#thought permanence. like if i do not write something down in a place where i can see it regularly i will forget it.

[thedreadvampy]

my therapist spent today's session making Faces at me about getting an ADHD diagnosis

which

I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the possibility of seeking an ADHD diagnosis but she might not be a billion miles off

I was describing how I get "fizzy bored" where I have no energy or ability to move and nothing holds my attention but I feel like my bones are trying to vibrate out of me with the desire to be Doing Things and she was like 🤔 and I got onto the fact that I often need to be doing 3-4 things at once to ease into focusing on one and she was like 🤨 and then I mentioned how I find it really difficult to start doing things but once I'm in it I'm super focused and she was like 😌 have you considered the possibility of an ADHD diagnosis?

and so I explained that I don't really see the point because even though, unlike EDS and autism, a diagnosis could suggest an actual treatment, I don't really feel like anything I've described is disabling me cause I have the tools to manage it now most of the time and I feel Fizzy Bored WAY less often these days. and she was like 🤨

and I was like yeah to be fair actually I did use to think that about chronic pain, trauma and having shit eyesight and doing something about them did really change my experience. and she was like 😌 and I was like and actually now we mention it the fact that I sometimes for NO REASON AT ALL simply put off doing things even though they would be really easy to do and I want to do them for LITERAL YEARS is maybe. A thing that it might be nice to change if I could. And she was like 🤔 and I was like OH FUCK I'M GOING TO HAVE TO GENUINELY CONSIDER THIS POSSIBILITY AREN'T I?

anyway after talking a mile a minute and overrunning by 15 minutes I then got a quarter of a mile away on foot and realised I'd left my glasses on her table. she opened the door I went HEY SPEAKING OF ADHD

[mooooonnnzz]

holy shit world/insure made me sob. would you consider doing a part two ? i’m imagining stan and ford telling dipper and mable childhood stories with the reader. they’re vague about it, saying stuff like “they aren’t here anymore” so the twins just think read died. then reading coming back through the portal and they connect the dots. omfg i’m obsessed with this concept.

Word/Insured Part 2

Stanford Pines x Sibling!Reader/Stanley Pines x Sibling!Reader

☆ GUESS WHO FINISSHHHEDDDD!!!

☆ this'll have 2 parts so it's easier to digest, since it's lawnngg so if it abruptly ends, that's just me splitting it

☆ 4,5k words

☆ gender-neutral reader

☆ possible tw: drinking to cope, mentions of suicide, gagging and descriptive chewing? and just angst

☆ srry this lowk kinda took long to write both keyboard and mouse just died on me when i was writing this so i had to find an old keyboard oops

☆ if this does well, i'm considering on making hcs of reader adjusting back to their home dimensions and diving deep into the twins n their trauma !!

☆ that's all. i hope you all enjoy! :3

✶ Stan and Ford hadn’t talked to each other since your disappearance. The anger and hatred that Stan held onto was enough to deter him from even granting a glance at Ford who tirelessly tried to get Stan to talk to him. He’d begin the conversation with ideas he’s thought through the night prior, ideas that most likely secured a chance on bringing you back. But Stan wanted nothing to do with him. His head was shrouded with your screams, the way you yelled out for Stan instilled such a soul-crushing guilt on Stan; he wasn’t sure he’d properly function as a normal human being after this. Not to mention, you and Stan were two peas in a pod, spending 10 years together after the collapse of their family truly brought the pair together, closer than they’d ever thought they would be. And now Stan is going through the same grief he felt when he was kicked out of the house, Ford doing nothing but sparing a sorrowful glance to him as he shouted for his brother, anticipating Ford to do something; to clean his name and everything would go back to normal. But instead, he turned his back on him. The situations were massively different but the pain was eerily still the same. 

✶ Stan would spend majority of his nights clutching your belongings close to his chest. He didn’t care if it looked weird, those were the only things that he had left of you at the moment. Nights were spent crying himself to sleep, envisioning different scenarios where he had caught onto your wrist and pulled you back to the ground, where it was safe, where he was there to protect you. He couldn’t let his mind linger on the idea of you being stranded in another dimension, helpless and lost, not knowing what to do or where to go. The mere thought of it sends his heart crumbling down to his palms, all shredded and shattered beyond repair. He was your big brother, he was supposed to protect you. To keep you safe from harm's way, he betrayed that very promise by leading you to the place where you were taken away from him too soon. And that alone gutted him. Ford would hear Stan sobbing into the night and all he did was lay there in his bed, submitting himself to the torture to hear his brother’s wretched cries. Because, this was his fault. Stan wasn’t shy to tell him that almost every waking moment of the day when he has the chance. The guilt haunts him.

✶ Verbal arguments were pretty common between the pair. Stan mainly started them when he was pulled out of the haze he was in and roughly back to reality. A reality where you weren’t around anymore and that irked him, because who else was at fault other than his idiotic brother? “Do you ever wonder how more lively this house would have been if ya hadn’t pushed [Name] inside the portal?” His tone was harsh. They carried thick venom to them, his words permanently burning their way into Ford’s brain. “Not this again,” Ford’s heart quivered. He had just recollected himself from yesterday's fight and now Stan wants to barrel through another one? Ford avoided Stan’s glaring eye contact. “Stanley, I told you many times before. I’m sorry! I’m sorry for screwing up, I’m sorry for being the reason why [Name] isn’t here anymore.” Ford’s head tilted back, his eyes staring longingly at the ceiling. “You don’t know how much this eats at me, Stanley.” He blinks away the tears threatening to escape, his head lowering back down to meet Stan’s fiery stare. “But I beg of you, please. Don’t hate me for it. I can’t lose you again, not after losing [Name].” The look in Ford’s eyes was something Stan would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he tried. He looked so broken, so shattered, the shell of someone who once was a prodigy at everything he touched was now crushed to bits; pieces of him scattered, lost to time. Stanley’s anger faded into a mellow irritation. Shifting his hands awkwardly on his chest, his face softened ever so slightly. “Fine,” He grumbled, rushing past Ford, their shoulders roughly rocking against each other. Ford sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. This was a new development. A spark of hope flickered in Ford. 

✶ Alcohol and cigars were Stan’s life vest. He’d rob a few packs of beer and down them within two days. It wasn’t healthy, but at least it distracted him from everything that was happening, right? Stan was pretty much drunk every day, and if he wasn’t, he was out on the porch smoking cigars, hoping that one day Ford would find him dead on the floor with beer cans surrounding him, his last moments spent thinking about how much he missed you. Stan wasn’t an angry drunk much to Ford’s surprise, considering how he spent his times where he was sober yelling at Ford, rather he’d rot away on the couch or floor, silently crying to himself in a puddle of his own tears. Many times Ford would have to pick up Stan, rest him on the couch and try to sober him up. And it wasn’t an easy task to do, picking up Stan with his weak arms was a workout for Ford. “Why couldn’t I save them?” Stank drunkenly babbled out, his head swaying side to side. “Don’t move too much, Stanley. You’ll give yourself a headache.” Ford warned, propping his head up with a pillow. “If I wasn’t so slow, [Name] would still be here.” Stan hiccups, his eyes glistening with tears. No matter how many times Ford hears Stan painfully talking about you, it still hurts the same and even more. “It’s not your fault, Stan.” Ford said, pulling a blanket up to his chest. “It’s not yours either.” Stan’s hand patted Ford on his face, thinking that it was his head. When Stan pulled his hands away, tears were streaking down Ford’s cheek. Hearing Stan tell him that it wasn’t his fault healed a piece of him and that quickly triggered the waterworks. “There, there, brother.” Stan patted Ford’s back as he sobbed into his hands. “It’s not my fault,” He repeated in loud sobs. “It’s not your fault.” Stan echoes. 

✶ Ford handled his grief and stress by huddling himself in the lab, isolating himself from Stan’s drunken state and researching his work. Trying to find loopholes that he can tie them close with a workaround, with a quick fix that would bring you back. Cans of beer were discarded around his lab, just the same as upstairs. But he wasn’t downing beers like Stan, he chugged one or two to dull out the ache in his heart, to keep it from distracting him. He knew when to stop and limit himself. He wasn’t dependent on alcohol. Sleep was something Ford considered useless. That would only distract him from his work, from his progress. Stan walked into the lab, puffing a gray smoke of air out onto the air. Your absence has bestowed so much despair onto the pair and he hadn’t realized until this very moment. Walking over to Ford, he placed a hand on his back. He was messily sleeping on top of his work, glasses hanging off his face, mouth open, drool dribbling down to his arms and paper. His dark circles were so dark and he was unshaven, chin stubbly with hair. Has he been getting any sleep? He wouldn’t know because he’s always drinking the day away. Stan internally groaned at himself. Not only has been neglecting himself, he’s been neglecting his brother. Burning out the cigar, he grabbed a blanket from upstairs and draped it over Ford. “Sleep tight, Stanford.” He said, gingerly squeezing his arm. Stan sat right next to him, wanting to keep him company and dozed off. When morning came, Ford awoke to Stan’s head colliding with his chair. For that one morning, Stan’s snores were music to his ears. 

✶ “S-Stanley!” Ford’s body lunges up from the couch when he sees Stan briskly pass by him and into the kitchen. “I-I’ve done some research and I-I think I found a way to get [Name] back!” He stumbles over his words, the lack of sleep weighing heavily on his foggy brain. The only thing that is keeping him up as of now is coffee he had been taking in shots for the past few days. The way he moves is fidgety and erratically and Stan takes notice of that. Pouring a cup of coffee for himself in a mug, he leans his back against the counter. “You need sleep, Stanford.” He brings the rim of the mug to his lips, his eyes never leaving Ford’s trembling figure as he takes a big gulp from his coffee. Ford couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Stan spoke to him! It was measly four words, but that’s more than he has ever said in the past five months, that wasn’t angry nonsensical words that were being thrown at him or depressing drunken babbling. “No, there’s so much to be done.” Ford runs a hand through his unkempt hair. “You need to hear me out. We need to find the other two–” Stan shushes him. “I won’t talk to you until ya sleep, Stanford. Don’t you bother trying to back out from this.” He looks at Ford with a stern expression, almost the same one Mom wore whenever he warned Ford to not do anything stupid in the backyard with Stan. “B-But!” Stan doesn’t hear his weak objections, he’s already out of the kitchen before Ford can conjure a good enough excuse. With a groan, Ford trips over his own feet while he makes his way back to the couch. Pushing all his research and books off the couch and onto the floor, he topples over the couch. When his head crashes on the soft plush of his sofa, his body automatically shuts off, revealing how dangerously tired he was. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take long for him to crash out on the couch. Stan came in to check on Ford and was pleasantly pleased to see his twin at last getting the rest he deserved. 

✶ Clinking his fork idly on the ceramic plate, Stan watched Ford make breakfast. Originally Stan was going to prepare breakfast, but Ford saw he was cooking and pushed him out of the kitchen, telling him that it was “his treat,” Stan couldn’t even utter a single word to him. He just wanted simple scrambled eggs and toast and now he’s left to fear for his life as Ford concocts a science experiment for his breakfast. “And for you breakfast, Stanley.” Ford swoops in, leaning forward as he shuffles the plate of food onto the table. “Scrambled eggs and buttered toast,” Ford smiles knowingly, placing his breakfast down. He had the same breakfast but the crust of his toast was cut off. “I don’t even know why I doubted you.” Stan scoops up the scrambled eggs with his fork and shoves it in his mouth with giddy excitement, a display of emotions Ford hadn’t seen in over 10 years. Who knew a simple breakfast would get him so happy? “Still being a baby about the crust?” He points to Ford’s crustless buttered toast with his fork, mouth muffled with food still being chewed in his mouth. Ford cringes at the sight of mashed up food in Stan’s mouth, suppressing a gag as he nods his head. “Chew your food before talking, Stanley! We’re not kids anymore.” He rasps out, his palm covering his mouth, his body shuddering with full body heaves. “Alright, alright!” With a loud gulp, he swallows his scrambled eggs. “Happy now?” Said Stan with a roll of his eyes. “Maybe not,” Using his other hand, Ford pushes the plate of eggs away. “Don’t want to eat anymore,” Stan shrugs, pouring the scrambled eggs on the plate. “More for me!” As Stan is chowing down on his eggs, Ford regains his composure. Though, he couldn’t watch Stan eat his eggs without the image of the yellow goopy food in his mouth so he averted his gaze to his hands. 

✶ “[Name] sure had grown up the last time I saw them.” This was Ford’s feeble attempt at sprouting a conversation with Stan, but he soon regretted what he said when he realized the fragility of the topic. Stan blinks, stunned. A beat passes and Ford’s ready to divert the conversation to another topic when Stan replies with a weird look on his face Ford can’t quite catch. “Well, yeah,” Stan looks off to the side. Ford lets out a breath of relief, Stan wasn’t upset at the mention of you. “They left with me when you and Dad kicked me out and we haven’t seen each other since then.” There’s a distant look in his eyes when he speaks, his words carrying a light anger to them ever so slightly. “How were th–” Stan shoots up, the chair skidding behind him. “Just because we’re all chummy now doesn’t mean you get to ask all about [Name].” The sudden shift in his emotions slapped Ford right in his face. “I’m sorry.” Ford whispers. Stan clicks his tongue, uttering to himself before shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry.” Stan rubs the sides of his head with his fingers. “Let’s not talk about them right now, okay? I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Stan pulls the chair to him and sits down. He rests his head on his fist, eyebrows pinched together with a long frown on his face. “I didn’t mean to blow up on ya like that.” Stan looks Ford in the eyes, and he could see the sincere sadness swimming in his eyes. “It’s okay, Stanley. Why don’t we talk about what you do for a living?” With that, they eased themselves into a comfortable conversation, with a few hiccups here and there, but in the end, the twins both had a soft smile adoring their faces.

✶ The repairing of the portal was a stepping stone that repaired Ford’s and Stan’s relationship. They weren’t going to lie and say that their relationship now was perfect, they still had their moments of anger and differences, but with a lot and a lot of patience, their bond was soon regaining its spark. “Whaddya think, poindexter?” Stan slapped a sloppily written plan on how to fix the portal in front of Ford. “What is this?” Ford looked at the piece of paper like it was garbage. “A plan to fix the portal, isn’t it obvious?” Stan snatched his paper back up, eyes speedily reading his work, doubting his work. “Stanley, that is unnecessary. I have the blueprints to fix the portal.” Discarding his plan, he slapped his hands enthusiastically, rubbing them together. “Alright! So where are they?” Ford sucks in a breath. “In the other journals.” Stan nodded his head slowly, as if that information was already obvious. “And where are the other journals?” Ford coughs into his fist, speedily saying; “I hid them.” Stan looks at him weirdly. “Can’t we just unhide them?” Ford rubs a hand up against his prickly cheek. “That’s the thing. I may or may not remember where I hid them.” Closing his eyes, he braced for the gust of angry yelling. “you WHAT?!” Stan’s hands flew to the side of his head. “How do you forget where you put them?!” Stan made a mental note to mark down how many times Ford screwed up, so far he has two. He has a long way to go before he could be anywhere near Stan’s record. “I was in a flurry of panic! I wasn’t thinking straight.” Stan groaned, smacking his face with his hand. “Was it at least in Gravity Falls?” Stan had his fingers crossed. “Yes, obviously.” A triumph “Yes!” leaves Stan. “Okay, let’s get digging then!” 

✶ Stan severely underestimated how truly difficult it would be finding one of the books in a forest that seemed like it stretched out for miles. Every turn looks the same and whenever he’d think he’s making progress, he’s right back where he started, at least he thinks he is. Frustrated, he bangs his head on a tree. The sound of metal clanging rang in his ears and shook through the tree. He groaned, holding his head with one hand as he curiously examined the possible metal tree. “Stanley!” Ford came running to Stan’s side, panting heavily. He wasn’t used to running for more than 5 seconds, and that was evidently proven with his flushed face and out of breath wheezes. “This tree is metal,” Stan notes, taking a few steps back, winding his leg back and hammering his shoe into the tree. The tree simply shook, the metal sound nowhere to be heard. “What?” Stan can feel his brain heating up, he couldn’t make any sense of this. The tree he kicked felt like a tree, not some metal contraption. It was only when he knocked his head—An idea springs to mind. Leaning his head back, he slammed his head on the tree. Shocked noises sputter out of Ford as he watches Stan rub the sore spot in his head. “There’s something here,” He gestures to the general area where he smashed his head in. “I can see that!” Ford walks up to the tree, knuckles gently knocking on the metal plate that was disguised as a tree. His hands move around the tree, searching for a way to open the plate. His fingers snag on an elevated piece of tree and with his fingertips, he swings it open, revealing a control panel. The memories of constructing this rush to his mind. “I remember now!” He flips a switch, his head turning over to where the large log rested. In front of it, a patch of grass was pulled back to unravel the hidden place where book three was. Ford eagerly snatched the book in his hands, showcasing it to Stan. “Great job, Stanford!” He claps Ford’s back. “So where’s the other one, you remember?” Unfortunately for the both of them, Ford doesn’t remember. He had seemed to bury most of his memories after meeting Bill Cipher, anything beyond that point was an empty mess for him.

✶ With the two books in hand, they managed to tinker and repair the damage to their best efforts. After each exhausting night in the lab, he’d attempt to pull the lever in hopes that whatever they did that day would work and to their utter disappointment, it never dislodge from its spot. “Man,” Stan wipes his forehead with his forearm, sweat glistening on his arm. “For a brainiac like you, I would’ve never imagined you being terrible at building this!” Stan barked with a laugh. Ford scoffed, his attention laser focused on fixing a part of the machine. “How did you manage to build the portal in the first place?” Stan wondered, the flashlight he was using to help Ford see what he was doing began to steer away. “Stanley,” Ford snapped. “The light!” Stan jolted up in surprise, the light quickly going back to Ford. “Sorry,” He sheepishly said. “But seriously, how did you build this?” He looked at Ford curiously. “I had an assistant.” Ford mumbled, a leak of oil dotting his clothes. He hissed, grabbing a tool off the ground to fix whatever started leaking. “Had? What happened?” Ford hummed happily. He had fixed the leak. Placing the tool back down to the floor, he directed his attention to Stan. “He quit.” Ford scratched his head, unintentionally smearing oil on his cheek with his hand. “Why?” Stan tossed him a piece of clean cloth, silently motioning to his cheek. Ford took it, wiping his cheek with the cloth. “He, uh,” If Ford told Stan that he went inside the portal momentarily and came out completely traumatized, Stan would go berserk on him knowing that you went inside the exact portal that mentally ruined Fiddleford. Ford did not want to go back to the arguing and suffocating silence so he lied. “He just thought what I was doing was unethical.” That wasn’t a complete and total lie, but it was far from the truth. Stan bought the lie fortunately for Ford. “Glad at least someone had the brain to call a quits!” 

✶ Before they knew it, they were tremendously low on money. Stan was the unfortunate one to discover this revelation. On a quick supply run, Stan had gone to the grocery store and stock up on some food. When the cashier rang up him, totaling his price to 30 dollars, Stan had pulled out a penny, paper clip and a wrapper. Mentally cursing Ford for spending all his money on unnecessary science stuff, he weakly smiled at the cashier. “Can you hold onto my groceries for a quick second?” The cashier nodded their, a big bright smile on their face. “Of course, stranger!” And right when Stan was going to snag the groceries bags in his hurried rush, a woman spoke from behind him. “Hey, that’s no stranger! That must be the mysterious science guy in the woods!” She points, gathering a crowd around Stan. “Ah, no. That’s my nerdy twin brother.” Stan says, causing the crowd to coo in interest. “There’s two of them?” Someone in the crowd asked. “He probably cloned himself just so he could do two things at once!” Someone else said. “That’s probably what happened. I’ve heard strange stories about that old shack.” Toby Determined spoke up. “Yeah! Mysterious lights and spooky experiments!” Daryl added. “Gosh, I’d pay anything to see what kind of shenanigans you get up in there!” Pa said. Susan perked up at that. “Oh, me too! Do you ever give tours?” 

✶ A sly smirked pulled to Stan’s face. He had the perfect idea. “Yes, I do give tours! Ten…no-no fifteen bucks a person!” The crowd erupts in cheers, waving their green bills around. “Is it possible we get to see the man of mystery himself?” Susan questions. “Hmm, I’m not sure.” Stan eluded them to think that there was no possible way to get to Ford to gauge their reactions. And what they gave him sent adrenaline rushing through his veins. “You know what?” The crowd lightens up with hope. “Fifty bucks if you all want to see the man of mystery himself!” Another boisterous cheer from the crowd. “And what did you say your name was, twin of mister mystery?” Stan smiled proudly. “Stanley, Stanley Pines.”

✶ The crowd bustles into the shack, ooo’s and aaa’a left their mouths in awe of the place. “Step right up folks to a world of,” he pauses for a moment thinking. “A world of enchantment!” He gestures to all the wild findings. Grabbing a dial box with two antennae, he showcases it to the crowd. “Behold! The um, nerdy science box.” Susan looked at it with interest. The device rumbled to life and zapped her in the eye, rendering it closed. “Ah, my eye!” She covers her closed eye, stumbling back. “Uh, I can assure you, that is no way permanent!” He offers an uneasy smile. “I paid sixty five dollars for this!?” With Susan’s comment, the whole crowd erupted in complaints. Quickly thinking, he grabs a skeleton and makes a half-assed joke where the last customers didn’t make it out alive. The crowd laughs at his horrible joke and Stan smiles. “What is with all this ruckus?” Ford walks in, irritation evident on his face. “Is that him?” Someone excitedly shrieks from the crowd. “Oh my god, it is! Take my money!” Wads of dollar bills get thrown at Stan who was making a great effort to make sure he caught all of them. “Stanley, what did you do!”

✶ After answering a few questions he was coaxed into, (they stroked his ego), he kicked them out, accidentally saying that they could return another time before closing the door, smacking himself in the head. “What was that?” Stan turned over to Ford,  buckets of money shoved inside into his shirt. “I got us money! And look how much we got!” He pulls a ten dollar bill from his stack in his shirt. “Stanford, this the best thing that’s ever happened to us so far.” Ford looks at him, unsure. “I’m not a fan of ripping people off,” Stan’s hands fall to his sides. “It’s their choice to throw money at me like a madman. Listen, if we get more money, we can stock up on good materials to fix the portal, like really good parts and we can finally bring [Name] back.” Ford stewed in his thoughts for a little more. He hated to admit, but Stan was right. With a little more money, they could be sailing straight to victory with a higher chance of your return. Ford let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, but I don’t want you to mess with my stuff, got it?” Stan beamed brightly. “I promise!” He broke that later on. 

✶ Gradually, the scary shed in the woods turned into a tourist spot people would frequent. Together, they advertised the shack by plastering various signs and posters all over the woods. They even went as far to tape advertisements onto people’s windows. Ford wanted to use actual beasts he had found in the woods to show to people, but in the end they all ran away, horrified for their lives. Ford was respectfully peeved because when he’d glance over to Stan, he had somehow had the crowd hanging on to every word that spilled out of his mouth. And when he’d show the crudely sewed animal he had made within five minutes before the tour started, they all gasped in delight, their money flying to him. “How do you do it?” Ford asks as Stan closes the door, reveling in the pool of money he had made. “I just say whatever comes to mind.” Stan shrugs. “But none of your stories make any sense logically! How did they believe in a half beaver half bat?” He gestures to the taxidermy animal. The beady eyes were slowly sliding off its face, leaving a trail of glue. “Hey, the people love to spend their money on things that are obviously fake, weirdly enough.” The door rattles with a knock. “Wanna take this next crowd? I gotta sort this money.” Against his will, not really, Ford opens the door and flashes an award winning smile he had learned from Stan. Cash was already being shoved in his face. At least he earns money for looking good. Ford attempted Stan’s whole shtick and to his very surprise it worked! It wasn’t as good as Stan’s performance, but it worked well enough that people were swarming him with cash. His bitterness from before was quickly washed over and he continued on his act. When the crowd dispersed, satisfied with their tour. Stan was there in the middle, clapping widely. “That was some good acting there, Ford!” Ford smiled, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’m only doing this cause we need the money.” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz if you wanna be added to my taglist, dm me or comment! <3

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[idiotmf]

omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it

Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!（＾ω＾）

Edit: Here is the amab version!

Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^

NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.

TW: dub-con

Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:

When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.

Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.

Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.

Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.

One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.

The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.

This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.

You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?

His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.

Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.

Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.

It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.

“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.

“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.

“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.

Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.

Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.

“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.

In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.

Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.

“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.

Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.

Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: this fic will contain DARK CONTENT. MINORS DNI. AGELESS BLOGS DNI. reader and touya are childhood friends, kidnapping, reader does not consent to what touya’s doing, possessive/obsessive behavior, one-sided pain kink, no sex, no aftercare, hurt/no comfort,  this takes place after dabi broadcasts that he’s a todoroki, touya burns reader in multiple places, touya burns your clothes off, this is seriously fucked up content, this is not intended to be sexy or hot or anything like that, it’s literally just fully DARK CONTENT GENRE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT SUMMARY: touya intends to make you his—permanently. WORD COUNT: 1.4K 🦊’s A/N: whoa….. god help us all. this is my first seriously dark fic here and there will be plenty more to cum 💦

     “now—don’t be like that, doll,” dabi scolds you as he finishes tying off the rope at your ankles. currently, you were laying face down against the mattress, limbs pulled apart spread eagle style, blindfolded and terrified.

     when you were on your way home earlier tonight, you weren’t exactly expecting to be kidnapped in broad daylight. maybe it was your fault for taking that shortcut through that shadyass alley…. goddammit. now, you had no one to blame but your own dumb ass.

     what you weren’t aware of, however, was the fact that touya had been stalking you for weeks now—waiting for the perfect time to snatch you up. you see, he’d always had a bit of a crush on you since you were always there for him when you were children, someone whom he actively sought solace in. so, now that you were both adults and his feelings had time to simmer and intensify, he found himself thinking about you obsessively—he thought of you as something he just had to have; something akin to a doll he had to mark as his. and that’s exactly what he’d do.

     “please…. let me go!” you cry, tears dampening the cloth obstructing your vision. “i— i have — have to get home! i have people waiting for me!” you lie, wiggling around on the bed.

     he had taken you to some abandoned home—the family already dead and gone weeks ago, as touya had been planning this exact scenario for months now. and he finally has you exactly where he’s dreamt you’d be: struggling beneath him as he marks you as his permanently. 

     “that’s a lie and we both know that, sweets,” he spits out. “‘ve been watchin’ you for a while now, y’know…” suddenly his lips are right next to your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell of it as a chill runs down your spine. 

     “but, i’ll tell ya what: if y’can guess who i am, i’ll let you go free. sound good?” he proposes, meaning his words—he knows you’ll come crawling back to him once he’s through with you. you wouldn’t have any other choice, really!

     that being said, he activates his quirk on his hand and sets flame to the button down shirt you wore, and as a result, your bra as well, making you cry out painfully as the overwhelming heat consumes your upper body for a few long moments. …and then just like that, it’s gone and you’re left in just the stupid skirt you’d decided to wear today and your panties.

     now, with his quirk active on just his index finger, he brings it down to your naked lower back where he begins to spell out his name—his real name. 

     he did it tortuously slowly, though. taking his sweet time to make sure you could feel the stroke of each letter so that there would be no mistaking who he was.

     T…

     it’s all you can do to scream and bite down on the pillow by your head. the heat was beyond blistering, and you think you might pass out as he agonizingly traces the letters of his name.

     O…

     “jesus christ, owow–OW—OW–! fuck!” you scream-sob, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks from the searing pain as he mockingly praises you for being so brave. 

     U…

     suddenly, the realization of who he might be clicks amidst the pain, and it’s all you can do to cry; “t–touya!? b–but why?” 

     he doesn’t stop writing as he grins so widely, he pops a couple staples—the ones closest to his mouth—and continues spelling out his name before deciding to answer you.

     Y… A…

     perfect….. his handwriting wasn’t exactly the best, but it was undoubtedly his. just like you were.

     the last you’d seen him was on the news when he dropped the metaphorical bomb that was him being the eldest todoroki sibling. and before that? the night he supposedly “died.” so, not only was finding out he’s been alive this whole time a slap in the face, but now he has the audacity to kidnap and brand you? like you’re a piece of property!?

     “why?” he rasps out. “it’s pretty simple, really. …because you’re the only one who understands me—”

      “n–no! t– touya, this isn’t—” isn’t what? this isn’t him? this isn’t right? the touya you were once familiar with perished long ago and so had his morals.

     his hand comes down to strike against your ass with an awful, burning force, and you swear there’s an immediate handprint that forms. 

     your back arches instinctively, forcing your stomach firmly against the mattress, in attempt to escape his blazing touch, but touya doesn’t give you time to recover before he’s bringing the same hand down again, with just as much force and firepower as before, and you yelp loudly as you squirm against your restraints.

     “pl– please–! why me?”

     “i just told you—don’t tell me your memory’s that bad?” he quirks a brow up at 

      it’s true that you’d had a crush on the man now known as dabi back in your youth, but that crush died when touya did, forcing you to mourn both him and the feelings you harbored towards him. and now he comes back from the dead like nothing? did he even try to seek you out in all this time? 

     he had, actually, at multiple points; little “check ins”of sorts, if you will. observing from a distance, too scared to reach out.

     “n–no! ‘s’not! i just—! ow! fuck! touya, please!” 

     “you what?” he snaps, spanking your other asscheek this time.

     “fuck! ow–! touya, please! please!”

     his hand comes down again, harder and hotter than before and you bite your tongue so hard it starts to bleed, filling your mouth with an almost sickening coppery taste. rather than swallow it, you spit it out onto the bed, as far away from your face as you can manage, and touya laughs at the pathetic sight. 

     “you poor thing,” he coos mockingly. “maybe i should’ve given you something to bite down on—...oh well, it’s too late now,” he laughs cruelly as another idea comes to mind. next, he thinks he’ll carve the characters of his name into your back, rather than just the romaji writing, and right between your shoulder blades at that. 

     “t–tou—touya, i—” you swallow thickly, unable to think of anything but the pain, or if you’d ever get to go home again after this. part of you almost wishes he would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to live with this mark of him for the remainder of your life.  

     “you—” he cuts you off, “are not going to like what happens next.” there’s an inflection of sorts in his voice—he sounds… like he found humor in his own words, like whatever was about to happen next would be funny. 

     he sets flame to his pointer finger again and brings the searing digit down against your flesh, and the smell that arises as he carefully takes his time with each stroke of the characters needed to spell his name���even going as far as to use his former surname todoroki in the spelling, just to make it that much more agonizing for you.

     轟。。。

     you wail and bite onto the pillow, staining it with your blood, as touya burns your flesh for his own entertainment.

     燈。。。

     矢。。。

     there. now he could be done with you until you inevitably decided to seek him out—too embarrassed and full of shame to continue living amongst normal citizens; after all, being branded by a well-known villain and then being set free into society like it never even happened is sure to take a toll on one’s mind. 

     what are you gonna do? call the police? tell a pro? show them your new scars as evidence? the idea is laughable. 

     “there—we’re all done,” he says, leaning over your trembling form to burn the ropes binding your trembling form to the bed, quickly followed by the ones tied around your ankles. “i’m a man of my word, so you’re free to go,” he says with a deviant, slightly crooked smirk. 

     rather than immediately booking it, you curl up tightly into a ball as your body’s wracked with heavy, heaving sobs, processing the physical and mental pain as touya just chuckles at your pathetic self, getting up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets.

     “well, see ya around,” he says, walking off as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving you to cope with your situation and what happens next.

return to KINKTOBER | LEAGUE OF VILLAINS M.LIST

[pyrodolls]

this isn’t paw-some… (bi-han, tomas x gn reader)

warnings: slight angst to comfort in both, established relationship in bi-han's, slight spoilers for mk1 story mode, gender neutral reader

summary: bi-han and tomas vrbada somehow turned into animals! but you have no idea it's them, so you end up telling them a secret... (both separate)

a/n: heyyy so um i had no idea what to write yesterday bc i hated every draft i had but i FINALLY got this one done. idk why but i'm in a phase where i hate everything i write. thanks for your patience guys!

bi-han

bi-han woke up to his bedsheets completely engulfing him. in confusion, he tried pulling them aside, but it barely moved an inch.

“what is this…?” he tried mumbling, but instead it came out sounding like the meows of a cat.

in a panic, he immediately rolled out of his bedsheets and tried to stand up, but his legs weren't strong enough to hold him up.

in fact, he didn't even have his legs anymore. he had little legs and paws.

this had to be a nightmare. there's no way he just woke up as a cat. fortunately, he happened to have a day off. but he still had many questions. why did he wake up as a cat? is this a permanent change?

but he knew there was no need to stress. bi-han needed to chill out. panicking doesn't solve anything. he must find you, surely you can recognize him immediately.

first, he must learn to walk as a cat. walking on all fours felt so strange to him, especially because his new paws were so sensitive to the hard, wooden floors. but he can get used to it for now.

you heard a quiet scratching noise at your door. thinking someone probably just accidentally brushed up against your door, you ignored it. until you heard it again. and again. louder each time.

you groaned, getting up and opening the door to a cute black cat.

"oh hello there! what are you doing in a place like this?" you giggled, immediately picking it up and petting it gently.

the cat purred in contentment, and rubbed its head against your hand.

while bi-han enjoyed the close proximity to you, he still needed to find out how to let you know *he* is the cat you are holding.

"i wonder if bi-han would approve of you wandering around." you sighed.

bi-han meowed as loud as he could, tapped on your chest with his little paw, then pointed towards himself. he hoped you understood what he was trying to say.

"it looks like you're trying to stretch. maybe we can go for a walk?" you offered, setting him down.

'this is gonna take a while.' bi-han thought. for now, all he could do was grumpily walk beside you.

-

"...and then, bi-han told me he was too busy for a night out. i understand that he's the grandmaster and stuff, but i just wish i could spend more time with him. you know?" you ranted to the cat walking beside you, *still* unaware it was bi-han himself.

he listened intently to what you had to say. it was true, he was very busy most of the time and couldn't spend much time with you. but he had no idea it was affecting you this much. once he turns human again, he'll make sure to fix the problem.

after an hour or so of walking around, you finally got tired and walked back to your home. once you reached your bedroom, you picked up the cat you spent your day with and placed it on your bed.

"i hope you don't have any diseases, that wouldn't be very good for me." you laughed nervously, as you climbed into bed next to the cat.

bi-han looked at you in annoyance and scrunched his little nose as if you just called him something offensive.

"anyways, goodnight little one. i hope we can find your owner tomorrow. if not, i can take care of you! as long as bi-han allows it..." you trailed off. "in fact, i'm really scared of displeasing him.."

bi-han's ears perked up at what you said. why would you be so scared of pleasing him? is he so intimidating that he even makes his significant other frightened?

"i mean, it's not like he's aggressive or anything, i just don't want to disappoint him. i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around him. if i say the wrong thing, he would think i'm unworthy of being with him. sometimes... i'm not sure if he really loves me. if he really loved me, he would put more effort into spending time with me... right?" you whispered, as a small tear escaped from your eye.

bi-han's heart broke a bit when he heard that. he knows that he is a bit.. judgemental. but he never meant to make you feel unloved.

he crawled up to you and licked your tear away. he hoped that it would make you feel a bit better about your situation. he made a mental note to talk to you as soon as he was human again. the last thing bi-han wanted to do was hurt you. even after all the people he has betrayed, hurt, and even killed... you were the only person he never wished to harm.

he cuddled up beside you and made himself comfortable. surely a bit of physical touch would make you feel better? it's not like he has been doing that in his human form anyway.. which he notes to fix soon.

soon you both drifted off to sleep peacefully, with bi-han curled up comfortably in your arms.

the next morning, you woke up to bi-han sleeping right next to you. when did he get there?

“bi-han?” you whispered.

when he woke up, he immediately checked his arms and legs. thankfully, he was human again.

“good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” bi-han asked, strangely casual even though he magically appeared in your bed.

“i slept.. fine. but i had a cat with me. it was a cute little black cat, it showed up at my door out of nowhere yesterday. it was kind of grumpy, but it listened to me when i ranted to it. it kind of reminded me of you.” you giggled.

“about that…” bi-han sighed. “…i have some explaining to do.”

tomas vrbada

tomas had invited you to madam bo’s for dinner, and he was planning on confessing his feelings to you there. but unfortunately, he couldn't exactly make it.

he accidentally fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized he was late. he immediately got up from his bed and tried standing up, but he couldn't stand on his two legs anymore. because his legs were now full of fur, and he had paws.

this could not be happening. the first time he gained the courage to make a move and ask you out, he ends up turning into a dog.

he had to find a way to get to you and do something. what if you think he stood you up on purpose?

-

you were sitting at a table at madam bo's, waiting for tomas to arrive. you get that he's probably busy, so you were being very patient and decided to wait a bit. but you were sitting there for so long, the place was going to close soon.

you were about to get up and leave, until a golden retriever dog ran up to you with its tail wagging intensely.

it didn't have a collar, so it seemed to be a random stray dog that took a liking to you. but it also seemed so well-behaved, how could it be a stray?

tomas was relieved to see that you were still at the restaurant. he felt bad that he made you wait for nothing, but at least that was a sign that you cared about him.

"oh, hello there. what could you be doing in a place like this?" you greeted, petting the dog in front of you.

tomas felt a bit strange getting petted by you, but it somehow felt really good.

"i was waiting for someone, but he never came..." you sighed. "this place is about to close. maybe you can accompany me while i walk home?"

tomas didn't hesitate to walk beside you, but he couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for wasting your time. he'll find a way to make up for it.

-

"i know he's a busy guy, but wouldn't he know if he couldn't make it today? i kind of got myself all dressed up for nothing.." you admitted, opening up to the loyal dog that never strayed from your side throughout your walk.

tomas's heart broke when he heard how you felt. if only he was human at that moment, he would've been apologizing profusely and trying to make you feel better.

"i really, really like him. i think he's so kind, fun, and he has always cared about me. i was so excited to go on this date with him, because i thought that maybe it was a sign that he liked me back. i'm trying to stay positive and hope that he was probably just busy, but what if he just doesn't actually care about me?" you sighed.

tomas whimpered in response, feeling extremely guilty about hurting you. he never meant to make you feel that way.

"i don't know if you are sad for me or if you're just hungry.. but you're a good listener. you remind me a lot of tomas..." you mumbled, feeling appreciated by your little companion.

-

once you arrived to your house, tomas felt very creepy. he was walking around your bedroom, looking at the little trinkets you have and sniffing around. he couldn't help it, it's like he had an instinct to snoop around your living space now that he was a dog.

"i'm really tired... stay here, and i'll find you some kind of blanket to sleep on. i have to put on my pyjamas first, though." you said, silently regretting that you wasted such a good outfit to be stood up.

when you returned to tomas, he was still sitting in your bedroom and patiently waiting. you laid out a blanket for him, and then you crawled into your own bed.

"goodnight. hopefully i can find your owner tomorrow, if you have one. even though you probably can't understand me and i'm just talking to myself.." you mumbled, rolling over and going to sleep.

tomas tried to think of a way to make it up to you when he was human again. he felt so guilty for hurting you. he hoped you didn't lose feelings for him, it would make him feel even worse if you did.

-

the next morning, you woke up and you were expecting to see the same golden retriever from last night sleeping on the floor.

instead, you looked down and saw tomas himself peacefully asleep on your floor, wearing nothing but a blanket over his privates.

you immediately pinched yourself. this had to be a dream. you had so many questions. what happened with the dog? did tomas break in while you were sleeping?

"tomas?" you whispered.

he slowly opened his eyes, and he let out a sigh of relief as soon as he saw he had his regular body back.

but that sense of accomplishment faded as soon as he noticed that he was pretty much naked on your bedroom floor.

"good morning..." tomas greeted awkwardly.

"good morning." you replied, trying to look respectfully.

you both stood in awkward silence for a solid minute before you finally spoke up.

"so.. what brings you here... naked...?" you asked.

tomas blushed. "well..."

-

"so.. you were the dog from last night?" you questioned.

"yeah. i'm sorry for uh.. you know, turning into a dog and accidentally leaving you alone on that date." tomas apologized.

"did you hear everything i said last night?" you said quietly, embarrassed that you practically poured your heart out to him without knowing it.

"i did. i am still so sorry that i hurt you. i'll make it up to you, i promise. i'll take you out for dinner again, but i'll show up this time. and i'll pay the bill!" he offered.

hell yeah, free food. who could resist that? you instantly agreed to his offer and you had hope that the date would go well this time, and then maybe you two can become something more.

"great! i'll go get ready right now!"

"tomas, you have hours to get ready, there is no need to rush. and you're still naked, by the way." you sighed.

[inklore]

home is where you're mine

premise: in nevarro you and din can finally breathe and spend your days christening every surface of your home.

pairing: din djarin x (f)reader

word count: 911

warnings: eighteen+ content, established relationship, riding, unprotected p in v, tiny little taste of possessive!din, domestic life, public-ish encounter, 'etyc' means dirty, 'mesh’la' means beautiful.

note: did i have an absolute panic attack over actually writing in the mando world instead of doing an au? yeah yeah i did, but thanks to my bbys @psychedelic-ink and @pedrito-friskito i got over it and wrote this filth <3.

The skin on Din’s neck feels as hot as your body does. The sun, having gone down hours ago, did little to cool the warm air—the humidity that’s clinging to your body and making sweat gather at your brow and run down your spine as your breath heaves your chest with your ministrations. 

There’s an ache in the heel of your foot that you ignore. That does not deserve a second thought, maneuvering around, or changing of position when this one feels too good. 

When Din is letting you take control, letting your fingers move to the only skin visible and hold onto it like a lifeline. Like you’d float away from the building pleasure if you didn’t have something, some kind of contact that wasn’t his gloved hand bunching up your dress at the top of your ass so he can grip and pull you down onto his length. The only helping hand he’s giving.

Since the two of you had made—what you hoped was—a permanent home in Nevarro. Until another bounty called Din away, now giving you a place to safely wait for his return. A cabin big enough for the three of you. A space that wasn’t covered in scrap metal and piles of weapons or debris. 

You know, in truth, that you’d live under any conditions if it kept Din on your side. The child on your hip or by your feet. 

But this place felt special. Like the three of you could finally take a deep breath and let your guard down for half a second without feeling remorseful over it. 

The porch had quickly become Din’s favorite spot to relax. To put his feet up and watch the sky, the terrain—Grogu, as he basked in the daylight and played with his food. 

Which is where you found him tonight after the child had drifted to sleep and the two of you were alone. The planet seemingly quiet when it knew the two of you needed it. When you leaned against the doorway and Din held out his hand to you. Pulling you into his lap. A calming silence shared between the two of you as you took in the stars. 

A moment that seemed too good to pass up. To not continue to take advantage of the space you had been given to have Din inside of you. 

No need to sneak around or find a darkened corner. 

It’s as if the two of you needed to break in every surface within the new space. Home. 

Your cheek pressed into the wall, a counter, a table. Your fingers leaving indents in the fabrics of seats, beds, and blankets. It was only right that you carry on that same streak in Din’s favorite spot. 

“Should we-” he began, the shake of your head cutting him off as your hips rocked against him. As he grew the more your sweet whimpers fell, and your fingers danced along the beskar of his chest plate. “Etyc,” his gloved hand coming down to tap at your ass, making you grin.

It didn’t take long for you to free his cock and position him at your entrance. To get yourself this close from the motion of your hips, the angle making the fabrics of his pants rub against your clit with each gyrate. Each time he bucked up into you just a little harder than the last. 

You let out a gasp when the warmth of his glove covers one of your breasts. His fingers pull down the—now—flimsy fabric from your shoulder to reveal it to him. To rub his thumb over your nipple in circles that make your moans grow in octaves. 

“Mesh’la,” Din groans. 

If this were in the darkness of your room, your roles would be reversed. Your vision cut off from him while he saw you in full. Running his mouth along your body. His teeth nipping at your breast until your body was pushing against him for more, to be filled by him. 

And if you asked him to take you to your bed right now, he would. Happily. He’d draw out your orgasm by making you fuck his tongue, pulling away when you were at that precipice only to shove his cock inside your trembling walls. Repeating the actions until you’re begging him to let you come. 

You have many nights for history to repeat itself, though. 

Right now, you’re so close, and the way Din’s hips are moving in tandem with your own lets you know he is too. That neither of you could move even if you truly wanted to because your pleasure is too much. Coming to that crescendo that makes you see a galaxy behind your eyelids when you can feel him twitch against your clenching walls from reaching your climax together. 

The gloved hand at your breast trails up the column of your neck, gripping your chin to bring your forehead to the warmth of his helmet before splaying the palm over your mouth. “The sounds you make when you come are just for me.” He grunts, your hips moving in unison one, two, three more times before you’re both coming. Your moans fall into his hand. Caught and absorbed by the fabric as your body clenches and trembles against him. The deep bravado of the groan he tries to bite back shakes your chest as you lay against him. “Mine,” mixed into the jumble of words he spews breathlessly. 

[xoxoxkisses]

Hello, I don't know if you accept request but I have some ideas and I thought you might like to write about it. I hope you could make Fluff and angst story about Sanemi and fem reader. The plot is something like, while they were having hashira training they promised they'll retire and get married soon but unfortunately it was the same night that they were called out because Muzan just found the Ubuyashiki mansion.. So infinity castle happen annddd Fem reader died after protecting Genya from the attacks of the upper moon. Sanemi just just arrived and he get to hear her last breath... "Sanemi, do not mourn.. Because someday, in another life, we might have a family of our own.. But now, we still have score to settle... Do what you must..for everyone.... For us."

After that, Senemi give his best and fight. Until it was over. Peaceful at last, but he hope or wish that reincarnation thing happen in the future.. Because he would like to meet fem reader once again.

And it happen in the modern times, she became a wife with their three children and Sanemi was a police officer.

Sorry if it's long, hope the plot is to your liking or stuff and thank you for your time to read this

We’ll meet again

Sanemi x fem!Reader

warnings: angst-> fluff, cursing, injuries, death (reader, Sanemi) not proofread

————————————————————————

Sanemi waited outside your estate for your training to end. He planned to take you out to eat that night since it was your birthday. When he heard the door open, he leaned up from the wall and looked over at you. A smile crept onto his face when he saw you, you had let your hair down which was a rare sight. “Hey. Gosh you look beautiful.” You giggled as he held out his hand, waiting for you to take it. “Thank you.” “Of course. Are you ready to go?” You nodded enthusiastically.

The two of you were making your way to a nearby village to get food as your favorite restaurant was there. You both talked about retiring soon and starting a family as you were both getting to the age where you wanted to settle down permanently. As the two of you were about to reach it, Sanemi’s crow came flying in frantically. “Emergency, attack at Ubuyashiki Mansion!” You and Sanemi both looked up. “What the fuck?!” Sanemi yelled as he started off running, you behind him. The two of you were about an hour away, you wouldn’t make it in time. “Sanemi what do you think is going on?!” You cried out, looking for a sense of relief. “I don’t know, but it has to be bad.” The two of you continued to follow his crow till you came up onto the mansion. You looked over and saw the rest of the Hashira, even Tanjiro.

As Sanemi tried to run into the mansion, it blew up. He froze almost instantly. You held your hands over your mouth as tears started flowing down your face. “Oh my-!” You screamed. “What is going on Sanemi?!” He looked back at you with a shocked expression. “I-I don’t know.” It was rare that you saw Sanemi show any emotion except for anger, or even love, but this was different..he seemed distraught.

As the flames died down ever so slightly, you all ran up to see if anyone was alive. When you did, you saw a guy standing there in the middle with a woman standing before him, her arm in his stomach. He was being pierced with a bunch of giant thorns. You looked slightly behind him and saw Gyomei. You watched as he tried to behead the guy, but it didn’t work. Suddenly you heard him scream. “Everyone, it’s Muzan!” Another gasp left your mouth. “M-Muzan?!” You looked over at Sanemi and saw a face full of hatred. Suddenly, everyone charged at Muzan. You hesitated slightly, but joined. Multiple breathing forms were called out, but once you reached him, you fell. Everyone fell.

Sanemi had told you about a place that looked like this that him and Obanai fell into. You had unfortunately got separated from Sanemi as you fell. After falling for some time, you were put into a room. You looked around and saw Muichiro and Genya. “Where are we?” You heard genya speak up. “I-I don’t know-“ you cut yourself off as you looked up and saw Uppermoon 1. “Shit.” You quietly mumbled. You looked over at Muichiro who was staring at the Uppermoon. You could see he was trembling. You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you and saw you had a reassuring smile on your face. “It’ll be okay.” He seemed to calm down a little and nodded. ————————————————————————

The battle with uppermoon 1 was tiring. You and Muichiro were having difficulties fighting with him. You had been knocked back a bit and when you caught your breath and looked up, you saw he was going straight for genya. Being a Hashira meant you had to sacrifice yourself for others, even if it meant you’d be killed in the process. You ran and jumped infront of him, taking the blow that was meant for him. Your legs had been cut off in the process. “Y/n!” Genya kneeled down beside you. You pushed him away. “Genya, help Muichiro, not me.” He fumbled with his hands for a moment before he nodded and got up. You laid there, slowly going numb. That’s when you saw that familiar face: Sanemi. He saw you on the ground bleeding out and he ran over to you.

“Y/n! Oh my gosh, you’ll be okay right? No you will be okay.” He was crying as he lifted you up. “Sanemi, please don’t cry, I hate seeing you cry..” This however made him cry even more. You slowly felt yourself losing consciousness, body somehow becoming more numb. “Sanemi..maybe in another life we will have that family we wanted..but right now you need to leave me here and fight, help Muichiro, Gyomei, and Genya..do what you must. For everyone…for us.” Those were the last words he heard from you as you passed away in his arms. “Y/n? Y/n?!” He tried to shake you, but he was too late. He gently laid you back down and got up, rage filling his body. He joined the others fighting. ————————————————————————

Sanemi lost two people that night. You and his brother. And slowly, he was losing himself. He had heard of a thing called Reincarnation, and he prayed it was real, because it meant he had a chance on meeting you again. Slowly, Sanemi passed away from his injuries. Hoping to see you again. ————————————————————————

You had just finished making dinner when your husband walked in with his police uniform still on. “Hi sweetie, how was work?” He sighed as he took his hat off and put it on the hat stand. “Tiring, but it was good.” You smiled at him as you got the table set. “Well, dinner is ready, go ahead and sit down.” We walked over to you and tilted your head up and kissed you. “Thank you darling.” You smiled at him. You turned away and called for your three girls. “Girls, dinner is ready!” You both heard the slaps of feet on the ground as they ran to the dining room. “Daddy!” The youngest one has yelled. They all crowded him as he hugged them each.

The oldest looked over at the table and made a face. “Mom, you made broccoli casserole again?” You turned your head at her seeing the face she made. “Yes, I did.” You gave her a sweet smile and went back to what you were doing. Sanemi bent down towards them and whispered smth to them. “If you guys eat it, I’ll give you some candy.” Little did he know, you had heard him. “Sanemi, you know they don’t get sweets before bed.” He looked at the girls and saw the pouts on their faces and looked back at you and saw you weren’t paying attention. He turned back to the girl and winked at them. “Oh yeah, how could I forget? Sorry girls, no sweets tonight.” They all smiled at him as they took their seats.

That night was awful. The girls stayed up super late and you knew Sanemi gave them candy. He couldn’t help but laugh when you gave him a small slap on his arm once the girls finally passed out in the living room, 2 hours after their bedtime. ————————————————————————

Ty for the request! I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, but I hope you like it!

[pennyserenade]

picture this | chris o'doyle x reader

summary | there is an american woman, famous for her place in the background of protest photograph, and there is man from the ira. one week of every summer their infamous lives join and they forge a simple something a part from it all. rating | (explicit) tags/warnings | ira mention, vietnam war mention, smut, a little bit of an age gap (reader is around 30, chris is 40), friends with benefits, co-workers (?) with benefits, protected sex, fingering, pinv, consensual sex, tender word count | 3.8k a/n | this took way too long to write and i'm sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy it!

Near the middle where the bone protruded on her knee, there was a dainty, thin scar that grew fainter with time. Somewhere–in past publications and museums, in scrapbooks and freshly-printed history books–the scar is being newly formed: she is twenty-two, attending her senior year of college and nothing makes more sense to her than standing up for other people. There is a sign in her hand, uncomplicated in both its design–white board, black lettering–and its demand (PEACE IN VIETNAM). Her youthful face is twisted in pain, her fingers folding the edges of the sign in agony as one knee touches the cement. If the camera had shuttered one second later, you would watch as the other gave way too, and you would see her mouth open wide to let out a scream that would only be masked in the cacophony of other screams.

She is not front in center in the photograph, but near the middle, only captured because of the chance way the bodies moved in that single, precise moment. Behind her is a crowd of soldiers, no older than any of the other students, who will later claim they did not strike first. They will accuse a dusty blond boy who died a week later from injuries he sustained during this photograph. This happened at a college campus she thought she would love forever. Now the degree she got there collected dust in a drawer, and she spent much of her free time trying to do anything that mattered.

Tonight, Chris found she was uncharacteristically romantic, full of cheap, potent beer and the inane idea that because they met once a year and fucked without purpose, that what they did was markedly adult. It wasn’t that she really thought that, but was an easy notion to be taken with; friends she had known in college were getting married and settling down, or already had, and the most consistent relationship she’d had in five years was this annual, week-long endeavor. Of course she knew that what they did was more sophomoric than trying at a real relationship and failing, but she could delude herself into thinking it was more mature on the basis that she did not love him and he did not love her. She told herself because they liked each other intellectually, personally, apart from having sex, it was different:. They had shared interests. He really did think she was clever. When he laughed, the laugh came from some place within him, an innocuous place that did not have coal to burn from in Ireland, but stirred happily back to life with her. When he kissed her, he did it for pleasure. He let her dress and undress herself. He lit her cigarettes the way he did for other acquaintances. When they were at her apartment like this, locked together in the quiet hours of the night, she was unabashed, witty, the least vain and neurotic version of herself.

Chris’ leather jacket hung on the back of a chair in her kitchen, his shoes tucked vertically by the door. His arm sloped over the back of the sofa, hovering near her body but not quite reaching it. In his current state, he looked at perfect ease: dress shirt unbuttoned, the glimmer of his silver St. Christopher’s pendant shining beneath the harsh lighting, a content smile on his face. If one were to glimpse inside her home, one might think he was a permanent resident.

“For a man so supposedly out of touch with the world, that mustache of yours is pretty in vogue, don’t you think?” she teased warmly, nodding towards his mouth. Her beer bottle sweated against the coffee table, without a coaster to protect the wood beneath it.

Growing more comfortable, Chris’ hand moved down, his fingers grazing against her knee. A flush of heat rose to her cheeks almost immediately, and he knew that the touch excited her, simple as it was. She watched carefully as he leaned down, quiet, and pressed his lips to the scar there. It was intimate, too familiar. She was an adult, steady minded, logical, and yet the simple act drove her to wordlessness. This was what a week with Chris always looked like, why she so craved it and feared it: it dizzied her, grounded her in a place that had not ever existed since she was twenty-two. It came back with tenacity whenever he stepped into her life.

Chris had no shame, leveling a satisfied smirk in her direction. He took in the sight of her face, his hand traveling further up her leg, exploring the width of her smooth thigh beneath his hand. She became tense under his touch, taut with anticipation. He nudged her legs apart with a tap of his fingers. Slowly, as if she had never done it before - not for him, not for anyone - she spread them apart.

“That’s right, my girl,” he cooed. Beneath the fabric of his tight slacks, his cock began to stir in interest.

This was a ritual his body knew what was going to happen next–because it always happened next. His pale blue eyes went a shade darker, the pupils widening as he trailed over the insides of her thighs with his fingers. Up close like this, he could smell the perfume on her, a heady, intoxicating scent that he relished as she leaned back on the couch for him. He rose up to her neck, tonguing at the flesh nearest to her throat, humming contentedly as her thighs attempted to close around his explorative hand.

He nudged alongside her jawline with his nose, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck. Beneath her skirt, he began rubbing soothing circles on her thighs. He could feel the heat emitting from her cunt, was thoroughly taken with the idea that in this state, he could just as well do anything he wanted to her. For months now, he’d been thinking of this, of her — of her soft whimpers, of the scrunch of her face as she came, of the taste of her, acidic and lovely. He’d palmed himself in the dark of night too many times to count, re-imagining the moments she hung up her inhibitions for him. He wanted her more than he could bring himself to admit.

He reached up and felt for the outline of her underwear. There was nothing. “No knickers?” he murmured against the warmth of her skin.

She shook her head, almost coy.

Chris pressed his lips to hers then. At first a light peck, the feeling of her lips against his was better than he remembered - better than anything he could possibly imagine - and he could not help drawing himself more closely to her. His hand carded through her hair, and when she opened his mouth for him, he groaned softly, ghosting his mouth above her own. They sat like that for a moment, staring at one another, measuring the depths of each other’s want before his tongue touched hers, and she eagerly gripped on the side of his shirt, pulling his body over her own. His feather touches on her thighs crept higher and higher until his fingers ghosted over her cunt. She canted her hips up, pleading silently, as his tongue ran over the top of her mouth, possessive and needy.

“What’s a matter, darlin’? No one touched you while I was away?” he teased. The Irish lilt drove her wild as it spread itself across the sensitive flesh of her neck.

Her nails dug into his side and Chris relished in the sting of it – at this something painful, that could also be nice. There was always a terrible, incessant part of him that wanted to know that things could still be nice.

She attempted to mold her form to his again, mewling from his curious lack of inattention. Chris grinned – nearly beamed – as if in wanting him, she was granting him some longed desired freedom. He knew her cunt ached for him; he felt the heat of it as his hand cascaded further up. Instead of touching her, he brushed lightly over her, grazing everywhere except the spots that would do anything for her. A protest finally rose up in her throat, but as Chris pushed the fabric of her skirt around her waist, whistling at the sight of her before him, it only came out as a weak sound instead. She looked at him, glassy eyed. Even in the dim lighting, he could see her glisten.

The alcohol made her pliant, but not incapable; whereas sober she probably wouldn’t let his curious eyes linger as long as they were, she allowed it now, slightly thrilled. The feeling ran up her spine when he brought fingers to her, spreading her puffy lips apart. She stifled a moan, gripping the edge of her couch, arching into his touch. With Chris, nothing ever managed to feel lewd; it felt like the most correct thing in the world, like he was drawing up a map and saying ‘this is where you are, this is where you belong, this is what you’re meant to do.’ It made her dizzy, how much she wanted him to merely touch her – not to mention how badly she wanted his cock, his tongue, anything at all. She wanted to tell him. To say: you could do anything you want with me. I’ll lie on the carpet, naked, let you look forever if you just keep looking at me like that, making me feel like this. Keep making me want you, just this much.

She didn't feel bad about it all—it made her feel strangely, inexplicably whole. Better because she didn’t love him, because she only liked him, and he only liked her, and yet they still wanted to touch one another like this, look at each other like that. She’d waited her whole life to feel that way.

“You’re mine,” he told her. The voice sounded as it came from deep within him, a place he didn’t rightly know existed until it did and he couldn’t help but reveal it. “Aren’t you? My girl, waiting for my fingers–” he circled over her opening, watching blurry eyed the way it closed around nothing “--waiting for my cock, wearing no knickers, hoping that I’ll what?” When they made eye contact, she found she never wanted to tear her eyes away from him again. He looked like he could devour her whole. “That I’d notice, fuck you soon as I seen you?”

He clicked his tongue, entering a single one of his thick fingers into her cunt. He tightened his jaw, watching the way it disappeared into the warmth of her. She was wet as hell. When she pushed at his shoulder, squirming a little beneath him, his lips curled up at the end into a small, genuine grin. He liked the way her face contorted, how she pushed even though she wanted more.

“That f–feels good,” she moaned.

“So fucking wet–” He entered another finger into her.

His nose once more rubbed along the smooth outline of her face. How badly he wanted to know the entire shape of her–to reach inside, extract a piece to take home. His fingers rubbed against the spongy top of her walls, and he measured the beat of her heart, the wavering of her breath, the ghost of her against his skin as he adjusted above her. His other hand grazed beneath the fabric of her shirt, peeling it up.

As he hung his head, a shag of hair concealed his face. She pinned it back just as he licked just above her breast. Her body arched up towards his own and he groaned, pulling his now wet fingers out of her and gripping at her hip. He pinned her against him, knocked his nose against hers, before kissing her; he sucked at her bottom lip, ran his tongue over the back of her teeth.

Chris wanted her to make a mess of him, and to let him make a mess of her. He wanted her spread and wet, wanted to plunge his cock deeply inside of her, wanted to run his tongue over the creases between her legs, wanted to suck her clit, bite her nipples, to see her mouth around his cock, his fingers, wanted to watch her pupils dilate, her mouth form into a neat ‘o’, to hear the thud of her heart against his ear, a sound that would no doubt make his own heart beat quicker, and more happily than it had in months.

“Please,” she told him, and he couldn’t resist.

Her fingers found the buttons on his dress shirt and diligently began to undo them as he reached between their bodies to push down his slacks. As she moved the shirt down his arms, he caught her lips against own again.

“D’you have a condom?” he asked, urgent.

“Over there.“ She pointed to the drawer beside them. He kissed her again before leaning over and grabbing the pack out of the assortment of junk she had stored there.

His brows furrowed as he took one of the wrappers out of the pack. He tried not to think entirely much about the fact that there was empty space where others had been, and tore the end as she hooked her fingers beneath his underwear and drew them down around his hips.

Swallowing, he took himself in his hand. As he pinched the tip of the latex, she reached out, stilling his hands. Before he could ask her what she was doing, she was doing it. He watched with widened eyes as she put her mouth around the weeping tip of his cock, taking him slowly into the warmth of her mouth. His fingers gripped the back of the couch and he sucked in a shallow breath. “Jesus Mary—“ he uttered, face tinting red. Her eyes glanced up and he nearly shuddered; they were glassy, impish, delighted as she flattened her tongue on the underside of his cock, tracing the vein up.

He felt drunk when she hummed around him — everything going straight to his brain all of the sudden. What she could not put in her mouth, she stroked with her hand. Chris could not peel his eyes from her. She’d done this before, of course, but never with so much self-possession. Saliva glistened on his cock and cornered the edges of her lips as she pulled back. He wanted to reach out, to touch her. To tell her good girl and watch the way the praise settled over her skin. But it all happened too quickly; she was already moving off of his cock before the words could come up. “

Now,” she told him, still holding him in her hand.

Chris understood; he nodded and adroitly peeled the condom over himself.

She laid back, spreading her legs apart to make room for him. He looked down at her, reverent, but still with the mind to be clever. “Mind me if I’m wrong, but I thought you women liked a bit of foreplay?” he joked, running his finger alongside her thigh.

Her lips mirrored his own. “This entire day’s been foreplay.” Her own fingers sprawled against his stomach, wrapping around his sides. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Like you said, I’ve wanted you to take me as soon as you saw me.”

It didn’t take much more convincing for him. His head dipped, his mouth on hers as he guided her back on the couch. She wrapped a leg around him, their tongues rolling against one another’s as he positioned himself over her. Even through the cotton of his undershirt, he could feel her pebbled nipples against his chest. He sighed, kissing at her jaw, her neck, leaving wet kisses over her collarbone. Reaching between her legs, he ran two fingers through her folds, testing how slick she was for him. He sucked hard on the skin over her breast—hard enough to leave a bruise—and hummed agreeably as she coated his fingers.

“My naughty, naughty American,” he delighted. He spread her folds apart with his fingers, rubbing over her core teasingly. She looked him in the eye, mouth parting to let mouth a silent moan.

Chris repositioned, replacing his fingers with his cock, rubbing the head of it through her folds. He went slack jawed with her as he teased the tip inside of her, stretching her entrance with the fat head of it. Her nails, which had been ghosting over his skin, dug in slightly. After a few moments, he pulled back out, much to both of their dismay.

“Don’t know if you’re wet enough,” he whispered against her lips, grinding his hips in an upward motion. She whined, pouting.

“I am,” she insisted.

“Not for me,” he replied, his hand reaching back between their bodies. He pressed two fingers inside of her, grinning as her brows drew together. “You’re mine,” he told her again, dragging his fingers along her walls. “You can fill yourself with whatever or whoever you like while I’m gone, but I want it to be known that this—“ he rubbed the top of her cunt, reaching a deep part of her that made her squirm. “—is mine. All fucking mine.”

She was intoxicated, the heady fumes of desire spreading out around them. He thrust his fingers inside of her, widening them apart to stretch her for him. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she brought him down to kiss her. He did, parting from her only to cast his translucent eyes down to where he was touching her.

“Fuck, I’m wet enough, Chris,” she said murmured his lips, frustrated. He laughed.

“Not enough. Want you dripping,” he said back, a bit stern. She could see it, suddenly, the way she hadn’t ever been able to before: an etch of seriousness that told her he could be a somber man. She found it terribly attractive. She sucked at the end of his tongue.

“If you fuck me properly, I will be,” she retorted, drawing her fingers around his sides, up to his back. She traced alongside his spine.

He scoffed, though she could see in his eyes he liked the teasing.

“You’re not being very nice to me. Don’t know if I should.” They both watched as he dragged his wet fingers up to her puffy clit. He traced wide, light circles around it. She held her breath, drawing her legs up involuntarily for him.

“You’re clenching around nothing, baby. What a pity.”

“Chris—“ she breathed out. “Chris.”

“Yes, that’ll do,” he nodded in approval, righting himself over her again. He applied more pressure on her clit.

“My pretty-“ Chris took himself in his hand again, lining his cock over her entrance, “-pretty girl all worked up.” He shook his head as if chiding, before thrusting his hips forward slowly. His eyes followed his cock as it disappeared into her, her cunt stretching beautifully around him. She was a goddess, laid out before him, wanting and waiting. Despite his desire for all of her, he thrilled at the slow taking of her. He was savoring it, remembering the tightness of her cunt, allowing the curve of her nails to embed themselves into his mind as well as his skin.

When he found himself fully seated inside of her, he turned his head, kissing the side of her lips, his eyelids, her nose. She pulsated around him. “You feel so tight,” he told her, gradually pulling out, only enough to feel the squeeze of her around him without losing too much of the warmth. He nearly sighed in contentment as he moved back inside.

She was already flush and warm all over from the alcohol in her system, and the feel of him inside of her felt less like an intrusion, as much as it did a missing piece to a lifelong puzzle. His cock was better than his fingers, thicker, longer, going deep as he grinded his hips down into hers. Impatient, she told him, “Faster.”

He huffed out a laugh, but obeyed, drawing up more quickly this time, pressing into her with more intent. She bit back a moan as she felt the plunge of him inside of her. Her knees went higher, something he encouraged by hooking one of them around his arm and thrusting roughly inside of her.

“Fuck, like that,” she moaned, nodding as he went impossibly deep inside of her then. She felt herself grow wetter—could hear it too, the slap of their bodies growing nosier the more intense he grew with his thrusts. It was no longer an issue for him to slide in; her body beckoned him, made all the room so he could seat himself closer and closer to her core.

Chris began to whimper as his thrusts grew more erratic. The pendant on his necklace swung as he watched the way his cock entered her, hitting her in the face as he pushed inside. Her tongue latched onto it, drawing the cool metal into her mouth. When he looked back at her, his eyes were full of unadulterated want. He shuddered, his hands falling over the back of her shoulders, attempting to draw her closer than she already was. She felt the fabric of his undershirt against her sensitive nipples, felt the drag of his pubic bone against her clit as he worked himself inside of her; he was all around her, hot, tangible, lovely, human. Hers.

His fingers wrapped tightly around her shoulders, almost with a bruising intensity, as he began to twitch inside of her. She looked him in the eyes, nodding, urging. He came then, the warmth of his seed inside of her making her gasp, even through the latex of the condom. Her arms wrapped around him, and she panted, smiling.

Pressing a kiss to her breast, he steadied his breathing. She brushed her fingers through his unruly hair, enjoying the faint tickle of his mustache against her skin.

“I’m still gonna make you cum,” he promised, cupping his hand around one of her breasts. They adjusted, so that he tucked himself beside her on the couch, their legs intertwining. His touch was curious more than attentive, the tips of his fingers caressing her warm flesh.

“We’ve got all night.”

“I know,” he smiled, licking behind her ear. Her eyes shut closed, and she pressed away the thoughts that this was not friendly. The alcohol made her feel pleasant, warm, and she did not care.

“Gonna make you cum a lot, my American,” he murmured, biting her earlobe.

She kissed him softly and he returned the kiss in kind, resting a hand on her cheek. He wanted to tell her something terribly romantic, to confess that he liked her quite a lot, that he enjoyed being here more than she would know. But Ireland was such a quiet, fearful place and the IRA had made him wearier than ever; it was best to say nothing than to say too much. It was better to show. His hand drew up between her legs, his eyes glimmering as he pulled away from her.

I want to know all you, said the line he traced up her thigh.

Alright, she consented, parting her legs for him.

[fyodior]

home.

✧ pairing: sigma x afab reader

✧ cw: breeding kink-ish, brief pregnancy mention, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, kinda just wholesome sex hehe

✧ notes: actually part of breedtober 2023 i never finished....... whoopsie. and this is my first time writing sigma so be gentle pls ♡♡ (divider by @/benkeibear)

✧ wc: 1.5k

“I want a family.” The statement is firm and final. Very unlike Sigma.

You choke on your tea. “You what?”

Sigma takes in a shaky breath before repeating the words you weren’t expecting to hear so suddenly. “I… want a family.” 

The two of you had “discussed” such things before, but only in passing. Only small lilts of I wouldn’t mind having a kid when playing with your nieces and nephews, or admiring baby clothes in the shops together. Small things. Noncommittal. Flippant, almost. Not bold. You weren’t quite used to that from your lover, which is why it takes you by surprise. 

“I see,” you nod, pondering the thought. The two of you together, with a baby - no, two babies, three, four. A house full of toddlers with purple hair, likely non-troublesome if they were to take after their father. Thoughts of a sleep deprived Sigma cradling an infant as he feeds it a bottle fill your head, and you smile. You, belly round for the second or third time, taking your oldest to their first day of kindergarten. The thoughts come easy - maybe the two of you were meant to be parents, to raise a family together.  

“Like… right now?”

It’s Sigma’s turn to reckon with your words, crossing his legs where he sits on the couch and sipping his tea. Clearly the thought had been stirring in his mind for a while - the man was nothing if not one to ruminate and contemplate. The blurted statement felt premeditated - not impulsive or hasty. 

In truth, it didn’t surprise you. Sigma had never been the best at verbalizing his feelings, always struggled a bit with truly letting you in, but you know how badly he yearned for a home. A space and things that were truly his and nobody else’s. You knew that extended to you, as more than anything else in the world he found a home in you, and you figured it was only natural to want to expand that. To extend that home and share it with others. To extensions of the two of you, the pillars of his home.

“And what would you do if I said yes?” 

What would you do? Would you demand he slow down? Spend more time thinking on something so permanent and utterly life altering? Something that could never be undone? Or… would you take the mug out of his hands and climb into his lap and straddle him? The answer proves to be the latter.

Sigma just smirks and rests his hands on your hips as you stroke his cheek, taking in his beauty. The curve of his nose, the plush of his lips, the subtle gray of his eyes. Everything that makes your lover himself. And by being himself, he became yours. 

Both of you stay silent as you press a gentle, exploratory kiss to his lips. He happily reciprocates, deepening it and licking past your lips to demonstrate his lust. Clearly he had been holding something in. What you didn’t see or hear yet was the blooming lust that hastened his heart and quickened his breath.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning against him, you grind down just a bit on his lap as you move your lips from his mouth to his jaw. Sigma groans lowly in response, humping against your ass ever so lightly. His already desperate movements contrast with the feather light kisses you’re pressing to the sharp angle of his jaw and throat. The grip he has on your hips tightens.

“Baby, please,” he grumbles. He wants more, but he’s never been any good at asking for it. 

You just chuckle in response. “You want more?”

“How else is that family gonna get started?” He was funny like that sometimes.

One more kiss to his lips is placed. “Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah? Make it something special.”

Sigma didn’t need to hear anything else.  Hoisting you into his arms, you giggle flail in his hold as he carries you and ultimately lays you down upon your shared bed. The one you’ve made consummated your love and declared your home many, many a time. 

Despite growing harder and harder from your more than ideal response to what he desires so strongly, Sigma still dives in between your legs, sliding off your pants and nestling his tongue between your folds. It’s so sudden you gasp and grip the pillows, not expecting him to forego your usual period of making out and dry humping. But he’s so ready, and he needs you to be ready too. 

He licks a fat strip from your hole to your clit before sucking on the sensitive nub, letting drool dribble off his tongue and right onto it. After using them to gather some of your slick that had already begun to ooze from your cunt, two fingers find their way inside your hole and scissor open to stretch you out. The attention to your hole and clit at the same time has you reeling.

“Ngh- Sigma!” you cry out. He was always very talented with his tongue.

Your lover smirks. “Yeah, baby? That feel good?” His breath is hot against your sex, and all you could possibly want at this moment is his mouth back on you. He’ll oblige for a little bit. He’ll flick his tongue back and forth against your clit and run the flat of it along the length of your slit before letting it join his fingers, licking hot inside you as you squirm and cry out. But he won’t for long. Sigma of course wants to make you feel good, but to him, this lovemaking is very heavily concentrated on the making. 

Climbing his way up your body, he melds your mouths together to allow you to taste yourself. “Ready for more, pretty girl?” he smirks. 

You gulp before nodding. He makes quick work of shedding himself of his own clothes and pulling your top off – for some reason, it only feels right to do this while completely naked, completely vulnerable – and lining his aching cock up with your wet cunt. 

Sigma isn’t too hard to take – he has an average sized length and girth, but god does he know how to use it. Adjusting his hips to just the right angle he’s learned from countless sessions of lovemaking with you, he presses his cock inside, making you yelp as he immediately bottoms out, rubbing right up against your sweet spot in the process. The talent he has for making you fall apart so quickly is unmatched. To give himself the best access to fill you up with his cock, he pushes your knees to your shoulders and presses his hips right up against your ass. 

Even when he’s desperate and unimaginably horny, the man is always gentle with you. Everything he does, every move he makes and look he gives is always laced with love – he just can’t help it, not when it comes to you. The way you moan his name and cry for more as he rocks his hips into you is like a sonnet sung just for him, meant for no other ears aside from his own. And it’s intoxicating.

Lacing your fingers together, he ruts into you hard and deep, sinking all the way into you with every thrust. He thrusts with the fervor of a man who wants a baby so bad he’d give up any of his limbs if the gods themselves asked him to. With the strength, vigor, and pace of a man who loves you so much he wants nothing more than to build a home, build a family with you and bask in it for the rest of his life. 

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts and makes you whine and cry until his sensitive cock is spitting his seed right into your cervix, praying that it soaks right into your womb. 

“How long have you been so sure about wanting a family, honey?” you ask later as you lay upon his bare chest, tracing lines between the freckles that litter his skin. 

He thinks for a moment, twirling locks of your hair between his fingers. This was always his favorite moment. The few hours after sex where the only thing you want is your bodies pressed to each other that your skin sticks and you’re not sure where one ends and the other begins. “My whole life, I think,” he finally replies. 

“Oh?”

“I’ve always known. I’ve always known I wanted you, whether or not I knew your name or face. And I’ve always known I wanted to build a home with you, for as long as I’ve been alive. And I’ll want it ‘til the day I die. I know it.”

You chuckle. He’s always had at least a little bit of a taste for the dramatic.

He laughs along with you. “It’s only because I love you so much,” he adds.

“I love you too, Sigma. But please know we’ll always be a home, a family together even if we always remain just the two of us. You are my family.”

The sincerity and strength behind your words make him smile. “And you are my family, my love. Always and forever.”

[ssparksflyy]

ours ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: leo valdez x gn!reader summary: finally going home to see leo after a long day at work ♡ warning(s): tiny swears but like youll be fine word count: 938 a/n: ive had this idea for soso long nd im glad to finally write it :)) also requests r open so send em in ! this is set after the war :D GO LISTEN TO OURS BY TAY

you sighed as you leaned back into your cheap office chair, looking over at the clock on your desk. 4:55. a whine escaped your lips as you realized you had to sit at this godforsaken desk for another five minutes.

"damn, love-struck fool can't even wait another five minutes to see their loverboy?" your coworker asked, turning around in her chair.

"whatever, melody" you said, turning your head in her direction.

she chuckled and paused, "you know, you could do so much better than him."

you turned around in your chair to face her, glaring.

"im just saying, are you really sure he's the one? i mean, he's scrawny, roughed up, and really not that cute." she said, staring at a picture of you and leo you had on your desk, one you'd taken together at a county fair.

'oh but if he were white you'd be fawning all over him' you thought.

"and those tattoos, i mean, he does realize those are permanent, right? like come on, doodle bob on your wrist? i swear, there's childish and then there's your boyfriend."

you were seriously biting your tongue now. you were so tired of people judging leo and your relationship, as if they would even try to get to know him. and you loved his doodle bob tattoo!!

"you sound like my dad, dude" you said, no emotion in your voice.

"well maybe he has i point, i mean personally, i wouldn't really approve if my kid was dating someone-"

you left before she could finish her sentence. your time was no longer hers, it was five p.m. your time belonged to leo now.

⊹₊🔥⋆｡°✩

you dropped your bag onto the floor, placed your keys on their hook and slipped off your shoes the second you walked into your apartment.

"leo? where are you?" you called out, dragging your feet.

"in the kitchen!" he shouted, and you headed over.

you walked into the kitchen to see leo making dinner, a smile spreading onto your face as you realized he was making (favorite food).

"hey! how was work today?" he asked, looking up at you with his classic leo valdez smile.

"absolutely horrible, i hated every second" you said, walking over to him and slinging your arms around his waist as you nuzzled your head into his neck, "i missed you."

he chuckled, stopping what he was doing and turning around, pulling you into his chest and giving you a hug.

"really? well what made it so horrible?" he asked, placing a kiss on top of your head.

you groaned and removed your head from his neck to look at him, "well the awkward elevator ride is always a horrible start to the day, you'd think people would learn about something called deodorant by now. then once i got to my desk, my boss called me into her office and asked me to go through some files that needed to be sorted, i didn't mind but you know, boorriinnggg. uh, and then i went back to my desk for the rest of the day and then like just as i was about to leave, melody started bitching again."

he furrowed his eyebrows, "again? gods what was she criticizing this time?"

you looked down, "you."

"me?? what have i ever done to this woman? i don't even know her!" he said, "please tell me you punched her."

"leo, you know if i didn't need this job she would've been in the hospital on life support by now" you said, raising your head and placing a kiss on his cheek.

he laughed, "well don't worry to much about her, she's just jealous. you know people just love throwing rocks at things that shine."

"oh my god when did you become a poet?" you said, pretending to be shocked.

"i heard it in a taylor swift song, okay?" he said, blushing and looking down.

you laughed as you pulled him in close once again.

⊹₊🔥⋆｡°✩

that night, you ate real good. you had loved (favorite food) before leo had made it for you, but ever since the time he made some for one of your dates, you were yet to find somebody who made it better than he did. he always claimed his version was better because his was made with undying love and affection, which always made you giggle.

after dinner, you settled down on the couch, cuddling and watching a movie. around midway, you stopped paying attention to the movie and started paying attention to leo. you seriously didn't know what you'd done to deserve someone like him. he treated you so well, and loved you in a way nobody else could. you didn't get how people like melody couldn't see that. if anything, you were a little glad they couldn't. that meant that you'd get your perfect repair boy all to yourself. you were the one who would get his toothy smiles, the ones where you were able to see the gap between his teeth that you loved so much. you were the one who would get his homemade meals whenever you came home from work. you were the one who would get to try and figure out the riddles he'd recite. you were the one who got moments like this, moments you wouldn't trade anything in the world for.

leo looked down, noticing that you were staring.

"something wrong?" he asked.

you shook your head, "i just love you so much, leo."

he smiled, "i love you too, (y/n)."

you no longer cared about what other people thought of your relationship. this love was yours, not theirs.

a/n two: tysm for reading!! js somethin short i wanted to get out :)) i fr wasnt able to listen to ours without thinking of this and i was just like ugh i need 2 write this so.. here we are! hope u enjoyed and have a good day/night !!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[luveline]

hey babe, i was wondering if you’d write something with grumpy!sirius platonic or romantic (your choice) where the readers normally sunshine and all happy but everyone forgot her birthday so he does everything he can to cheer her up

not projecting at all 🤭

if you don’t want to that’s so okay i understand diolch cariad 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hi, thank you for your request! I hope you can make the very best of your day, anon, I’m sorry the people close to you forgot it :( please have a happy birthday! grumpy!sirius x sunshine fem!reader

Sirius is guilty of pretending you irk him. You're always smiling, always complimenting him, and always touching him. He knows you wouldn't touch him if he asked you not to —you checked with him a couple of times when you first met if it was okay, and he said, Yeah, it's okay, with no further explanation or objection. 

He pretends your sunny disposition doesn't make him happy, too, but it does. It's selfish, then, when he notices you aren't feeling good today and decides he has to correct it immediately, lest the ray of sunshine that is your presence diminish. 

He sits down beside you on the bench, propping his face in his hand, elbow on his knee, a picture of nonchalance. "Hey." 

"Hi, Siri." 

He takes his pack of Lamberts from his jacket pocket and offers you one. You never take one, but he offers anyway. He doesn't want you to start smoking, he just figures that it's a nice gesture. 

He puts them away without lighting any when you say no. 

"Don't not have one on my account," you say. 

It's exactly why you deserve to have someone checking on you, no matter how cold it is, and no matter how much fun everyone's having at the bar. You put everyone else first.

"I didn't want any." He was trying to cheer you up. He should've known a cigarette wouldn't do it. Best go in with guns blazing. 

Sirius rifles through the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out the white box inside. He hadn't wrapped it. There's a confidence that comes with sincerity, and it's the kind of confidence he lacks. He's embarrassed enough to have bought you something in the first place. 

"Happy birthday," he says. "Don't tell me if you don't like it, please." 

You sit up a little straighter, inch by inch, accepting the small box into your hands. They wrap around the lid, your fingers moving with a deliberate gentleness, until your thumbs clamp over the top of it hard enough to make the lid bend. You smile at him, and it is perhaps the most heartbreaking smile he's ever seen. Disappointment and gratefulness all wrapped into one. 

"I didn't think anyone remembered," you say. Your voice is hoarse, and you cough rather than let it crack. 

He thought maybe you'd been upset because it was your birthday —Sirius himself has a weird relationship with his. He hadn't considered that no one else thought to celebrate with you. And despite his general unhappiness, his permanent headache and all the constraints of being as introverted as he is, Sirius sort of snaps.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, his elbow resting against your back, and pulls you toward him. "I'm so sorry." 

You're clearly surprised by his touch, but you don't shy away. "No, it's okay. I realise that it's my fault, you know, we're all adults and I should've mentioned it again, I can't expect people to know if I don't say." 

"I think…" He licks his lips. "Okay, I think that people genuinely do forget things, but it's a special day, and you expected special things. I really don't see how it's your fault." 

"Maybe not," you concede. You sniffle, and Sirius is horrified to realise you've a tear traversing down the soft slope of your cheek. "I don't know, I just wish people remembered." 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

You wipe your cheek with a cruel hand. He can't stop himself from taking it, wanting to prevent any further self-meanness. Your eyes widen as you look him in the face, tears dewy at the waterline. 

"But you remembered," you say, tone happy even while thick with tears. 

"I wrote it down," he confesses. "I wanted to get it right." 

"That's so nice," you say, another tear cresting your cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and tuck your cheek against his in a hug. "That's really thoughtful, Siri. Thank you." 

"You're welcome. You… make so much time for me. Whenever you see me. I don't know if you know how much you affect people, you can make anybody smile. I wanted to make sure I could do the same, even if it's only once." 

"You make me smile all the time." You squeeze him and then pull away, wiping your cheeks and straightening your jacket. 

He'd usually roll his eyes, but not right now. He just smiles at you, hoping you understand it for all the silent appreciation that it is. 

You huff a little breath in and drop your gaze to your hands in your lap, where you're untying the bow that's been wrapped around the jewellery box. You lift the lid, the sides emitting a shushing sound near enough lost to the sound of the street and the people laughing in the pub behind you. 

It's a bracelet. The beads are simple but not something you'd see everyday, silver backed hearts, flat on the silver side and a milky white that seems to glow on the bevelled fronts. There's four hearts, connected to smaller milky white beads. 

He was terrified buying it and he's scared now. 

"I really like you," he says. "I'm sorry about your birthday. You deserve a lot more." 

Your cheeks apple as you turn to him, your eyelashes kissing with the force of your smile. You pull your knees to touch his and offer him the bracelet on two fingers. "Can you hook it on, please?" 

"You don't have to wear it," he says, because he didn't think this far. 

"I want to wear it, please. It's beautiful. It's the nicest gift anyone's ever given me." 

He blinks hard and dips his head slightly to one side as he murmurs, "If you're sure," hands coming up to take the bracelet from you. 

You're both quiet as he unlatches it and lays it across your wrist. He's gentle to the point of aching, and he's putting every bit of effort that he can to stop his hands from trembling, he's so nervous.

"There," he says. "Anything else you need?" 

It's meant to be sarcastic, as if to say, you're working me like a dog, here. 

You shake your head hurriedly. "Nothing else. Thank you, Sirius." 

He takes his cigarettes out, knowing he won't be able to calm down, not when you're looking at him like he just hung the moon. "It's okay," he says, putting a cigarette between his lips. "Don't mention it. Please, don't." 

[gtgbabie0]

hiii, so i have a request, i keep thinking about how hard it was for spencer reid in high school and growing up cause he didn’t have any friends and the only person he could rely on was his mom who wasn’t very stable😭so i wanted a fic where the reader and spencer a best friends but he’s in love with her and it’s in the first seasons, and the reader just kind of brings up how brave he is and comforts him and he’s just overwhelmed because no one actually paid attention to that and confesses to her and they kiss and stuff<33 btw i love your work and how you write🫶🏻

-Spencer Reid x Reader

{Friends to lovers with Spencer}

Sorry, this took forever my love! College has been keeping me very busy. This request made me so soft pls I love him sm!! I hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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It is late into the night when Spencer calls you, the thought of staying home alone is far too daunting for him to handle tonight and without a single complaint, you pack a small bag together and drive to his apartment.

Spencer still, after all these years of friendship can’t believe you always come all the way over to his place just for him, without expecting anything in return. You can tell by the look that paints his face when he opens the door, just how he’s taken back he is as you offer him a warm smile.

“I’m sorry I- I just. I couldn’t do it” he tries to explain, as if he needs to justify his reason for calling you. He struggles to find the right words to perfectly describe how he’s feeling right now, the odd ache that captures his chest entirely, a feeling that seeps into his bones and leaves him unsettled.

He closes the door behind you, locking it, as you drop your bag on the wooden floor next to his shoes, “It’s okay Spence, honestly. I don’t mind you know that” You smile at him, a sweet sight that melts his heart.

You’ve always been so kind to him something that Spencer didn’t think was reserved for him, for whatever reason. He was used to it and as horrible as that sounds it’s the truth. He’s used to people's unkind opinions about him, how they always seem to nitpick at his insecurities. That was his life growing up, especially in school.

Then he met you, incredible, beautiful you who left him star-struck. Spencer wasn’t used to having someone like you in his life, someone who always seemed to put him first and cared about him with this unconditional affection, and it often led him to feel as if it were some kind of joke that he wasn’t in on.

However, he quickly learned that that was far from the truth. It was the first night he opened up about his mother and in return you gave him your shoulder to cry on without any kind of judgement, Spencer practically felt all his walls crumble and in their wake came a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was safety, you made him feel safe.

You look over at him noticing the way his eyes glisten with tears and you can’t help the blocky feeling that wedges itself in the back of your throat, you open your arms out to him, an offer he wouldn’t ever turn down.

Spencer wraps his arms around you tightly as if you might disappear into thin air. He lets his head fall upon your shoulder, a deep sigh escaping him as your hands soothe against his back. You’ve always had a way of making him feel completely at peace, despite the seemingly permanent stress cloud that hangs above him recently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You whisper as he sniffles against you, his shoulders shake beneath your hold ever so slightly and it causes a sudden pain to seize your heart, the type that has your chest tightening.

He takes a moment to ponder your question, “Maybe later? I just- it’s been a long week” he mumbles against your shoulder and in return you whisper a small ‘okay’ and Spencer sighs with relief, forever thankful for your patience.

The pair of you soon find yourselves sitting on his loveseat, empty take-out boxes sitting on the coffee table as Spencer is completely engrossed with the way you colour in your colouring book, in all honesty, Spencer could study you for hours and never find himself bored.

“It looks really good” he comments with a hushed tone as he closes the book he was reading, although he hadn’t even finished the first sentence let alone the chapter, far too enchanted by how you add vitality to the once colourless page, bringing the drawing of the Dolphins to life.

You look up at him with a bright smile through very tired eyes, “Thank you, Spence. Dolphins really are beautiful creatures” you state and he hums in agreement as you continue to shade them with a darker blue, a small yawn escaping you.

A certain peace blankets over the pair of you and it’s as if nothing outside of his apartment matters. The clarity allows Spencer's mind to drift, thinking about what it would be like to be with you, to come home to you, sleep next to you. He wonders if you’ll stay even though the nights where he all does is toss and turn if you’ll keep the nightmares at bay. He loses himself in what life would be like with you, a recurring thought.

“Penny for your thoughts sir?” You giggle, noticing the way he seems so deep in thought.

He clears his throat, racking his brain for a fact about dolphins but it’s hard when he’s so focused on you, “Oh umm-” he frowns before finally, the words began to fall effortlessly from his lips.

“Did you know, Dolphins have more brain capacity than humans, Their brains weigh 1600 grams to our 1300 grams. Dolphin brains also have a complex neocortex, which is the part of the brain that allows you to be self-aware and solve problems.” He lists off as if it were as easy as breathing and to Spencer it is.

He watches with pride blooming through his chest as your eyebrows lift with shock, “I actually didn’t know that, I suppose they don’t have anything on your IQ of 187 though” You smile, putting away your colouring book as you rub at your sleepy eyes.

“That and I guess it has something to do with me being human” he chuckles, helping you put away all of your many felt tips.

Spencer looks over at the clock, guilt immediately seeping into his heart. It’s gone past twelve am and he knows you have work tomorrow, it was selfish of him to ruin your sleep schedule just because he had a bad day, and just like that, he finds himself deep within his own self-sabotage.

It’s almost annoying how quickly you pick up on it, “You are just human Spencer, I think you forget that sometimes” You smile kindly at him, reaching for his hand and his breath hitches slightly at the sudden warmth.

“I’m sorry for keeping you so long” he whispers, fiddling with the loose thread of his sweater, “You’ve got work tomorrow and I kept you here I just-” You don’t give him time to continue, knowing it’ll just end up with him talking poorly about himself.

“-Spencer, I can just call in sick but that’s not the point, I’m here because you needed me and I’ll be here for however long you want,” you tell him, squeezing his hand slightly as you brush your thumb over his knuckles.

He doesn’t know what to say or do, his mind rushes with so many words he wants to say, yet all of them seem to be stuck in a ball in the back of his throat.

“What- what if I- what if I need you forever?” He whispers, eyes not daring to glance at yours the fear of rejection still captures him even if he knows that you would go to the ends of the world for him.

“Then I’ll be here forever silly,” you tell him, inching closer to him.

Spencer thinks his heart might just burst out of his chest, years of emotions building up inside him and despite everything he’s seen and been through this might just be the scariest feeling he’s ever felt.

“What is it?” You whisper, and he looks at you with so much emotion in his eyes it’s hard for you to read.

“I’m scared” his voice quivers as he bites back the tears that cling to his eyes, rubbing them away before they have time to fall, “What if I can’t do this?”

It's the truth he's terrified of loving you for so many reasons, he could sit there for hours listing them off, but they all seem to boil down to the thought of losing you, his solace in the crazy world.

Your eyebrows thread together as you move closer to him, you don’t really know what he means.

“Spencer Reid, you are the bravest person I know. I mean you’ve been through so much Spence and despite that, you’re still so selfless” you tell him, wiping away his tears with your sleeve.

Spencer knows he loves you, he’s known for a very long time, and now sitting here with you as you pour your heart out his feelings only triple. You're so close he can sense your body heat radiating off of you, and with the sudden closeness comes that all too familiar sickly feeling that spreads through his chest.

“Whatever it is you’re scared to do, I’ll be here through it all”

You smile when he finally looks up at you, forehead resting against your own as both your hearts pick up in pace. The butterflies in his stomach are all too prominent because, goodness you're so close to him, and he can feel your gentle breath fanning along his cheek.

His nose brushes against yours as you press your lips to his own, his tears wetting your own face, completely overcome with emotions as he leans into you chasing after your warmth as he kisses you back, something that surprisingly comes so easy to him.

“I love you in ways that terrify me” he whispers against you as you brush his hair away from his eyes, “I’ve loved you for a very long time” he confesses with a shaky sigh.

“Spencer-” you can’t help but let out a breathy giggle, “I love you too” and it doesn’t take long for you to kiss him again, excitement snuffing out the doubt in his mind. You both smile against each other's lips, the kiss breaking as you do so.

His heart has never felt so full before, content as you rest against him. Just as it should be.

“Can I ask you something?” You wonder, sitting up slightly as he nods with a small ‘Anything’

“How long?” You chuckle when he blushes, his cheeks adorned with a deep red colour.

“Longer than I care to admit” he whispers clearing his throat.

“So- how long is that?” Ah yes, you and your persistence.

“Since we were seventeen” he whispers so quietly that you can barely even hear him, and if you weren’t sitting so close you don’t think you would have heard him.

“Seventeen?” You ask as he nods, solidifying his answer and, if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t want to know your answer but yet that doesn’t stop him from asking, ‘What about you?’

You feel your face heat up dropping your head to his shoulder as you mumble a quiet, ‘Fourteen’ Your answer confuses him as he tilts his head slightly to try and look at you.

“Fourteen? We didn’t even know ea-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you run off into the bathroom excusing yourself as he holds back a chuckle.

He decides to let it go for now, you can’t exactly hide in the bathroom forever and he knows he’s got a long time to talk to you about it so for now he’ll bask in this prideful feeling, knowing he’s been the one to hold your heart for years and many more to come.

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[st-el-la-luna]

Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader

tumblr deleted the orgininal for whatever reason. Luckily I tracked down a reblog. Edited and added some new stuff (love tumblr for deleting my most popular post, rip my 600+ notes 😔)

NSFW 18+

Soap is forced into an early retirement. He gets a job at a small bakery. And that's where he meets you

➔ gn!afab!reader (described as having boobs & wearing a bra), creepy soap, pervy soap, obsessive soap, lust at first sight, non/dub-con cum eating, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, humping inanimate objects, coming in panta

After so many years working in the military, serving his country. Protecting the people of the world from danger. The last thing Soap expected waas tyo be discharged so suddenly and with so little warning.

Too much time working with explosives has affected his hearing. A bad knife wound, or a torn Achilles tendon. A bad break that never healed right. A couple of head injuries too many. 

"An early retirement," they'd called it. Forced retirement more like it. They won't even tell him why, just that he's, "no longer fit for active duty," and that he should be grateful that they, "got him such a nice deal. That he gets to keep his pension."

He’s bitter about it, understandably, He likes his job. He’s good at it. They can’t be serious about this! His performance hasn’t been hindered. 

Regardless of the reason, in spite of his arguments, Soap is benched, permanently. Price is apologetic, Ghost is... Distant, though that's to be expected. Gaz promises to keep in touch. And he does keep in touch, they all do. 

But it’s ot the same. Soap still feels lonely. Bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or all the time he suddenly has on his hands. Doesn’t know how to operate without the adrenaline rush, without something to occupy his hands and minds. He figures that, maybe, he should get a job. A civilian job. Not one of those cushy desk jocky jobs Price had offered him out of pity, Soap wants a job far removed from the military. Really reintegrate himself into normal, civvie life. 

After a bit of searching along the drizzly cobbled Glasgowian streets, Soap finds a little coffee shop and bakery nearby. A tiny, quaint little thing, run by a sweet old woman who just doesn't have the energy to keep the doors open on her own. 

The place is situated on a street corner, tucked away from the busy traffic-filled streets. A soft bell jingles when the door opens. The sign is hsand painted. The place, though clearly aged, is well looked after, loved. The wood floors and counters shine; the tables and chairs, though antique, are comfortable, well made; plants hang from the ceiling; and a couple bookshelves line a wall, a leave a book take a book community library. 

Soap applies for the position and despite his lack of experience, he gets the job. Something about him reminding the old woman of her own son. 

At first, Soap worked there with her. Learning the ins and outs of the trade. How to make meringue and bread and macrons and creme brûlé. It's not easy, not at first, but with practice and time, he gets the hang of it. 

He figures it's because of his experience with explosives and chemistry. Baking is... Kind of the same thing. 

Eventually, he's left to tend to the day-to-day affairs of the bakery. The woman still writes all the recipes and makes some of the breads. But he's the one managing the front of the house. 

It's where he meets you. 

Sweet. Kind. Polite. Breathtaking. Irresistible. Sexy. You. 

You come tumbling into the warm bakery on a day when the weather is particularly bad, even for Scotland. Strong winds, cold rains threatening to turn to hail, thunder rumbling in the distance. 

You're soaked to the bone. Hair dripping. Shoes leaving puddles in your wake as each of your steps is announced by a wet squish. Your full cheeks bitten by the cold, fingertips numb, you offer him a blinding smile. 

He's more focused on your tits though. And your bra. Visible through your thin, now see-through, shirt. Black lace. He can see how your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. He can even see a small mole, or maybe a birthmark, on the swell just above the cup of your bra. He wants to sink his teeth into you. Wants to suck that mark into his mouth, chew and lick at it, make it bigger. Make it his. Make you his.  

He's drooling a little, he realizes absently. 

"Hey," you say softly, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. Hands curled into adorable little sweater paws as you try to wipe your wet hands off on your equally wet pants. 

Soap just stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Shell shocked. He... He’s never... You’re so... He... Holy fuck. 

Eventually, he clears his throat and manages a smile, stepping a bit closer to the counter so he can hide the growing tent in his pants. He forces himself to meet your eyes, rather than stare at your chest. 

But they’re staring at me, his innermost thoughts whine, wanton and airy in his mind. So desperate for attention... for love... ready to be suckled and bit and groped and pinched... 

Johnny leans forward, elbows resting on the counter and chuckles, flashing you an easy, charming smile. "Hey... Looking for something to warm you up?" 

Please say you've already found what you're looking for. Please say you want him to warm you up. With his hands. His mouth. His cock. Please say– 

"Yeah... Do you guys do hot chocolates?" 

"It's not on the menu, but I've got my own stash in the back," he says as he looks you up and down. But how could you blame him? What with your... everything! This is your fault, honestly. Dirty, dirty, little thing, wearing a white shirt in the rain. You know what you’re doing. Something sinister and heated bubbles in his gut. A thick, molten, syrupy desire, a primal need. A sort of instinctive pull, a fish lured in by the soft glow of an angler fish. A moth to a flame. Helpless but to stare, slack jawed, and fighting back drool, as you stare up at him expectantly, He smiles, his lips spreading further as he notices your flustered state, how you shift under his stare, biting your lip as he looks you up and down. Logically, it’s a nervous reaction. But, in Soap’s quickly spiraling mind, it’s a clean indicator that you want him too. "I'll make one, special for you, darling." 

Your eyes sparkle, your smile tears the breath from his lungs. "Really? Oh my god, thank you." 

Soap grabs a mug from the shelf and twirls it around his finger. He pulls up his sleeves, bunching them around his mid biceps. He flexes, purposefully, showing off the hard-earned muscles in his arms, the scars, the prominent veins, his big, strong hands. Hands that would look so perfect around your neck. Or holding your wrists. Or deep between your shaking legs reaching deep and good, far past anything you could reach on his own. He wonders if you’re a crier. He hopes that you are. 

Soap notices the way your eyes fall to the newly exposed skin. The way your jaw drops a little. The way you close your mouth. The way you glance away before quickly looking back. The way your throat bobs when you swallow... 

Holy shit. 

He can give you something else to swallow if you'll let him. Please let him. 

He rolls his hips against the counter and lets out a stuttering breath through his nose. His lips part. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth. 

A moan bubbles in his throat, he disguises it as a cough. "Can..." He swallows another noise as he shifts his stance, achingly cock pressed against the teeth of his zipper. He makes a show of dusting the counter off, acting like he's tossed something into the bin so he can adjust his pants. "Can I get you anything else?" 

Your eyes, gorgeous eyes, scan the menu and the display. "A cinnamon bun?" You ask, pointing to the delicacy through the glass case. "Please and thank you." 

"You're in luck," he says, rutting against the counter again, as quick and harsh as he can without drawing attention. A part of him thoough, a sick, twisted, part of him that quickly spreads his mind like a weed, corrupting and poisoning, wants you to notice. Wants you to catch him. To punish him. "Just made a fresh batch... I've just got to head back and ice them." 

"Oh, I'm fine with one of them from the display, you don't need to trouble yourself." 

Oh, and how sweet you are... 

You keep chewing on your bottom lip. Part of him wants to stop you, tell you that that’s his job. Wants to bite your lips until they’re raw and swollen. 

He's fucked. Well and truly fucked. 

He smiles. You’re blissfully ignorant of the darkness lurking in his eyes. "No trouble at all... It's my pleasure." 

And it is his pleasure. Very much so. 

He comes out a bit later, a little out of breath. A little red in the face. A couple buttons undone on his shirt. 

"Hot in there," he says with a smile, setting the mug and a cinnamon bun on the counter in front of you. He sets another little plate down, a doughnut. Chocolate frosting with a cream filling, the sticky white substance still pouring from the hole. 

"I uh, I didn't order that," you say with a little, awkward laugh. "The doughnut." 

"I know you didn't, sweet thing... It's a new recipe I've been trying out. Trying to get right... Mind telling me what you think? It's free of charge, promise." 

"Oh," you blink, staring up at him with those wide eyes. God, how he wants to see those eyes watering. How he wants to see those eyes tearing up as you choke on his cock. How he wants to see you cry as he fucks you. You smile. "Thank you!" 

You pay for your drink and dessert and blink up at him from under your lashes. Your smile turns shy as you chew your lip. Stop it. Stop it. You’re going to make him lose his mind. You have to know what you’re doing to him. You have to. "Keep the change." 

He smiles. "Thanks." 

You find a seat in the corner and settle in the corner with a book. Soap keeps an eye on you the whole time. Watches you as much as he can without attracting unwanted attention. 

His cock throbs in his pants when he sees you take your first bite of the cinnamon roll. When you wipe at the icing with your thumb and lick it clean. He watches with delight as you eat and drink, rolling his hips against the counter in time with the bobbing of your throat as you swallow. 

Soap watches you with rapt attention as you enjoy the desserts. His lips parted, jaw slack, drooling. He wonders if he could convince you to lick it away. He is so glad that he stopped by the office to record the security footage. He’s going to be watching this over and over and... Fuck! 

With a final grind of his aching cock against the counter, his boxers are flooded with a wet, sticky warmth. He mourns it going to waste like that. His cum belongs in you. Your tight pussy, round ass, past your full lips. 

"How was it?" He asks, breathless, when you return your dishes to the counter. He shifts his stance, hiding the wet spot in his pants. He's not embarrassed that he came in his pants just from watching how your throat moves as you swallow. At watching the way that you lave your tongue over your fingers, licking the thick glaze away with a spit-slicked tongue. 

He just doesn't want to weird you out. 

"It was amazing," you say. "I really liked the balance of the sweet with the salty... Sometimes the sugar is just... Too much." 

"I agree," Soap says, breathless. He swallows a lump in his throat. "I agree." 

You become a regular from then on. He always gets you freshly baked items, from the back. No matter how busy. 

He's not supposed to alter the recipes. But he doubts the lady will mind that he made a change. All he did was put a little love into the recipes. A little bit of himself in the sour cream glaze. 

Keep your eyes peeled for a part 1.5 involving what soap did in the back room!

Comments and reblogs help motivate!

Masterlist!

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — Lord of the Castle on the Hill

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➮ feudal lord!San × fem!Reader wc: 7.2k summary: Stumbling into the history section, Y/N soon learns she has somehow infiltrated the palace of a very wealthy feudal lord but instead of having her imprisoned or executed, the lord asks her to dine with him. The very handsome lord. genres/themes/au: smut; fantasy, historical drama, feudal era, Joseon era; non idol au, historical drama au, feudal/Joseon era au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, implied alcohol consumption, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: this wasn’t easy to write. I had to restart it a couple times but finally, I found something I liked and stuck with it. A special shout out to my lovely bestie Sky☁️ cause I know you'll read this. Enjoy your San smut cause Jongho is coming ;) thank you all so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

smut warnings: waterplay (fooling around in a hot spring. do not do this lol), fingering (f receiving), edging/orgasm control, oral (f receiving), face riding (m receiving), nipple play (f receiving), light impact play (spanking, pussy slapping), marking (f receiving, m receiving), possessive!San, very light knife play (San uses a knife to cut open the front of Y/N's dress), use of pet names (baby, kitten, kitty, sweetheart), lace kink (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), cumplay (San cums on her ass and pussy and pushes some into her), and I think I got all of it. If I missed anything, please let me know!

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“I trust you were successful?”

You walked over to the desk, climbing the few steps to drop the second key on the desk before Seonghwa who looked down at the metal before looking back up with a smile. “Perfect,” he said, moving to scoop up the key and place it back inside the box before looking back up at you.

“Where to next?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. You narrowed your eyes down at him. “That’s it?” You asked, anger flowing through your veins. After what you’ve been through? That’s all he had to say?

Seonghwa stared innocently up at you.

“I’m sorry?” he asked as you walked around the desk, reaching forward to grab the front of his shirt. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!?” You screamed, fist shaking as Seonghwa stared up at you with wide eyes.

“Aliens and spiders and massive spider creatures! Do you know what I’ve had to do to get these keys?! And you have the audacity to act like I’m just walking in there and grabbing the key before coming back!”

Seonghwa let out a sigh but you weren’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.

“I watched a man get ripped in half! I thought he was dead!”

You gestured down at your appearance. “I still have his blood all over me!”

“I’m the one out there in the field while you sit here comfortably and wait for me to come back so you can offer some witty and sarcastic remark while I’m risking my fucking life?!”

You were beyond pissed but you failed to see that Seonghwa was beyond annoyed.

In a flash, he stood up, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm before pushing you over onto the desk, pinning you down.

“Do not test my patience, mortal,” he hissed, the heat from his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “I’m entirely aware of everything you’re doing out there. I see everything that happens in this library,” he continued in a low, gravelly voice.

“Never forget that.”

He let go of your arm, allowing you to stand up and turn to face him. You rubbed your wrist, glaring at him as your chest heaved. Seonghwa stared back just as angrily. “Now,” he said in a much calmer tone, moving to stand in front of the desk and turn to look at you.

“Where to next?”

You looked away, blinking back tears as you looked at the doors before settling on one. “That one,” you said, pointing to a door with a sign above it that read History.

Seonghwa nodded wordlessly and walked over to the door, waiting for you to join him. When you finally did, he unlocked the door and opened it. “Your life is less likely to be in danger here,” he explained as he held the door open. “Of course, it’s never safe,” he added. “You’ll never be safe in the Library.”

You walked past him into the dark hallway. “But at least there won’t be aliens or giant spider creatures,” he added as you glanced back at him. “Tread carefully,” he continued. “This may not be the science fiction or horror sections, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier. Man is sometimes the most dangerous beast you’ll face.”

With that, Seonghwa shut the door with a soft click and you were left to your own devices. You turned and started down the corridor, just as before, the shelves lined your path, books and stacks of paper filling each shelf.

As you walked, the corridor seemed to grow darker and darker and as you stepped forward the books and shelves were gone in the blink of an eye and instead you were standing in a long hallway lined with rice paper walls.

Looking around, you saw lanterns providing light outside the walls and you surmised it was night time wherever you had been transported. Continuing on, your boots echoed against the wooden floor. Not a soul in sight as you went on.

You finally reached the end of the hall and slid open the door. Beyond was a vast courtyard complete with a rock garden, manicured bushes, trees, and even a beautiful pond with a small gazebo.

You walked down the stone steps and looked around. You were inside some sort of castle complex. A palace it seemed. As you continued on, you looked around, noticing how the only light came from lanterns and the moon. Not even the stars were visible which you found strange.

‘Where am I? Why aren’t there any stars?’

“You there!” A voice called, causing you to jump and turn around.

A man stood behind you, dressed in armor. ‘A guard?’

“Who are you?” The man asked. “How did you get in here?”

You found yourself unable to speak, too stunned.

Backing away slowly, the man seemed to think you were about to bolt. “Halt!”

Following your gut, you took off in the opposite direction.

‘Curse that damn Seonghwa.’

You darted through the garden, dodging plants and rocks as you went. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw your pursuer was joined by another guard.

You jumped over a low stone wall and turned the corner only to run into another guard who was quick to grab you. The other two caught up as the one pinned your arms behind your back and your wrists were quickly bound.

“Bring her to the Lord!”

You were hoisted up to your feet and pushed along as two guards led the way while the third, the one that caught you, brought up the rear.

The walk across the complex was short and the maze of corridors long until the doors were opened and you were pushed into a room full of men. All the men were wearing robes of varying colors as they looked up from papers and towards the door as you were shown in.

“What’s this?” one of the men, an older gentleman with a pointed gray beard asked, looking from the guards to you and back. “Found her near the garden,” the first guard said. “She tried to run but we caught her.”

Another man looked up from his papers, thick brows furrowing in anger. “A spy!” he roared. You shook your head. “I’m not a spy!” you shouted only for a heavy blow to hit your stomach, causing you to double over in pain. “Silence!”

“You know what we do to spies,” the gray bearded man sneered.

“Execution!” another man shouted to murmurs of excitement.

You looked up, eyes wide with fear. ‘Seriously? Safer? Fuck you, Seonghwa!’

“Yes, execution!” an older man with white hair and facial hair cried. As the shouts for your execution grew, another voice rang out.

“SILENCE!”

You glanced up to the front of the room, sitting atop a platform with steps leading up was a much younger man than the others in the room. He had shorter black hair and wore dark blue silks. He had cat-like eyes as he peered around the room.

“But sire,” another man said. The man atop the platform turned his eyes upon the man, glaring at him. “Hold your tongue or I’ll have it cut out,” the man said, his underling shying away instantly.

Your stomach churned as the young man turned his attention upon you.

“Bring her here,” he instructed, his voice no longer loud but still just as commanding. One of the guards grabbed your bound wrists and pulled you up, a sharp pain shooting through your arm. You hissed in pain.

“I said ‘bring her,’” the young man ordered. “Not ‘break her arm.’”

The guard apologized and helped you to your feet, escorting you to the base of the platform. “Unbind her,” he said. The guards exchanged looks before one carefully undid the ropes binding your wrists.

Your eyes wandered, landing on something that glistened in the light of the lanterns. It was the same old metal you’d seen in the other sections. The same old metal Seonghwa held in his pocket.

‘The key.’

It hung on a hook next to the young man. Clearly it was something he held in high regard and protected. ‘He must be the Guardian!’

You blinked, realizing he was speaking to you.

“Come here,” the younger man said to you, his tone much softer now.

“Sire, I must protest!” one of the older men said. “She could be an assassin!”

The younger man narrowed his eyes on the speaker. “I seriously doubt that. What kind of assassin gets caught this easily?”

He turned his gaze back to you, expression softening instantly.

“Come here,” he said again, beckoning you forward.

Slowly, you ascended the steps, stopping on the second or third, bringing you eye level with the man. “Will you tell me the truth?” he asked to which you nodded wordlessly. “Are you a spy?” he asked. You shook your head. “If I was, I wouldn’t be a very good one, would I?” you answered to his amusement.

“And you aren’t an assassin?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook yours again. “No,” you replied. “I can’t even kill a spider.”

The man smiled, holding out at hand for you to take. You took it without hesitation and allowed him to pull you up onto the platform and guide you to take a seat. “You might want to rethink that,” he said softly, drawing your attention. “Most of these men are no different than spiders or snakes.”

His lips drew into a smirk, prompting you to return the smile.

“Sire, this is most unusual,” one of the men said. The man beside you dropped his smile and turned his head to look at the speaker. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” he said, the same annoyed tone back in his voice.

Clearly he didn’t like these men if the way he spoke to them compared to you was anything to go by. “It is late, leave us,” the man said before turning to one of the guards. “You stay.”

The room cleared as the men gathered up their papers and followed one another out of the room in a single file fashion, some murmuring and whispering as two of the three guards left the room, shutting the doors behind them.

“What is your name?” the man asked, drawing your attention.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you answered softly, looking at his smiling face. He turned to look at the only remaining guard. “Please have a room prepared for Y/N and ask the attendants to draw a bath for her,” he instructed. The guard nodded and exited the room through a side door as the man turned back to you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said with a genuine smile.

“I’m San and this is my castle.”

“Your c-castle?” you stammered. San’s smile widened, a certain fondness in his eyes. “Yes,” he answered. “Are you some sort of emperor or something?” you asked curiously. San chuckled, shaking his head. “No,” he answered. “A lord, actually.” Your eyes widened. ‘A lord? Were you supposed to bow? Or curtesy? How did you greet a lord?’

“I didn’t know,” you simply replied. San chuckled again. “It would seem you don’t know much about where you are,” he said, tilting his head. “How did you end up in my castle without anyone seeing you enter?”

Figuring it would be better if you feigned ignorance, you shrugged. “I don’t remember,” you lied. “I woke up in a long corridor and at the end was a door and when I opened it, I was here.”

You had no way of knowing whether or not San believed you but when he didn’t press further, you considered yourself lucky.

Before San had the chance to answer, a guard returned.

“A room has been prepared in the east wing,” he said. “The attendants are drawing a bath as we speak.” San sighed and turned back to look at you. “Let me show you around.”

The tour consisted of San showing you from a distance parts of his compound. It was much larger than you previously assumed but it was very pretty, even in the dark. It was obvious there was chemistry between the two of you and the tension between you was more than palpable.

The walk to your room didn’t take long and as you reached the door, San pulled you to a stop.

“Y/N, I’d like it if you'd join me for dinner,” he said, catching you off guard. “D-dinner?” You mentally kicked yourself for stuttering like an idiot.

San nodded. “If you’d rather eat alone, I understand,” he replied. You shook your head quickly. “No! I’d like to join you,” you stammered. The smile that spread across his face made your heart leap into your throat.

“Perfect. Bathe, dress, and then you will be shown to the dining hall,” he replied before giving you a small bow, eyeing you up and down once before turning to walk down the corridor, his guard in tow.

You pulled open the door and were greeted by two smiling faces. They were the attendants San must have called for. Both were dressed in traditional dresses in pastel colors. “Come, Miss,” one of them said, beckoning you to follow.

The room you’d been shown to was a suite of some sort. It was a large rectangular room with wood decor and furniture. The bed stood on a platform, a large round window on the wall behind. “The bath is over here.”

You were led out of the room to a small private hot spring.

“Please undress and we will help bathe you,” one of the attendants said. You felt suddenly self conscious as they both moved about.

You carefully and slowly undressed, setting your clothes aside. As one of the women grabbed your clothes, you turned to her. “Please don’t throw those away,” you blurted out. “And leave the undergarments, please.”

She gave you a shocked look before complying. She left your underwear but took the other clothes, promising to have them washed and returned.

The bathing process was much different than you were used to and after you were cleaned, you were finally allowed to dip into the hot springs, sighing in relief as you did. The hot water felt amazing against your sore muscles and aching joints as you relaxed in the water. “I will come back to check on you soon,” the attendant said before drawing a curtain to offer you some privacy.

‘I could get used to this,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Except I have to find a way to get that damn key!’

You tried to force that from your mind for the time being, wanting to enjoy this as much as possible.

San walked down the hall towards the room he’d had prepared for you. It was meant to be for his wife yet San still had yet to find a wife. He knew he was young and had some time before he needed to settle so he felt the room was perfect.

Especially as it had its own private hot spring much like his own quarters.

Walking past the entrance to your private chambers, he continued down the steps and to the gardens, following a path until it branched off between some dense bamboo. San continued to walk and walk until he reached a private seating area that just so happened to overlook your private onsen.

San arrived just in time to see you already relaxing in the hot water.

He smiled to himself, watching as you closed your eyes and rested your head against the rocks. His eyes started to wander, following the curve of your neck, scanning your collar and the way your breasts dipped into the water, only the tops visible in the dark, steamy water.

Before he knew what he was doing, San started to strip, setting his clothes aside before carefully making his way into the pool, dipping below the surface with a deep breath.

You must have dozed off because you sat up abruptly, woken up by a splashing sound. Looking around, you saw the water ripple, the surface having been disturbed by something. You peered around, trying to see if you could spot what had disturbed the water but found nothing.

As you settled back against the rocky wall, you felt something brush against your leg under the water and pulled back quickly, staring wide eyed at the water. Just as you started to play it off as your imagination, something grabbed your ankle and before you could scream, a figure surfaced, another hand coming up to cover your mouth.

You were staring into the face of—

“San!” you hissed as he removed his hand, smirking at you. “What are you doing?”

He chuckled, drops of water rolling off his skin and hitting the water.

“Are you surprised?”

You glared at him before remembering you were entirely nude in the water. Bringing your hands up to cover yourself, you sputtered as you tried to save your dignity. “Y-you can’t be in here!”

He slowly drifted closer. “Why not?” he asked softly, a teasing tone to his voice as he smirked at you.

“Because! I’m bathing,” you replied. San merely shrugged.

“We can bathe together,” he replied. Your cheeks burned and not because of the hot water.

“Isn't that inappropriate?” you asked quietly.

San snickered at you. “Is sneaking into someone’s home also not inappropriate?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I did not sneak,” you retorted. “I told you I don’t remember how I got in here.”

San offered a mischievous grin. “I don’t remember how I got in here,” he replied, making you roll your eyes. “Now you’re mocking me,” you pouted. San scooted closer, pushing your knees apart and ignoring your gasp. “Not mocking,” he replied, bringing one hand up to take your chin in his hand.

“I was inspired,” he answered. You narrowed your eyes again. “Liar,” you replied. San placed a hand over his chest. “I’m offended,” he said, sounding anything but.

“Stop mocking me!” you hissed. San chuckled, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes dipping to look at your lips. “Let me apologize.”

You knew what was coming but it still caught you off guard as his lips met yours. Before you had a chance to lean into it, you pushed him back. “What about the attendants?” San nuzzled your nose gently. “They won’t come in here unless I tell them to,” he murmured, taking your lips in another soft kiss.

You melted against him, hands moving up to his shoulders. “Tell me to stop and I will,” you heard him whisper. Shaking your head, you kissed him again. “Don’t stop.” San let out a groan, one of his hands ducking below the surface of the water and skimming down your chest and stomach, dipping between your thighs.

“Say it again,” he said breathlessly. “Say it.”

He pulled back to meet your gaze, pupils dilated. “Don’t stop,” you repeated, moaning as he pulled you into another kiss, his fingers finding your clit and starting to circle it slowly. You moaned against his lips, thighs squeezing around his hips as his fingers worked you up, barely slipping into your aching core.

“San,” you breathed. “Please don’t tease me.”

San chuckled against your skin, peppering kisses down your neck. “Keep begging me and I’ll consider it,” he replied. You whined, hips seeking more friction against his fingers but San pulled them away, his hand moving up to cup your breast.

“Beg for it,” he repeated. “Beg for my fingers, kitten.”

You moaned as he massaged your breasts, kneading them carefully. “Please San,” you whispered. “Louder,” San replied. “Beg for it, kitten.”

“P-please,” you stuttered. San chuckled darkly, taking your lips in a searing kiss as he sank his fingers into your cunt with a sigh. “So warm,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

You hadn’t entered the history section with the intention to fuck the guardian but then again, you hadn’t intended to fuck the other guardians either but stranger things had indeed happened.

You let out a whine against his lips. “Would you like that?” San asked as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of your pussy. “You want me to fill this pretty little pussy with my cock and fuck you?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his thumb draw circles against your clit, his fingers inside your cunt curling and coaxing you towards orgasm.

“Say it,” San whispered, watching your face contort with pleasure. “Say you want my cock inside you. Tell me you want me to fuck you and make you mine.”

“Yes,” you gasped, walls clenching around his fingers as he pressed light kisses to your cheek. “I want your cock inside me, San. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard and fill me up. I want you to make me yours.”

San growled, fingers moving faster as he rested his forehead against your temple. “M’gonna fuck you so good, kitten,” he murmured, curling his fingers against your walls.

Your orgasm was just within your reach, your moans growing in pitch before San pulled away, his fingers leaving your cunt aching and wanting more. “San!” you hissed as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry, kitten,” he cooed. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Without another word, San climbed out of the water, grabbing a robe and disappearing behind the curtain. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you went over what just happened in your head, only three words coming to mind.

‘Desperate. Pathetic. Whore.’

Once you were dried off and dressed, you were escorted to the room where you would be dining with San. You spent the entire walk over composing yourself and attempting to seem indifferent to the way he left you hanging.

Once shown inside, you took a seat and waited for San to arrive, surprised he wasn’t already there. The room was long and skinny with 20 places to sit. You suddenly wondered if you’d be dining with more than just San.

The quiet allowed you time to think. To plan.

Just how were you going to get the key? No doubt that room was heavily guarded so there’s no way you were going to just walk in and take it. You’d have to apply a bit more cunning to the situation.

One of the doors slid open and San entered the room, dressed in a different outfit but much like the one he’d been wearing when you first met him earlier. San moved to take his seat and looked up, noticing how far away you sat. He cleared his throat before nodding to the seat adjacent to him.

Looking around, you noticed the guard standing by the door nearest you. He wasn’t looking at you but you knew he was paying full attention. Getting up slowly, you walked down the room to your new seat and sat down.

“How do you expect us to talk when you’re sitting so far away?” San asked as the door across from you opened and several servants walked in, carrying different plates and platters.

You watched as they set them down, arranging them neatly on the table before moving and disappearing out the door they entered. The guard stepped out and shut the door, leaving just you, San, and one guard in the room.

“Please,” San said, gesturing to the food. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You thanked him and dug in immediately, not realizing just how starving you were. While you ate, San watched you closely, eating at his own pace. You felt very self conscious, having him watch you eat like that.

"So you really cannot tell me how you got into my castle?" San asked as he lifted his cup, taking a sip of sake. You shook your head silently.

How were you supposed to explain it? You were transported from a magical library? Or that all of this land, this entire world, was in the Library? How would he not think you were crazy after that?

No, it was better you simply pretend you didn't know.

San watched you carefully as you ate in silence. You glanced up, meeting his gaze and a smile slowly spread across his face. "You can tell me, you know? I'm not going to judge you."

Your heart leapt into your throat, like you'd been caught, almost as if he'd been reading your mind, listening to your thoughts. You still said nothing as you ate and drank silently. San continued to watch you, making you feel anxious, almost as if he was working everything out in his head.

Finally, he spoke again.

"I promise you can tell me anything," he said as he leaned in, keeping his eyes trained on you. His close proximity made your skin grow warm, heat creeping up into your face as you shifted nervously in your seat.

"Even if it seems impossible or outlandish," San continued, reaching a hand out to place over yours. "You can tell me."

The moment his skin met yours, it was like a fire was ignited in your veins. A desire not unlike what you'd experienced in the other sections. A deep, carnal craving bubbled from the pit of your stomach, your thighs clenching together under the skirt of the hanbok San had graciously lent you.

Your skin erupted into a thousand bumps, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. It took every ounce of willpower not to jump the man. That would only end poorly.

Instead, you pulled your hand from his quickly and apologized and continued to eat, taking a sip of your drink.

Sensing the subject needed, changing, San provided just that.

“I do apologize about earlier,” San said, prompting you to look up, meeting his gaze. “It wasn’t very nice of me, leaving you like that,” he continued. You lifted your glass to take a sip and nearly choked as you felt his hand pushing the skirt of your dress up. “Shh,” he whispered, eyes flickering to the guard and back to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he said softly when you glared at him. You shook your head. “Shall I keep going, then?” You nodded, biting into your bottom lip when you felt his fingers skim against the skin of your inner thigh.

“Keep quiet, baby,” he murmured, moving his hand to scoot your seat closer to him before his hand darted under your skirt again. You’d chosen to put your lace underwear back on and you were glad you did because as soon as his fingers met the material, his eyes widened, eyebrows raising as he felt around, inspecting.

“What is that?” he whispered. “Lace?” You nodded at him, resisting the urge to giggle. “Lace undergarments? I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

Looking away from your face, San cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the only remaining guard. “Please step outside and do a perimeter check,” he ordered. The guard hesitated before nodding and exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as the door shut, San stood up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up, dragging you away from your seats to the other end of the table. “Up,” he ordered, pushing the place settings out of the way, ignoring the plates and utensils that fell to the floor. You climbed up, settling on the table at the end.

San pushed your skirt up, pulling the chair up and taking a seat between your spread legs. He pushed your skirt higher, exposing your lace covered core to his gaze and instantly letting out a groan.

He peered down at them curiously. “It really is lace,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he lightly brushed his fingers over the material.

Your cheeks burned even hotter. “Y-yes,” you answered. San looked up to meet your gaze. “Lace undergarments,” he repeated. “I’ve really never heard of anything like that before.” His eyes moved back down to your lace covered core. “It sure doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” he added.

You nodded. “Lace is usually see through,” you reminded him, highly embarrassed to be explaining but also extremely turned on.

“Well,” he said softly. “These need to come off,” he added, sliding his hands up your thighs and grabbing the waistband of your panties. “May I remove them?”

You nodded much too quickly but you didn’t care at this point. You were dripping, soaking the black lace and ready to explode at any second. San luckily didn’t make a show of it and instead dragged them down as you lifted your hips.

Your cheeks burned as he held them up to inspect.

“They’re so… thin,” he said softly.

“San,” you whined, pulling your skirt up and showing him your glistening core. His eyes dipped down to look and he immediately grabbed your hips, your lace panties still in his hand. “Lay back for me, baby,” he instructed, tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

You did as he said, leaning back, propping yourself on your elbows as he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Don’t hold back,” he said suddenly, looking up to meet your gaze. “No one cares if they can hear you.”

Your cheeks burned as San’s head disappeared under your skirt. “This is highly inappropriate,” you said breathlessly.

San chuckled lightly, hands grabbing your hips and holding you in place as he licked his lips. “It is,” he answered, eyeing your glistening sex before looking up to meet your gaze. “But I’ve decided I really don’t care.”

Without another word, he ducked his head, licking a slow strip up your slit, the tip of his tongue meeting your clit and toying with it. You let out a low moan, head falling back as his tongue explored your core, groaning at the taste.

You whined as he pulled away, his hands moved, spreading your folds before diving back in and attacking your clit with his tongue, suckling on the sensitive nub. Your back met the mattress as you fell back, chest heaving as San continued to lick and suck on your clit, teasing you and drawing whimpers and moans from you.

“S-San,” you moaned as your head fell back. “Keep doing that,” he murmured. “I like the way you say my name.” You gasped as you felt his hand make contact with your clit, giving it a light slap. “Say my name,” he said again.

“San!” You cried out as he gave your cunt another harsh smack. “That’s it,” he murmured before ducking his head again, tongue flicking mercilessly against your clit before spreading your folds again, exposing your hole to him.

His tongue moved down to your entrance, licking into it and making you groan as he pushed further into your cunt. The wet sounds of him eating you out like a man who hadn’t had a meal in years made your cheeks burn with an intensity you weren’t used to. It felt almost as if you had a fever.

‘What is this? Why does he have such an effect on me?’

“Oh shit,” you gasped, one of your hands moving to comb through his dark locks. You felt him smirk against your cunt as he continued to tease and toyed with your clit, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he suckled on the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little more for San. You let out a squeal as you felt his teeth lightly graze the sensitive skin. San’s arms moved around your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck. The flicks against your clit continued to draw you closer and closer to orgasm, your thighs and abdomen twitching as San teased you to the edge.

Before you could cum, he stopped, pulling back much to your chagrin. “Saaan,” you whined, head falling back before looking back down between your thighs as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Put your feet here,” he instructed, patting the arms of the chairs.

You followed his instructions, uncertain of what he was going to do. “I want you to ride my face,” he continued. “Do not stop until you’ve come.” Your cheeks burned as you nodded, watching him lower his mouth to your cunt once more, tongue instantly moving against your clit.

Your head fell back again, a moan escaping your lips as your hips started to move, using the arm rests of the chair for leverage. San kept a firm hold on your skirt, matching your movements with his head. “Shit,” you hissed, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you grinded against his tongue, mewls, whimpers and moans leaving your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groaned as your orgasm rapidy approached before finally crashing over you as your thighs shook, hips continuing to move and ride out your climax until you started shuddering.

San pulled back as your back hit the table top, breathing heavily.

San stood up, moving to undo his top and pulling it back. “Come here,” he growled, pulling you up and into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, groaning into the kiss.

“San,” you moaned against his lips. “I need you.” He pulled back, moving one hand down to undo his pants, pulling at the ties. “You need me? What do you need, kitten. Tell me what you need.”

You laid back on the table, pulling the skirt up to your waist and reaching between your thighs to spread yourself. “I need your cock,” you whined. “Right here. I need it inside me.” San let out a groan, pushing the fabric of his pants down and pulling his hard cock free. You didn’t get the chance to see it from this angle as he quickly stroked himself a few times before lining the tip with your entrance.

“You need it that badly, baby?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I need it so bad. Need you to fill me up. Bury your thick cock inside me and fuck me.” San growled as he grabbed your hip, pushing the head of his cock into your wet hole.

You let out a hiss as San sank further into you, fingers digging into the cloth of his shirt. “Fuck,” you heard him growl. “So fucking tight,” he sighed. He gave you a tentative thrust, groaning as your walls squeezed him, hugging his cock.

You grabbed onto his shirt, pulling yourself up into a sitting position, one hand moving to steady yourself on the table. San gave you another tentative thrust and he quickly set a steady pace, one hand moving down to pull your hips closer so you were almost hanging off the edge of the table.

“Ah! Right there,” you gasped, feeling the head of his cock hit a soft gummy spot deep inside your walls. San gave you a measured, angled thrusts, chuckling when you cried out. “Right there?” he asked as you held onto his shirt tightly.

Each thrust had your ass bumping against the table, the wood creaking beneath you as San pounded into you. You let out a yelp as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck which he immediately sank his teeth into, making you moan as he bit and sucked on the sensitive flesh.

“Keep doing that,” you heard him whisper as your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, keep doing that, kitten.” You pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” you moaned. “Ah, fuck, don’t stop!”

When San was satisfied that your neck was marked sufficiently, you were quick to return the favor, pulling the fabric of his coat aside and leaving bites and marks on his shoulder and part of his chest, enjoying the way he moaned and growled into your skin.

You let out a squeak as he pushed you down, your back hitting the table as he grabbed a nearby knife. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him pick up the utensil but relief flooded your senses as he used the knife to cut the middle of your dress open before tossing it aside.

With the fabric out of the way, his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue flicking against the bud quickly as his hips continued to move, slamming into you with renewed vigor. “Shit, feel so good,” you groaned as his cock dragged against your walls, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein.

“You like how my cock feels, kitten?” He murmured against your chest, leaving a wet trail of kisses from one breast to the other as he took your other nipple in his mouth, tongue lapping at it as his thrusts grew more erratic.

“You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me properly?” you retorted.

Almost as quickly as he’d started, San pulled back, his cock slipping out of your cunt. He quickly set you down on your feet. “Turn around,” he growled, spinning you to face the table before hiking up your skirt and pushing you down onto the wood as he took his cock in his hand, lining back up with your hole and pushing back into you.

As soon as he was back inside, he resumed the same relentless pace, gathering your skirt up and pushing it up to your waist, exposing your back to him. You let out a cry as you felt his hand strike your ass once. When your walls gripped his cock, he knew he was doing something right.

“Of course,” he huffed, sounding slightly amused. He gave your ass another smack, groaning as your cunt tightened around him. “Kitten likes to be punished?” he asked, taking hold of your hips, moving faster, the sound of your skin hitting his filling the room. “Mhm,” you moaned.

“I like being punished,” you answered. San let out a breathless laugh.

“Such a naughty little kitty.”

You felt his hands spread your cheeks and then a cold wet sensation against your asshole.

“What’re you—hng!” you moaned as you felt his thumb slip into your unused hole. “San!” you gasped as he kept his thumb still, his hips still pistoning, driving his cock in and out of you.

You pushed yourself up, peering over your shoulder at him. Your orgasm was close and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer at the rate he was moving. You planted your palms, pushing back to meet his thrusts, moans and mewls leaving your lips with each pound.

San let out a deep moan, removing his thumb and grabbing your skirt with one hand while the other grabbed your shoulder, pushing your chest against the hard wood of the table.

“Be a good kitty,” San growled, hips smacking your ass with each thrust, whimpers leaving your lips with each thrust.

“And stay down for me.”

You were suddenly reminded of how Yunho had pushed you down, ordering you to stay down and your walls clenched, remembering the way his alien cock had felt inside you.

The image had you coming with a moan, your cunt convulsing around San’s cock and string of curses leaving your lips. San had a hard time helping you ride out your high. Your walls constricted around him, hugging his cock tightly as he continued to ram into you.

You gasped, breath coming out in heavy pants.

“S-San,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop, fuck don’t stop!”

You heard him chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab the back of your neck. “If you insist.”

You let out a scream, your hand moving up to cover your mouth as San’s hips somehow moved even faster, slamming into you repeatedly. Each thrust of his hips had you screaming in ecstasy as your cunt convulsed around his cock.

“You gonna cum, kitten?” San asked, chuckling when you nodded, unable to speak.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Be a good little kitty and cum for me.”

His thrusts grew in intensity, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room, barely drowning out your muffled cries.

Your thighs shook from the intensity of your orgasm as you whimpered, trying to keep your voice down but San growled in your ear, hips ramming into yours and pulling scream after scream as you were sent hurtling towards your next orgasm.

“Let everyone hear you,” he rasped.

“Let the whole castle know who’s fucking you this good, sweetheart.”

You could feel his cock throb inside your walls as he no doubt was close as well. “Almost,” he groaned. “Almost there.” Your second orgasm hung just over your head, needing more. Without a word, your hand moved between your thighs, fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts just enough to push you over the edge and coming with another cry, walls gripping his cock like a vice.

The feeling of your cunt constricting around him sent San over the edge.

“Fuck, M’gonna cum,” he said, his voice low as he gave you a couple more thrusts before pulling out of you and finishing himself off, thick spurts of his release painting your bare ass and dripping onto your swollen pussy.

San let out a growl as he rutted his cock against your ass a couple times, holding onto the table for support. “Shit,” he cursed. “Look at this mess.”

You shivered as he ran his thumb over your sensitive core, smearing some of his cum as he slowly pushed some of it into your cunt. “I really wanted to fill your cunt,” he murmured, looking down at your abused pussy.

“But, fuck, you look so pretty like this.”

The clean up was rough and just when you thought San was going to send you back to your room, he produced the key. “I know you’re here for this,” he said, holding it out. “So take it.”

You thanked him, taking the key before pulling him into a kiss. “Your clothes should be in your room,” he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling your lace panties out. “But these,” he continued, pulling back as you tried to grab them.

He tucked them back into his pocket.

“These are staying with me,” he said. “If you want them back, you’ll have to come see me again,” he added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes and thanked him once more for the key before sneaking out of the room and taking the back corridor to your room where your clothes were cleaned and folded nicely on the bed. You changed quickly before sneaking back out and making your way through the garden.

It took you longer than you expected to find the door you’d entered from and soon you were hurrying down the dark corridor, relief flooding your body as the rice paper walls shifted into bookshelves and the door into the lobby came into view.

You grabbed the knob and turned it, opening the door and looking up as you entered the lobby where Seonghwa was standing, half sitting on the edge of the desk, a pocket watch in his hand.

Upon seeing you, his eyes narrowed, the smile he’d greeted you with before no longer present as he shut the lid of the pocket watch. You walked over cautiously, eyeing him with uncertainty. “So,” he said softly, still eyeing you.

“How was your trip back in time?”

[staytinyville]

Greed

For my Cult of Dionysus Secret Santa @thelargefrye I hope you love this as much as I did.

↣ Summary: You grew up thinking there was something wrong with you when you couldn’t step a single foot into a church without getting sick. It wasn’t until you became friends with 8 boys that your worry of being possessed by a demon passed and you realized where it was you actually came from. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: ot8 ATEEZ x Reader 

↣ Genre: smut (mdni)

↣ AU/Trope info: Fallen Angel!au, Religious!au, Inspired heavily by Death of a Bachelor album by Panic! At the Disco (Specifically Hallelujah, Emperor's New Clothes, and Don’t Threaten Me with a Good Time)

↣ Word Count: 9,024

↣ Warnings: Very wrong depictions of the church, small amount of blood, I swear you might think it’s grooming but it’s not because I do in fact explain how everything worked, soulmate type deal almost

↣ A/N: This is the longest imagine I have ever written (that isn’t an entire like chapter type fic). But damn if I didn’t love writing this and creating the story. If some of these conversations didn’t make me giggle. Really got my creative juices flowing with this. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @cultofdionysusnet , @pirateeznet , @wonderlandnet

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You couldn’t remember a time where you didn’t have one of the four boys flocking at your side at all times. You could remember meeting them in grade school–three boys who had chubby cheeks each and eyes that sparkled every time they looked at you. The fourth one came in the following year seeing as he was younger than you all. But still once he made his way into your life things had always been the same. 

You, Yunho, Yeosang, and Mingi were all in the same grade–being in the same kinder class at the age of 5. You stayed quiet that first day of classes, opting to stay where the teacher had assigned you to and listen to every instruction. The table was meant for four kids, and seeing as your class only had so many girls, the teacher had made a move to place at least one girl at each table.

So you were destined to be sat with three other boys who beamed the moment they saw you. They each introduced themselves that day, sharing their school supplies or making sure they were always next to you in the line. You had thought you had made great friends that day, having people to play with rather than just waiting for someone to go up to you. 

It was an eventful year for your little 5 year old brain to really see that over time the other kids seemed to talk behind your back. It was often petty little toddler drama about a girl who didn’t want to be your friend because you were friends with one of the boys they had a crush on. There was one fight that had escalated too far that six children had to be taken into the front office to have a talk. 

Like always you were giggling as Yunho chased after you, Mingi and Yeosang trapping you on the playground to keep you from running away. Yunho had told Mingi and Yeosang to go the other way, wanting to catch you before you got off. But you found another route and ended up on the other side of the playground. 

Just as you were about to jump off the last step of the structure, some girls quickly crowded you causing you to flinch from the sudden invasion of privacy. You froze on the steps, standing above them as you looked down. 

“Excuse me.” You politely told them, trying to move around them. 

They barely moved as you reached the ground, causing you to bump into their shoulders. “You need to stay away from Yeosang! He’s my boyfriend.” One girl called out. 

You turned around confused, frowning at the girl’s words. “He’s my boy friend too.” You tilted your head to the side. “He can have more than one friend.” You explained to her. “He has Yunho and Mingi too.”

“No! He’s only mine.” She continued to yell–she even stomped her foot. 

“Hey, don’t yell at her.” Mingi said, coming up as the three boys finally caught up with you. 

“Yeosang, tell her you're my boyfriend.” The girl pointed her finger at you, causing you to hunch your shoulders back as tears began to form in your eyes from her anger. 

Your lips began to tremble, which Yunho immediately saw. He took your hand then, pulling you into a hug. 

“I can have more than one friend.” Yeosang told the girl. 

“No! You can only have one.” The girl continued. 

“Then I want (Y/N). She lets me have more friends.” Yeosang walked over to where Yunho was hugging you, taking your hand into his. 

“No! You are mine!” With that the girl quickly shoved Yeosang and Yunho off you. 

Her little hands were on your body as she shoved you down onto the floor. You yelped out, feeling the small pebbles digging into your palms as they created wounds. You started to cry loudly, making the girl look at you with wide eyes. 

“(Y/N).” Mingi cried, his own tears forming in his eyes as he saw you hurt. The boy quickly dropped down to you, hugging you closely to him. Yeosang sat down too as Yunho looked around to find a teacher. 

You, the three boys, the girl who had pushed and someone who saw in passing all were sent to the headmasters to talk about what had happened. Your wounds were used as evidence for the girl's shove, even if she tried to argue that you had shoved her too. But all three boys were backing you up and the kid who was there as a witness solidified things. 

That was the day things settled in that you were not going to make many friends who were girls that year. The class already had a few and they all disliked you because you had all the boys wanting to be your friend. 

When you three had entered 1st grade, you had all met Jongho who was a year below. You all had an assembly in the gym when you met the boy first. He had sat next to you and gave you a kind smile, kicking his feet from sitting next to you. When you all would get the chance to play on the playground together he would be seen running with all four of you, keeping up. 

It was also discovered that he lived in the same neighborhood as you all, right next door to Yunho. So when you would have playdates, all of them were invited. It didn’t feel right when one of them wasn’t present. Like there was a part of you missing. 

Jongho had been the first one to ever be missing from some playdate, which led you to realize the problem you had when he was gone. The three boys who had known you for longer than a year were quick to realize when something was wrong with you. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi asked.

“I miss Jongho.” You spoke out loud. 

The three boys all looked at each other, humming in agreement. “We can go see him.” Yunho suggested, coming to a stand from the coloring all four of you were doing. “His parents told me I can go over whenever I want.” The boy added. 

All four of you quickly got up and followed after Yunho. He walked over to the younger boy’s house next door, knocking once he made it past the porch. Jongho’s mother opened the door, greeting all of you. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, clearing her throat as she turned back to Yunho. 

“Can Jongho come out and play with us?” He asked the mother politely. 

“Jongho has to finish homework first and then he can play.” She answered. 

“Can we help him?” You immediately spoke up, not wanting to waste more time without him. “It will go by quicker.” You explained. 

The woman thought for a moment before sighing and allowing you all to walk in. Jongho was in the living room doing his homework at the coffee table. When he saw all of you walking in, he grinned grew and his eyes sparkled. 

“They are here to help you finish. Not play.” His mother told him. “You can do that after finishing.”

“I’ll help you.” You told him, sitting down next to him to where your shoulders touched. 

So you spent a good 15 minutes helping him out with his work, the three other boys watching and helping out where they could. By the time you knew it, all four of you were outside playing tag like normal. However, you still felt like things were missing. 

Because of them, everyone else in your class seemed to avoid you. The girls called you names for always hanging around boys. You tried to do what they did–tried to play their games and ask your parents to dress you up in pretty clothes to fit in–but no matter what you tried to do the others would still alienate you out of games because they knew the boys were always on your side. 

You once tried to get them to stop being your friends in 2nd grade but it seemed to prove difficult. Every time you would distance yourself from them, nightmares would plague your sleep leaving you crying at night. You worried your parents so much they tried to find a solution by taking up a religion they thought would be able to help you all. 

However it was obvious that did not help. Not until Yeosang had gone up to you the day after you tried to get them to leave you alone and asked if you were okay. That was the first night you had not had a nightmare. It was also the day you realized you couldn’t be without them. 

So you grew accustomed to their presence. 

You could remember the first time your parents had forced you to go to church with them. It was the Sunday after you made up with the boys and spent a couple of days without nightmares. You were only 7 when you stepped into the place of worship. 

You remember it like it had just happened the day before. If only because it was the start of a horrendous life that your parents wanted for you. At least a life they forced on you. 

“Hey you go, (Y/N).” Mingi told you, handing you a chalk stick to continue painting along the sidewalk. 

“Thank you, Mingi.” You answered him, bending down to color in your poor drawing of a unicorn. 

“Anything for you.” The boy beamed, giving you a tooth filled smile. 

You blushed, eyes almost closing from how wide you had smiled back. You, along with your four boyfriends as your classmates called them, were all enjoying the Sunday sun drawing on the neighborhood sidewalk. 

Yeosang had been kind enough to bring out his chalks and called upon all of you to spend time together. Yunho had come from down the street with Jongho, while Mingi joined you quickly, seeing as he was your next door neighbor. 

“(Y/N).” You snapped your head up, seeing your parents looking at you coldly from the front porch. 

“We have to go.” Your mother called. Her eyes scanned over the four boys that seemed to crowd you, wanting to share your space. “Now.” She said harshly.

You got up in a hurry, wiping your hands on the grass for a moment so as to not stain your white church dress. “I'll see you guys later.” You gave the boys each a smile, turning around to join your parents in the car. 

The moment you stepped through the large doors of the brightly colored church it felt like your throat closed up. The stained glass that showcased different kinds of stories made shivers go down your back. The pews that were lined with more church goers made you miss a step and almost trip on yourself. 

And the large cross that was placed directly in the middle of a stone table made you feel nauseous. 

“Stop slouching.” Your mother scolded, pushing your shoulders back to straighten you out. 

“I don't like it here.” You whispered, swallowing down the bile that was rising in your throat. 

You flinched and turned behind you as you heard some screeching noise. It made the hairs on your arms stand, leaving you frightful. 

“How can you say that?” Your father shook his head. “This is a house of god. He has done no wrong to you for you to say that. You should be thanking him because we are here to help with your nightmares.”

“My nightmares stopped though.” You told him. 

You began to roll your shoulders, your stomach making weird noises as the cross seemed to get bigger the more you stared at it. You squeezed your eyes shut as the screeching was suddenly heard directly behind you, rocking back and forth to get it to go away. 

The old man you knew to be the father began to speak to the mass, which only made the swirling of your stomach get worse. “I don't know.” You shook your head, hands clutching onto your dress. “It feels really stuffy in here.” You swallowed again. 

And when the father began to recite words from the holy book, things made you go dizzy. 

“I'm going to be sick.” And with that you turned to your mother and let go of all your breakfast into her lap. 

“(Y/N)!” Your mother screeched, standing up and interrupting the sermon. 

And that was the start of your anxiety-inducing journey of attending church every Sunday and throwing up every week. It got to the point where you were terrified of stepping into the church, not wanting to have the acidic taste fill your mouth once again. 

“Why does she get sick so easily, father?” Your mother cried. “And it's only in the church!”

“I cannot explain it.” The man sighed, shaking his head. “But there is something that is tethering her to the other world.” He looked out the window to see you playing in the church yard with your four friends. 

“Something attached to her.” He finished. 

Your parents looked at each other. As they saw you laughing with the young boys, they frowned as they thought about something sinister overtaking your body without anyone knowing. 

“An exorcist?” Your mother whispered. 

“We can try.”

And so you sat patiently a couple times a week for the next few years as the father received things in a language you didn’t understand. A couple of times it would be your church's pastor, other times it would be someone new they would bring in thinking it would change things. At one point you heard your parents talking with the pastor that they had brought someone in from the Vatican. 

However, even then, you sat patiently swinging your legs back and forth as they would repeat the words you had learned by heart at that point. You would repeat it in your head to go to bed, even telling the father of the church that you did that. 

It left him and everyone else baffled at how you seemed to get sick so easily in a church but somehow didn’t react to the exorcism. It seemed that whatever was keeping you from going to a house of worship was not what they had originally thought it to be. 

“Please we've done everything but there is nothing!” Your father had finally started to cry after years of trying to fix your problems. 

“Your daughter doesn't have a demon attached to her.” The pastor explained. “Nothing close to sinister. At least not that we can tell.”

“Then what can it possibly be!?” Your mother was frustrated. 

“God is punishing your child for something she has done.” Was all the father told your parents. 

They kept trying–taking you back every week to see if one day you would magically stop getting sick at the church. You went your entire grade school and middle school life getting sick to your stomach until you left the wooden boards and felt the dirt under your shoes. 

You tried to make your parents stop taking you, but they stuck to their belief that you had something inside of you that needed to be expelled. So you endured it. You cried on Saturday hoping that the next day would be the day everything stopped. The day you were finally free of the sickness that tormented you each time you saw that white building. 

Until one Sunday, things took a turn in a direction you didn’t know if you were allowed to go in.

Puberty had come and gone for each of you, changing everything to prepare yourself for adulthood. You had all taken classes that explained most of what it was–what was the human body and what came with it. You were taught what most people needed to know in order to have a smoother transition into your teenage years. 

However what the classes didn’t teach you was the sickening feeling you got each time you saw one of the boys. It left you feeling icky because of how much you wanted to be with them–how much something called you to them. You had asked your parents about it and they only gave you angry responses. They had told you to stop seeing the boys for a while but when the nightmares returned you couldn’t stay away. 

You had sat down with the boys to ask them about it. And they all seemed to have the same answers. 

“I don’t know. Ever since I started puberty I’ve been having these weird dreams.” Mingi told everyone first. 

“What kind of dreams?” Yunho asked. 

“I think it’s heaven.” You looked at him oddly, tilting your head to the side. You didn’t notice how the other boys all shared the same look. 

“I have those too.” Yeosang spoke up. “We’re all there. With other people too.”

“It seems like you’re looking through someone else’s memories.” Jongho explained. “Yunho?”

The boy had a dazed look on his face, seemingly lost in thought. He quickly looked up at the others, giving them a kind smile. He was the oldest out of all of you, probably the smartest seeing as he always had an answer for everything. 

“You’ll understand when you finish going through puberty.” He told you all. 

“I don’t have those dreams.” You frowned. “They didn’t tell us it was part of puberty.”

“For us it is.” Yunho told you. “You have to wait for yours.”

While you were glad to know you weren’t the only odd one out, you were still left confused at how much Yunho didn’t seem to tell you. And the confusion only reached tenfold after each of the boys began to talk in private or hang out without you. You were upset about those kinds of things but you realized they were boys–you weren’t always going to be there with them. 

The Sunday that changed your life was some random one in your Sophmore year of high school. 

It was the day your new neighbor had moved in. He was a year older than you and the boys–already a junior in high school. You had been walking home from the library with your four boys, pressing yourself to whoever had been walking next to you that day. You had explained to your parents that you had to finish a report before going to church that day.

“Such a pretty girl.” Jongho brushed your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “My love.” He whispered.

“Did you say something, Jongho?” You asked, turning from your conversation with Yunho.

“No.” The boy grinned. “I was talking with Yeosang.” He answered.

“Are you still going to church?” Yeosang asked, coming up next to Yunho who stood to your left. 

You had to lean over to see around the tall boy, smiling grimly at Yeosang. “I have to. You know my parents always make me.”

“Would you like for us to go with you?” Yunho asked, fingers brushing against your own causing yours to twitch. 

Things had started to change between the five of you when you had all entered high school. You began to see each of the boys differently. You watched as they grew out of the chubby cheeks and turned into handsome men. 

Yunho and Mingi grew to be the tallest out of all of you. Jongho began to fill out his body, his baby fat filling the right places as he began to look like a bear. And Yeosang was probably the one who called all the girl’s attention. His birthmark was the one thing that made you recognize the boy anywhere. 

Because of this, you started to question if things were going to be okay. Having a crush was nothing you were new to. However, being in love with all of them made you anxious. It wasn’t normal. Not from what your parents would explain to you. Not from what you read in the book they made you study. It was a sin. 

But how could you say anything when you couldn’t even step foot into a church. 

“No, it's alright.” You smiled at him. “You guys do enough.”

As your house came into view, you all saw a moving truck parked in the road. The house next to yours–the one that wasn’t Mingi’s–had the door open with people moving in and out. 

“You guys have a new neighbor.” Yunho told you and Mingi.

“I guess so.” You spoke up.

You weren’t able to see the subtle look each of them gave each other. They gave small nods of their head before turning back to look at you. “Let's go say hello.” Yunho added. 

And so there you were, standing on the porch waiting for your new neighbor to walk out. And when he did, your lips pressed into a thin line as you took him in. He reminded you of the angels you would read about, the ones you would see depicted in pictures. You didn’t think that was how they truly looked. You couldn’t see them as cherubs that flew around with wings. 

In your eyes all you could think of is black feathers that fell from the sky. A bright light that shined in your eyes from a part of you that was taken away. You couldn’t look at them for too long, being reminded of something that you didn’t want to be. However for some reason, this was one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 

“Hello.” He smiled at you. “I'm Seonghwa.”

“(Y/N).” You shook your head. “These are my friends.” You gestured to the boys standing at the end of the porch, all of them giving nods in greetings. 

Seonghwa gave them a smirk, nodding his head back before turning to look at you. “It's nice to meet you all.” He spoke out loud.  

His eyes trailed down your body, taking note of your nice dress and ruffled socks. “Are you going somewhere?” He asked.

“I have to go to church.” You answered.

“Do you need company?” He immediately asked.

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “I won't be long.” You felt the need to tell him. “Thank you.” You quickly added, minding your manners. 

“Anything for you.” Seonghwa smiled softly. 

You didn’t question the way he spoke to you. You had other worries on your mind as you drove towards the building that had left you with trauma. However this was the day that changed all that you had known about the church.

You had walked calmly behind your parents that day, head dropped to the floor as you prepared yourself for the nauseating feeling that would ultimately burst the moment you passed the doors.  But your shoes scuffed against the floorboards, creaking with each step you took deeper into the building. 

You had reached the pews and the seats your parents normally sat at. You sat down, looking around as you waited for something to start giving you anxiety. You had never made it farther than the music that the choir sang–usually letting go of your breakfast by then. 

And yet, you were there the whole time, listening as a young man played the piano for the choir. You listened to the father you had become acquainted with as he began the sermon, speaking about the god that the people worshiped. You flinched as each new song began to play as the man skimmed his fingers along the keyboard each time. 

And when the final song came to a finish, your family looked at you with wide eyes. Tears began to slip from their face as you had not gotten sick once. Not a single complaint about a bad stomach. Not even a single peep from your lips as you seemed to be in a trance the whole time. What they didn’t catch was the way your eyes were directly at the new boy who played within the choir. 

The father was the first to greet your parents in astonishment as he watched you standing directly in front of him after the hour long service. He couldn’t believe that here you were standing next to him without so much as looking green. Even he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You couldn’t look him in the eyes, choosing to glance around at the church that you had never gotten the chance of admiring. Still though, the glass stained windows with depicted stories left you unsettled–like a bug crawling under your skin. 

“You don’t like them either?” You turned your head, facing a boy who had blue hair. 

He was looking up at the windows, sucking his teeth as he sneered at them. When he turned back to you, your eyebrows rose. You got the same feeling you had when meeting Seonghwa, flashes of falling feathers seeping into your mind. Your mouth opened as you let go of a breath, pressing your lips together as you didn’t know what to say. 

“Oh, this is Hongjoong.” The father introduced the boy to you and your parents. “He’s one of the orphan boys the church took in. They will be under my tutelage.”

You kept your eyes on him, trying to find out what it was that made him so familiar. He reminded you of your friends, like you had known them forever. Like he meant something more to you. 

“An amazing boy with the piano. A protege, honestly! If he hadn’t insisted on wanting to become a father, I would have had him become a performer.” The father laughed. 

Your parents beamed, telling Hongjoong he was an amazing pianist and that his performance was grand to watch. With your parents occupied over talking about your sudden healing, Hongjoong took the liberty of taking you away to the piano, sitting down carefully as he began to lightly press on the keys. 

“You did play beautifully.” You told him. “I had never heard something like that.”

Hongjoong laughed, smiling brightly at you. “It means a lot coming from you.”

Hongjoong began to play another tune, causing you to become dizzy with an emotion you couldn’t explain. While he continued to enjoy his playing, you took the liberty of moving up the little stage at the front and behind the stone table. 

Nothing seemed to cause you any harm. Not until you would catch sight of a mis-depicted angel. You subconsciously would sneer at them, quickly turning your head to avoid further headaches. You could feel the statues mocking you, laughing at your expense. When you reached the cloth covered stone table, you turned, looking out over the empty church. 

Taking in the deep breath you felt something buzzing around the building, malice seeping out of its presence. You frowned, shoulders shaking from the ghostly being. You felt fingers touching you harshly, as though they wanted to hurt you–pulling at your hair, pinching your skin. 

Hongjoong had stopped playing, turning around to face you with wide eyes. But you were too in your own head to notice that something had moved the large cross off its hanger behind you. 

All you heard was your mother’s scream and people rushing forward. You turned around to find what it was they were looking at, only catching sight of the large wooden structure heading towards you. It never touched you though, someone having reached you on time and quickly saving you from a large gash to the head and possible death. 

You flinched a bit, eyes closing shut as you were brought out of your stupor. You turned to find your savior, catching sight of a man with cat-like eyes. He had broad shoulders, ones you were gripping onto to keep from falling over. 

“Are you alright, heaven?” He asked you quietly, his lips a breath away from yours. 

You nodded your head softly, feeling your legs come back to life as you tried to stand on your own. Your fingertips tingle when you feel his own slot themselves between yours, interlocking your hands. He helped you to stand on your own feet, keeping you at arm's length. 

You didn’t notice your family and the father quickly making their way over to you. You didn’t hear them fussing and asking you if you were okay. All you could see was the way the boy’s eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you. 

“Thank you so much, son!” Your father patted him on the back. “You have no idea how terrible that would have been if (Y/N) had been hit.”

Your mother was frowning at the cross, keeping an eye on the wood figure that was on the floor in shards. “You don’t think-” You mother began but was stopped as another boy came up to the statue and quickly began to clean it up. 

The father began to speak to him, causing you to look over at him. They were discussing how the statue had fallen, taking note of the nails that had been embedded into the wall had popped out. The father turned back to your parents, but you kept looking at Hongjoong and the other two boys cleaning up the cross. 

“No,” The father waved your mother’s worry away. “It was faulty screws.” He pointed up to where the cross was. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

You felt sick to your stomach as your eyes zeroed in on the screws. Your lips turned up, hearing someone snicker in your ear. You looked over your shoulder, trying to find the issue. It wasn’t until you heard someone’s sharp intake of breath that you turned around to find the problem. 

“Your hand.” You said, finding the boy who had started cleaning up first cradling his finger that had a bleeding poke from a splinter. 

You leaned down next to him, between the one who had saved you cradling his hand closer to you. He watched as you carefully took out the splinter before moving his finger up to your mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, or how it was you knew to do that. But you slowly licked over his wound, cleaning the small droplet of blood from his palm. 

It wasn’t a lot, maybe a drop or two that seemed to cause a small dribble. As you pulled away from him, you looked up to see all three of the boys staring at you with wide eyes, mouths agape. Your own eyes went wide, quickly letting go of the boy, coming to a stand.

“No!” The boy spoke up, standing next to you. “Don’t be sorry, my love.” He told you, eyes bright as he looked at you. 

“You’re (Y/N). Right?” He continued, holding his hands together at his chest making him look cute. 

“Yes.” You nodded slowly, a bit speechless from his looks. 

“I’m Wooyoung.” The boy smiled. “The man who saved you is San.” He gestured to the broad shoulder boy. “It feels so great to be with you.” He reached a hand out for you, gently cradling it with his. 

You didn’t question any of their words that day. You didn’t think much about their nicknames for you or how they spoke as if they had known you for ages. Any sane person probably would have, but you weren’t normal. At least not until you had finally met all 8 of them. They made you feel whole–like that was a part of you missing this whole time. For once in your life, there was nothing wrong with who you were–what you did. 

At least that was what you thought. Your family thought something else completely. 

When you finished high school, they had tried to take you away from them all. They didn’t like how much they all doted on you. At least not all of them. They didn’t like that you spent so much time with them–alone. They would yell at you, call you names that made you look down in shame. 

You knew all about those people who roamed the streets at night, looking for company. That wasn’t who you were. Wasn’t who you wanted to be. But you couldn’t let go of them. You needed them all there with you or else it wouldn’t feel right. They meant everything to you, just as you meant everything to them.

But still, you chose to appease your parents. You would go to the church–confess your sins to the father who had known you since you were a child. He wouldn’t tell you anything but you knew he would repeat what you said back to your parents. And when you did you would get looks that showed they were disgusted with you. 

First they were terrified of you, worried that something was inside of you that was not meant to be there. Now they were disgusted, and knew exactly what it was that made you sick in church. God knew the kind of person you would become so they punished you for it. Now you had to repent to fix the mistakes you were bound to make. 

You were going for your weekly confession, bringing along the five boys who had always trailed you since high school. The other three were waiting on the other side of the church doors, any moment they would come out to greet the others as they would wait for you to finish and then walk you home. 

“We'll wait out here for you.” Seonghwa spoke to you, leaning down to touch his forehead with yours. 

“I'll be quick.” You told him, giving the other four boys a smile. 

You walked in as you had for the past 20+ years of your life. You took in a breath, knowing that the sick feeling wasn’t going to come up after so long. Your feet shuffled towards the box that you had memorized inside and out. You knew where every splinter was, every scratch, every paint stain. It was something you were once again forced to do–even after so many years. 

You sat down on the bench, closing the door behind you and waiting for the father to get situated. When he did, you leaned back, head bumping into the back rest. 

“Forgive me father for I have sinned.” You spoke monotonously, already knowing how things were going to go. 

“What troubles you my dear?” The voice spoke up, catching your attention as you sat up. 

“Hongjoong?” You questioned, turning to the side where the father would normally sit. 

You could barely make out his dazzling grin, the way his cheeks rose as he smiled at you with glee. You knew how he looked–you always enjoyed looking at all of them. But you were here to confess about him, you couldn’t exactly tell him about it now. 

“Hello, my dear.” Hongjoong smiled.  

“Where’s the father?” You asked. 

“He is allowing me to take his place for the time being. Let me get some practice in–think of me as the father.”

You sat back, sighing as you realized you weren’t going to be able to get out of it. You wanted to get it off your chest–having had it pent up for the last couple of days from when you last confessed. It was always the same thing over and over again. But with Hongjoong now being the one to listen to you, things changed. 

“But that's why I'm here, Hongjoong.” You sighed, dropping your head back. “I have to confess I have not been on the right path.”

“And what path is that?” He asked, sounding professional. 

“One of sin.” You answered. 

“Is that what you think of it?” He spoke up, eyes on you as he kept his head forward. “Why?”

“Because I am not meant to be greedy.” You whispered, turning away from him knowing he was one of the reasons. 

“You think it’s greedy?” You heard him lean forward, chin moving to rest on his hands. “To have feelings?”

You didn’t know how it was he knew, but it seemed like he did. He knew where it was you were going with the whole thing. Of course he did–him and all the others always knew. 

“It’s greedy to love.” You explained to him. 

“It’s how we procreate though.” Hongjoonf shrugged, moving to sit back again. “So why is it?”

“Because I’m not supposed to love 8 men.” You cried. 

He kept trying to get you to say it, and you did. You didn’t know if you were meant to–this wasn’t the normal conversation you would always have with the father. All he knew from all that you would tell him was that you spent too much time with men and it left you bothered. 

Truly it didn’t. It left your family bothered, so you would try to lessen their anger by doing as you were told. But here you were finally confessing the real reason you felt like you weren’t good enough to be a person. Because you had been so traumatized that you began to think what you were feeling wasn’t right. 

“It’s not okay! I am to be the wife of one man only. I have to give him children and continue my family line.” Your voice quieted down, looking down at your hands. 

“And?” Hongjoong only shrugged. 

“I can't love all of them!” You gasped out, coming to a stand but immediately sitting back down knowing there was no space. “That's being greedy.”

“I don't think you should worry about being greedy.” Hongjoong sighed, leaning back nonchalantly. “You are your own person who deserves everything she wants.”

He paused for a moment, making you turn to look at him. You couldn’t see him completely but you knew he was in thought. 

“Do you love us?” He asked you suddenly.  

You felt your breath stop for a moment. Your fingers twitched on your lap, clenching onto the fabric of your skirts. “It's wrong—”

“Do you love us, (Y/N)?” He asked again, stopping you from continuing your rant. 

You had never thought of the word when thinking about the boys. You knew that there was something there that seemed to call to you but you had no idea that it was love. You couldn’t be without them just as they couldn’t be without you. You would get physically sick not being able to spend time with them together. 

There wasn’t a time where you wouldn't think about them. Wouldn’t want them to be at your side to take care of you. You knew they meant so much to you. A lot more than you were willing to understand. It went beyond physical emotions. It was something out of this world. 

“Yes.” You answered quietly. 

Hongjoong paused once more, the silence filling up in your throat as your words lingered in the air. 

“Then come home to us.”

You went home that day. To your parents waiting for you to have dinner with the rest of your family. Watching as they all bowed their heads in prayer, reciting the same words as the ones from the morning at breakfast. Calmly eating with your head down to avoid catching your parents eyes. 

You took slow bites, making sure you didn’t catch too much attention to yourself. You tried to make yourself small, but of course, even if you did, you were still noticeable in the eyes of your parents. 

“Did you go see the father today, (Y/N)?” Your mother started, calmly eating as though she wasn’t about to cause a scene.

“I did.” You answered.

“And those boys?” She continued. 

“What about them?” You didn’t look at her, trying to show that you weren’t really bothered by her question. 

“Did you see them?” She asked again. 

“No.” You swallowed your food. 

You didn’t think your parents were dumb. You knew even if you denied your mother’s question they would know that you had been with the boys. It was the same thing over and over again. As it has always been since you were a little girl. It wasn’t physical abuse but mentally you were exhausted. 

Before bed, you sat on your knees, clasped your hands together and recited the same prayers you had for years. Your parents made you sleep with the door open, they could hear you skip a day of prayer. It was the routine. What you had engraved in your head for years. 

It was easy to fall asleep. Easy to fall prey to a dream that makes you gasp for air. A dream that showed you just the kind of life you used to live. With whom you used to live. 

The walls were too bright, you couldn’t see anything past what was above you, what was next to you–under you. The feathers felt soft under your fingertips, almost like you were on a bed instead of the ground. You could feel their hands softly touching your skin with their fingertips–it made you close your eyes as tears began to pool.

“Don’t cry, my heaven.” Your eyes slowly opened, coming face to face with Seonghwa.

You hummed, a hand moving up to touch his cheek. “Seonghwa.” You whispered, stroking your thumb along his cheek. 

He smiled at you, moving back. His hand drifted down your arm, pulling you to a sitting position. As he sat behind you, pulling your back to his chest, you noticed someone else coming up at your side. They lightly grabbed onto your hand, pulling it up to kiss your knuckles.  

“Jongho.” You breathlessly spoke up, smiling at the man. 

“Yeosang.” You said next, your other hand moving to grab onto the man who walked on your other side. 

“My love.” He whispered. 

“Heaven.” You looked down, giggling as Wooyoung pressed his cheek to one of your thighs. 

Letting go of Jongho and Yeosang, you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. 

“Sannie.” You smiled, watching as the boy pressed his own cheek to your other leg. You did the same as you did to Wooyoung, watching as his eyes closed and he hummed in content. “Sweetheart.” He hummed, giving your knee a kiss. 

You almost hit his cheek as your body tingled from his lips pressing against your skin. You giggled, stroking his skin as he reveled in your touch. 

You felt two more people make their presence known at your sides, touching your shoulders as their heads nuzzled closer to your neck. 

“You made it.” Yunho breathed against your skin. 

“We have been waiting for so long.” Mingi left a small kiss on your neck, leaving you to close your eyes in pleasure. 

“Mingi.” You answered breathlessly, rolling your head to give him more room for kisses. 

Opening your eyes, you turned the other way to smile at the boy at your side. “Yunho.” You smiled, moving to rub a thumb along his cheek. 

You took the moment to look around some, noticing there was one still missing. You knew he was here–you always knew when they were all there. 

“Hongjoong?” You quietly called out, looking in front of you as a silhouette appeared and began to walk closer to you. 

The other’s began to run their fingers along your skin again, applying both light and harsh pressure. All of your skin was on display, nothing hidden to their eyes just as nothing of theirs was. You could feel their skin on yours, feel their warmth radiating onto your very being. It made you dizzy. Made you want to fall into the bed of feathers and lay with them as you were meant to. 

“We are yours to please.” San whispered, rubbing his cheek against your thigh.  

“Yours to do as you wish.” Wooyoung’s hands moved along your other thigh, messaging the skin. 

“We are here as your lovers.” Songhwa whispered in your ear from behind you. 

“You are our one true treasure.” Jongho squeezed the side of your hip.

“We will do all that you ask of us.” Yeosang’s hand came up to brush against your breast.

“The reason we live.” Yunho’s lips brushed against your cheek, nose bumping along your temple. 

“The final piece of our earth defying souls.” Mingi kept his lips pressed to your neck. 

Someone pulled at your chin, making you look up at him. You breathed out your mouth falling open as Hongjoong kept his lips just enough away from yours to make you tremble. 

“Our angel.” He was the first to take your lips.

The others moved out of the way as Hongjoong leaned over you, pushing you back against Seonghwa. His knee placed itself between your legs, causing you to move your hands down to his naked thigh. You let go of him though when more hands started to roam your body once more. 

You felt hands start to play with each of your breasts, fingers lightly skimming over your nipples. Two more pulled your thighs apart, hands slipping between them as they messages your heated skin. A pair began to rub at your hips, pressing his fingers into your soft skin. Separate hands rubbed at your neck, thumbs pressing into your pulse point causing you to feel dizzy from the lack of air. 

Hongjoong leaned back from your lips, watching as your eyes fluttered open. “Tell us what you want.” He whispered. 

He leaned back then, allowing you room to look at them all. Seonghwa’s lips skimmed the shell of your ear. Mingi and Yunho kissed your shoulders. Jongho and Yeosang attached their lips to the side of your breast. San and Wooyoung placed open mouth kisses along the side of your hips. 

“I want all of you.” You breathed out. 

“Then take us.”

And so your head fell back onto Seonghwa’s shoulders, eyes falling shut as you felt all of them attach their lips to your body. They all kiss and suck at their own pleasure, leaving marks on your body that let them know who it was that you belonged to. They all left their own special marks, different shapes and sizes–in different parts of your body. 

You felt them everywhere. Felt them touch you in a way you had never been touched. They showed you things you would never be able to see on your own. They made you feel things you had never felt before. It was euphoric, a feeling you would never be able to get enough of. You needed more–something they gave you. 

You had them all. One by one they took the time to worship you. 

Hongjoong was the first, taking your lips and allowing himself to feel your warm walls around him as he laid on top of you. Seonghwa came next, keeping you sitting on his lap as you bounced with his thrusts. Yunho had you lay on your back, legs held up to rest on his shoulders as he held your thighs. Yeosang had been the most gentle, spooning you from behind as he kept one of your legs up to keep you from getting tired. 

San had you on top, sitting on him as he laid down and used a hand to grope your breasts. Mingi didn’t hold back and held you up against him, groaning and whining in your ear. Wooyoung was a childish one, taking you from behind while he held you against his chest and his fingers lightly pushed into your neck. Jongho was the last one, but he was the longest, taking his time and slowly moving to keep you from burning out after so many orgasms. 

And once you were done, heat leaking with so much cum, you still felt full and complete. Even if you were tired and probably hallucinating from everything but you knew now what you were. What you had been. And you knew the reason you were casted out. It was the very same thing that had stuffed you full one by one. 

You had been greedy in heaven.

It was somewhere in the middle of the night when you had woken up. Fog was settling in outside as the streetlamps illuminated the neighborhood. It reminded you of a horror movie but you knew where the real horrors lied. You felt something had changed in your body. Something that didn’t leave you scared of who you were or what you had. 

You were no demon from hell that had come to create chaos. You were a daughter of god who had chosen to love instead of following orders. You were an angel. The angel who had 8 men waiting for her at their home. 

And so you left in that moment, pajamas still on your body, feet bare as you walked towards the church you grew to hate so much. You could hear the whispers the closer you got, but you only sneered their way. You jaw locked, not wanting to hear another moment of their mindless gossip. 

When you threw the door open, the whispers stopped, everything coming to a harsh silence as you looked down at the aisle and towards the altar.

Hongjoong sat in the middle of the stone table, playing with an hourglass in his hands as he flipped it back and forth. The other seven boys were scattered around, turning their heads the moment they heard you enter. You walked closer, fingers twitching at your side. 

“Why were we casted out?” You asked, taking the steps that led to the small stage. 

“Because our love was seen as greedy.” Hongjoong stood up from the table. “What we do isn’t what others think is right.”

“Father would never think that.” You told him, looking at all the boys who gave you small smiles. 

They grew closer to you, Hongjoong taking your hand and turning you around to sit on the table. They began to surround you as they had in the dream, touching your body. 

“It wasn’t father.” Yunho answered you. “It was our brothers and sisters.”

“They would never understand what we have.” Jongho told you. “Too jealous of the power we had together. 

“But yet, father gave us the chance to find it here–on earth.” Seonghwa smiled, lips brushing against your hair. “We have you here with us now.”

Your lips pressed together as you glanced over all of them. All those feelings you had since you were a child were making sense. The time when the boys went through puberty and were having dreams of heaven. The times when they would hang out without you. You understood where it was they were coming from, but it only left you confused on why you had taken so long to notice where you were in your past life. 

“Why did it take me so long?” You asked. “Why were you all able to find the truth before me?”

They took a moment to look at each other, telepathically coming up with an answer to your question. They already had it but they had to make sure they worded it in a way that you understood. 

“Father had us know the truth before you did because you went through challenges that kept you from learning the truth” Yeosang explained to you. “Your parents prevented you from seeing who you truly were which led to you having inner struggles with yourself.”

“The moment you realized you loved us was the moment you found your past self.” Wooyoung smiled at you, eyes tearing up at the thought of you finally being with them fully. “Your parents were filling your pretty head with nonsense about the church that made you question everything about us and yourself.”

You moved a hand out to wipe at his eyes, making the boy nuzzle into the palm of your hand. 

“We never questioned what we felt for you so we found ourselves quickly.” Mingi began. “We all understood once we finished puberty. It was when we all got our wings back.” Mingi said.

“Wings?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

The boys suddenly grinned, all perking up at the idea of showing you something magnificent. San, Wooyoung, and Yeosang all moved to stand in front of you, hands stretched out not wanting to let you go for a moment. 

The only things in the whole church that had lighting were the candles practically finished burning through and the bright full moon that was on full display behind you, but you could easily see the boys clear as day. They stood a good amount apart, squaring their shoulders and the moonlight that showed through the window behind the pillars. 

A cloud suddenly passed over the moon, blocking out the light for just a moment. But in a quick second the moon flooded its light causing shadows to fall behind the boys. Your eyes went wide and a small gasp fell from your lips as dark shadows of wings displayed themselves on the pews of the church. 

All three boys had different shapes, different places that had holes but you could clearly see them. Just as quickly as they appeared, they quickly disappeared the moment another cloud passed over the moon. You looked up at them, breathless from the stunning sight.

“They’re beautiful.” You whispered.

The three boys smiled at your statement, quickly making their way back over to you. They reached their spots, finding a way to touch you once more. 

“They are nothing compared to what they used to be. But it means so much to hear you say that.” Yeosang softly told you. 

You felt at home. Safe in their arms and caressing touches. You had nothing to worry about now that you knew the truth. Nothing to hide from. And no parents to think about anymore. You were your own person–much more powerful than they could ever be. There was no reason to be scared of them anymore. You were someone who found their heaven. 

“What about heaven?” You asked suddenly, remembering your old home. 

“We don’t need it so long as we are together.” San kissed your knuckles. “You are the last piece of our puzzle.”

“Welcome to our heaven, my love.” Hongjoong kissed you then.

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[teatreeoilll]

|| Blind (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Not me getting inspired by rom-coms to write this.

The wind ruffled your hair while you walked, and the song playing through your headphones was about to reach the best part. You felt your eyes slowly closing to relish in the moment, breathing in the soft cool air. But, in the busy city streets, a moment is too long.

"Oh god, oh no! All your things! I'm so sorry -" Your shoulder still hurting from the hit you took to it, you plummeted down to collect shopping bags the man you bumped into dropped in the collision.

You put the bags gently in his arms, looking up to meet his face. His white hair sticking up from the tension of the blindfold he was wearing. "Oh - oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You fumble, "I - I'll help," you grab the bags back from his arms. Oh god, suits me fine to bump into the only blind man on this street.

"It's fine, really." The man's hands took hold back on the bags. "How can it be fine? Please! I don't think anything's damaged, we'll check later, please. Tell me where you need to go!" You insisted. "I - uh," The confusion on his face was obvious. In your mind the racing thoughts, the bitch who hurt a blind man and wouldn't even help him? How could you live with that?

You took his side and grabbed his forearm lightly. "Listen, I'm really fine -" He tries to protest. This is no time for niceties, he may be too proud to receive your help, but you'll give it either way. "Oh god, Is your arm hurt too?" You mumble, remembering your own aching limb, "Do you want to get it checked out? The hospital's not far, I swear!" The man chuckles for a moment, the smirk staying permanently on his face.

"It's fine, really. I was just going to the shop down the road, they have the best Mochi there." He announces. "Oh, I know the place!" You chime, holding both his shopping bags and arm hostage to drag him down the street. You try to walk slower at first, but he seems to have no problem adjusting to your pace.

Once you've reached the shop, you tugged softly on his sleeve to signal him to turn, propping your arm up for him to lean on while stepping over the stairs leading to the establishment, then quickly holding the door open for him. "I'll treat you, please!" You pull out a chair for him to sit on, "What do you like?" “I like girls who grab me by the hand, just to take me to my favorite place,” He laughs, his pale hands reaching to his blindfold, dragging it down until it rests on his neck.

Through his white lashes, a pair of bright blue eyes stare directly at yours, his face far more handsome than you'd expected. You put the bags down on the empty seat, a sigh escaping your lips, your hands reaching to cover your sheepish face. "So, you're not, uh -" You mumble through the uneasy feeling taking over your body.

"Blind?" He grins, "No, I'm not blind."

"You could have said something earlier," you complain.

"I tried, you wouldn't let me. You still dropped all my things you know - so how about that treat now?"

You found yourself with no choice but to agree, you sighed while standing at the register, probing through your bag for your wallet.

Just as you've received your order, three teens in similar uniforms had surrounded the man's table.

"Gojo-Sensei, are you okay? Is this your girlfriend- no, that's not possible," The girl exclaimed.

"What are you talking about, Kugisaki? That so-could-be possible!" A pink-haired boy retaliated.