excitement and trepidation flickering across her features as she tried to look from you to your clone, only partially completing that mission.

Feeling your encouraging nod, she leaned forward, her heart racing as she obeyed, parting her lips to take the clone's cock into her mouth. The moment she wrapped her lips around it, the pleasure coursing through her was electric. Your clone telepathically showed you its view, and you could see the way her eyes fluttered, pure bliss washing over her as she began to suck, her cheeks hollowing out around the girth of your clone.

As you held her hips, guiding her gentle grinding on your abs, you felt the wetness spreading even more beneath her, a glorious reminder of how deeply she actually craved this. The sensations intensified, each movement sending waves of pleasure rippling through you both. Natasha moaned around the clone’s cock, the sound vibrating through her body and making her grind even harder against you.

“Good girl,” you praised softly, the words slipping from your lips with a hint of authority. You loved watching her surrender to the pleasure, losing herself in the rhythm of the moment. Your clone took control, urging Natasha to take it deeper, the mix of pleasure and power sending her further into ecstasy.

The tension in the air was palpable as you continued to hold her hips, guiding her movements.

The clone’s grip on Natasha tightened, a possessive hold that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her as it guided her movements. With each thrust of its hips, it began to push deeper into her mouth, testing her limits, and Natasha instinctively bobbed her head, desperate to please.

“Just like that, Natasha,” you encouraged, watching her struggle to take more of the clone inside her mouth. “You’re doing so good.”

But as the clone felt her lips tighten around its length, the sensation sent it over the edge, losing its controlled demeanour. It thrust forward more forcefully, practically using Natasha’s mouth as a fleshlight, taking what it wanted with reckless abandon. Groans and moans spilled from its lips, the sound almost identical to your own, echoing in the air and driving Natasha wild with desire. Each noise was like a siren call, resonating deep within her as she tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, a reflection to the intensity of the pleasure and the stretch of her mouth. She could feel drool pooling at the corners of her lips, mixed with the clone’s precum, and she couldn’t help but lose herself completely in the moment. The skin of her cheeks flushed a deeper shade as the clone's rhythm became more frantic, the wet sounds of its thrusts echoing through the room.

Natasha’s eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the experience, but the moment she felt the clone’s hands tighten in her hair, she forced her gaze to meet its own. You could see the haze of pleasure in her eyes, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to take more of the clone inside her.

The clone, clearly intoxicated by the sight of Natasha's beautiful struggle, leaned down closer, its voice dripping with desire. “Look at her,” it groaned, the words laced with a primal edge. “She’s such a mess for me, for us.”

Suddenly, the clone transmitted its sensations directly to your body, filling your senses with the exquisite feeling of Natasha as she fought to accommodate its girth. You could feel her lips stretched impossibly around it, her cheeks hollowed out as she desperately tried to swallow every inch. Drool dripped from her mouth, pooling at her chin and sliding down to her neck, adding to the deliciously lewd scene.

The way her body responded was intoxicating—her back arched, and her hips instinctively rocked as if trying to grind against the phantom sensations. Each thrust from the clone pushed her closer to the edge, her moans vibrating against its shaft, heightening the intensity of everything they were experiencing together.

“Good job, princess,” you urged, the words slipping from your lips as you watched her struggle to breathe, more tears spilling down her cheeks, a beautiful mess of arousal and submission. “Take it all. You know you want to.”

The clone took full advantage of Natasha’s compliance, pounding into her mouth relentlessly, using her like an obedient plaything. It thrust harder, deeper, and with each movement, it pulled more of those delightful sounds from her, the groans and whimpers blending into a symphony of desire that echoed in the room.

Natasha could feel the world around her fade away, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of the clone’s thick shaft stretching her mouth and the dizzying pleasure building within her. She was drowning in the sensations, and it only fueled her need for more.

Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy crashing through her, each moment causing her to lose herself further in the pleasure that enveloped her. With every droplet of precum and every tear that fell, she surrendered to the overwhelming waves of sensation, her body responding instinctively to the relentless rhythm, succumbing to the sweet torment of being used by your clone.

Taking advantage of Natasha's overwhelmed state, you conjured the strap you knew she loved, your magic weaving it into existence with a soft, glowing green hue that danced around it like an ethereal mist. The length was impressive, longer yet less thick than the clone’s member, designed to fit comfortably alongside it when the moment was right. As the strap settled between Natasha’s thighs, the shimmering aura reflected the powers at play, accentuating the beautiful contrast against her flushed skin.

Natasha was lost in the rhythm of her own pleasure, unaware of the strap that now stood ready for her. She continued to grind down mindlessly on your lower belly, seeking any semblance of friction that would drive her closer to the edge. But then, as her movements became more frantic, the strap made contact with her clit. The sudden sensation sent shockwaves through her, and she gagged on the clone’s cock, her eyes widening in realisation as the fullness in her mouth deepened.

She tried to cry out, to convey just how much she needed you—how desperately she craved both of you—but the thick cock filling her throat and the clone’s relentless thrusts silenced her words, reducing them to muffled gurgles. Even so, you could sense her urgency; the way her body quivered beneath the weight of ecstasy.

As if drawn to her need, your hands wandered from her hips to her breasts, feeling the softness of her skin under your fingers. You couldn’t resist the way her body responded, the way she arched into your touch. Slowly, you sat up a little, your abs flexing beneath her as you moved, the strap now pressing firmly against her folds. The sensation jolted Natasha, drawing a cry from her lips that vibrated around your clone’s cock, sending a thrill through both of you.

A rush of wetness spilled out of her, coating the strap with her slickness, and you revelled in the sight. “You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your breath hot against her ear as you captured her attention. “Feeling both of us, giving in to every need?”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered, her body shaking with desire as she nodded, the overwhelming sensations bringing her closer to the precipice. She was a beautiful mess, lost in the throes of passion and desperation. Your fingers traced over her breasts, squeezing gently as her whimpers filled the air, the sound mingling with the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

With each thrust of the clone’s hips, the strap nudged against Natasha's clit, intensifying the pleasure radiating to her core. It felt like a dance, a symphony of sensations that only heightened the tension building between the three of you. The clone, sensing Natasha’s turmoil, began to thrust harder, forcing her deeper onto its cock, and you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against her shoulder.

“Just let go, Natasha,” you urged softly, your voice low and coaxing. “Let us take care of you.”

Natasha’s body responded instinctively, bucking against the strap as she chased the spiralling pleasure that engulfed her. “Please... I need...” Her words were drowned in another moan as the clone pulled her hair, holding her in place, and she could do nothing but submit to the sensations overtaking her.

Your strap shifted again, rubbing against her swollen clit, and the fire ignited inside her. The combination of the clone’s relentless thrusts and the way the strap stimulated her sent her spiralling closer to bliss. The pressure built, coiling tightly in her core, and you could feel the tension radiating off her body, signalling that she was on the verge of an explosive release.

“Come for me, Natasha,” you whispered, your fingers moving to her hips to guide her. “You’re so close. Just let go for us.”

And in that moment, Natasha succumbed to the tidal wave of pleasure, her cries muffled but filled with undeniable passion. The sound of her release echoed through the air, drowning in the intensity of the sensations and the overwhelming connection that bound you all together.

The moment Natasha succumbed to the overwhelming sensations, it was as if time itself froze. A wave of euphoria washed over her, igniting every nerve ending as her body tensed, spiralling into pure bliss. Her mouth was still filled with the clone’s cock, and the muffled cries of ecstasy vibrated against it, sending shivers through both you and the clone. The strap pressed firmly against her clit, rubbing against the sensitive flesh as her body writhed in pleasure, sending surges of warmth cascading through her.

As her orgasm took hold, her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into a haze of colour and sensation. She felt every touch, every thrust, amplifying the heat coiling tightly in her core. The slickness between her legs only intensified, soaking the strap and pooling around it as she bucked against it, lost in a sea of pure ecstasy. A guttural moan escaped her lips, and tears of pleasure streamed down her cheeks, a testament to the intensity of her release.

With each wave of her climax, Natasha felt her body convulsing, as if it were trying to escape the sheer delight enveloping her. The clone, sensing the height of her pleasure, pushed deeper into her throat, its rhythm becoming frantic, mirroring Natasha's mounting need. Her heart raced as the pleasure began to ebb, leaving her breathless and dazed.

But just as she began to float down from that euphoric high, the clone grew increasingly frustrated. As your clone pulled Natasha away from its throbbing length, it was clear that it demanded her undivided attention. The instant Natasha’s mouth was freed from your clone, she gasped for breath, her lips swollen and glistening with a mix of drool and precum. The clone's frustration surged, and with a firm grip on her hips, it manhandled her upwards, lifting her off its cock and positioning her directly over yours.

“Now, take this,” it commanded, pushing Natasha downwards as she lowered herself onto your strap, the length filling her completely in one fluid motion. The sensation was exhilarating, and Natasha let out a startled cry as she felt the entirety of you stretch her. The pressure was overwhelming, pushing her right to the edge, and she could do nothing but submit to the feeling.

You watched in awe as Natasha’s body enveloped you fully, her walls clenching around the strap, creating a delicious friction that sent jolts of pleasure coursing through both of you. She gasped again, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and delight as she felt the cold silicone filling her warm depths.

“God, you’re so tight,” you breathed, your hands instinctively finding her waist once more, guiding her movements as she adjusted to the feeling of being filled completely.

Your clone smirked, taking a step back to admire the sight before it. Natasha’s back was arched, her face flushed, and her breaths were coming in quick gasps as she savoured the sensation of being impaled on your strap. It was a sight that drove both of you wild.

“Ride Mommy,” the clone urged, voice low and sultry. It revelled in the power dynamics, knowing Natasha was entirely at the mercy of both you and your clone.

As if compelled by the command, Natasha began to lift herself slightly, feeling the strap sliding in and out, her slickness coating the length of you. But just as she began to find her rhythm, the clone leaned in closer, grasping her hair and pulling her head back gently to expose her neck, its breath hot against her ear.

“Now, let’s see how much you can really take,” it whispered, urging Natasha to push herself further.

With a sudden, assertive movement, your clone guided Natasha downwards harder, forcing her to take the entire length of the strap again. The sensation was overwhelming, and Natasha’s breath hitched as she felt the fullness stretch her further. It took everything in her to hold back a scream, the sheer pleasure coursing through her body making her skin tingle.

You felt her body shudder above you, the warmth and slickness surrounding you creating an intoxicating blend of sensations. “That’s it, Nat,” you encouraged, your hands tightening on her waist as you helped her find the perfect angle to ride you. “Just like that.”

But your clone wasn’t done yet. With each upward thrust of Natasha’s hips, it took advantage of her momentary distraction, pushing her back down harder on your strap, driving the full length into her in a way that left her breathless. She felt utterly consumed, every thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through her, igniting the spark of ecstasy within her core.

“Feel how good you are for us,” the clone said, watching with pleasure as Natasha began to lose herself to the sensations. Her body moved in perfect rhythm, each thrust pushing her closer to the precipice of bliss.

“Please,” Natasha gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, but you both knew exactly what she meant. She craved more. More friction. More pleasure. More of both of you.

The clone, clearly impatient with the slow –but hard– pace, decided it was time to take charge. With a firm grip on Natasha’s hair, it yanked her off your strap, forcing her to gasp in surprise as she was pulled away. The sudden shift made her body tremble with anticipation, and before she could fully register what was happening, the clone manoeuvred her back onto you, repositioning her like before.

Natasha’s back pressed against your soft breasts, the warmth of your body enveloping her as she nestled into them, feeling safe yet overwhelmed by the sensations that coursed through her. The strap remained nestled between her thighs, brushing against her sensitive skin, an enticing reminder of the pleasure still to come.

As your clone positioned itself in front of Natasha, ready to enter her, the anticipation hung thick in the air. The moment Natasha felt the clone’s girth pressing against her entrance, a shiver shot through her spine. The sensation was so familiar yet different—she knew this wasn’t your strap; it was something else entirely, and the knowledge sent a thrill through her.

“Just relax,” your clone purred, voice low and sultry. With that, it pushed forward, filling Natasha in one powerful thrust. The feeling was unlike anything she had experienced before; the clone was thicker, hotter, and it stretched her in ways that made her see stars.

Natasha’s head dropped back against your shoulder, her breath hitching in her throat as the wave of sensation crashed over her. She turned her face into your neck, muffling her cries against your skin, the sound lost in the warmth of your embrace.

Your hand instinctively found its way to her breasts again, fingers teasingly groping them while your other hand roamed down to her stomach, tracing the soft contours of her body. You could feel every muscle quiver under your touch, the tension radiating from her as the clone began to establish a rhythm.

With each thrust, your clone buried itself deeper inside Natasha, pushing her tightly against you. The contrast of sensations was intoxicating—your warmth wrapping around her like a cocoon, while the clone filled her completely, driving her wild. Natasha squirmed beneath the onslaught, desperately trying to control her feelings, but it was proving impossible.

As the clone picked up the pace, Natasha instinctively leaned further into you, her body grinding against yours as she sought more friction. You could feel her slickness coating your strap and stomach, mixing with the clone’s thrusts, creating a delicious mess.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” you whispered, unable to resist leaning down to kiss her temple. Each kiss you left only fueled her desire further, and Natasha responded by sucking hickeys into your neck, desperately trying to stifle her moans with your flesh.

Your clone’s grip on her hips tightened, its movements becoming rougher and more demanding, forcing Natasha to take every inch. She could hardly think, lost in the haze of pleasure, her mind swirling with the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Each thrust hit the perfect spot, igniting sparks of ecstasy deep within her core.

“Don’t hold back,” you encouraged, your voice a soft murmur as you cupped her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples. “Let it all go.”

With each thrust of the clone, Natasha felt herself teetering on the edge, the world around her fading once more as her body succumbed to the pleasure. It was a symphony of sensations—your warmth, the clone’s depth, and the exhilaration of knowing she was being completely claimed in this moment.

“Please,” she gasped, words spilling from her lips like a prayer, “I need… I need you both.”

The clone only responded with a growl, driving harder into her as it relished the power of the moment. The sound echoed in her ears, blending with your soft coos of encouragement, pulling her closer to that sweet release she so desperately craved.

Natasha surrendered herself to the waves of pleasure washing over her, the tension building to an almost unbearable point. With every thrust, every touch, she felt herself spiralling closer to the brink, her body singing with need.

As the clone drove deeper into Natasha, the sensations began to overwhelm her. Each thrust was met with a delicious ache, pushing her closer to the edge of pleasure. Natasha felt herself slipping away, her mind clouding with bliss as the clone’s relentless rhythm ignited a fire within her core. The world around her had faded, leaving only the pulsating waves of ecstasy crashing over her like a tide, almost dumbifying her senses.

“Please… I can’t… too much,” she whined, her voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of desperation. The overwhelming pleasure pulled her further into subspace, each thrust sending her tumbling deeper, her breath hitching with every movement.

In that moment, you focused your energy, telepathically communicating with your clone. Slow down, you urged, your voice echoing in the shared space of your minds. Let me join you.

Your clone smirked mischievously, the glimmer in its eyes matching the wickedness of its intentions. Just as it heard Natasha’s whimper, “Daddy, too much. Slower, please,” the tension in the air thickened with anticipation.

You and your clone exchanged knowing smirks, an understanding passing between you both. With a gentle yet firm touch, you began to circle Natasha’s sensitive clit with your fingers, a silent promise that you would fill her too in just a few moments. Natasha’s body responded, her cries turning into soft sobs, “Mommy, please. Need you, need you and Daddy in me, please fill me.”

With those words, the clone manoeuvred your strap to Natasha’s entrance, the one already filled with its girth. Slowly, it pressed the strap alongside its own cock, teasingly close yet not fully joining the two.

To your surprise, the moment your strap touched Natasha’s sensitive entrance, you felt everything as if it was a part of you, like the two were connected through some magical bond. You couldn't tell if it was your imagination or if your powers were taking over, but the sensation was dizzying, a mix of pleasure and overwhelming intimacy. It was something you’d have to figure out later, but right now, the sight before you demanded your attention.

Natasha’s pleading pulled you from your thoughts, her hand coming up to grasp the side of your face, her gaze desperate and filled with need. Her face remained buried in your neck, wet kisses and drool spilling from her mouth as she surrendered completely.

With a steadying breath, you slowly pushed into her, feeling the strap glide against the slickness of her folds and your clone’s shaft. Natasha whined and choked on her cries, hearing your voice twice, a beautiful harmony that reverberated through her. As your strap joined the clone’s cock nestled deep inside her, she gasped, her body quaking with the overwhelming fullness.

“God, you feel so good,” you groaned, your voice a breathy whisper as you watched her face contort with pleasure, the sight of her blissful expression driving you wild. The twin sensations of being filled by both you and your clone sent Natasha soaring to new heights, her body arching as waves of ecstasy rolled through her.

With each thrust, you felt the connection strengthen, your movements harmonising with the clone’s, creating a rhythm that left Natasha breathless and begging for more. The way she clenched around you was intoxicating, a visceral reminder of the connection you all shared.

“Just like that, baby,” you coaxed, fingers still teasing her clit, amplifying her pleasure with each calculated stroke. Natasha’s cries filled the air, a melody of need and desire, each sound sending shivers down your spine.

As you sank deeper into her, pushing your hips up as much as you could, your breath mingling with hers, you knew you were entering a new level of intimacy, a space where pleasure and connection intertwined beautifully. And as Natasha’s body began to tighten around you both, you could feel her on the verge of yet another climax, her mind and body succumbing to the overwhelming sensations you and your clone were creating together.

The clone’s restraint began to wane as it felt the intoxicating pull of pleasure surging through both you and Natasha. With each thrust, it pounded harder, pushing Natasha deeper into you, driving her body against yours. You flexed all your muscles beneath her, amplifying every sensation, forcing her to feel everything.

Natasha cried out, the sound a beautiful mix of ecstasy and desperation. “Please, please, don’t stop!” she begged, her voice raw with need as she writhed against you, lost in the tidal wave of pleasure. The way her body moved, the slickness coating your abs and thighs, only heightened your desire, turning your focus solely on her.

The strap nestled inside her, pressing snugly against her walls, the sensation of fullness overwhelming her senses. The clone continued to thrust, each movement sending jolts of pleasure rippling through Natasha’s body, amplifying the exquisite sensation of being filled by the two you’s.

“Just let go, baby,” you encouraged, your voice low and filled with desire. “Mommy’s right here with you.”

As the clone lost its last shred of control, it began to pound into her relentlessly. Natasha’s back arched, and she gasped, her head pressing against your shoulder as the force of the thrusts sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body. The rhythm turned chaotic, the clone’s hips snapping forward with a desperate urgency, and you felt every thrust radiate through you.

“Fuck!” you gasped, the intensity of her cries echoing in your ears, every sound driving you further into your own desire.

With a sob that echoed through the room, Natasha felt the pressure building to an unbearable level. The clone’s relentless pace pushed her toward the edge, but as she neared her peak, she suddenly found herself overwhelmed, lost in the sensations coursing through her. “Oh my god!” she cried, the sound almost a plea as her body quaked with pleasure.

As both of you reached the brink of ecstasy, the clone began to slow down, savouring the moment, prolonging the exquisite tension building between you. The pace became almost maddeningly slow, each thrust deliberate, dragging Natasha closer to the precipice of another orgasm.

“Please… don’t stop,” she whimpered, her voice thick with desperation. “I need—”

But before she could finish, another wave of pleasure crashed over her, sending her spiralling into bliss. The feeling of fullness, the dual sensations of the clone's cock and your strap filling her up, made everything burst into a kaleidoscope of sensations.

“God, Natasha!” you groaned, your body responding to her release, every muscle tightening as she surrendered to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.

And in that moment, the clone and you both felt it more than ever—the twin sensations of Natasha’s body clenching around you as she rode the wave of her climax, your own pleasure coiling tightly within you before spilling over. The moan that escaped your lips mixed with hers, creating a symphony of raw desire.

In those final moments, as Natasha's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, the world outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating haze of fulfilment that enveloped you. As the waves of ecstasy subsided, Natasha's body trembled with residual pleasure, but you could feel an insatiable need bubbling up within you. You wanted more. You wanted to see her face—truly see her, not just through the lens of the clone's shared images.

With a sudden surge of energy, you gripped Natasha's waist, pulling her up and spinning her around, determined to make her face you. The clone smirked, still behind her, watching with a mix of amusement and eagerness. Natasha gasped as you manhandled her, positioning her so that she straddled your lap, her thighs encasing you as you held her steady.

“Now you look at me, Natasha,” you breathed, your gaze locking onto hers. Her eyes were wide, still glazed from pleasure, yet there was an unmistakable spark of desire flickering within them. “Mommy needs to see you.”

“God, you’re breathtaking,” you murmured, your hands roaming up to cup her face, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. The contrast between her warmth and the still chilly air heightened your senses even more. You could see the remnants of tears glistening in her eyes, a reflection of the pleasure she had just experienced.

Your clone wasted no time in positioning itself behind her, its cock pressing against her slick folds already filled with your strap, teasing her with the promise of complete fullness. “Ready?” it asked, its voice deep and laced with mischief.

Natasha nodded, her breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of you—her gaze flickering from your eyes to the clone behind her. “Please,” she begged, her voice a desperate whisper, as if the simple word contained all her longing.

With a swift thrust, the clone buried itself deep within her, and Natasha cried out, the sound reverberating through you both. Her body instinctively bucked, arching toward you while her hands gripped your shoulders for support. You held her close, watching the way her face twisted with pleasure, a sight that fueled your desire even further.

“Come on, princess,” you encouraged, your fingers trailing down to her hips, guiding her movements as you urged her to ride you, feeling the sensation of her warmth enveloping you. “Show us how much you want it.”

The clone’s hands gripped Natasha's waist, pushing her back and forth, allowing her to feel the exquisite pressure building between them. As she began to ride, you could see the conflict between pleasure and control etched on her face—a mix of vulnerability and power as she took charge.

“Look at you,” you praised, your voice low and sultry. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

Natasha's body moved with a fervour that left you breathless, her gaze locked onto yours as she rode you with reckless abandon. The pressure of the clone behind her only heightened the sensations as it thrust into her, filling the same heated space while you filled her from the front. She was caught in a delicious dance, both of you driving her closer to the edge.

“More,” she gasped, her voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “I need more!”

You could see the way her body shuddered, the pleasure coursing through her as the clone thrust deeper, driving her wild. “What exactly do you want from Daddy, baby?” you teased, your tone sultry as your hands roamed down her body, cupping her breasts and revelling in the softness of her skin.

With a breathy whimper, Natasha looked at you, her eyes glazed and wide with need. “I… I want you both,” she pleaded, but there was something deeper in her request. “I want Daddy to take me… in my ass.”

The words hung in the air, shocking both you and the clone into silence. The sheer boldness of her request sent a thrill through you, but uncertainty quickly followed. You glanced at the clone, who mirrored your surprise, its eyes reflecting the same mix of excitement and concern.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” you both asked in unison, your voices blending together, creating a curious harmony in the heat of the moment.

Natasha's breaths were rapid, her body trembling with a mix of desire and need. “I need it,” she whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at you. “I need to— Please. I need… Stretch.”

The vulnerability in her tone, paired with the overwhelming look of desperation in her eyes, left you both at a loss for words. You could see how deeply she had sunk into subspace, her mind fogged with pleasure, making her almost dizzy with the intensity of it all.

“Okay, baby,” you said softly, brushing a stray hair from her face. “But only if you really want it. We’ll take care of you, I promise.”

The clone nodded in agreement, its cock still nestled deep inside her, teasing her as it awaited your cue. Natasha nodded vigorously, her body arching back against the clone, urging it to fill her.

“Please,” she cried, a sob of need escaping her lips. “I need to feel you both—stretch me, Daddy.”

You felt a rush of heat at the word, your heart racing as you shared a knowing look with the clone. 

“Alright,” you murmured, your voice steady. “Just breathe through it, okay? We’re right here with you.”

With that reassurance, the clone repositioned itself, the head of its cock teasing Natasha’s tight entrance. You could feel the tension in her body, the way she braced herself for what was to come. Natasha was so far gone, her thoughts jumbled, the edges of reality blurring as she focused on the sensations overwhelming her senses.

As the clone began to push in, you watched Natasha’s eyes widen, her breath hitching as she adjusted to the sensation. “Relax, baby,” you urged, your hands smoothing over her arms, guiding her through the intensity of the moment.

The clone pushed deeper, inching into her until you could see her body quiver, her moans mixing with gasps of pain and discomfort. “You’ve got it, just breathe,” you encouraged. “You’re doing so well.”

Natasha’s head dropped down against your forehead, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she adjusted to the fullness. Her body trembled, the combination of sensations sending her whirling into bliss. “More,” she begged, her voice laced with desperation. “Please, move!”

With every thrust, your clone filled her, pushing her deeper into the realms of pleasure she had yet to explore. You could feel her body clenching around both of you, her walls tightening with each movement, and it was intoxicating.

“Look at you,” you praised, your fingers brushing against her cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from her flushed skin. “So beautiful and full.”

Just as you coaxed her to ride you harder, Natasha cried out, her body shuddering as another orgasm washed over her, sending shockwaves through her entire being. She convulsed against you, her cries muffled against your shoulder as her body surged with pleasure, and she felt blissfully alive, even as she hovered on the brink of exhaustion.

“Mommy!” she cried, her voice raw and pleading. “More. Please don’t stop!”

You exchanged a glance with the clone, both of you grinning at the sheer intensity of it all. Natasha was lost in her own world of pleasure, her mind tangled in the blissful haze that engulfed her.

“Okay, baby. You’re such a good girl for Mommy” you whispered, kissing her softly on the neck as the clone continued its steady rhythm, pushing her deeper into the realm of ecstasy.

“Just hold on, Natty. We’re going to take you higher,” you promised.

As Natasha continued to ride you, her movements became more frantic, each upward thrust heightening her arousal. The sensations overwhelmed her, and as she felt the clone still thrusting deep within her from behind, she teetered on the edge of yet another orgasm. The waves of pleasure coiled tightly in her core, and she gasped, “I’m so close!”

“Let it happen, Natty. Just let go. You don’t have to ask or warn Mommy,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper, yet firm with encouragement.

With a final thrust from the clone, the tension snapped. Natasha’s body erupted in a symphony of pleasure, her cries mingling with the gasps of ecstasy that poured from her lips. She squirted slightly, the sensation washing over her, making her see stars. The feelings were almost too much as she shuddered on top of you, riding out the waves of her orgasm.

“Mommy! Please!” she whimpered, her body trembling as she struggled to stay upright, lost in the aftermath of her climax. “I need more!”

The urgency in her voice spurred you on, and without hesitation, you adjusted your grip around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, standing up until you were carrying her in your arms. Natasha clung to you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist, the strap still nestled snugly inside her, making her feel filled and deliciously full.

“Hold on, baby,” you instructed playfully, feeling her breath hitch in excitement as you positioned her. The clone shifted behind her, hands gripping her hips as it prepared to take her again.

With a firm thrust, the clone began to pound into her ass once more, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through the redhead. The dual sensations were almost overwhelming as she felt both of you moving together again, the rhythm sending her spiralling deeper into euphoria. The pressure built inside her, and Natasha found herself gasping, her moans mingling with whimpers of delight as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.

The new position intensified everything. You felt every flex of her muscles against you, the sensation of her warmth surrounding you heightening the intimacy. The clone’s thrusts were deep and relentless, driving her further into a haze of pleasure, each stroke hitting a spot that made her cry out breathlessly.

Natasha’s body responded instinctively, her back arching as the clone continued to thrust into her. You could feel the rhythm of both of you, creating a symphony of pleasure that drowned out any rational thought. The overwhelming sensations flooded her senses, and she felt herself teetering on the brink of something beautifully intense.

“Да...да...please...” she babbled, her words tumbling out in a mixture of Russian and English, barely coherent as the pleasure swelled within her. Each thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her, the dual penetration pushing her deeper into a euphoric state where everything else faded away.

As she surrendered completely, her moans morphed into gasps, and you could feel her heartbeat quickening, the desperation in her voice reflecting the sheer intensity of what she was experiencing. The world around her blurred, and she felt as if she was floating, the sensations spiralling into a blissful abyss where nothing else mattered—only the exquisite connection between the three, the two of you.

With each thrust, the boundaries of pleasure expanded, and Natasha found herself lost in the rhythm, her body trembling as she embraced the overwhelming waves that threatened to pull her under completely.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice thick with lust as you watched her expression shift from blissful concentration to pure ecstasy.

Natasha could feel the heat radiating from both of you, and as the clone thrust deeper into her, she could hardly contain herself. The movements became more frantic, and you could see her losing control, the familiar warmth pooling in her belly as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

As the clone’s thrusts grew more intense, Natasha couldn’t hold back any longer. She cried out, her body shaking as her second orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. The climax ignited her senses, sending her plummeting into oblivion. She squirted again, this time with an intensity that shocked you, the warmth cascading from her, soaking the ground beneath you as she lost herself completely. The sensations enveloped her entirely, pushing her to the brink of consciousness as pleasure consumed her.

“Oй! Боже мой [Oh! Oh my God]!” Natasha wailed, her voice a desperate blend of ecstasy and disbelief as she clung to you with a death grip, burying her face in your neck. Each powerful thrust from the clone behind her sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, igniting a fire that burned deep within her core. “Я не могу! [I can’t take it!]” she gasped, her words tumbling out in a frenzied mix as her mind began to unravel.

The stretch of being filled by both you and the clone left her breathless, every thrust pushing her further into euphoria.

“Наполните меня! [Fill me!]” she begged, her voice trembling with desperation, matching the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. Her begs turned into screams, the feeling of both of you surrounding her senses, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as she felt the clone’s thickness coat her walls. “Fill me! Fill me more!”

As the clone withdrew, leaving her gaping and desperate, it suddenly plunged back into her pussy with an intensity that made her scream. The sheer fullness was intoxicating, driving her wild. You felt the clone’s cock throbbing against the strap again, its thickness coating her walls with each thrust. Natasha’s cries vibrated against your skin, breath warm and shaky as she surrendered completely to the sensations enveloping her.

The clone’s movements became frantic, and Natasha’s body responded eagerly, waves of ecstasy crashing over her as it filled her with its seed. “Oh, боже, да! [God, yes!]” she cried, each pulse of the clone’s release sending you both spiraling deeper into pleasure. The warmth flooded her core, and you could feel your clone’s throbbing cock pulsing inside her, your own body tingling as the sensations intertwined. The heat radiating from Natasha was intoxicating, a sweet rush of satisfaction that coursed through you with every throb of the clone.

The combination of sensations was overwhelming. The way the clone thrust back into her, slamming against the strap, sent her drifting into another dimension of bliss. Natasha cried out as she felt the clone stretching her in ways she never imagined possible, and it drove her wild. You could feel the slick warmth of her inner walls enveloping both you and the clone, mingling with her own juices, creating a heady mix that made your skin prickle with desire. Each pulse resonated within you, a delicious reminder of how completely she was filled, and it ignited a primal need in you to hold her tighter.

“Я такая полная… [I’m so full…]” Natasha babbled, her voice thick with pleasure as she felt the warm slickness spilling out, dripping down her thighs. “Пожалуйста! Ещё! [Please! More!]” She clung to you tighter, her body quaking with each thrust, and you felt her heat radiating, igniting every nerve ending in your body. The clone’s release filled her to the brim, and the sensation sent a rush of pleasure through you, mirroring her own ecstatic response.

As the clone surged inside her again, the potent warmth enveloped both of you. Each pulse of its release drove her deeper into ecstasy, creating a continuous cycle of pleasure that left her gasping for breath. You could feel your own arousal heightening with every movement, your body responding in kind to Natasha’s cries and the rhythmic pounding of the clone. Her moans echoed in your ears, intoxicating you as they mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Ah! Yes! Please!” Natasha screamed, the overwhelming sensations sending her spiraling into yet another orgasm. You felt every pulse through the strap, a visceral connection that made you acutely aware of her pleasure. The slick warmth spilling around you only heightened your own arousal, driving you further into the intoxicating haze of shared ecstasy.

Her screams filled the air as the pressure peaked, and she squirted again, the force of her orgasm leaving her breathless and light-headed. You could feel the warm release of the clone filling her, and that sensation sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, making your body hum with excitement. The overwhelming sensations wrapped around her like a blanket as she felt her body go limp, her vision fading into darkness as she passed out, completely lost in ecstasy. 

As Natasha’s body went limp in your arms, the clone began to dissolve, its form fading into nothingness as if it had never existed. The strap also vanished, leaving you feeling achingly empty yet exhilarated from the shared experience. You gently slid down against the wall, cradling Natasha against your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin.

Your fingers were completely black now, a vivid reminder of the intensity that had just unfolded. But despite the darkened marks, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing every moment had been worth it. Holding her tightly, you felt a rush of protectiveness and tenderness wash over you as you watched her drift into a blissful slumber, the aftershocks of pleasure still evident in her soft sighs. In this quiet moment, you revelled in the connection you shared, cherishing the way her body fit perfectly against yours, as if you were two halves of a whole.

The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this cocoon of warmth and intimacy, a perfect refuge after the storm of ecstasy.

A little while later, Natasha slowly regained consciousness, her senses gradually returning to her. You were sitting on the ground with your back against the wall, her knees around your waist as she sat on your lap, her body completely leaning into you. She felt so warm and safe, a serene calm washing over her.

As her eyes fluttered open, she blinked lazily, taking a moment to adjust to her surroundings. When her gaze landed on you, a soft smile crept across her lips, and she chuckled tiredly. “I’m warm now,” she whispered against your lips, the playful spark in her eyes bringing a warmth to your chest.

You couldn’t help but grin as you took her face in your hands, savouring the moment. You mentally captured the image of her—hair tousled, cheeks flushed, and that blissful expression that showed just how thoroughly spent she was.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her passionately, feeling the spark ignite between you. It was the first kiss you had shared that night, and both of you knew that this was more than “just” an 'I fuck my friend' friendship, it always has been more. The kiss spoke of something deeper, an unspoken connection solidified by the level of  intimacy you had just shared.

When you finally pulled away, Natasha rested her forehead against yours, her breaths still heavy but now laced with contentment. “What just happened?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with a mix of disbelief and affection.

You chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I think we just took our friendship to a whole new level.”

Natasha smirked, her eyes still half-closed, and shot back, “Fuck that word. This isn’t friendship. Not to me anymore, it hasn’t been for a while.”

With a satisfied grin, she nestled into you, her body still warm against yours as she closed her eyes, content to linger in the afterglow of the night. 

Softly, she snuggled her face into the crook of your neck before whispering the three words she was so scared to say.

The honesty in her voice mingled with the playful spark in her eyes, and it felt like a promise—a thrilling acknowledgment of everything that had just transpired between you.

[y13evie]

sub könig blurb beneath

tags: breeding kind of, riding, once again just pure filth

ok he’s big and scary and his dick is huge duh. but he’s definitely such a baby. when you get on top and ride him, taking complete control, it drives him insane. he’ll start to get handsy but you’ll smack his hands away and tell him he can’t touch until he’s been a good boy :((. he hates not being able to touch his darling but he can’t really concentrate on that due to the fact your bouncing up and down on his cock like your life depends on it.

when he starts whimpering and begging to cum you’ll stop. könig will buck into you at an attempt to get you moving again, but you quickly put his antics to shame. calling him a needy whore, cant go a second without being inside you. your words go straight to cock as it twitches inside you, so you made a deal. you’ll let him cum, only if he fills you up. he wastes no time getting work. fucking into you at an unholy speed, hitting that sweet spot that turns your vision into static. he whines things like, “wanna be your good boy” and “wan’ make you feel so good”. without any warning he fills you with his seed. he doesn’t move, not wanting anything to spill out. you use him to teach your own high, moaning out praises like “m’ sweet boy fills me up so good”. you collapse onto his chest, feeling his arms wrap around your body as you both lay there, infatuated with one another.

[grotesquegirlsblog]

[ajuice-matts]

the chokehold this man has on me needs to be studied for real

[gunksh1t]

Being edged over and over as they keep fucking into you and bringing you to the brink of cumming before suddenly pulling out and refusing to touch you just as you're about to cum. Giggling at your pathetic whines and watching you desperately hump the air.

All you can do is beg and sob as they repeat it over and over until your thighs are shaking and your face is mess of tears with your eyes rolled back and your head is fuzzy and you can't think about anything except how badly you need to cum and how achy your hole is yet it feels so good;

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease"

Letting out a squeal when they suddenly slap your hole, gasping with each slap until you're throbbing and squirming. A fresh rush of tears spilling onto your cheeks as you shake and moan.

"Pretty baby, don't you know that good little toys don't talk?"

[thebluester2020]

[SDV] "Sins of the Guilty"

Summary: SDV Bachelors lusting over the nun that's recently come to visit Pelican Town Warning(s): Not proofread, Sacrilege of nuns, Sub!Sebastion [Reader is kinda a dom in his part], Sebastion doesn't have active sex with the reader, it's only imagined, I kinda favored Sebastion's part ngl, Dom!Shane [The usual lol], This is the filthiest thing I've ever written ngl, Elliot is the king of making readers squirt fight me on that, Elliot is a simp low-key, Bachelors loosely follow the plot of the verses, Unprotected sex [Wrap it before you tap it folks], Pure filth, Porn with plot. Word count: 8,285 wordsSide note(s): Inspired by the fact that- I like nuns and priests man. Going to religious schools all your childhood will do that 💀. Also, sorry for not including all the bachelors. I mostly wanted to focus on those who I think would struggle the most with being presented with a pretty nun in front of them cause it's more fun that way pfft.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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

Shane - "Hopeless Sinner" 1 Peter 5:8 - Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

♡ - Never in his life had Shane been a religious man.

Too much had happened in his life for him to even consider the possibility of a god, and even if there was such a thing? There was no way that they'd look down favorably upon them, especially with all the sins that weighed down his soul.

And he had a lot.

He was a drunk, he could hardly keep his eyes open half of the time. It was common for him to stink, absolutely reek of alcohol and past missed showers and he far too commonly let his alcoholism get him into frequent situations that he would only come to regret the next day. And to add to that list of sins? He wasn't exactly a people person.

He was rude and curt, saw people as an annoyance and treated them like such. He wasn't open to hearing people be kind to him much less try to suggest ways to change himself. The only time he felt semblances of happiness was when he was with his niece and even then? Those times were fleeting and brief, all because of his aforementioned addictions to the bottle.

And...despite all of that, all those troubles...he wasn't intent on changing.

In his eyes? He was a lost cause, too far gone and there was no point in expending energy on something that was damaged. And he only doubled down on that ideology when rumors began to circulate that a nun was going to visit the town for a little while. He even made it a mission to avoid any places where you could've possibly been at!

The last thing Shane needed was some old woman lecturing on the goodness of Yoba and the sins that came with drinking. How that "he wasn't too far gone" and that he could be "saved", all if he just believed and dedicated himself enough.

At least...until he saw you in person one day outside Pierre's shop on his way to get some cans of beer.

. . .

"You must be Shane, I'm Sister Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you!"

It was like the entire world paused for the briefest of moments.

Just enough for him to truly take in your features the moment he saw you, right in front of Pierre's shop no doubt.

Your smile alone could have chased away the darkest of storms and replace it with a sun that shined as much as your eyes did. They were as wide and big as a dog looking up at its owner, he thought. As if you were expecting some type of praise or reward for greeting him with so much enthusiasm. You were slender-figured but graced with long legs, your skin appeared smooth and your lips were pink and full. Yet as Shane looked back down, he was shocked that you weren't wearing a long black dress like he had thought nuns wore but...shorts-

"Shane? Are you alright?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah...I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "How in the hell do you know my name anyway?" He continued, surprised when you didn't flinch at his rude tone.

"The Church made sure to brief me on people's faces and names before I came to visit!" Of course they did…though, he didn’t know whether or not to complain at this fact or to allow himself to silently be happy in a way. After all, it wasn’t everyday that someone cute knew his name off the bat, much less greeted him with a smile that didn’t have badly hidden disdain or disgust behind it.

“Anyway…” You cleared your throat. “You should come to service this Sunday! It’ll be my first one in the valley and I’d love to have everyone there, I-if possible of course.”

He clicked his tongue.

At the very most? He’d think about it.

“Maybe,” Then, he walked past you.

. . .

After the two of you first met, Shane tried avoiding you the rest of the week until Sunday passed him by.

But though be was successfully avoiding you physically, mentally was a whole other issue as no matter what he did? No matter how much alcohol he drank, you’d always find a way to squeeze your way into his thoughts. When he cringed at his own smell at times, suddenly he’d would be hit with a wave of grace as he remembered the smell of your light perfume. It was even beginning to infect his dreams.

Dreams that…were far more pleasant as of late.

In his dreams, you’d sit with him and talk out in some meadow somewhere. Perhaps you’d go on and on about the book of Yoba all the while you steadily inched closer and closer to him before you’d place a hand on his arm. Your chest touching him as your sweet words grew more sensual, forgoing the talk of holiness to instead invite Shane to touch you through your clothes.

But before getting to the good part?

He’d always wake up, left with an aching hard-on and his alarm screaming at him to get ready for work.

That was the first and possibly the only time that Shane began to believe that there may have been such a thing as "The Devil". After all, why else would he suddenly have these thoughts of someone who just arrived in town a few days ago? Especially someone so out of his league?! Also, the two of you only met once and you probably didn't even remember his name!

But after the fourth time of waking up, his own brain once again blue-balling him?

He knew he had to see you in person.

Even if it was just to hear your voice again.

. . .

So, the next day, he went to the shrine of Yoba where he knew you'd be.

And the second he knocked on the door, you responded with a gentle "Come in" before he stepped inside. And...he couldn't help but feel like a black sheep amongst all the holy symbols and the gentle sound of a religious choir playing from a phone, suddenly, the paranoia of Yoba knowing about Shane's unholy imagination of you began to glare up. He felt as if he was going to burst into flames as punishment for daring to offend a sacred place with his presence!

Once he had turned a corner and saw you sitting on a pew, facing the statue of Yoba however...all of a sudden, he was calm and he remembered why he was there.

He simply wanted to confess his sins and have someone hear him out.

"Shane?" You said as you turned around, a smile immediately jumping onto your features. "I thought that was you! It's easy to recognize grumpy voices in this town."

He rolled his eyes.

"Can I help you with anything? What's going on?"

When he opened his mouth, he realize that he didn't have a single clue about how to admit that he wanted to confess his sins. Especially when those sins revolved around you (not that he'd ever dare to say that part out loud). "I uh...want to confess my sins."

Your smile grew. "Oh? Please, sit." You scooted over on your pew before tapping the space next to you.

Obediently, he sat down but a considerable distance away from you. His hands started to sweat and shake, how was he supposed to confess that you were the source of his sins?! How was he going to tell the pure nun of the valley that he was struggling not to masturbate to you defiling yourself on his unworthy cock? The imagination of your moans combined with the image of you begging him to fuck you against the shrine of Yoba plagued his mind. And what's worse?

He didn't feel an ounce of guilt for it really...he just wanted to be around you. Be it fuel for the mind or something more, he just didn't know.

"...Something tells me that you didn't come to confess." You spoke breaking the silence and snapping him from his thoughts.

His heart dropped to his stomach. Did he do something to give himself away?

"How do you-"

"I've been doing this for a while, you tend to pick up clues." You chuckled. "So tell me, what's really going on? I'm a good listener."

The moment you turned around and looked at him, his breath hitched in his throat as his dream from the night prior suddenly flashed in the forefront of his mind. Your pretty pink lips soaked and glistening from your spit whilst you panted heavily like a bitch in heat, practically for him to do something to you, anything to you. Already, he started to feel his cock twitch inside his boxers, causing Shane to quickly clear his throat and look in front of him.

He tried to think about anything else to keep himself from getting hard in front of you.

"...I've been having weird dreams." He finally admitted. "Dreams that aren't...good."

You hummed to yourself for a moment before you responded. "Like..."I may do something awful" type of bad or another type?"

"Lustful." He muttered.

Like the flip of a dime, it felt like the atmosphere in the room changed.

"You've been lusting after someone?"

He nodded his head.

"Who?"

"Does it matter?" He said snappily, eliciting a chuckle from you.

"Don't be so snappy, I like a bit of gossip as much as the next person..." You scooted closer. "Though, if you've been struggling with these thoughts then...the correct thing for me to say as a nun is to suggest you to stop. To be tempted by the flesh is a sin, your thoughts should never be focused on such things."

Finally, Shane forced himself to look at you, fully expecting you to look at him with some type of reprimanding disgust in your eyes but...he was shocked when he found nothing of the sort. You looked at him like a tiger would eye a piece of prey. "But...?" Shane said.

"But, I as an individual say that you should pursue this person. Who knows, she may like you."

Now that made him snort, there was no way that you would like a drunk like him. He was certain of that. "I'm the town drunk, why would she— you like me?" He decided to be upfront, to which you met his words with shock for a moment before you offered him a simple smile in return.

"Nuns have needs too, and who said this had to be a permanent thing? I'll only be in town for a few more weeks, all your sins will simply...wash away, stay between us, once I leave."

It felt like his dream was becoming truer by the second. Only...you were naughtier than what he originally assumed based on your appearance, but it added to the charm, and with each sugar-coated word that fell from your pretty lips, the further his mind slipped into depravity and what he wanted to do with you as he felt his cock chub up against his thigh. After all, when was the last time he'd gotten his rocks off? His right hand and his brain could only stave off the longing for a real tight cunt for so long!

And as he watched you start to lift your dress and slip your panties down your legs.

He immediately took the plunge.

. . .

"F-Fuck!" You cried out as your legs were spread, Shane on his knees as his lapped at your cunt like a man-starved.

And he might as well have been.

He felt as if he had been in a desert for months and had finally spotted an oasis, your slick upon his tongue was sweet and dripped from your pussy like a nonstop faucet, something that he wasn't going to dare let go to waste as he alternated between tongue-fucking your sex with his tongue and moving onto sucking your clit whilst his calloused fingers plunged in and out of your weeping hole.

And you couldn't get enough of it.

"Sooooo d-deeep...." You whined as your eyes started to roll into the back of your head.

Shane's resolve would've snapped if he hadn't been so focused on both eating yu out and prepping you to take his leaking cock, the sound of you, a nun sounding so fucked out and horny...practically crying out for his tongue and fingers made him rut into the air to try and alleviate the tight feeling within' his pants.

"S-Shane...I'm- I'm cumming-" Your high-pitched whine suddenly died on your lips when Shane stopped pistoning his fingers in and out of you as he stood and shredded his clothes.

"No you aren't lil' slut, you'll be doing that on my dick." He grumbled, his hands practically shaking from how eager he was to get inside of you before he finally freed his dick from its confines and lined himself up to your entrance, his hand coming up to press against the middle of your leg and push it till it nearly touched your chest.

Your mouth opened in a wide O at the size of him, causing the man to chuckle.

"Never had something this big in your pussy?"

You unconsciously shook your head but, your pussy nonetheless twitched in eagerness for the man's cock. Despite Shane's eagerness though, he made sure to be as gentle as he could be with you as he gently pressed his mushroom tip against your hole, the feeling sending a rush of electricity over your skin at the feeling of a cock touching your pussy.

It was strange and...it felt hot. Hotter than what you expected it to be.

Shane gripped his cock at the base before beginning to press his tip against your hole, steadily inserting it into your hole before thrusting forward a little as he steadily filled you. The man groaned at the feeling of your wet walls clenching onto him, almost as if you didn't want to let him go despite you possibly being the first man you've ever been with. "L-Loosen up..." He whispered, already feeling a knot begin to form and tighten in his stomach.

It seemed he hadn't been laid longer than what he originally thought. It took ever ounce of Shane's strength and will not to fuck you like a toy, to be as gentle as he could be until he was certain you were ready to be fucked into the pew like you were begging him to when he first started to eat you out.

Then again, you weren't going to last long either as you had just recently had your orgasm denied.

"Y-You're too big..." You whispered, trying to relax your cunt like instructed to but it hardly seemed to do anything at all. You moaned when you felt Shane's cock twitch at your words, a cocky smirk crawling onto his stubbled features as he leaned closer to you. "I'm big huh?"

You nodded your head breathlessly, a moan tearing from your throat when Shane finally bottomed out inside of you, his hips pressing against your ass whilst he tightened his grip on your leg to keep you from trying to escape the stretch his dick gave you.

"J-Just fuck me..." You hissed, shooting a glare to try and chase your denied orgasm. And the man gladly did as you wished, slowly pulling himself out of you before suddenly slamming back into you, almost knocking the air from your very lungs before he immediately went into a harsh and brutal pace. Shane almost had a mind to tease how you looked, your lips flushed and lips wet from your shared salvia from your earlier kissing session.

Your moans were loud and unbridled, to the point where even he was worrying about whether or not your slutty moans would attract unneeded attention to the shrine!

But as his balls slapped against your ass, the sensation in combination with your cute moans only served to make his balls tighten in anticipation of his impending orgasm. "Oh Yob, r-right there!" You yelped out when Shane suddenly positioned himself to fuck into you deeper, his cock slamming into the deepest part of you with each thrust. Shane then moved his hand down from its position on your leg to your hips, using the leverage to pull you onto his cock as he threw his head back to let out a drawn-out groan.

"Fuuuuccckkkk..." He moaned, his mouth hanging open before he lazily looked back down at you, smiling at your fucked out expression as he spotted drool beginning to dribble out from the corner of your lips.

At that moment, his thumb reached to wipe the drool from the corner of your lips before plucking the digit into his mouth with a smirk at your taste. "Can't believe how lucky I am...Yoba must be real," Shane snickered. "I get to fuck one of his cute lil' slutty nuns...especially one that doesn't know what to do with herself when presented with a real dick in her cunt." He continued as the need to fill you up grew with each thrust.

You nodded stupidly, Shane had an urge to kiss you but...your moans sounded too good for him to risk messing up his position and ruining your pleasure that was causing you to cry out so abashedly.

"C-Cummin-" Your climax hit you like a freight train as your body suddenly went rigid. Your cunt spasmed and clenched impossibly tighter around Shane's cock like a vice grip, nearly making him stutter in his movements as you came around his cock. "Y-Yoba-" He hissed, sucking in his bottom lip as he leaned forward a little at the sheer pleasure your spasming cunt brought him.

Shane only managed a few more thrusts before he spilled into you, his stomach clenching and his body stilling as if it were putting all its remaining energy into filling you up.

A breath he didn't even know he was holding released when he finished and looked back at you. Your gaze was unfocused as your cheeks were flushed red and spit trailed down the corners of your lips.

"Oi, you with me?" Shane said as he pinched your cheeks together with his hand, gently shaking you to try and snap you out of your daze.

You could only respond with a soft moan before you looked at him but not at him. He chuckled, he would accept it for now. He just needed to get you dressed, after all...he definitely wanted to discuss if his confessions with you could be a regular thing, at least...until you left of course.

Elliot - "Forbidden Desires" Proverbs 6:25 - Do not desire her beauty in your heart, and do not let her capture you with her eyelashes;

♡ - When Elliot and you first met. It was on the beach of all things.

Out on the wooden pier that overlooked the ocean. Frequently, the writer would visit here to collect his thoughts for his writing and try to find inspiration from the gentle waves that crashed lightly against the pier and beach alike. Yet it was when he turned his head to the side briefly, the world suddenly seemed to stop on its axis.

He thought you were gorgeous.

Baked in the backdrop light from the sun, he nearly thought you had a halo on your head. Glowing with your holiness that made all the features on your face that much softer, like the way your hooded eyes looked out across the water almost longingly as if you were beckoning for a wave to come and carry you somewhere else. How pieces of your hair escaped your veil and blew with the sea breeze along with your dress.

The longer he admired you quietly, the more he thought you were an ethereal spirit, completely unaware of how you were tempting him despite your outfit telling him that you were the sister that the town had been expecting for about a week now. It was your job to be a role model as to how not to sin.

Yet...he wanted to do the opposite- "Are you going to keep looking at me, or will you say hello?" Your voice snapped Elliot from his thoughts before he finally noticed you were looking at him with a curious but soft gaze, a smile gracing your features when you saw how his cheeks began to tint red.

"E-Excuse me." He said as he stood up and dusted himself off. "I was just in shock, I wasn't expecting the long-awaited nun to be at the beach."

As the two of you stood side by side, he noticed how you were shorter than himself. "Oh," You said. "Did I interrupt your alone time?" You smiled.

Elliot smiled and shook his head. "Oh no, I don't think you could ever do that." He responded, your mouth hanging open a little as a blush of your own started to coat your cheeks. It was then that Elliot quickly cleared his throat and tried to find a way to apologize. It seemed like he wasn't himself, his thoughts kept coming out before he could fully think about whether he could say them or not!

"Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

You then turned your body fully to face him. "Oh, you're not doing that. I find your forwardness charming." You were dangerous for Elliot's heart, the way you looked up at him made his mouth dry while equally making him feel as if he were floating amongst the clouds. Up until you caught his attention again with a laugh. "What's your name?"

"Elliot," He answered immediately.

"Y/N." You responded. "It'll be hard for me to come to the beach with my duties and all...you should try visiting the shrine in the Pierre's shop. I'll be there most of the time."

"How long will you be staying in town?"

"Two weeks." He struggled not to immediately frown at that answer, all while he simultaneously struggled to not throw a curse at Yoba for making him feel this strongly about one of his devoted followers. Elliot could be frank with himself, he knew that you would be in his every waking thought from this point onward. All he'd think about is how to get closer to you, get to know you and so much more!

"I hope you'll enjoy your two weeks here then sister." He finally said.

"Oh, I'm certain I will." Then you turned to walk away, your faint perfume tickling Elliot's nose as he was left along with his thoughts, his thoughts settling on the newfound fact that you were his muse.

All of a sudden, his inspiration to write came to him like rushing waves during a typhoon. Stories of how a man fell into a forbidden relationship with a woman, or perhaps a shorter tale of how a man falls in love with a spirit, someone he longed for but knew he couldn't ultimately have. Yet, as all the thoughts flew through his mind. One thing was for certain, you left him with a burning ache in his pants.

. . .

Later that night, he admittedly felt slightly guilty for palming himself over his pants at the thought of you. The pretty nun with the soft voice and heavenly features, although Elliot tried not to think too hard about your words from earlier, to not misunderstand how you phrased your words or how you looked at him as a signal for something more...the image in his head was far too addicting to let go so easily.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock while he sucked at your breasts, planting kisses all over your body as you moaned for more...was it wrong of him to have those thoughts? Then again, surely you knew how you sounded when you spoke to him on the beach! You sounded like you were interested in him! That you may have wanted to pursue something more with—

"Ah...look at me," Elliot murmured to himself, running his fingers through his hair as he scoffed at how ridiculous his thoughts were.

You were a nun.

You were just being friendly!

What he was doing was wrong. To think about a holy sister was potentially one of the greatest sins (at least, to what he knew about the book of Yoba).

Perhaps he needed Yoba more than he realized.

. . .

And that’s what prompted him to visit Pierre’s shop three days later, specifically where he knew you’d be, the Shrine of Yoba.

Elliot’s plans were simple, to confess his sins, receive your judgement and advice, then leave. Of course though, he’s leave out the part where his thoughts revolved around you despite the fact the both of you hadn’t known each other for that long. But once he was standing right in front of the door that would lead into the shrine…he felt like his entire body had frozen in place.

Were you actually a nun or secretly a demon? He thought.

No person should ever have power over another like this. But the moment Elliot’s nerves loosened up a little, he quickly knocked a few times on the door before a gentle “Come in” could be heard from inside, causing him to walk in before he immediately saw you getting up from your kneeling position at the shrine.

You smoothened out your clothes and then looked at Elliot with the same angelic look you gave him the first time you met him. “Elliot?” You said. “You came.”

He nodded his head, keeping his head down just long enough in an attempt to ease his blushing. “I figured I was overdue for confessing my sins.”

“Don’t be silly,” You chuckled. “We all come and confess our sins when we’re ready, there’s no pressure.”

It was easy for you to say, he thought.

You weren’t the one who was losing sleep over imagining the naked form of the person you just met. And as Elliot walked to sit on one of the pews, the more he couldn’t help but think that this may have been a bad idea. Although your attire was similar to what you wore on the beach, he didn’t know if his eyes were tricking him or not but…your clothing appeared…tighter.

Around your chest to be more precise and it was driving him nuts.

He silently begged Yoba that you wouldn’t come close enough to where you’d be able to spot his steadily growing hard-on. And thankfully, you kept your distance via sitting on the pew just in front of him with your back turned.

“Now, you may confess when you’re ready to begin.” You murmured a quick prayer before clearing your throat as a sign you were attentive and listening.

Elliot sighed. "Sister, I've been...well- I've had unholy thoughts as of late. Thought that revolve around a woman that I'm infatuated with."

When you didn't say anything in response, he continued.

"She's the most beautiful woman I've ever been blessed to see. But it would be wrong for me to pursue a relationship with her."

That was when you spoke. "May I ask why?"

Elliot's throat bobbed up and down at the question. "She's a nun."

The silence that followed was so loud that it nearly rang in his ears. Yet, as you turned around to face him, his mouth immediately fell open to apologize until a certain glint flashed in your ears as you looked at him with a smile, a finger tugging at the collar of your uniform.

"And...what do you want to do with this nun?"

"I want to kiss her." At his confession, it was like a string had broken before you and Elliot's lips crashed together. In the writer's mind, it was as if your lips were meant to be with his own, the taste of your mint-flavored lipstick addicting to his tastebuds as he felt around in your mouth. Your breathing became heavier, pressing yourself as close to Elliot as you possibly could despite the pew that still separated the two of you. "What else do you want to do to me?" You panted when you both separated, your breaths labored and heavy as a single string of spit still connected you two.

Elliot silently eyed the rest of your body.

"May I show you, sister?"

. . .

Had you known the man you met a few days ago was capable of this. You would've fucked him right then and there out on that wooden pier.

The position Elliot currently had you in was making you see stars and galaxies behind your eyes, your legs spread out on his lips as he held you tight against his form, almost as if he were afraid you'd disappear right before his eyes whilst he fucked up into you like a man on a mission. Each thrust making his cock assault your sweet spot deep inside you, you felt as if your organs were molding and reshaping themselves just to better fit Elliot's cock.

"Y-Yoba's name..." He whispered hotly against your neck, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck and all the way down to your exposed collarbones from him hastily pulling down the front of your dress. "Y-You're so tight-" Elliot grit his teeth together as he groaned against your skin.

However, each time he fucked up into you, the sound of your sexes meeting reverberated throughout the small area of the shrine as your slick poured down from your pussy to pool and coat the front of Elliot's thighs, you were starting to...feel something.

A certain coil beginning to tighten tighter and tighter by the second in your stomach.

Compared to the orgasms you've given yourself in the past, privately when you were in your room or in an area you were certain was vacant of other people. This one was more intense and threatened to wash over you with such a force that you worried you'd pass out from the intensity! But, it was hard to voice such a worry when you were being fucked to the point that you couldn't utter a single syllable, to where you nearly had a mind to forgo this life and simply be the plaything of Elliot for the rest of your days.

"E-Elliot...!" You keened as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, Elliot's thrusts somehow growing even more ruthless as he tucked his face into the valley between your breasts.

"Shit..." You managed to hear him breathe out.

Your mouth steadily started to form a large O shape as the coil inside your tummy tightened more and more until it finally burst.

Suddenly Elliot stilled his movements to raise your dress higher to witness the wetness that flowed from your pussy like a fountain spewing water, his mouth dropping in shock whilst the lust inside his eyes grew at the arousing sight of your orgasm spewing from your cunt and splattering onto his thighs.

He was only snapped from his trance when he heard your fucked-out moan and your hand tap his shoulder.

"Truly, you are the woman of my dreams," Elliot said with an equally fucked-out voice as if he were the one who just came. "Do that again." Your eyes snapped open as you tried to quickly voice your protest but not before your words were shooed from your lips when the writer fucked up into you again, resuming his previous pace before he gently leaned you back, his hand resting on the small of your back to keep you steady whilst his other went to lift your leg higher so that he had a better view of your cunt.

The squelching noises were like a symphony to his ears.

But all he could think about was you squirting again.

The pew you both sat and fucked on was already dirty...defiled.

It didn't matter to defile it some more.

"Please, squirt on my cock again," Elliot begged. "Will this help my dear? Don't hold back, please." Without a single word of warning, the hand that held your leg up dived down to rub quick circles on your clit with his index and middle finger.

"F-Fuck! Elliot...baby, w-wait- you're going to-" Your entire body shook and convulsed from overstimulation as you struggled to keep your head and thoughts straight, moans falling from your lips shamelessly as you could hear Elliot's raspy moans and throaty groans, the sexy noises only serving to make you clench around the writer's experienced fingers.

Elliot took your pussy getting tight as a sign you were close once again, causing him to speed up both his thrusts and his fingers as they rubbed side to side without abandon on your clit. You tried to cry out for him to slow down, to give you a short break but your moans fell on deaf ears as Elliot only silenced you via fucking you harder to the point your moans took the place of the words you wanted to say as he abused your cunt. "Ahhh...." You moaned in pleasure as you felt something begin to well up inside you again.

"E-Elliot- f-fuck...." You couldn't do anything else but whine and beg, his name slipping from your lips repeatedly as his fingers on your clit sped up whilst he rose you forward a little to plant kisses along your breasts.

"Don't be embarrassed my dear," He whispered against your skin. "Just cum, I got you...please." At the sounds of his begging, that earlier feeling of a coil beginning to tighten started to nearly grow unbearable inside you, your eyes barely staying open as you allowed your body to take all the pleasure your eager lover was bestowing onto you.

"Oh, Yoba...fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-" Your body once again grew rigid as Elliot's eyes darted to where the two of you were connected, his eyes widening as your pussy clenched onto him tighter than before as a clear liquid squirted out from you and around his dick. Upon seeing that sight, he wasn't too far behind from his climax, managing a few more hard thrusts before his head dropped forward a little as he moaned.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath until it was you who broke the silence as you steadily rose your head and slid your hands to rest on Elliot's shoulders with a soft moan and a dopey smile. "You know..." Your voice was hoarse as your hand moved to catch Elliot's chin under your hand before you tilted his head back to make you look at him.

You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, a sweet lovesick moan leaving the writer's lips before a smile slowly came onto his lips. "We should do this again."

"How..." Elliot took a moment to further catch his breath. "How long will you be in town?"

"Couple of months, we can discuss about this being a regular thing as well as...you possibly taking me out on a date next?"

He couldn't think of anything better.

Sebastion - "Hungry Recluse" Genesis 2:18 - Then the Lord God said, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.”

♡ - He had heard about a nun coming to the valley when his mother brought it up at dinner a few weekends ago. And back then? He didn't have a mind to care really.

He was a recluse.

He had nothing against religion but he preferred to stay away from crowds. If a nun was to come to the valley then he was more than certain you would bring a crowd, preaching about Yoba and the likes and he respectfully wanted no part of that.

So, imagine his shock one night when he was outside his home smoking. Only to spot a nun doing the same.

"A nun, smoking?" He nearly choked on his own cigarette. His words catching your attention before you cursed under your breath before you dropped your cigarette and quickly stomped on it with the heel of your shoe.

"Goddamn it..."

He scoffed. "And you curse too?"

You rolled your eyes. "If you're going to snitch to someone, do it now." As Sebastion stared, thinking about how much he wasn't going to snitch to anyone (after all, he believed it wasn't his place nor did he feel like anyone would believe him should he have wanted to do it). He couldn't help but think about how...well, how pretty you looked.

You sported a more roguish look to your uniform compared to what he was originally thinking you'd look like. Clean outfit with a bright smile, maybe a hand carrying a bible or the cross of Yoba perhaps. Instead? One side of your dress was bunched up, exposing quite a considerable amount of thigh as well as the black stocking you wore underneath, and the similarly colored boots that would've typically been hidden underneath.

Your make-up was gothic and you had a septum piercing along with a couple more piercings on the outer edge of your right ear.

And if he was seeing things right...was that black nail polish on your fingers- "Are you going to keep staring?" You said bitingly.

"Sorry," He apologized, quickly looking somewhere else. "I just didn't expect the nun to be-"

"A sinner?" You interrupted with a heavy sigh.

"Different." He finished his sentence.

You clicked your tongue. "Yeah well...that's what you get when you're an unwilling member of the church." You spilled.

Now he was really curious about you. This entire time, he had expected a goody two-shoes sister who would rave on and on about Yoba anytime that they could! Or maybe even some old hag as old as Evelyn was, nagging and constantly haggling people about converting and praying more to Yoba.

But instead? The town received neither.

Only you.

And he was absolutely enthralled by you.

So much so that he found himself unconsciously walking up to you before he cleared his throat. "Do...you want to talk about it?"

"I'm not looking for pity if that's what you're-"

"I'm not trying to pity you." He interrupted. "You just seem to be in need of a confessional as much as anyone else." He shrugged, his words sparking a chuckle that sounded like a melody in his ears.

. . .

And that was the beginning of you and Sebastion's relationship.

One where you two would meet under the guise of night every other day after you had finished your "performance" during the day of playing the innocent nun who wanted to spread the word of Yoba. Something that Sebastion quickly learned was nothing but complete bullshit. The two of you would rant about your lives and how much you two wished you could change things.

Whether it was from Sebastion's dreams of moving away from Pelican Town and into the city, to you ironically praying to Yoba that he'd give you an outing from the church.

The one day you'd be free.

"...Why are you stuck in the church?" Sebastion had asked one day, lighting your cigarette before his own.

You blew a puff of smoke before sighing. "Mommy and daddy had unresolved debts and issues." You said. "To pay 'em off, they got rid of me." You continued.

"Now I wear this damn get-up and play "Good follower of Yoba"." You mumbled a few curses under your breath afterward, ones that made Sebastion snicker under his breath as he considered your situation. Although obviously different, the similarities in your stories were eerily similar. The two of you longed for another life, felt as if you didn't belong in the current one you both lived, and, as much as you both could, you tried to actively change that.

But...where Sebastion could easily pack some things, get on his bike, and head for the city.

You didn't have that luxury.

"Why don't you move here?"

"Unresolved debts remember?"

"I know but...there's a lot of abandoned places here in the valley. We even have an abandoned farm not too far from here. You could live there."

"My cage would be no different then, just a new window to look out of."

A small smile crept onto your features when you spotted an apologetic frown appear on Sebastion's face. One that made you flush a little as his cheeks appeared puffier and cuter. You appreciated being able to talk to him, more than you'd ever be able to convey but...you weren't looking for sympathy or solutions to escaping that only involved you living a life on the run and in hiding.

In truth? Being asked by the higher-ups to visit this small town, meeting Sebastion?

It was as close to a blessing from Yoba as you'd ever get.

Back home, you were a glorified maid if not eye candy for old men. You'd clean for them, cook for them, bring them drinks...it was such a dull life. You hadn't even been able to go to college. You couldn't even do most math but you could damn well recite random passages from the book of Yoba.

You hadn't nor would ever be able to find love!

All talks of boys and falling in love were strictly forbidden, seen as nothing more than a gateway for potential sinning, something you'd eventually learn was nothing but complete hogwash as there were plenty of times you've seen your fellow sisters open their legs for priests when it pertained to the topic of being able to get away with some things. Here in the valley though? You didn't feel that pressure.

You liked it here.

You liked...well, you liked the people. They were nice.

"You should be happy here Sebastion." You said, breaking the silence.

"You have a good life here, it may not be the one you want it's the one that's the best path for you at the moment."

Sebastion rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say, you don't live here."

"Maybe, but I'd need a million more fingers in order to count how many situations are worse than this." You sighed. "After all...you never know, one day you may find yourself liking it here. Life is funny like that." At those words, you placed a gentle hand ontop of Sebastion's for only a brief moment before you got up and walked away.

An act that only served to leave Sebastion's heart skipping beats and...strangely upset.

. . .

And he must've sat outside for an extra thirty minutes before he finally went inside.

Dinner tasted bland, and all of a sudden Demetrius' snide remarks and insults didn't even make him turn nor lift his head to briefly glare! All Sebastion could think about was you.

You, you, you, you, you.

He didn't know what sounded weirder or more pathetic.

Him chasing after you like he was in some chick-flick, exclaiming how he wanted to be with you despite only knowing you for going on close to a week now. Or if he said that you were the only person in this entire town who seemed to understand him! The only one who made him truly happy aside from the small yet rare-found joys in his life! He could introduce you to his friends, Sam and Abigail, he thought you'd get alone well with them.

Maybe you could teach Sam to play new songs? He remembered you mentioning how you knew how to play the guitar a little. Or maybe you could simply be another girl added to the group, someone for Abigail to hang out and talk with.

As Sebastion sat on his bed. His mind further diving into his racing thoughts that concerned you, so many situations revolving around the question of 'What if?' that he could barely keep track of them all! He wondered then about what if you'd be another addition to the farming community here. If you would actually take over that abandoned farm.

What would you grow, would you be good at it or would you only prefer animals like Marnie?

Or...maybe you'd be something else?

A writer like that one guy who lived at the beach with Willy.

Or maybe an inspiring somebody like himself or Sam?

Another member to the Adventurer's Guild perhaps?

He considered it all but the one scenario that made his heart strangely ache the most was...if you were with him.

You made him smile the most out of everyone here. Sebastion enjoyed your curt personality that blended well with your shockingly soft tendencies. You were pretty and when your lips weren't covered in dark lipstick, they shined a surprisingly glistening red. Your eyes were the most gorgeous underneath the moonlight ad your figure (if he couldn't guess from the first moment he met you) was something that made his jaw drop every single time.

Suddenly, there was a throb in his pants at the thought of what you'd look like underneath your clothes.

But no, even if you stated you didn't want to be a nun.

He'd give you the respect all the same. He wouldn't dare to do anything inappropriate with your face in mind. It wouldn't be right.

. . .

But oh...did he think it would feel so right.

It wasn't a bad thing to touch himself to the thought of you, was it? You weren't there and so long as you didn't know then technically sin would have ever been committed! At least, that's what he comforted himself with as he furiously jerked himself off underneath his covers, breathless moans leaving his lips as he imagined it was your hand stroking him off rather than his own.

And as he did so, he swore he was more turned on than he ever had been in his entire life.

He imagined you were wearing your dark lipstick as your hand went down to massage his balls, your lipstick leaving smudge trails up and down his cock as you flattened your tongue to trail along the prominent vein that ran on the underside of his cock. Yet as you did so, you kept a firm eye on him as you looked at him through your lashes.

"You must've been so pent up Sebby..." His cock twitched at the nickname. "Waiting for me to do this to you, you must've been thinking about this since the day we've met. Huh?" A whine left escaped him at your words, his vision beginning to blur from both pleasure and growing embarrassment as his cock began to leak more and more pre.

"Not going to answer~?" You purred. "That's okay, you seem to be way more talkative down here than with that mouth of yours."

"P-Please..." He whispered.

Your smirk grew as your hand quickened in its pace, your face leaning in closer to his to the point he could almost imagine your breath gently blowing on his face. "Please fuck me..." He moaned. "R-Ride my cock, j-just do something more with me."

"Such a good boy~"

As you sat up, you licked the tips of your fingers clean from his pre as straddled him to where your pussy hovered over his cock. He twitched at the feeling of your heat, his eyes glued on your dripping pussy before your finger tipped his head to look back up at you. "Keep your eyes on me." You ordered before swiftly pressing a kiss to his lips. A choked-up moan escaped Sebastion's lips when you suddenly sunk yourself onto him. Your hips immediately started a fast pace that made his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Until you suddenly slowed down. "W-Wha...?" He said dizzily, looking back at you. "Why-"

"Eyes on me Sebby~ or what? Is my pussy too good for you to listen to me?" You suddenly slammed your hips down, Sebastion's hand gripping the bedsheets with a loud moan before you resumed your original pace. "You should be following what I say more diligently than this Sebastion" You pouted. "A holy nun is giving you her untouched pussy, the least you could do is look at her~"

"Y-Yes!" He moaned. Tears flowed down the sides of Sebastion's face as he kept his eyes on you, the sounds of his balls slapping against your cunt echoing throughout the room as a familiar knot steadily started to appear in the pit of his stomach. His cock twitching inside your warm pussy as the feeling of your walls nearly drove him to insanity.

Your moans, your face contorting in pleasure as your hands roamed up and down his chest underneath his hoodie. Everything about you made him want to exclaim just how much he had developed a crush on you, something that he wanted to take farther rather than just simply have sex with you. Yet, as the heat in his belly turned white-hot, his moans sounded closer to wails as he begged to cum.

He had to remind himself that this wasn't real.

You weren't even here.

Something that was slapped into him the second he felt his cum pool over the top of the hole he made with his hand rather than feeling it fill you up.

"Y/N..." He moaned as if you'd magically appear before him.

Tomorrow, he would definitely confess his feelings. Religion be damned, he knew that he wanted something with you.

[shadowtriovibes]

can you write one where f!MC is being pursued by an annoying guy she doesn’t like who won’t take no for an answer. it annoys sebastian just as much as it annoys her, so next time it happens he pretends to be her boyfriend and suggests they start fake dating for good measure. eventually they make it for real.

thank you! i love the fake relationship trope sooo much and i’ve yet to see anyone write one with sebastian.

of course, lovely anon!! i haven't seen any fake relationship fic either so i'm happy to contribute a lil something! tbh i sincerely thought this would be a short ficlet but it ended up being just over 2.5k fluffy words of dummies in love 🤩

Title: rumor has it

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back.

"Northcott," Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. "Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?" "Your girlfriend?" Eric asks skeptically. "That's new." "I suppose it is," Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. "Been a long time coming, though." Across the room, Ominis laughs under his breath.

Sebastian Sallow is an excellent young wizard. Clever, well-read, focused – by all accounts, he should be a brilliant strategist.

But sometimes he comes up with the worst ideas you’ve ever heard.

“You musn’t be serious, Sebastian,” you laugh, closing your potions textbook to appreciate the actual madness of what he’d just suggested.

“Why not?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes as you tell him, “You can’t just pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Earlier that afternoon, the two of you had met up with Ominis in the Undercroft to study after staging a quick exit from the library. While Sebastian was hunting down a book on ancient runes, Eric Northcott had cornered you in the stacks and tried for the second time to convince you to have a Butterbeer with him at the Three Broomsticks instead of “hiding that gorgeous face behind those dusty books like you always do.”

When Sebastian had returned, you were shoving the Gryffindor boy away from you with a tense look on your face, and if he hadn’t just finished a stint of evening detentions for slipping a Puffskein into Duncan Hobhouse’s schoolbag, he would have hexed the amorous git himself.

Since then, he’d been suggesting ways to make him pay, with each idea more fantastical than the last.

“Sure I can, and we can even make a real show of it,” he says with a charming grin. “If you want to get Northcott off your back for good, let’s allow him to think your handsome, roguish boyfriend is the type who would challenge him to a duel if he tries anything untoward.”

“That is a terrible plan,” you deadpan.

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ominis chimes in.

You glare at him, because Ominis never thinks that Sebastian’s ideas are any good – even the ones that aren’t completely bonkers.

“What are you playing at, Gaunt?” you accuse him.

“I’m merely suggesting that Northcott may actually accept your contempt for him if it’s for a reason that allows him to save face,” he explains with a secretive smile. “Simply telling him that you’re not interested hasn’t seemed to work thus far, so why not be creative?”

“Creative?” you snort. “Wouldn’t ‘creative’ be blasting him myself the next time he lays a hand on me?”

“As if you need any worse of a reputation,” Ominis drawls, and he has a point.

“Come on, let’s really mess with him,” Sebastian pleads. “You know he deserves to be taken down a peg or two.”

You’re not surprised that Sebastian is able to get you on board so quickly. Truthfully, you think you’d follow him on his harebrained schemes just about anywhere.

“Fine,” you cautiously agree. “But just to scare him off, alright?”

You swear you can see the gears in Sebastian’s head start to turn immediately.

He kicks off his brilliant plan the next day during your N.E.W.T.-level potions class. You’re supposed to be brewing an antidote to Veritaserum, and while the draught itself isn’t necessarily difficult, some of the ingredients are a little tricky to prepare.

You’re focused on trying to carefully slit open some Sopophorous beans when you felt a presence behind you, and then Eric Northcott is draping his arm across your shoulders.

“Need a hand with those?” he offers, trying to sound congenial.

“I’m fine, Eric,” you insist.

“I’m really quite good at potions, you know,” he reminds you, grabbing one of the paring knives off the table and haphazardly slicing one of the beans you’d laid out. “I’d be happy to give you some hands-on lessons if you’d like, one-on-one of course.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis hisses from across the room, having picked up on the conversation while the other boy poured over his notes on wormwood. “Now might be a good time to offer some gentlemanly assistance.”

His eyes narrow when he spots Northcott leaning over your cauldron, clearly trying to sneak a look down your top.

“Don’t let my antidote burn,” Sebastian mumbles as he storms across the room, as if Ominis would ever spare a thought for Sebastian’s cauldron when the show is about to begin.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him notice your predicament, silently pleading him with your eyes to do something to get you out of it.

“Northcott,” Sebastian greets him, leaning against your potions station and resting a hand possessively on the small of your back. “Is there something my girlfriend can help you with?”

“Your girlfriend?” Eric asks skeptically. “That’s new.”

“I suppose it is,” Sebastian agrees, nonplussed. “Been a long time coming, though.”

Across the room, Ominous laughs under his breath.

“Really?” Eric asks dubiously, briefly glancing at your expression. “I was under the impression that the two of you were just ‘best friends.’”

“Well, shouldn’t a good relationship start out as a friendship?” you counter, though you don’t sound entirely convincing.

“Right,” he says slowly.

“Mate, you know how tough she is,” Sebastian says with a charming grin. “Took me ages to convince her to give me a chance, she strung me right along for months.”

You jump slightly when Sebastian slides his hand across your back to your waist, tugging you closer to his side – and out from under Eric’s arm.

“But she finally took pity on me,” he says with a lovelorn sigh, and you narrow your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh, Sebastian,” you reply, laughing nervously. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love with you,” he says, quickly leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

Before you can react, Professor Sharp wanders by and instructs you all to stop your dallying and focus on your draughts. Eric spares one more skeptical look at the two of you before returning to his cauldron.

Sebastian’s hand on your waist lingers for a moment even after he’s gone, but then he lets it fall.

“Sorry about that,” he says under his breath. “Had to sell it, you’re really a bad liar, you know.”

You think Sebastian doesn’t know the half of it.

(Sebastian’s just glad you avoided his gaze long enough to miss his deep red blush.)

—

As it turns out, the kiss wasn’t enough to convince Northcott that you were properly off the market.

The rumor mill quickly focuses on you and Sebastian – specifically whether or not it’s true that your platonic friendship has become something more.

“I don’t really believe it,” Nerida claims whenever the subject comes up. “Sebastian has always seemed like the bachelor type.”

“He could have had a girlfriend all this time and never has,” Violet agrees, trying to hide her bitterness. “I don’t think he really wants to be in a relationship.”

“Are you joking?” Imelda scoffs. “Sallow’s been a lovesick puppy over that girl for years, I’m just glad she finally came around.”

“She is very protective of him,” Grace speculates. “I remember when Samantha Dale asked him out last fall, I thought she was going to Depulso the poor girl clear across the courtyard!”

You do your best to ignore it, but Ominis stubbornly insists on telling you everything he’s heard.

“I would have thought that the two of you would be better at pulling off a ruse as simple as this,” he says, disappointment dripping from his words. “How hard can it be to pretend to like Sebastian? I don’t have to see him to know that the whole school thinks he’s handsome.”

“You don’t understand,” you sigh, walking alongside him on the way to arithmancy. “It’s… I don’t have to pretend, if you know what I mean.”

“Come now,” he says quietly. “I’m blind, not dim.”

“Then you do understand!” you whine. “How am I supposed to just let him pretend to be my boyfriend to ward off Eric and not go mad from knowing that it’s all a lie?”

“I suppose me telling you to be honest with him about how you feel would go in one ear and right out the other,” Ominis suggests, smirking to himself when you curse at him under your breath.

“Buck up, then,” he says simply. “I’m sure this whole thing will blow up in some spectacular way sooner than later – it is Sebastian, after all.”

—

As per usual, Ominis is correct.

Not even a full day goes by before Sebastian corners you outside the Hufflepuff common room and asks to walk you to dinner, taking your hand in his as soon as he notices some fifth-years studiously watching the two of you as you make your way to the Great Hall.

“I missed you this afternoon,” he tells you as he walks you upstairs, putting on a good show. “How come you didn’t want to study with Ominis and me after class?”

“I just needed to lie down for a little while,” you tell him, not wanting to admit to avoiding the way he’s been so unbearably charming lately.

“Feeling alright?” he asks concernedly.

“Yes,” you tell him. “Just… I don’t know. Out of sorts, I guess.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks.

You get distracted by the feeling of him stroking his thumb along your wristbone reassuringly.

“Um… n-no, I don’t think so,” you stutter.

“Surely there’s something I can do to help,” he says, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way his eyes look a little darker than usual, as if his pupils have entirely taken over.

“Like what?” you breathe.

Then he gets that look on his face that he always gets when he’s about to do something stupid.

“Come with me,” he says, tugging you over to a spot along the wall in the reception hall, next to one of those empty cabinets you’d looted for Nellie Oggspire back in your fifth year.

“Sebastian, w-what–” you stammer.

He presses you against the wall, one hand pressed to your waist and the other flat against the stone behind you, boxing you in. He glances around again and clearly spots whatever it was he was looking for, grinning mischievously before he leans in and traces his nose across your cheek.

“Don’t hex me for this,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he’s kissing you.

You melt against the cool stone wall, tipping your head back so Sebastian can tilt his head against yours and completely overtake your senses with his demanding kisses. Without consciously deciding to, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you, desperate to ensure he stays right where he is.

He kisses you well, you think. You know he’s always been a huge flirt, and that he has taken some girls in your year on dates to Hogsmeade over the years, but you’ve desperately avoided any post-date conversations with him because you did not want to know what he and those girls had gotten up to afterward.

Now you know, you think bitterly, but just as quickly you realize you don’t actually care. He’s skilled at this – nipping at your bottom lip to get you to open up for him, sliding his hand between your robes and your dress shirt so he can feel the curve of your waist, nudging a knee between your thighs to pin you even further to the wall.

“Bastian,” you murmur, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He groans against your mouth like he can’t help himself, and you whine a touch too loudly when he grinds his hips against yours.

Then you hear Eric’s voice call out, “Sallow!”

Sebastian looks like sin when he pulls away from you, and not just because his hair is a little mussed from your helpless tugging and his lips are red and swollen.

It’s because he’s smirking, and you quickly realize he’d planned this entire thing.

He’d pulled you to a spot where the Gryffindors on their way to dinner could easily see you being ravished, and it’s not just Eric he’s caught up in it – it’s Leander and Cressida too, some of the worst gossips in the entire castle.

…You are absolutely going to hex him for this, you think.

“Northcott,” Sebastian drawls as he turns around. “Can I help you?”

Eric looks furious, but at least he doesn’t look skeptical anymore.

“You might want to consider someplace a bit more private,” he offers, seething. “I am a prefect, after all. Could send you to detention for being so lewd in public.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says easily. “In fact, maybe you ought to send us both. Hardly anywhere’s as private as the dungeons.”

You quickly smack Sebastian in the chest with the back of your hand, wordlessly begging him to stop before you actually do have to report to detention.

Mercifully, Eric simply throws a few choice words at Sebastian and stomps off to the Great Hall, Leander and Cressida on his heels to undoubtedly tell the entire school what just happened.

“You’re evil,” you hiss, still catching your breath. “You arranged all that just to embarrass Eric? To embarrass me like that?”

He frowns, confused. “No I didn’t, and I would never embarrass you.”

“You did!” you whine, shoving at his shoulders so he’ll step back. “They’re going to tell everyone and it’s going to make me sound like – like some pathetic girl who’s so desperate to avoid Eric’s attention that she’ll let her best friend feel her up in a busy hallway.”

“That’s not what they’ll think,” Sebastian argues. “And if anyone’s pathetic, love, it’s me.”

You scoff and wrap your arms around yourself, ashamed at how badly you wish you were still wrapped up in his arms instead despite everything you’re saying.

“You think I’m lying?” he asks derisively. “I’m a fool for you, and I would never hurt you. I kissed you like that because I wanted to, and if it happened to embarrass Northcott in the process, that’s even better.”

“Y-you wanted to?” you ask softly.

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” he finally admits.

His hands twitch at his sides like he wants to reach out for you, but he forces himself to behave.

“It’s the reason I came up with this stupid plan in the first place,” he sighs. “So that if anyone at this damn school gets to have the pleasure of walking you to class, or taking you to the Three Broomsticks or – or even kissing you senseless somewhere everyone could see, it would be me.”

You don’t have any words. But even if you did, there’s nothing you’d want to say to him that you couldn’t communicate by tugging him in by his collar and kissing him like you can’t think straight without his touch, so you do just that.

When you both break away to breathe, Sebastian quickly asks, “Are you actually hungry?”

“Not anymore,” you admit, your gaze still on his lips.

Sebastian barely manages to utter the words “Undercroft” and “hurry” in between kisses, but while he determinedly works a claiming bruise into the side of your neck, you whine, “Your common room’s closer.”

—

Once Ominis overhears Cressida waxing poetic about Sebastian Sallow practically mounting his new girlfriend in the hallway by the Grand Staircase, he doesn’t wonder why the two of you never show up for dinner.

[damaged-sunflower]

Warnings: MDNI, Stepcest, Smut,

Stepdad Konig growing attached to his wife's daughter. He loves how small and innocent you are.

Konig doing movies and cuddles with you while your mom works late.

Konig insisting on buying you cute outfits to wear that barely cover your body but he just makes you feel so damn pretty that you want to show them off to him. :(

Konig knowing damn well this is wrong considering you're only 18 and he's in his mid forties.

Konig bending you over the counter when you come down in a short nightgown, scolding you for teasing him in such a way wearing that around him. He drives his point in with each sharp snap of this hips.

You purposefully wearing pigtails, thigh high socks, calling him daddy and just sending this man one foot into the fucking grave from all the blood going to his dick every time.

Konigs hands are so big in your small frame and you can't help but feel helpless below the large man.

Your stomach bulges when he's all the way in, purring praises about how good you look stretched around him.

"So tight, Schatz."

"Good little Maus."

Konig pounding your hole desperately while you try to hold it together on the phone with your mom.

You love your step dad more than one should.