#tinged with lost souls

[chapinii]

q!bagi and q!tubbo are so happy to be home, but they can't shake the eerie silence that hangs around them like dust in the air and settles as a deep unease in their stomachs, as remnants and echoes of the residents who may not have made it back linger all around them.

[endawn]

REFER HERE . act 3 conclusion to his 'personal' quest. sort of. bal reclaiming the rite would involve ascending pax. thereby making PAX a vampire ascendant instead of caz or astar..ion. which, would only deepen mol..ag’s hold on him and bring his body all that closer to becoming a vessel / conduit for bal to cross over into the mortal plane with. not only is the tadcrew saving pax and all those spawn, but the world from another being bent on death and domination. before the crew sets out to deal with caz, there will be a little camp event involving pax where he’ll mention feeling strange but believes it to be the lingering necrotic energy he absorbed while in the shadowlands ( this will be important later ) compounded by being a tad overwhelmed by the hustle & bustle of the city as he has not been in one for some number of years. he can be questioned further and if a perception check is passed, the pc can notice he’s nervous about something. if persuaded, he’ll admit the events at the mausoleum are weighing on his mind. yet, he’ll seem hopeful it is not possible outside of the shadowlands despite the absorption of necrotic energy. if asked if he’s still fit to fight, he’ll assure them he is and it’s really nothing to concern themselves over. if, however, the pc tells him to sit this one out and rest, he’ll agree and say it might be for the best.

if he is brought along, after defeating caz, pax will cry out and fall to the ground as he holds his head. mo..lag wields a form of mind magic: he intrudes upon the minds of mortals as a form of torture. it is an invasive, agonizing experience. by forcing his way into a mortal's mind, he can show them horrific visions. he does this in an attempt to make pax more susceptible to possession; break his will. this together with using his influence over necrotic energies, bal is able to take over the knight's body. if going with the left at camp choice, pax will show up right after defeating caz but not before the crew can pull him out of his coffin. the dawning realization something is wrong with him; his eyes. the light in them is void. there will be little time to react before pax starts attacking the party. a voice not quite his own begins thanking them for returning his rite to him. they will remember it as mol..ag’s when he possessed pax at the thorm mausoleum. the tadcrew can either try to kill pax, knock him out or try to survive 9 turns against him like with hal..sin’s portal.

note: he has the standard vampire powers of being rather resistant to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage and is unaffected or barely harmed by necrotic magics, resistant to cold and lightning, and completely unaffected by psionics and paralysis. in addition to this, they'd have to overcome his regeneration by using holy water, any spells that produce sunlight or deals radiant damage. creating water and having it act as running water would deal acid damage and debuff him slightly. though, he is more resistant to sunlight than standard vampires. he'd be able to manipulate / pull the blood out of an opponent from a distance sparingly, try to dominate them with his gaze, slam, punch, rend, bite, teleport in mist or as a swarm of bats, turn invisible, thrall person or use his skills as an eldritch knight [ gestures vaguely]. action surge, eldritch strike, weapon bond, war magic, shatter, scorching ray, shocking grasp, thunder wave, magic missile, misty step, shield, booming blade ( need to look into him game wise ).

during the entire fight, pax will be trying to resist mol..ag and regain control of his body. he'll occasionally receive a dazed condition and won't attack or will miss them. apologies can be heard as he strains to speak to the party; apologizing for attacking them. he does not wish to hurt them, he's trying to fight. resist. mol..ag will retort by calling him weak or a worm. as pax is addressing his friends, he'll also invoke a divine each round starting with sten..darr preserve me. if the party is able to survive the 9 rounds, it ends with pax invoking akat..osh and then addressing them all by going divines ! purge this foul darkness ! but not before asking his friends for forgiveness ( or directly going forgive me, cor meum. my heart, forgive me. if romanced ). his body is lifted into the air and erupts in a blinding, all consuming light. as quickly as it came, the light will recede and he’ll drop to the floor while smoke wafts from skin. charred and burned , but otherwise seems to be whole. an outcome he did not expect. he believed he would perish when he invoked the divine spirits. leave naught but ash , purging all of mol..ag corrupting presence.

when approaching his body , they can attempt to shake him awake. it will not garner a response. the pc can then decide to do nothing or cut their palm to allow a few drops of blood to fall into his mouth. doing so stirs him to a semiconscious state and heals a few wounds present on his body. propping him up and offering him a wrist to bite will be met with meek reluctance. if they insist, he’ll bite only briefly and abstains further as he does not trust himself not to take too much in his current state. he’ll use what strength it game him to assist them. otherwise, the party has to deal with caz in his coffin by themselves. during the fight with pax, caz was able to recover some of his health but will be much easier to defeat. IF they wake pax up via blood, despite his still injured state and experience with mol..ag, he'll use his vampire lord form to help end caza..dor one final time. collapsing from exhaustion not long after the battle ends and will not wake again until a day has passed. the tadcrew will have to carry his body out of the palace either way. when he wakes, pax thanks them for helping him and laments on his inability to resist. if questioned on the possibility of mol..ag returning, pax will admit he will but not for a long while. for once, he feels....unburdened. that not all is entirely lost, perhaps. maybe there is some hope for him? at least it was a small consolation his gods answered his pleas. while they could not remove the taint entirely, they were able to temporarily banish bal when his power waned from the strain controlling pax placed on his reach & influence in fae..run. if asked about mol..ag reclaiming the rite, an answer will not be given. he is uncertain. regardless, he'll be notably....happier, but attention quickly turns to defeating the elder brain.

ANOTHER THING TO NOTE: if they manage to kill pax, that’s that. he’s permanently removed as a party member. his body turns to ash. mol..ag will not appear in camp to offer pax’s resurrection for a price. withers will be unable to resurrect him. if they defeat ( KO ) but don’t kill, mol..ag will be unable to maintain his possession of pax. he will be too weak to extend his reach pass the watch of the faerunian gods. the prince will slink back to his domain.

[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus�� like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[candy69gurl]

can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?

THE HOWL OF DESIRE

Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating

wc - 2.6k

ART NOT MINE !

As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.

Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.

A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.

His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.

"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."

As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."

His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.

"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".

With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.

"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"

"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."

Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.

Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."

You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.

As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."

His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"

"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.

Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.

With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.

As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.

The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.

Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.

Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"

Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.

"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.

"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.

At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. "Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.

"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.

Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.

"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.

Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.

"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.

Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."

With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.

"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"

"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"

Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.

Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.

"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.

Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.

His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.

In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.

As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.

Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."

He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"

"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.

Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.

"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.

You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.

"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."

"P-please can't no more", you plead.

Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."

You cry out, feeling him entering you again.

Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.

Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.

"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.

"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.

"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.

Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"

You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently

"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."

Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."

He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.

"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."

His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.

"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.

Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.

"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."

With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.

Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"

He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.

You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.

"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."

You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.

"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."

"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."

Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"

Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.

He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.

He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."

[thebarontheabyss]

This tale starts with your death.

Read WIP here

(Current wordcount: 240k!)

You remember only the moth, carrying you through the cosmos.

And so, the Abyss beckons you.

Now, you are a spirit, immortal. After a meeting with the Grim Reaper, Death, you were gifted with a peculiar inheritance: a bar.

This mysterious establishment and the Abyss around it serve as a nexus, connected to every realm in existence. It's a haven where spirits and deities, devils and angels, converge to drink and revel.

Yet, beneath the surface, an unease stirs. A voice calls out in your dreams—a loneliness that echoes through the Abyss. Why does it seek you?

A motley crew of spirits and immortals, each hailing from distant corners of the realms, stands with you. Bonds are waiting to be formed, or even love that transcends death itself—perhaps even with Death themself.

Manage your bar, where serving a drink to a god or an eldritch entity is just another day's work. Unravel a cosmic mystery, go on a date in infernal Hell, witness the universe's creation, or unlock the arcane secrets of magic.

Your new afterlife awaits.

A narrative-driven experience focused on character development and storytelling.

Play as any gender or none.

Shape your personality through meaningful choices.

Engage in deep and complex relationships with a diverse cast of characters.

Romance mortals and immortals alike - if you want poly, purely physical, or asexual - they will respond in kind.

Explore the afterlife, visit realms of immortals and gods, and uncover the dark secrets of the bar.

M\F\NB (Poly or Monogamous paths) Death reveals a surprising warmth beneath their eternal duty.

Is there room for love within their everlasting embrace? Read more >>>

M\F (Poly or Monogamous paths) This devilish being, a powerful magnet of desire, seeks more than power in the bar’s shadows.

Who dares to pursue the heart behind the flame?

Read more >>>

M\F (Poly or Monogamous paths) The Witch, with their feline companion, seeks a lost soul, their magic stirring trouble and passion alike.

Can a mortal love thrive in the spirit realm?

Read more >>>

M (Monogamous path)

A mercenary turned security guard, Hastur carries an immortal burden, guilt born of past battles and sacrifices.

Will your love heal his wounds?

Read more >>>

NB (Monogamous path) The spectral diva enchants with their voice, their performance a dance of beauty tinged with the sorrow of eternal life.

Can your love find a new song for them?

Read more >>>

M\F\NB (Monogamous path) A shade keeps the bar’s order, and his silence holds the weight of cosmic secrets and the tapestry of existence.

Will your heart fall for the being behind the shadow?

Read more >>>

With feathers dark and wit sharp, The Raven’s history is as rich as the bar itself. He offers piercing insight beneath a layer of humor.

Read more >>>

The stern soothsayer-turned-accountant Yaga guards the bar’s fortune while wrestling with her own spectral regrets and wisdom.

Read more >>>

Shelly, the bar’s assistant, brings life-affirming warmth but seeks a new family to fill the void of her lost one.

Read more >>>

Welcome to the cosmos: the tapestry of existence, a complex weave of ever-changing realms. Each domain is a thread in the grand design.

Read more >>>

Feedback on any typos, grammatical errors, or other textual issues.

Notes on any continuity errors to ensure a smooth and logical progression.

Thoughts and opinions on the plot, characters, and overall narrative experience.

Don't be shy about sending your feedback - as small as it may be. I'll be answering and taking each into consideration. You are very welcome to post your reviews here!

The game explores themes of Death in various forms, including suicide.

Alcohol indulgence and its various side effects (hangovers, vomiting, etc.)

Sexual themes (currently only non-explicit)

[santaasi]

iris

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj maybank struggled all his life just to finally find home in your arms

warnings: fluff, slight angst at the start, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: bringing myself comfort after the spoilers for the final of s4. my baby boy deserved a lot more.

ᯓ★ now playing…

goo goo dolls - iris

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

IT WAS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT — something so profound that JJ couldn't begin to describe it in words. Yet, he felt it in every cell of his body, in the deepest, most secret corners of his soul. It was as if he was staring into the vastness of the universe, into the boundless, all-consuming darkness that had terrified him since childhood. But now... now it glowed with a hundred, a million, a billion tiny stars — simple, yet magnificent clusters of light that transformed everything in an instant. You became his universe, his everything, and in that moment, everything changed.

JJ would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the exact moment — the exact second — he first met you. He remembered it vividly, like it was etched into his very bones, because that moment was his Big Bang. It was the spark that created the whole universe from nothing, with you as its center, pulling him into an orbit he never thought he’d find.

It was an ordinary day — at least, by JJ’s standards. A typical day filled with drinking, weed, hanging out with Pogues, and the all-too-familiar beatings from his father. After the last one, all he craved was solitude — just to be alone, to fade into the nothingness. To disappear. To stop feeling the weight of pain, to stop wondering what he had done wrong, to stop seeing the pity in his friends’ eyes whenever he showed up at the Chateau, bruised and broken.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could stop being JJ Maybank — the lost, troubled boy everyone knew — and just be... himself. If only he knew who that was anymore.

It was night — a surprisingly cold summer night. The air carried a chill that seemed at odds with the warmth of the season, but even so, JJ found his haven between the soothing waves. The ocean cradled him gently, rocking him like a child in a mother’s arms, as if the water itself was trying to heal him. He lay on his stomach, his face dipping under the surface, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the sea, trying to drown out the swarm of thoughts buzzing endlessly in his mind.

How long had he been lying there? He couldn’t say. Time had blurred into the rhythm of the waves, and for a moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t expect the next moment to be so... startling.

You stopped just a few meters away, your breath coming in quick, heavy gasps. Your hair clung to your face, and the water began to bite at your skin with its coldness. And yet, in that brief flash of moonlight, JJ swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you — divine, even. The glow of the moon reflected off the water, casting a silver sheen over you, making everything seem surreal. Your slightly parted lips, your wide eyes, all caught in the stillness of the night, made something inside him twist. At that moment, he realized something, something terrifying: he was a goner.

"What the hell?"

The words slipped out in unison, an awkward moment of shared surprise. You raised an eyebrow, the frustration and relief mixing in your gaze before you splashed water in his face.

"Are you asking me what the hell?" you said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You were literally floating face down! I thought you were dead!"

JJ blinked, caught off guard, and shook his head, sending droplets flying in every direction. He didn’t respond immediately — his mind was still trying to catch up. He just stared at you, the way the moonlight danced on your skin, how the cold seemed to wash away everything else. There was something about you that both unsettled and comforted him, a mix he couldn’t quite place.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t, like, dead. I mean, not really." His voice was hoarse, raw with something he hadn’t let anyone hear in a long time. It barely masked the emptiness he’d been drowning in just moments ago. "Just needed a swim. Didn’t mean to scare you."

You crossed your arms under the water, rolling your eyes, but a soft smile played at the edges of your lips. "Just an ordinary midnight swim, huh?" you teased. But there was a knowing look in your eyes, like you could see through the mask. "I thought I was going to have to explain to the police tomorrow that some guy was found swimming in the ocean. ‘Local girl finds body in the water,’ you know? Not exactly the first week I imagined."

JJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Wait... you’re new here?"

You nodded, brushing your wet hair from your face, a small sigh escaping you as you did. "Yeah, I moved here a few days ago. Needed to start fresh, I guess." Your gaze shifted toward the shore, distant, but not quite lost. "Thought the ocean might help clear my head."

He could relate to that, more than he wanted to admit. He nodded without thinking, something about you felt... different. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice almost vulnerable. "Outer Banks isn’t paradise, but... it could be worse." The words slipped out before he could stop them, softer than he wanted, like a door that had been closed for too long suddenly creaking open. He hadn’t expected to share anything, but with you, it didn’t feel like sharing — it felt more like breathing.

The wind picked up, sending a chill over the water. You shivered slightly, pulling your arms tighter around yourself. JJ noticed, instinctively stepping closer, despite still standing in the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. "Cold night for a swim."

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him — he, too, had come to the water to escape, to disappear. But with you standing there, he didn’t feel quite as invisible. And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

You shrugged, looking toward the shore, but your eyes softened. "Yeah, just... a tough day, I guess. I thought the water might help me forget for a little while."

A bitter laugh slipped from JJ’s lips, and he didn’t try to hide it. "Well, looks like you found the right company for that," he said, his words more raw than he’d intended. But somehow, it felt natural to talk like this, to say things he hadn’t said to anyone in a long time. With you, it didn’t feel so forced.

You turned toward him, your expression softening. There was understanding in your eyes — like you’d been there too. "Tough day too, huh?" you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the stillness of the night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ocean around you a calm, sacred space. In that silence, something passed between you — unspoken, but real. As if for that moment, you both shared something intangible, something neither of you could put into words.

Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice teasing but gentle. "So... are you always this mysterious, or did I just pick the perfect time to meet you?"

A laugh escaped him, more genuine than he expected. "Maybe a little of both." He let the silence stretch on, comfortable now. For the first time in ages, he felt seen, and it wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be.

It was ridiculous, he thought — how could a complete stranger, someone he��d just met in the middle of the ocean, at some ungodly hour, feel like they were filling a space inside him he never knew was empty?

But when he looked at you, he felt something shift, something deep inside. Something real. Something alive.

"JJ," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. The sound of his own name felt unfamiliar, like a piece of himself he hadn’t shared in too long.

You gave him a soft smile that reached your eyes, warm and knowing. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

AND THERE IT WAS — his universe had changed. The Big Bang.

After that night, JJ couldn’t think about anything but you. Your presence consumed him, yet in a way that felt like coming alive for the first time. He found himself drifting into your orbit, again and again, as if fate itself had been guiding him toward you all along. But while he believed in fate, you thought it was just chance.

It wasn’t long before JJ began to learn more about you, obsessing over every little detail. He learned that you loved spending your free time on the beach, reading books. Books that he had never bothered with before, but now he listened to them at double speed just to be able to talk to you about them. You had a habit of finding solace in the water, the way the waves seemed to ease the weight of the world from your shoulders. And he learned that you worked in a small diner on the Cut, a place that barely registered on anyone else’s radar but was now a part of his daily life.

It became his mission to visit those places. To catch your eye, exchange a few words. He even went to some Save the Turtles event with Kie — something he’d never have attended before — just to see you, just to find a reason to talk.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to you. Why waking up felt a little easier when he thought about you. Why his days felt less suffocating when he could see you by the ocean, or feel your warmth when you wrapped him up in your arms. And most importantly — why, in a world where he wanted to stay invisible, he wanted you to see him. Because no one, not even the closest people in his life, had ever truly understood him like you did.

It might have sounded corny, but JJ knew you were different. He didn’t want to undress you or get you into bed first, like he did with other girls. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know you. He wanted to be near you — not in a rushed, desperate way, but slowly, patiently, like the world had all the time for them. And that terrified him. Because everything in his life felt like it was bound to break, and he was scared of getting too close, only to watch it all fall apart.

But you made him feel like he was floating, like he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And even if it didn’t last forever, he would take it. It was worth it.

Because at some moment you became his safe place. His home.

JJ DIDN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT HE FIRST CAME TO YOUR HOUSE, or why he couldn’t go back to the Chateau after the latest fight with his father. He just knew that he had found his way to you. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It was as if the universe had decided that, for once, he deserved peace. So, he climbed up to your balcony, hiding from the world, just to see you.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of everything lift from his chest. You didn't need to ask questions, you didn’t need explanations. You just held him — no judgment, no demands. Just there. Your hands gently cupped his face, and in that simple gesture, everything felt easier. It was like you knew exactly how much he needed to be held together. The comfort in your touch was so raw, so real, that it felt like he could stay there forever and nothing would ever hurt him again.

"Hey, JJ," you whispered softly as you cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. "You're okay. It's just another day. We'll get through it."

Your words were soft, but they carried a weight. The kind of weight that made him feel like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t carrying all the burden on his own.

"Yeah, we will," he whispered looking in your eyes finding solace in it. "How'd your day go?" he asked quietly, almost as an afterthought, as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, the usual. Serving coffee, cleaning tables... Same old stuff. But then again, it’s a good distraction.”

And JJ realized, right then, that this wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the mess of his life. It was about the way you understood him without needing to understand everything. You were healing him, piece by piece, without even knowing it.

You were there, not because you had to be, but because you wanted to be. And when you laid him down in your bed, curling up beside him, you whispered about your day at work, your own small struggles. You shared your world with him, and somehow, it made his feel a little less heavy.

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE JJ OPENED UP TO YOU, really opened up in a way he had never done before. It was a slow burn at first. He kept his distance, guarding you from the mess that was his life. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that you were the one who saw him. All of him — the messed-up, broken parts that he tried so hard to hide from everyone else. And when he realized you weren’t scared of that, he finally let go.

"I used to think that if I told you about my life, you'd leave," he admitted one night, his voice thick with raw emotion. "But... you didn’t. You stayed."

You looked at him, your expression tender, your hands tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere, JJ. Not unless you want me to."

And that was the moment he knew — he had found someone who understood him in a way no one ever had. No one ever would.

One night, after sharing stories and secrets until the stars outside had started to fade, you both found yourselves standing close, the air thick with unspoken words. There was a nervousness between you, but also a tenderness that neither of you had known before. JJ leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with the kind of understanding that only comes when two people truly see each other. His lips were warm against yours, the moment suspended in time. And as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. The truth was already in your eyes, in the way you pulled him closer, your hands tracing the lines of his back like you were memorizing him. He didn’t need forever. He didn’t need promises. He just needed this. You. Now. And that was enough.

THE EVENING WAS SETTLING INTO ITS QUIET RYTHM AT THE CHATEAU. The Pogues were scattered around, some laughing, some lost in their own thoughts, and some just lounging by the bonfire. The air smelled faintly of saltwater and smoke, the crackling warmth from the fire barely reaching the edge of the pier. The world felt suspended in a beautiful hush, as though the universe itself had exhaled, and for the briefest of moments, everything stood still.

But despite the presence of his friends, despite the fire, the laughter, and the constant noise that filled every corner of the Chateau, JJ was focused only on you. Your presence was like gravity, pulling him closer to something real, something tangible. You were his escape, his universe — shaped not by chaos and pain, but by a quiet peace he had never known until you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your voice was gentle, threading through the sea breeze that fluttered your hair, causing it to stray in wisps across your face. You frowned slightly as the breeze brushed against your skin, the hair teasing at your cheek in an almost playful, yet annoying way. He loved how you could get lost in these little moments, how even the simplest things seemed to pull you in.

JJ, ever the thinker, gazed out at the vast ocean, where the horizon was a delicate line between the fading light of the day and the endless mystery of the night. There was something about the sea — so unpredictable, so endless — that made him feel both small and infinite. It was like he could feel the weight of the universe pressing on his chest, but at the same time, it gave him a sense of freedom, of release.

He shook his head, not really having the words to explain the depth of his thoughts, of how you had become his entire universe in such a short time. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise, like a quiet vow he was ready to keep forever.

"I love you," he said simply, the words falling so easily from his lips it startled him. It was like his heart had always known the truth, but now, with you, it could finally speak it. He turned to face you, his hands gently cupping your face, and pushed a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hair had tangled slightly in the breeze, and his fingers brushed against the soft strands as if trying to keep you grounded in this moment.

You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with affection, and for a brief second, JJ wondered if he had been imagining all of this — the way your touch made him feel alive, how your laugh filled him with a joy that felt as though he was living in a dream. He had never been one to express his feelings out loud, never been able to put his heart on the line like that. But with you, everything felt different. Everything felt right.

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but JJ felt the weight of them — felt how real they were, how they shifted the space between you, making it smaller, warmer, more intimate. It was like the universe had shifted in that moment, like the stars aligned just for the two of you.

But you, ever the one to keep things light, laughed softly, breaking the moment in the most perfect way. Your laugh rang out like music, a melody he couldn’t get enough of. "But everyone knows that, stupid! It’s no secret that you’re head over heels in love with me," you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as if trying to bring him back down from whatever cosmic place his mind had drifted to.

JJ chuckled, the sound deep and sincere. There was no pretense, no walls. Just the two of you, surrounded by the night and the ocean, and for the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. His smile was soft but real, and he kissed you once, gently, on the tip of your nose, then moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, each kiss like a reassurance that this moment, this feeling, was real.

"You don't get it, do you?" JJ murmured, his voice a little more serious than the moment required. He let the silence stretch between you before continuing. "It’s not just... about love, doll. It’s about everything. It’s the way you make me see the world in a way I never thought I would. The way you make me feel like... like I’m enough." His voice softened with a vulnerability he hadn’t known he could express. "Before you, everything was just a blur. I didn’t even know how to be, to feel. But with you? It’s different. You make me real, love."

You looked at him, your gaze tender, understanding. Your eyes softened, and without a word, you reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug. JJ rested his head against your shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. It was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, JJ felt truly alive.

He had spent so many years running from everything that hurt him, pushing away anything that could cause him pain. But in that moment, wrapped in your embrace, the fear was gone. There was nothing left but the two of you, standing on the edge of the world, with the ocean stretching out before you like an endless promise.

"I never thought I’d say it," he whispered, his words coming out in a quiet rush. "But you’re my Big Bang. The thing that changed everything for me. Before you, it felt like I was drifting through the void, like there was nothing in this world worth holding on to. But now..." He pulled away slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. "Now, you’re my everything. You gave me a reason to stay."

Your fingers lightly brushed against his cheek, the touch so gentle it felt like a feather. You looked at him, eyes searching his face, and you smiled softly. "You don't have to be alone anymore, JJ. You’ve never been alone." Your voice was quiet, but the sincerity behind it struck him like a bolt of lightning. "We're in this together."

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that felt almost foreign but so freeing. The way you made him feel — like he was seen, understood, held — it was beyond anything he could have imagined. You were the gravity in his universe, pulling him in, holding him steady. And no matter how far out he drifted, he always knew he'd find his way back to you.

"You make me feel like the world is full of stars," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Like everything that’s ever happened to me — good or bad — led me to you. Like I was just waiting for you to come and show me what it’s like to be."

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, don't get too carried away, Maybank. I’m not that amazing."

JJ smiled, but there was something raw in his expression, something that hinted at all the things he could never quite put into words. "You are," he said softly. "You are my everything. And for once, I’m not afraid to let myself feel it."

The world stretched out before you, both of you standing at the precipice of something so beautiful, so uncertain, yet so undeniable. The stars above shimmered like tiny promises, like constellations forming their own quiet narrative about two souls finding each other in the vast, infinite expanse of the universe. And in that moment, the ocean, the stars, the wind, and the night itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.

"I love you. So much," JJ whispered again, his voice filled with the certainty that had settled deep within him. It was simple, but it was everything. The words echoed, not just through the air, but through his heart, through his bones, reverberating in a way he never thought was possible. And as the night embraced them both, they realized that they had found their place in the world. Together.

And for the first time, JJ Maybank wasn’t afraid to be seen. Because you saw him. And that was enough

thankx for reading <3

so, that’s it. jj maybank deserved the whole world but only got this shitty ending. am i gonna watch obx4 now? probably not. am i gonna write for jj like there’s no s4? definitely yes! i think we’ll all agree that obx ended on s3 and after that nothing happened.

but every time i see the posts about jj i feel so sad… like it literally hurts on some level because he deserved his happy ending more than anyone. even if rudy wanted to leave the show they could have written a good ending for him. not one more fucked up father, but one that would take him to see the world or shit like this. i just wanted him to be happy.

i chose iris because this is so jj coded for me. i haven’t listened to this song in ages and when it popped up in my shuffle yesterday – i just wanted it to be about jj. with all his struggles, all his pain, but also with a hope for something good. so, i rly hope that you liked this work.

and again thank u for reading. thank u for liking, reblogging and commenting - it’s rly means a lot to me. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[yanderestarangel]

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[aoioozora]

Brown Eyes

Simon had always been conscious of how boring his eyes seemed. They were just brown, plain ol' boring brown and he hated it. He didn't have Johnny's sparkling bright sky blue or Price's ocean blue. His was just plain, boring, brown, the color of dirt.

Not until you came along, you sweet little thing.

"You have pretty eyes," you told him when you first met him. He was shocked.

"Uh, thanks," he could only muster without appearing affected by the compliment.

But whenever you'd speak to him, he'd notice you peering into his eyes with no thought behind your own. You were so distracted by figuring out the shade of brown that his eyes were that you'd not hear a thing he said. Simon was glad that his blushing cheeks were masked.

You were fascinated by his eyes. In the shade they were inky black, an abyss and you found it befitting his mysterious persona. But one day when you were in his office, a ray of evening light slipped in through the cracks of his blinds, settling gently over his eyes. His melanin-rich irises didn't seem bothered by the light in the slightest, and again, you stared.

The brightened abyss was a rich, chocolatey brown, light enough to reveal his normally obscured pupils. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, the golden threads of silk delicately shimmering.

"Are you listening to me?"

You snapped out of your daze. "Sir?"

Those same gentle eyes stared back at you; his voice hinted mild annoyance but his eyes reflected an unusual softness, like he wasn't willing to reprimand you.

"Why aren't you paying attention?" he demanded anyway, crossing his burly arms over his chest as he sat back.

You pursed your lips. "I got lost in your eyes, Lieutenant," you admitted with a sheepish, lopsided grin.

He let out a grunt, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks again. He was not going to admit that he was affected by those same words you told him when you first met him and you continued to tell him by always wordlessly staring at him.

He could not lie that he liked your attention; that your relentless gazing was the key wriggling and turning in the lock that kept his heart caged away.

"Why d'you like them so much?" he leaned forward.

You could not help being honest. "They're beautiful," you answered, your voice heavy with genuineness, "They remind me of chocolate, and coffee, and unfrosted cakes." You paused, but he waited.

"Like dense forests, the color of wood," you explained, "Like soil..."

His brows furrowed. Soil that is stepped on. His insecurity filled in.

"Like soil that is the foundation of both massive trees and for the little saplings," you continued, "your eyes are the color of something so important."

The tinge of animosity in his eyes softened.

"You know, in the shade, your eyes are dark and it really suits how mysterious you can be sometimes," you said with a gentle smile, feeling a little embarrassed at this point, "but when in the light," you lifted your eyes to meet his, "I can almost see the gentleness and care that is normally hidden."

He could almost hear the click of a key turning and a lock opening. He knew that the eyes were the window to the soul, but never had he seen such an unprecedented act in action, and him being the victim of such sweet an analysis.

So this was the outcome of all your relentless gazing: to figure him out, to make sense of him, to understand him, to appreciate him.

And for that, his heart was now yours.

[masterlist]

[tarjapearce]

Heathens (Pt. 1)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun!Reader

art by @maxro_art on IG (Her Deliverance AU is ❤️❤️🤌🏻)

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. If you're sensitive regarding religion, please don't read this. Masturbation in holy places, explicit language, wet dreams, Female anatomy, oral ( F receiving) Gentle Dom Miguel, Corruption kink, overused tropes cause yeah, a tinge of yandere undertones if you squint, mutual lust, Not Proofread ~

Summary: Father O'Hara had a little lamb ~

A/N: Another for the Miguelverse ~ Reblogs and comments are much appreciated c:

Main Masterlist

From all the places you could've find solace from war, The house of God was the least of lieus in your list. Not that you had a choice.

Family long gone after unsuspected explosions decimated your town, followed by constant tragedies such as losing friends along the way either by enemy and merciless hands or sickness. In the end, it was only you. You had outlived them all despite your short age. And now, they lived crammed up in your memories.

Happy, smiling and very much alive. Sometimes you'd see familiar faces on stranger's bodies. Grief had slowly nested within your soul and when all hope seemed lost, the chapel had saved you from what surely would end up in your premature death.

The blackest of black matched the crispest white you had ever seen, they were all donned in their beatific robes, prayer beads dangling at every gentle step they did. And there it was, epiphany unfolding itself before your experienced in horror eyes. It was your call.

All the answers to your laments and aching heart were sent as them. Nuns of the Mistbourne Parish. A church located in the outskirts of a now rundown by conflict Nueva York. The church that now played a major role in taking in as much people within their sacred walls, before they could be dispatched to a more adequate place.

Without hesitation, you had joined. And now, six years later you still remained with them. Early twenties had settled right for you as a nun. Ever devoted, compassionate, and diligent.

As time went on, the main city was reconstructed, burying it's dark tragedy under freshly built towers, hiding the pain under the rugged carpet full of concrete and wire homes, like nothing ever happened. Like if war had never stepped upon it and gave it a much needed renewal at people's lives expenses.

But no matter how many changes time brought, life in Mistbourne's Parish remained the same. Untouched by the technological advances from the outer world. There was always something to do, as simple as it was. And so far, you've been satisfied with it.

The only alterations worth of mention was your holy family expanding.

A new couple additions to the staff. More sisters, an eighty percent of them were beyond fifty. You were the youngest, their child. After all some ended up raising you within the house.

And him. The new priest.

The tallest and bulkiest man you've ever seen. As much as staring was considered rude and borderline a sin, it was unavoidable to do so, when his rusty brown eyes fell upon you. Their color unique, like he was. Never in your life had you seen someone like him, or another man besides the butcher and the guard. He had definitely been a regular man before coming here.

The soft weary expression lines in his sharp countenance revealed his own fair of lived experiences.

He towered over you, crisp white dot on his black rimmed neck line, parading his status with modest pride, and golden praying beads dangling on his narrow hips, you held yours while asking forgiveness for keep staring.

"Father."

Father O'Hara. In his mid thirties, broken family also torn by war, wearing his vows in the shape of a ring on his right hand.

"Sister"

His voice deep yet gentle, like a lullaby. His steps took him away to his own residence. The rectory outside the church.

It made sense as to how some workers were renovating it in the past few weeks. The parish last priest had been sent off in sacred duties, only to realize later that he had killed a man. Cops and detectives surely made a show out of it.

Dark times, according to Sister Lianne, one of your mother figures. But now, Father O'Hara had taken his place, erasing all traces of the previous man with concise and pithy actions.

He took his role seriously. Said masses on sundays, visited the sick, baptized people; but his most popular feat was to hear the confessions. The most intimate secrets revealed to him by either your fellow sisters or people from the town that came to expiate their sins in hope to be forgiven.

You'd sometimes run into each other, bumping casually in the narrow wooden floored halls, you'd often apologize, only to reciprocate a polite smile on both ends. He'd sometimes help you out by carrying things a bit too heavy, or you'd help him out lighting up the altar for his speech.

Yet, his hands in one occasion took an accidental taste of your body dimensions underneath your beatific robes, while preventing you from falling down the stairs. He'd scold you for being careless and carrying things that obscured your sight.

After many sorries on your behalf, you returned to the cells and went straight to your own dorm, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His hands felt burning upon remembering the dents of your form, the curve of your waist and certainly the warmth that irradiated from you, so so close from his.

Unexpectedly it had brought memories from his past. His old life where he'd have his lovely and temporary companion for the night impaled deliciously with himself before war and hell broke loose. Before he was forced by the subversives that raided his town to create a new fake identity in the spot as they heard him speak spanish or fight a war he hadn't started, much less would end. And so, his life as Father O'Hara begun.

Odd enough, the sudden and thoughtless choice had granted him peace after witnessing so many terrors his fellow human could be capable of. His need of help has always been stronger than anything and when he finished licencing some sacrifices were required.

Poverty vows weren't an issue since his previous life had been modest yet good enough to go by. Little difference between his current lifestyle.

The obedience vow took him a little longer to fully yield. But he accomplished it to a T, just to avoid more trouble. He faked it until he made it.

His chastity vow had been a quite the challenge to perfect, but no matter how much the temptations paraded before him in the many parishes he was assigned to, he didn't give in. His libido had been sapped out of his body, like a campfire after completing it's useful cycle.

Not because of his brand new sanctity invested by holier-than-thou elders, but rather a broken mind full of grievance and other negatives that always haunted him. The gunshots and bombings too fresh in his mind.

It had been years since he touched someone in a way that wasn't holy. Since he had provoked things in someone else that clearly would make him go under the laicization from the clergy without second guessings.

Until he held you the other day.

Both of your eyes too enraptured in eachother that had sent an igniting spark to his spine. Reviving all those inactive nerves he thought his existencial toll severed long ago. His eyes had gave a brief rake over your face.

Wide and round eyes staring back, both in awe and surprise straight into his soul. Nose flaring softly just like your mouth, whose bottom lip trembled at the little erratic breaths your lungs exhaled upon being in physical contact with a man for the first time in ever, while cheeks bloomed with a not so discreet flush. And your body heat.

Jesus all mighty.

It was dangerously tempting. For a brief moment his past self had taken over, but quickly vanished upon hearing steps. Earning you to fix your crucifix and cowl nervously and him to fist his hands to refrain himself to take another taste and fix his collar and cassock.

To his conclusion, the robes you wore did not match what was underneath. He noted much, but having you wear that loose habit only fuelled his now active and sinful imagination. An opposite from your habits' purpose.

Priest life was hard, and the Celibacy vows were his biggest damnation. Mind often plagued with 'I shouldn't have done this.' 'This is ridiculous' 'Fucking idiot' 'Why did I even lie about this?' But even so, priesthood was better than ending up dead or mutilated by mines somewhere in the battlefield, in the middle of a war he didn't started, much less would end.

Government later was forcibly recruiting all those men, be them widowed or married. It didn't matter. War wasn't for him. Neither Priesthood.

But he'd bear it. He'd bear it until he was put in another parish church full of older and witty ladies he'd definitely wouldn't lust after.

----

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

The sweet voice behind the confessional punctured walls, perked up his ears. He had memorized a lot of things, your voice included.

"I... I haven't confessed in weeks. But it grows me concerned that... my mind is somewhere else."

Silence. You were met with silence as expected, it also encouraged you to keep talking.

"A man has flooded my thoughts and no matter how much I try to occupy myself, he's there. Leading me to temptation and sin."

A man?

His brow quirked as he slanted over the little wooden division between you, to hear better and take a peek on your face. The only men he could think of was the guard, the butcher and himself. The only men inhabiting the same area as you.

"How does this man tempts you?"

"He... He visits. In my dreams I mean and..."

A low 'forgive me, God' echoed in your stall. His throat dried and his hands rested on each side of his knees, gripping at the fabric of his pants.

"He does things I know I shouldn't partake in... But, it feels too real."

"You sound scared. Does it frightens you?"

"Very much so. But it is a strange sort of fear, Father."

"What kind of fear then?"

It took you a long pause to muster

"A fear of him stopping his visits in my mind."

He gulped.

Your hands took the crucifix and held it tighter, "For him to stop doing such sinful things to me, even in my dreams."

"Have you sinned in the carnal affairs?"

"N-No. I would never. I've never engaged in them, Father."

His groin twitched, as a hand raked over his scalp. A shaky breath that was forced to come out in silence. Only when he thought you couldn't be more innocent, there you were proving him wrong.

"Ever?"

"I promise to you with my life, I've never."

"I must know" He wetted his lips with his tongue, "What kind of things does this man does to you?"

"W-What?"

Your spine straightened up instantly, eyes wild, staring another hole into the already punctured division. Cinnamon color in his skin, the only brief glimpse you managed to see. But even so, his gentle yet cornering voice brought you down from your initial jump.

"I need to know, so I can dictate a penance."

The flush on your cheeks returned, burning bright upon remembering the all too lucid dream you've been having about your secret man. That, even though visited frequently, you still didn't know his face, just his body as it smothered yours wholy in a constant merciless and scorching rut.

All what you remembered was him feasting between your legs like a starved man. His hands maneuvering your soft mounds to then give a gentle squeeze.

"His hands are the ones that bring the sin, Father."

"Explain yourself"

His voice was sultry, buttery rich and smooth on the other side of the stall. A subtle order. To your dismay, that same demon had a similar voice tone. Alluring, speaking to you in a foreign language it had you mewling and asking for forgiveness every time you remembered, cause you had begged the faceless man for more.

"He touches and... t-tastes places I shouldn't allow no man to delve in." With a thick gulp you continued, "His tongue is... marvelous."

His eyes widened for a second as his hand hovered over his crotch

"Marvelous?"

"I feel the biggest sinner by admitting this. Please, do forgive me."

"Accountability is part of the process."

He tried to sound as professional as he could, but little did you know his mind was torturing his already crumbling resolve with such vivid details. Celibacy wasn't a problem, until now. Hearing such sinful words coming from such a unsuspecting thing like yourself, a virgin that is, made his old self to re-emerge.

Disguising himself as a sheep, while he fought through his holy learning years to tame his wolfish appetite.

There were plenty of ewes in the flock , but so far the only one that made his mouth water was you. A perfect little lamb. And now, this. We're you set to making him break his vows?

No. You weren't. He was reaching his limits to break celibacy and you were just having wet dreams about someone that definitely made him wonder about your past life. A past lover? No. Not even that. A possession? A demon? No. Definitely not.

He had heard things whenever on lunch duty. Mindless talk that revealed more to him from others and you than they intended to. You, a nun. Picked up from a ravaged village nearby and raised within  the nuns, meaning, you had zero idea of what pleasure meant.

He believed, but wasn't a complete blinded idiot to faith. Your body was asking for physical and forbidden relief. Just like his.

But again, the golden band around his right hand not only forbid but also was the perpetual reminder of what was a stake.

"I know, Father. But... this man has such power over me that has pushed me to sin. He... he has pushed me to take such vulgar matters in my own hands."

Maker's mercy

His cock twitched harder and he was unable hold back and gave a firm  squeeze while biting his lip to quiet himself at the long forgotten and heady pleasure that was drowning his body in an alarming rate.

As if done of being fed lies and a quick and sloppy handjob for ages. It was disgusting how easy was to sin, how well his body ached and reacted to such stimulus. How effortlessly his old habits had caught up to him.

He was the one that needed a penance now, cause he couldn't shake the image of you spread with your legs wide open, naked, sliding your fingers in between your weeping folds. You'd certainly have your mouth shut or lips bitten to avoid having anyone hear you.

He had closed his eyes while his jaw clenched, occasionally sweeping his tongue over his lips to keep them moist.

"Say it. Say your sin."

He commanded in a voice that had your cheeks flustered and your pearly nub a throb. His hand half squeezed half stroked over his clothed groin. Swollen and needy cock begging to be set free and properly taken care of.

"I..." A dry gulp and your hands went to your crotch, begging your nature to behave. Cheeks impossibly red.

"I've enjoyed touching myself after dreaming a man... f-fucks me, Father."

The word 'fuck' coming out your delicious looking yet pure lips, had his teeth gnawing at the insides of his cheek, self control harder to keep under the leash. It barked, howled even demanded for more explicit details.

Instead, he sighed quietly and cleared his throat. The sudden noise had you gripping the skirt of your habit in shame.

Miguel didn't say much besides the prayer of absolution and a couple of more prayers as your penance. The same right hand that was squeezing his cock was now being kissed by you, to confirm your forgiveness. Plump, warm and soft lips caressed his ring finger.

And once you were gone, his hand took control on its own, slid under his soutane to stroke himself. If you felt like a sinner, he was the devil himself.

The vice like grip in his own cock made him shudder, sensation foreign yet so welcoming after years without it. A little whine escaped past his gaping mouth, exhaling pecaminous breaths as he stroked like teenage boy that just discovered masturbation for the time ever. Sloppy, desperate and wet motions echoed in the now sullied stall.

He fisted his hand tighter, thick fingers coaxing a much needed release, hips rutting into his choking hand. Quiet whimpers and an array of curses flew out his mouth.

His flushed tip swayed and shook under his own rough ministrations while his jaw clenched, he clawed at the chair when hot and thick spurts of his cum dribbled down his hand and wrist before time; pooling in the hollow of his palm while earning a gutural growl that dissolved into a shaky whimper, as he curled against the wooden and punctured wall for a brief lapse of seconds to regain his composure.

"Fuck..." He had to lay against his chair to keep the light-headedness at bay, drowning in his own made pleasure, panting like he had run a marathon for hours.

He shouldn't have lied back ago. And  definitely shouldn't have become a priest. He was soiling their already tainted reputation. His old self was back to stay.

He cleaned up his hand under his robes to then leave to change. He was given a glimpse as you were picking up some harvest in the orchard while he was making his way back home.

---

Window's glasses echoed with the soft rain. The parish has been quiet during weekdays, but busy for you. As winter approaches the harvest must be picked, the grains sorted and the meats stored.

You saw Father O'Hara less and less, and when you did, they were mere glimpses. He was as busy in meetings with other priests, or preparing for the mass that was now given twice a week.

If you weren't in the garden or the laundry, you were in the choir.

Lingering yet brief gazes chased each other. He had heard some nuns speaking about him, some had wonderful things to say, saying that he had been one of the most efficient priests the church has had.

Others mentioned between hushed and bashful whispers about his physical condition and how they caught him go for runs at crack of dawn a couple of times.

And you, just wanted to go to confession again and ask for forgiveness. Not to spill the advantures you had in your dreams with a man that oddly resembled like Father O'Hara, but to unleash your heart's desires to wonder what was beyond the parish.

It was your life, all you've ever known so far. But one of those trips to the city during a beneful visit to another location, had left you amazed. How could a world so different like yours could be considered bad and straying?

But again, vows. Your vows bound you, and once broken, there was no turning back. But right now all that mattered was to get to the dorms. The rest was out in another visit to the city, you were to stay to finish your tasks in the kitchen.

Weather changed so abruptly that one moment you were taking the last basket of vegetables inside, to then run for the dorms to seek refuge. But they were far and the only thing in sight was Father's O'Hara rectory.

It was either getting a terrible fever from the cold and unforgiving rain or ask him to lend you an umbrella to mitigate the glacial numbness spreading through your body. Another reason you barely went out during these days, rains in the countryside were merciless.

Miguel was tending his own garden when the rain begun drenching. Even more when the thunders broke the peaceful white noise. He removed his soutane and shirt off leaving his inner vestments free, but the desperate knock on his door made his undressing ritual to stop.

While quirking an eyebrow, he approached the door and opened it. Eyes widened in surprise upon seeing you, soaked through your bones. lips blue and shivering from the cold.

"P-Please-"

"Jesus. Come in."

He ushered you in, then rushed to get a towel. A frown in his face deepened upon hearing your teeth clatter, clothes stuck to you like a second skin.

"C-Can I... borrow your... u-umbrella?"

Without much though he smoothened the towel against your face, drying it.

"An umbrella? Really?!"

A vehement shake of your head, while trying to get him off you.

"You're freezing cold, the dorms are too far for you to leave. Don't be stubborn."

"I... I don't h-have clothes."

You mumbled through rattling teeth while your eyes darted hazily over his naked torso. He sighed.

"Unbelievable. You're freezing to death and you're worried about clothes. Get them off, I'll put them to dry."

He grumbled while taking more logs into the fire to what would be his living room. If it wasn't for the glacial and biting freeze that refused to leave your body and the foggy thinking in your brain, your cheeks would be beyond red. Crimson even from such simple act.

A weak nod you gave. Your hands stopped bracing your shivering body to focus on removing the cowl and headdress. Releasing through shaky motions your soaked hair that wasted no time to stick on your face and neck.

The next was your crucifix, and praying beads, the tempo you removed them could make a slug to easily win the race, this alarmed him greatly. He had seen what hypothermia did, way before turning himself into this holy persona.

Without much thought, he peeled off your habit that weighed you down.

"Qué mierda más pesada" (Such a heavy shit)

He held you by one arm as he removed the outer layer off. Your eyes drooped and he gave you a little shake.

"Hey, hey, look at me."

Eyes concerned raking over and it dawned on you. Those eyes, the same beautiful and unique eyes were the same that visited in your dreams.

A difficult gulp rolled down your throat as Miguel kept undressing you while grunting. Wet clothes were a pain in his beatific ass. Shivering dicreased, but your lips remained blue, a new shade of purple drawing over them.

"I-It's so cold" You mumbled through laborious breaths.

"Course it's cold. You're soaked! What were you even doing?"

The way he scolded you felt like someone you've known for years was giving you a lecture. So casual, homey, normal. It was Miguel O'Hara speaking, not Father Miguel. The ever gentle and patient man you've been helping.

"Jesús bendito, con cuánta cosa te vistes." (Holy Jesus, so many layers.)

He murmured while pushing you to his chest as he removed the dress that covered your underwear. It felt like a heatless body had been thrown over him, but the warmth irradiating from him felt heavenly. Your form instinctively nuzzled your head on his chest. He had to stop to gulp at the sensations

Even though his mind slapped itself, His couldn't help but wander over your shivering and weak body.

"W-Wait"

A small dark patch hovered above the joint of your legs. Taut peaks followed by lovely areoles ever standing and shivering under the flimsy white fabric of a short nightgown that proved even harder to remove since it clung to you like a second skin, refusing to abandon your body.

He peeled you off of everything despite your protests, but was sufficiently prude to not look over your naked form. A minute too slow and it would be late. Like the young boy in his arms, that had died out of cold once the subversive groups arrived in the forsaken town, they had forced him and the rest to go through a frozen river. He made it, but the boy didn't.

His mind wasn't in the tip of his cock.

That will come later.

But his brain had only one single purpose right now. To keep you alive but for that he needed keep you warm.

Despite the recklessness of his actions, he pulled a freshly folded duvet around  while pulling you ontop of his chest and sat together near the fire. Hands moving to dry your hair as much as he could. Your skin was full of goosebumps, frosty to touch, that relished into any source of heat available. His torso, the duvet and the raging bonfire made your head spin.

It felt like his hands, rubbing some life back into your arms while he shielded your body, embracing your form with his torso and limbs. Like a paramedic on duty. Your cheek smooshed against his solid chest, it made him shudder with your own coldness but eventually the body heat treatment would be effective.

"Sorry" it was all you managed before your teeth shuddered again, and his fingers caressed your neck, placing a new wave of delicious heat on your skin.

"You'll be fine."

Your body was slowly but surely returning to it's temperature. Miguel remained there, basking you within his body, fingers gingerly caressing as much cold skin as he could under the duvet. Even his breath provided a little heat. Your erratic breaths collided against his skin, earning a discreet shudder from him.

You had drifted off to limbo, trying to sleep a bit, but unable to completely do so. Not when a man, the Parish Father nonetheless, was holding and nursing you back to an acceptable temperature with his own.

"Father O'Hara..."

Miguel's ears perked up upon you mentioning his name.

"It's Miguel."

He mumbled while drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The fire and the duvet had kept you toasty to curl even more towards him. Teeth no longer clattering.

"Thank you, Father."

"Stop."

His eyes rolled in annoyance, as his hands stopped caressing your skin to then rub his face.

"Stop calling me that."

"But that's your-"

"I don't like it."

He grumbled while looking down at you.

"Call me Miguel."

"I can't do that. Feels too disrespectful."

"I'm not Father O'Hara here, understood?"

You nodded

"Are you cold?"

"I am. Not as before but yes. Has it stopped raining?"

His own smell was making your mind a puddle, some of that fragrant incense remained etched on him.

"No. Just got worse."

You sighed while resting your head on his chest. Heartbeats a mellow lullaby.

"I'm sorry for all of this."

"You were cold and soaked." He pointed dully and bored.

The duvet was brought closer to your chest while staring at the flames. Fingers tracing a lazy and mindless pattern in his abdomen.

"I was picking up the last batch of harvest when rain poured on me."

Your toes curled in as a soft breeze flickered the fire and he tilted his head to watch you closer.

"Now I'll have to explain why there isn't enough corn."

"We'll go by. It's ok."

"Are my clothes ready yet?"

A snort that  would be translated into an 'Are you kidding me?', your brow furrowed.

"You'd be lucky if they get dry during the night."

Another defeated sigh. But a sudden thought however made your cheeks burn faintly.

"D-Did you see me naked?"

"No."

Oh.

There was a silent pause before you spoke again. Curiosity tempting.

"Have you seen other women naked?"

He huffed playfully while pushing your hair away from your lovely and sweet face.

"Yes. I was a regular man before all of this."

His fingers curled up in his hand, morphing into a lazy fist

"Do you miss it?"

"Would be a liar to say if I don't."

"You... You've had sex before?"

He chuckled while with an open palm, took a taste of your skin, deliberately roaming your lower back. You shuddered.

"I did. Plenty of times."

Your audible gasp made his eyes droop hazily in a smirking grimace.

"I was told it felt marvelous."

You looked up at him and he pulled your chin upwards, he really had to keep his restrain under a leash to not take you here and there, instead, he cupped your face and hovered his lips over yours

"Do you want me to teach you, Sister?"

He was the demon. The very same one that visited in your dreams and left you a soaked mess. A little too late you'd noticed that he wasn't wearing his vow ring. It was placed somewhere else you truly couldn't care less at the moment.

You only nodded.

"Use your words, dear"

"Please", you gulped, "Teach me."

It was in that moment that he sealed your lips with his. Your first kiss ever. Chaste and sweet at the beginning that slowly turned into this obscene display of his mouth assaulting yours with his tongue in between gentle licks and bites of his lips.

A shaky whine then a whimper escaped your throat upon feeling his hands skimming down your spine. He only let you go when you tapped out for air.

"How often am I on your mind, pequeña?"

Finally the demon in your dreams had turned into a reality. Eyes were closed, unable to look at yourself melting under his touch. Nipples perked against his chest.

Plump and hot lips caressed yours but they stopped. Hands pulled you upwards, Miguel turned you around so your back was now colliding with his chest.

"You're still cold."

Cheeks grew impossibly red while he slowly peeled off the duvet out of your body, leaving you bare before him. You gulped as he moved your hair to a side and slowly kissed up and down your neck.

His hands were unable to resist any more and cupped your mounds, like in your dream. Calloused palms, rough against soft breast.

"Qué maravilla. Is this how your dream goes?

Legs smothered together, a little strip of hair etched to your pubic mount. He hummed in appreciation to then part your legs above his. Cunt pulsing at the coolness of air brushing past it.

Both of your legs dangled ontop of his as you remained nested above. Your heart beat at the playful moves his middle and index finger pulled on your nipple as his free hand darted over the joint of your inner thighs. You could feel him trembling underneath, the restrain made his breath hitch.

Your own turned erratic once more as he slid three fingers in between your folds. A shy Ah escaped your lips while he used two of them to part the outer labia

"Look at that, little one. Is that what you touch when thinking of me?"

Drunk eyes darted between your legs and his skillful hand, the engorged and pearly clit peeked out as one of his fingers flickered slowly. Focusing the right amount of pressure in it that had your moans shaky. He paused to adjust his fingers as they caressed and rubbed as much flesh as they could.

Mouth etched to your ear. Deep and needy breaths fanned behind you

"So so pretty. Look at that"

He made a show of his fingers coating themselves in your slick. One of his digits hovered over your entrance, slowly it disappeared inside. A muffled groan echoed in the void space

A wet and shlicking sound came from his ministrations, head unable to move, too enraptured into watching him sliding in and out. Skin bloomed with a new wave of goosebumps as his tongue licked your neck and earlobe, rewarding you for taking one finger deliciously, that he licked up clean before going back to rub at your clit.

"Want to add another?"

A breathless and hissing yes.

You didn't know who was with you right now since Father O'Hara couldn't. Your brain still refused to believe they were the same man. One preached and talked mass every Sunday, the other had your head spinning while his fingers explored your insides with such gentleness it only increased your whimpers and need for something more and bigger within you.

"Does that feel good, Hm?"

A dumb nod while more escaped your mouth repeatedly

"More?"

"Please!"

How could he deny to such petition? Even most when you were gripping him so deliciously and pulsating with every stroke he delivered in, grazing at your sweetest spot.

"Like this?"

He increased the tempo and your breath hitched, hips moving to meet his fingers aiding them to reach deeper and deeper.

Breaths turned into short and shallow pants, blood rushed to your cheeks. One of his digits pushed past between your lips meeting your moist muscle that wasted no time into kissing it. All you could hear was yourself and your weeping pussy that demanded for more.

But they weren't enough. Brain was sent into an override when the climax washed over you. All the pent up need and lust drowned you. Strong pulsations dictated the contractions that trapped and milked Miguel's fingers. Mind split in two in a shattering and core shaking spasm.

Mouth gaped, eyes heady and drunk with blind hot pleasure, body convulsed while an array of mumbles and clumsy curses flew out of your mouth to finally end with a delicious quivering cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, pequeña." He cooed you through it while kissing your neck. Heart pounding in your ears.

It took you a moment to breath properly. How could you have missed this? How could you remain so ignorant to this? Alienated from something you were often told it was dirty and condemning.

He had only touched in the right places and you were melting. But why stopping there? You knew he also wanted you, his hard on pressing over your lower back, begging to set free.

"M-More"

He shook his head with a proud smile

"Can't do that, preciosa"

A capricious whine came through your throat, "Why not?"

"Cause, as much as I'd love to take you until you recite the bible backwards to me, you know what could happen."

"You don't want me, then? Why stopping now?"

"Far from that. And we must be discreet. Wouldn't want you to be whipped by Sister Lianne."

He took your hand and kissed your wrist. While his other limb pulled you closer to him.

"I am the only one that shall leave marks on you, my dear. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-" He took your chin in a gentle but firm grip.

"Is that clear?"

You nodded with a pout.

"Lay on the bed."

"What? "

"Lay on the bed, so I can taste you."

Miguel could fulfil that fantasy. With Bambi-like steps you pushed yourself up and walked over his bed. Plush surface welcomed your body under a creak.

"Spread them."

Toes curled up for a second before spreading them open. Clit already tingling with a foreign yet needy sensation.

He kneeled before you, like he did every day he worshipped the Lord. But this time it wasn't God, but you. Nose nuzzled over your inner thighs while taking a whiff of your scent. Tantalizing and so alluring for his own senses.

Slow and deliberate kisses were placed above your flesh, the strip of hair that decored your pussy, to finally sink in between soaked folds.

The mewl you gave only made him feast upon you. Hands grope the sheets by instinct as he spreaded you further.

His tongue lapped and curled at your hole, slurping it without refrain and inhibitions. Devouring it like it would be his last meal.

Your dream had felt too vivid, yes, but this was completely different. This was in a whole new different level. His corruption had tainted your soul and it was gladly welcomed into your arms.

Legs twitched and shook while your head was thrown back, chest heaved with shallow breaths, unable to breath properly as his tongue was set into fucking your drooling hole.

The way his tongue fucked, dribbled and guzzled your cunt had you mewling and moaning the filthiest things you didn't think possible you could get out.

Good was an understatement, heavenly was a measly word to compare what you felt like. It was maddening and he gave you no rest.

Have you ascended? No. He just wrapped your supple thighs around his head, preventing you from squirming too much, holding your hips in place as his sloshing and assailant mouth gave you no rest.

You hadn't recovered completely from the other orgasm when a new one had approached. Lurking around your senses.

His name was moaned, over and over and when your hands were done of clinging onto the sheets, you held onto his hair. Silky and smooth chocolate locks slid under your fingers.

Eyes peeked over you, and he had to pause for a moment to squeeze his cock. Aching and weeping for him to let him free and make you his. But that would come later.

That would come much later when he had more leisure time and when he'd get protection. As much as he wanted to wreck your snug cunt, he didn't want you to be whipped and shamed like another nun was when the higher ups found out she was pregnant by an outsider.

"Miguel"

His name on your lips rich and tasty, like him.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance to immediately go for your clit. Plump lips pursed and captured the engorged nub. While his hands pushed your legs up and folded them, giving a complete access to your pulsating pussy.

He slurped and souped while his tongue teased. Wet laps sent jolts through your spine each time he tasted you.

Too much. Too good and too soon, yet he didn't stop. He shook his head like a mad dog subduing it's prey and that move alone had you gushing over his mouth. He quickly gobbled it all down.

You whined, cried and blabbled, even tried to pull his head away but he delivered you a last stroke with his tongue to then lick his lips clean.

"Please"

You mumbled through blown breaths as he watched you with a lust blown glare.

What had he done out of you?

"Greed is a sin, my dear."

What had he created?

"But if you're good enough, the wait will be worth it."

His little lamb was so willing for him, aching to be tainted, corrupted even more. And his task was to banish such whims.

He'd given you a taste of what laid ahead. A promise of a much unholy reward if you followed this path with him. But your resolve had been made the first time you came.

He'd be your first and last. There wasn't any need for another to teach you what he was compliant to demonstrate.

You'd be his to fuck. His to tame and corrupt.

You'd be his.

---

Taglist:

@plumplumpurin

[nanamis-bigtie]

pina colada

↬ gojo x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), piv sex, aphrodisiacs, unrealistic sex, creampie (like...a lot of it), belly bulge, reader is implied to be much smaller than gojo, dumbification if you squint, slight degradation (reader is called a slut), a little of breeding talk (in a very feral meaning of it), gojo is a little fucked up (was he ever normal tho), top & dom gojo summary: this was supposed to be a chill leave but satoru wouldn't be himself, if he didn't make things…complicated. and horny. word count: 1.6k a/n: i won against anxiety! this text is...not exactly what i aimed for when preparing the prompt but i'm pretty satisfied with the result. feral gojo my beloved tag list: @thesacredfanfics

You've imagined your first retirement trip quite...different. 

Taking it easy was the motto you both intended to uphold. You deserved it after the absolute hell of the last two years and an additional few months of convincing Satoru that he really needed to step down and leave everything to others. His body and soul and your relationship needed a breather, nothing but sweet laziness in a luxury hotel on Bali, away from Japan, away from sorcery, away from Gojo clan relentlessly rushing you two to settle down and marry, as if the old schemes still had any meaning in the new world. 

No, his phone got turned off right on Tokyo Narita and hidden in your pocket, you left your laptops behind and locked away, your number was entrusted only to a handful of people and instructed to be used in case of an extreme emergency. You agreed for it together, this peculiar isolation from the world the only way you could properly rest through the month to come. For the whole of October, you belonged only to each other, to tropical beaches, local cuisine, parties in expensive clubs, and your spacious bedroom with a sinfully comfortable California king sized bed, just perfect to finally sate your libido.

But Satoru wouldn't be himself if he hadn't stepped into an affair right on the first day anyway, even before you managed to unpack all the bags. He made a local curse user run for their life, more bored than anything, and returned with a small bottle of...something he confiscated.

You still taste its flavor at the back of your throat, sweet and tart at the same time, like pina colada made by an unskilled bartender with a little too much cheap rum. It was thick and rather hard to swallow, its consistency nothing like any other drink you had tried so far, and it pricked your tongue with that characteristic tinge of cursed energy. This aphrodisiac was surely infused with some kind of cursed object, maybe a product of someone's cursed technique, and as under any other circumstance you wouldn't be eager to try it just like that, when Satoru already swallowed his half, you just followed suit. 

The party mood was definitely to blame, music was still buzzing in your blood as you were grinding against his lap and chasing his lips. The bottle was in his pocket, and you were the one who pulled it out, its shape climbing into your thigh uncomfortably. Satoru had already forgotten about its existence, but he immediately recognized his trophy and uncorked it before you could say anything.

And since then, the matters escalated...quickly.

Thighs flush to his hips, you ride him without cease. You've lost feeling in your calves a long time ago and your knees scream for mercy—yet, you don't stop, fearing that the flame burning deep in your cunt would swallow you whole as soon as you take a breather. Up and down, you swallow him over and over again, his cum pouring out of your abused hole and pooling at the base of his cock. You've lost count of how many times he's finished in you already, yet of your own orgasms, but you know you've reached every physical limit of your body. Aphrodisiac running in your veins has you pushing them relentlessly, somehow forcing exhaustion and pain out of your comprehension. There's only lust and warmth of his length, filling you to the brim and, somehow, still pressing deeper and deeper, seeking new crevices to be filled with his seed.

Satoru underneath is a mess too, sweaty, shaking and whining. His skin is flushed, be it fever of the moment or the sunset soaking you both in pink light, exposing scars scattered all over his torso, arms, and face. Moisture slips his blindfold down; beadily blue gaze runs you through as it skims along your body bouncing on top of his. He's lost the famous Six Eyes, a sacrifice made by a binding vow to let him survive, but at that very moment you feel as if it's never been gone. You recognize this intensity, your body and mind respond to it instinctively—the absolute submission and trust only Satoru has ever been able to elicit from you.

"Kiss me," he demands, voice breaking in need, and fills you up yet again as soon as your lips brush his. His hot seed flows inside you, you can feel its pressure against your cervix and another ounce of older loads slipping out of your hole. It's such a waste but you can't help it, you can hold inside only as much, and he's still determined to somehow overflow you from the entrance to your womb.

You've never experienced sex with this intensity. Aphrodisiac sharpens your senses thoroughly, you're feeling him with parts of your body you've never thought that they're capable of ever feeling. Every twitch of his length thumps through your body, every new spasm of incoming high has your cunt clench tight around him, trying to desperately swallow everything he's offering, maybe this time it can be savored whole, maybe this time you can expand your limits and let him breed you straight into your core.

Lustful poison wants you to continue beyond breaking but your body starts giving up, your legs too jelly to handle your weight any more. Your rhythm starts faltering, you lean forwards in a desperate attempt to help yourself with your arms, your hands only slipping off his sweaty chest.

"I can't," you sob, yourself not sure if in exhaustion or immense need for more.

"Yes, you can." Heels digging in the mattress, Satoru lifts his hips and bounces you himself. "C'mon, pretty thing, just one more time? I know you want it badly ."

His fingers sink in your skin, bruise your hips yet again as he's rutting into you without a break. He has you creaming around his cock again, gushing your juices and his cum alike. Eyes fixed on your fluttering lips, he tries to shake the sweat-soaked blindfold of his face. You want to help, only to lose fragile balance and to almost slip off him and his greedy embrace.

"Hey," he groans, his voice dropping so low it doesn't sound like his anymore. "Hey, hey, hey, where do you think you're going?"

Satoru rocks himself forwards, having you on your back just for a moment enough to slip out of you and turn you around, face shoved into pillows and your hips yanked up. He gathers the mess leaking out of you with the tip of his cock, then finds your entrance with one, rough thrust.

The sound you make doesn't sound human anymore. He's reached the depth he has never before, maybe even indeed somehow pushed himself past your cervix. Without the help of the aphrodisiac, you could have been in immense pain—but now, you're only clawing sheets and trying to meet his moves halfway, craving every inch of his thick cock drilling into you. You want more , you want to be bred until even your womb is filled to the brim and bulging your tum.

One hand pressed tight to your abdomen, undeniably trying to feel himself moving in you, Satoru keeps holding you down by neck. With a corner of your eye, you can spot his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, his face on the brink of losing his humanity, too. There's nothing left of tenderness he's always had reserved when looking at you; there's only lust and blind chase for release and sadistic satisfaction wincing his expression whenever your mewls grow more hoarse and desperate.

His thrusts relentlessly push you towards the edge of bed; you're not able to hold yourself against them and his hold is not enough to keep you in place. Satoru's hand sneaks from the nape of your neck to your throat and pulls you towards him, until you're kneeling, your back flush to his torso. The mirror is filled with you both now, the sight of the size difference between you two alone almost having you cream on his cock again. He's watching too, his gaze fixed once on your face, once on your union and your belly really bulging in the shape of his cock, his moves calming down just enough to focus on dragging new views and reactions out of you.

"You look like a slut." He laughs, the sound suiting more a demon than your caring and always a little pathetic partner, and slides his long fingers into your mouth. You're drooling around them, choking, your own fingers scratching his wrist, yourself not sure if to pull him out—or quite contrary, make him torture you even more. 

You're both losing your sanity with each passing second, the poison in your veins only growing stronger the more you succumb to the lust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you cum again, the spasm of your cunt almost painful, and your legs give in, your body now limp in his hold. Satoru clicks his tongue, lets you melt just enough to hook arms under your knees and yank you up. His hands are at the back of your neck again, eventually locking you in a full nelson hold, absolutely helpless and left on his mercy.

When you regain your sight, you're staring straight at your body wide open, your cunt stretched by his twitching cock and gushing his cum.

"C'mon, pretty thing, don't pass out on me here." He sinks teeth in your neck, hard, as if trying to tear a piece of flesh out of you. "It's not even dark yet."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Demon's Thrall

Incubus Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements, demon!Simon, incubus!Simon, accidental summoning, deal with a demon, descriptions of future sexual acts, power imbalance, master/slave, witch!reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Requested by @coffeecaketornado for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Summon a Demon)

Attempting to return what has been lost, you seek the Void, with the hope that someone will reply. What responds is a creature from hell. They return what you’re asking for but the price for such an ask is your soul.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

There is fire in the air. Salt on your tongue.

Power surges through you, heating your blood, and lifting you into the air. Words, old and ancient, drip from your lips. The grimoire in your hands glows, the pages tinged in blood-red. Its cover is leathery, made of human flesh and lined with animal teeth.

You've been searching for years, delving through dimensions to seek a spell that might return what you've lost. The pentagram on the floor radiates yellow light as the candle flames around you go out.

This is your last hope. A final attempt.

Little witch.

The voice is deep, whispering in your ear. It is not one you recognize.

Ignoring the voice, you remain focused on the spell, chanting until the air kicks up and roars in your ears. The pentagram's glow increases, almost blinding in its intensity. There is a heavenly bright quality to the light, and hope swells in your chest, spurring your chanting to a louder crescendo.

Little witch.

A dark form takes shakes within the light. It’s slightly round in shape, like a hunched figure. You are so close. This is what you’ve been waiting for. Everything you’ve lost will be returned.

You will be whole. You will be happy.

The final words fall from your lips, and a sense of completion settles over you. The ritual is done. It is complete. You’ve finally succeeded after years of trial.

The wind dies, the air calming, and your feet return to solid ground. The pentagram’s glow dims, revealing the figure crouched within. Whatever dark shadow obscured them within the light melts away in tendrils of black sludge, revealing…wings.

Leathery, bat-like wings.

They ripple. Shake.

Expand.

As the bat wings unfurl, the first thing you see are stone grey horns. They curl slightly out and back, the sharpened tips pointed upward toward the ceiling. They are connected to a man, his skin flushed a subtle shade of red. His legs and torso are bent, his arms crossed over his knees protectively.

Behind the thick, muscled arms is movement. The man lifts his head, and you’re met with eyes so black they resemble bottomless pits. They are consuming and yet empty, begging you to fall inside and tumble forever without ever knowing the relief of death.

Staring directly at you, he blinks slowly like a contented cat. Some of the darkness bleeds away in his eyes, revealing fiery pupils. A wickedly cruel smile forms, stretching across his face in a way that unsettles you.

The quiet after the ritual is drowned out by his power, the intensity of it slamming into you like a wave. It is immense. Suffocating. You feel no pain. No hatred. It is violent arousal, so pure and unfiltered that your body shudders as if in ecstasy.

Incubus. Demon.

"I did not summon you," you growl, fighting through his demanding presence. It wants to wiggle in, you twist around your heart, to make you orgasm to feed his infernal desire.

"Oh, little witch. You did," he purrs.

With a languid, hypnotic sway, the naked demon before you revealing himself completely, standing tall and proud in the middle of the pentagram.

He is solid muscle—all strength. Broad shoulders give way to a firm chest and abdomen. Scars pepper his skin. They are not haphazard or random. There is a pattern. There is a purpose. The scars on his chest and abdomen spiral downward, circling the base of his erect cock in a mandala-like pattern.

Your gaze lands on the hardened appendage. It is ribbed and pierced on the underside. The base is slightly rounder, the skin a bit loose as if it could swell. His testicles are heavy and large. There are scars there, too.

He is terrifying, yet entirely alluring.

"I didn't call for a sex demon."

The demon smiles, showing his fangs. "You asked for something to be returned to you.” He extends his arms in a placating gesture. “And I have granted it."

Bitter hope blooms in your chest though you know that demons enjoy a good lie. "You grant me nothing."

The demon's smile doesn't fade. "If I could not grant your request, I'd be in your thrall. Trapped within this pentagram. Unable to touch you.”

"You are in my thrall, demon.”

He shakes his head. "No, love. You are in mine."

With a snap of his fingers, a heavy weight seizes your neck. Instinctually, you claw at your throat, dropping the grimoire. Your seeking fingers find solid metal.

A collar. A fucking collar.

“What have you done?” you ask, panic rising in your voice.

The demon does not reply. He lifts his hand, palm upward, and then brings his fist together as if he holds an invisible robe. He tugs that transparent tether and you jerk forward, falling onto your face.

The wooden floor slams into your stomach, pushing all the air from your lungs. The demon tugs again, and you’re dragged across it. Gathering your wits, you flip onto your back, your own hands clawing at the air in front of you to find the invisible chain.

“No!” you screech, finding the connection. “You are contained!”

A sob quickly rises with the panic, threatening to burst forth from your lips as you dig your heels in. Every tug draws you closer and closer to the pentagram.

Glancing over your shoulder, you seek the grimoire where you dropped it. As if sensing your intent, the demon pulls on your chain harder, yanking you back around to face him. With a snarl, you jerk back against the chain to put distance between the two of you.

The demon is stronger, and with a final tug, you’re yanked onto your feet and hauled over the pentagram. You slam into him, but the incubus is a solid wall, and his hard cock pokes at your stomach like a demanding prod. It’s a threat of what’s to come.

You've heard the stories. Incubi love witches. They last longer in hell, and their wombs can carry demon spawn easier than any human. For them, witches are a treasure. Human women are shared. Witches are hoarded. At least this one won't share you with others. He'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you alive and healthy but only for his own ends.

"You asked for revival,” he purrs, breath warm against your skin. “The one you sought dwells in my realm. I granted your request. Now you're mine. Forever."

The incubus snaps his fingers and the grimoire ignites, consumed in flame. With a roar, you lash out with all the power you have.

Nothing swells. Nothing ignites.

You are empty. Hollow.

Your magic does not answer your call.

"What have you done?" you gasp, staring down at your hands before turning your threatening gaze on him.

"It's only silenced," he murmurs. "Not gone."

You pound your fist against his chest but the demon does not falter. It's like hitting a brick wall. You use your other fist, striking out repeatedly but the demon is unfazed.

"Are you done with your tantrum, little witch?” he asks, bored.

"You've made me your slave," you hiss.

The demon's pleased purr only tightens the leash further. "Your words. Not mine."

"You've put a collar around my neck."

"We made a bargain."

"We did no such thing,” you insist.

The demon’s head tilts slightly, amused. “You called out to the Void. You asked for help. Any help. And I granted it. If you didn’t want something to answer, then why do it?”

Because I want everything to be as it was.

You remain silent, jaw tense as you grind your teeth. You will not justify yourself to this monster. Your actions are your own.

“I have nothing to say to you, demon,” you reply slowly.

"Ghost," he corrects with a cocky smile. "That is what you are to call me. Or," he shrugs.

"Master. Since you seem to prefer that."

"You're foul," you mutter.

Ghost's smile is almost mocking, as if you're a petulant ignorant child who knows nothing of the world. "Oh, little witch. You'll change your tune. I guarantee it.”

You lean as far back as you can which isn’t much. Ghost’s hold on your chain is unrelenting. "What is worse than being at the beck and call of a demon?"

Ghost’s head dips intimately as if to kiss you. You jerk back, but wince when the metal of the collar bites into the nape of your neck.

"Any hellspawn might have answered your call,” he whispers gently. “Would you like one of the Grand Dukes? They’re an…interesting bunch. Their harems are vast, but a witch to add to a collection? You’d have them all fighting over you.” Ghost chuckles softly. “Exchanging beds constantly. Satiating their every appetite.”

Your nostrils flare in anger. Jerking on the chain does nothing, and Ghost does not move away from you. He remains close like a lover.

“Or perhaps a Lord of pestilence? Can you imagine yourself in one their laps for all eternity? Constantly sick. Constantly ill. A new disease to test on your flesh whenever they please.” When you don’t reply to his remarks, Ghost continues. “What about a Torturer from one of Nine Circles?”

"You're teasing me,” you growl.

Ghost shakes his head. “I am merely telling you the truth.” He lowers his voice, a menacing promise. “They will take. They will hurt.” His gaze drops to your lips, observing your mouth. His hand upon the chain gives a little tug, and that one little pull almost closes the distance. His thumb traces your chin, the sharpened nail lightly pressing against your bottom lip.

“I am a demon of pleasure,” he purrs. “You’ll spend your waking hours keeping my cock wet and warm. All you’ll know are the orgasms I give you.” Ghost’s head lowers further, lips brushing against your cheek as he continues. “You’ll look beautiful in my lap. Naked. Skin glistening with sweat from hell’s fires. Cunt full of my cock.” The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. “Promise you’ll enjoy the piercing, little witch.”

“Fuck you,” you mutter.

He sighs. “You think me cruel now. But I promise, little witch, you’ll be begging for me.”

“I don’t beg.”

“For my cock you will.” One muscled arm comes around to your back, blocking escape. “You will resist. You will hate me even. But in time, you will want me. I’m a patient demon. I can wait.”

“Then you’ll wait for all eternity. You are no different from your brothers and sisters”

He exhales, lips tracing against your cheekbone to move to your ear. “I cannot wait to fill your holes. To gift you with my seed. To know what you sound like when you orgasm with my cock inside you.” Deep in his throat comes a rolling groan. “You will want no others.”

“I will never want you,” you whisper, but even your strength is wavering.

Ghost’s grip on your leash tightens until the metal digs into your skin. He draws you in until there is no space between your bodies. His hard cock digs into your abdomen. Through your clothes, you can feel the ribbed shaft. Though you abhor the idea of spreading your legs for this hellspawn, you’re also curious about how he’d feel inside you.

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. "Already you lean in my favor."

"You're delusional."

Ghost traces the curve of your ear with his forked tongue. "I can smell your arousal, little witch."

Against your buttocks, Ghost’s tail traces a trail downward. It ventures between your legs. You stiffen as the tip slips between skin and fabric, toying with your entrance. For a moment, you think it might dip inside, but it retreats.

The tip of his tail appears before you. The two of you observe it. It is glossy with your arousal.

In stunned silence, you watch as Ghost licks the slickness off. A pleased groan escapes him. "Beautiful. Tasting you properly will be an honor." The middle of his brow creases slightly, and that wicked smile returns.

"Ready to descend, little witch?”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@waves-against-a-cliff @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @marispunk

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[alien-magnolia]

Tainted Love

Fic description: This is a dark fic. 18+ MINORS DNI. Dom!-coded Billy Loomis + hyperfeminine, sub-coded afab reader: they are married, committing crimes together <3 and having a wonderful domestic life <3 besides all the blood and murder. Smut/horror genre: kinks include service!, blood!, knifeplay!, ropes!, choking!, spanking!, free-use!, SERVICE, d/s mental dynamics, majorrrr daddy!kink, exhibitionism

If you like this post, pls engage, comment, reblog! It means so much to me, Ty <3 WC 2.7k

October 10, 1996.

The dark red, yellow, with tinges of brown leaves tumbled down the secluded suburban street. A tan cottage stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, yard neatly trimmed, wind chimes ringing on the porch where they hung. A dim light inside. A black van pulls into the driveway, scaring away a few neighboring birds. The door shuts — a young man enters the house.

——

You were just about finished with tonight’s dinner when your partner came back from college. You loved Billy dearly, and so you did almost everything for him. It was your dynamic — and he loved it as well. You served him, your Billy, your daddy.

How exactly did you get involved with a serial killer? Involved far enough to be an equal partner in his crimes? Involved enough to be so cautious and excellent at keeping first-degree murder a secret? Involved enough to live with him?

—-

It began last fall. A chilly November morning, fog rolling in on the campus. You walked in your pretty pink outfit, donning lace and frills, kitten heels, and butterfly hair clips. You were only nineteen. Young. Innocent. You were looking for your ‘Introduction to Early Modern Literature’ class, yet happened to wander over on the other, more secluded side of campus. You stumble over a rock on the sidewalk. You fall, beautiful rosy cheek now stained with a gash of bright, red blood.

Your hands, your knees, cut up from the bumpy pavement. You start crying. This was just too embarrassing!! With your social anxiety and shyness, you really hoped nobody had seen this. You did not like to be perceived by people — that is just how you were. You look around — not a soul to be seen.

Except for a man — lean, sitting on a brick bench, cigarette in hand. You couldn’t make out how he looked, yet fear overtook you as he started making his way over. You start to scramble up, hoping to run away from him, yet your bruises were just too intense for you to do so.

His deep voice asks you, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay? You nod. “Yeah jus’ a few scratches. Can’t see too well in the fog,” you sheepishly explain. “Hey, no worries. Here, I’ll help you up, yeah?” You oblige, taking his big calloused hands in yours as he helps you stand. You finally get a good look at him. God — he was handsome. More than handsome. Extremely, extremely, attractive. You got wet just by looking at his deep brown eyes and crooked smile looking down at you.

“Hey. Don’t be too shy, hun. Come. Want me to help you fix those bruises? There’s a bathroom right around the corner, he suggests. You nod silently, agreeing, following him to a door on the left.

He begins wiping your bruises with a wet towel, trying to stop the bleeding. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses. You see more of him now. He wears all black. Smells like cigarettes and a dusty old basement. “So what brings you to this part of campus?,” he asks, brown eyes focused on your bruises.

“Just got lost. Needed to find one class but couldn’t. Maybe I’ll skip today anyway…,” you trail off. “Aw. Today’s your first day huh?,” he coos at you, with a smile you just couldn’t figure out. “Um. Yes. I don’t really know the campus, so…,” you quietly answer him, afraid to look into his eyes. His voice, his face, it all made you thirst for him even more.

“I could tell. Hey. Maybe you should skip. Been looking for someone to hang out with,” he suggests, finishing up cleaning your bruises, putting a few bandaids on you. “I’m Billy, by the way.” You introduce yourself to him, a little smile forming on your face. You ended up skipping class that day, spending time with him in that secluded courtyard, smoking cigarettes, listening to The Smiths. You ended up fucking in the bathroom a few hours later. You knew that you were indubitably attracted — glued to him and everything that he was. Something did feel a little off about how he treated others — you did not care.

So it was.

——

~Present day ~

You hear the keys jingle in the doorway, heavy boots make their way towards the kitchen, where you were. You currently donned a short little black dress, fishnets, with nothing underneath. You were waiting for him.

“Hey, sweets. Looking good today,” he compliments you, as he takes your small hand in his, moving you closer to him, wrapping a hand around your waist. You giggle as he peppers your cheek with kisses. “Sweetie. Want’a ask you something,” he insists, quietly, yet confidently. Your big eyelashes blink as you wait for his question.

“Wanna play with me tonight?,” a sinister smile adorns his face, his brown eyes filled with a hint of malice, excitement. Your eyes match his. You loved playing with him, your sessions, where you gave over complete control of yourself, to him. You trusted him completely. He led, you followed.

You were his. His prey, his little girl, his accomplice. You were his, devoted completely, mind and body. The two of you even had matching tattoos: a forever symbol of your unique relationship.

“Yes, daddy. What first?” He chuckles lowly. “Glad you asked, princess. We’re going to the van.” You smile back at him, as he gives you a kiss, pulling you closer to him by your neck. You knew what to do, sticking your hands out, as he takes a rope from the nearby drawer.

The rope felt nice around your wrists, you liked to watch him tie it. You didn’t want your freedom when you played with him. “Daddy’s girl, all tied up, huh? Come sweets. Let’s go to the van,” he sneers at you in the best possible way, as he leads you outside. Still, he manages to grab a coat for you, alongside some knives. You suspected that both of you will be using those later.

“Before we leave our house, thought we might have a bit of fun in the van, what’dya say? I think it’ll be nice for my little girl, yeah?,” he croons at you, caressing your cheek, before gripping it harshly, brown eyes boring into yours.

You’re on your knees for him in his dingy van. His waffle knit white t-shirt feels nice on your bound hands, as you see him start to unbuckle his belt, dropping his jeans to the floor of the van. “Give daddy’s cock some love, hun,” you hear, and his strong arms work to push you down to the floor. You look up at him from your back, you see him towering over you, cock in his calloused hand, slowly rubbing it. He lowers his cock and balls onto your face, you love the feeling of his heavy ball sack on your chin. His cock was wide, not too long, yet wide, weeping, with three beautiful veins and a beauty mark <3

It was all red and ready for your wet throat. You took him eagerly, sucking so much pressure, you felt his silky smooth voice moan out in ecstasy. You keep sucking, swirling your tongue around the mushroom tip of his cockhead. He pulls a knife to the side of your cheek. You stop.

“Look what daddy’s got here hun. You don’t like this little toy, do you?,” he taunts. With that, he lowers the knife to your chest, where he makes a gentle cut on it. He liked to cut you with his knife. Another way to possess you, to mark you as HIS.

“Get up, sweets. Daddy’s gonna cum if you keep this shit up.” He chuckles, and helps you up, wiping that little cut he made with a towel. That same towel now goes in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

His hands tightly grip your hips, pushing you down onto the floor of the van again. Hips spread, gagged, hands still tied, you felt his finger swipe across your clit, down your labia, trailing over your wet, wet, pussy. Your hole was clenching around nothing!! He was going to fix that.

“Aww. Look at you , sweetie. Cheeks all rosy, ass up for me, ready to be bred,” he taunts. You only moan in response. “Does daddy’s little girl want to be bred, hmm? Like a little cow?” You moan in response, he tuts, and lifts your neck up gently. “What was that?,” voice low. Shit. You fucked up.

“Yes, daddy,” your voice is muffled through the gag. He smiles again, that dark smile of his. Sinister. Evil. Exactly what you wanted to see. Without warning, you feel him push into you. Wide, throbbing, filling that sweet spot exactly how you wanted. He went slow for just a little, relishing how good his little girl, his breeding cow, dumpster, was for him. Then he went fast. Too fast. You loved hearing the sound of his cock and balls slap against your ass, your squelching pussy <3

You feel so full of him, you saw stars as his wife cock drilled deeper and deeper into you. You felt him twitch inside, your favorite part!! “Take my cum, baby. Fuckin’ take it,” you hear him grunt, as his hands press your body down into a mating press, his stomach now on top of your back. He had you caged in, tied, gagged, absolutely abusing you on his wide cock. You were in heaven. You were his now, in this moment. The both of you came, and of course, he did not let you squeeze his cum out of you.

“Keep it in, hmm? Want our visitors to know that you’re daddy’s girl.” You nod and smile, making grabby hands at him once he unties your wrists, and takes the towel out of your mouth. He lifts you up into his lap, peppering your face with kisses, smiling up at you as you giggle.

He helps you get dressed, gently cooing at you as you show him the carpet burn you got from being on your knees for so long. He kisses it to make it better <3 and even puts on your white frilly socks for you, helping you with your little black kitten heels and your dress.

“Where to next, daddy?,” you giddily await his answer. “Now, we drive. To meet our special guests for tonight,” he replies, your smile now matching his level of sinister. The both of you were about to go have some fun, with some unconventional guests as well.

——-/

It was now almost midnight. After your play session in the van, you couldn’t wait to play in front of your guests!! The both of you listen to heavy metal as Billy speeds down an abandoned road, the rotting leaves blowing towards the sides from the van passing by on the road. He pulls his van up a few meters close to the woods, and parks.

“Coat, baby.” You nod, and he puts your black puffer on. He leads you to the backseat, where a black trunk with a lock is placed. He opens it. His mask. Ghostface. He puts it on his hip, putting on black clothes over his nice ones. He gives you gloves, and a knife. One for himself as well. Binoculars.

“Come, hun. This way.” You follow him up into a tree, where the both of you take turns with your binoculars. He takes out his block of a phone. How you loved the 90’s. He dials the number, telling you to watch their reaction in the windows. “Hi. What’s your favorite scary movie,” Billy's voice drawls out to his unsuspecting victims in the mansion that you were currently hiding outside of.

Billy continued to harass them on the phone, beckoning you down the tree quietly, and closer and closer to the person’s backyard. Billy stays on the phone, pointing at you to stay put, and opens the window on the first floor. You wait outside, as he slips on in.

You knew what to do. You’d wait for his signal, then follow him in. Then, came your favorite part: where Billy shows you off to his victims <3

You see his hand signal through the window. You step on inside, and see the couple tied to each other, this time with metal chains. Billy is wearing his mask. “Just in time for the show, sweetheart. Kneel.”

You do as said, loving the absolutely sadistic smile on his face right now. He puts on your leash ( only for when in front of un-consenting others) and has to crawl to sit at his knees. “You see here, my two pretties, you two are going to watch me fuck my little princess here. After that, I’ll decide if you get to live,” he chuckles in absolute glee.

“By the way, if you two decide to make a sound, or go at my little girl here, I’ll stab ya. Sounds good? My, my, what a perfect, scary movie,” he narrates to himself, to you, to the two victims, who looked like they were about to mentally lose it. <3

He skips with the foreplay, the blowjob, the fingering. He gets right to it. He wants his victims to see his pretty girl, on his own terms. He roughly pushes you down onto the floor, strong hands positioning your hips in place, giving your ass a few harsh spanks <3 you hear the belt buckle slip, and soon enough, you can feel the warmth of his already hard cock near your puffy pussy.

Your eyes are drawn to the couple. You loved being shown off, being watched. They did not want to watch you. But that is okay. Billy is going to make them. :)

They watch in horror as he starts rutting into you like a beast, bloody knife that he used on one of the victims nearing your neck, staying there. The knife soon drops, he gives it to you to hold as he starts losing control. You were too, feeling so full of him, getting an extra serving of his cum :) was your favorite thing to do.

You smiled as the couple looked on in horror. Billy pulled out just the last second before, and came all over your face. “Look so pretty with my cum all over your face, sweet girl. Clean it up f’me, yeah?” You nod.

After you wipe it off, Billy steps back in front of the two victims. “See how nicely I treat my girl? I’m her daddy, after all. Just wanted to show her to you. She’s mine, forever will be. What a nice show the two of you got,” he chuckles, before stabbing one of them, the screams could be heard from down the block.

Billy finished off the other one, not before giving her a good slap and punch. <3 The pool of blood covers the entire kitchen tiling, making it seem red everywhere. It’s on your shoes, on Billy’s. He takes his mask off, and picks you up in his arms.

“Did so good f’me today, sweet girl. So proud of you,” he praises you. “You did good too, Billy. I love how rough you are with them.” He smiles again, giving you a tender kiss. “Let’s leave, huh? Go back home, watch a scary movie?,” he asks. You nod, staying still in his arms as he carries you over the blood, and back out to the woods.

The two of you make it back to the van. They won’t catch you. As long as you’re together, everything was just fine.

[crybabykiko]

All Mine

Sakura Haurka x f!reader WC: 1.3k Warnings: pwp, established relationship, oral+piv, pull out method (sorry it’s just who I am now), undertones of possessive Sakura, everyone is aged up to early 20s, mentally this is supposed to have a 2nd part so ignore the abrupt ending...

Daisy Says: Idk how we got here but damn...

tagging @interstellar-inn bc network tings

“How come you never kiss me like that?”

When you asked, it was a joke, of course. You were curled up on the couch next to Sakura, feet tucked neatly under his thighs to keep your toes warm. There you were, wrapped up in blankets, a shared bowl of popcorn the only thing truly separating you two from getting closer.

You had noticed he wasn’t laughing, though.

“Helloooo,” you called, tossing a single piece of popcorn to barely thud against his temple, his gaze on the film breaking as he looked to you with red-stained cheeks. The truth of the matter was that even though you and Sakura had agreed to take things slow, things were going a little bit too slow for your liking. You liked watching movies, sure, but every time? watching movies could be even better if you were face down, ass up with the Are you still watching? screen pixelated in your blown-out eyes.

The couple on-screen is clearly having more fun than you are; the romantic climax of the movie featuring a kiss in the rain. Their lips meet in a fervent, sensual kiss, each touch igniting a wildfire of longing. The rain is drenching them, but they are oblivious, lost in the heat of the moment. Time stands still as their kiss deepens, every second brimming with unspoken promises and the raw, uncontainable passion of two souls finding their perfect match. Their bodies pressed together, hands roaming with a desperate, aching need, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour.

He shifted a bit, the seemingly permanent scowl on his face temporarily softening the moment his eyes fell onto you again. With you, he was never really angry- or even aggressive, but instead, so much more relaxed and comfortable,despite the discomfort with being close to.. Well anyone. Even against the mounting and overtly sexual tension that had been building much like your closeness- it was no secret that he was insecure at times about your intentions with him. After all, you were such a hot commodity around town- choosing him sometimes felt odd to him in particular. He thought about the things the guys said about you, the things they wanted to do to you, the things that he could do to you. The stare lingered a bit, his eyes trailing from your head and down your neck, before settling on your chest. He could just barely trace the lining of the top of your bra through the deep cut neckline of your shirt, eyes straining involuntarily in an effort to see even more. He had you. You were his. And he had made up his mind in these tangled thoughts- that you had waited long enough.

“Is- that… is that what you want?” His eyes were fixated on the way your chest rose and fell with every breath you took.

You reached out to lift his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours as you inched closer and closer to his face, lips barely touching as you spoke.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, confirming your desire and giving him even more indication while batting your lust-ridden eyes. You fully closed the gap, pushing your tits against him as if to say that you weren’t leaving his apartment without what you came for… him.

His complexion flushed an even deeper, carmine red as your hand trailed down to palm him. You felt him stiffen almost immediately in response to the touch, your voice darkening as you stared into his now bewitched multicolored eyes.

“Just wanna be yours.”

It’s barely a full blown make out, but his lips are on yours as soon as you give him the go ahead. There's no real time to melt together but the urgency is there, making it feel as if once your lips part, they’ll never be able to touch again. It gets deeper over time, hands beginning to roam between fabric and skin interchangeably while you gasped for the spaces of thickened air between you, Sakura mumbling ‘all mine,’ against your lips, jawline, and neck as he made sure to leave no patch of skin untouched. He took the lead, pulling your shirt over your head and pushing you to your knees.

Licking your lips with anticipation, you saw him finally spring free from his makeshift pajama pants, cock already glistening at the tip. One hand began to twist at the base of while the other worked to peel your low-rising lounge shorts down to your knees, wiggling your legs until they fell just past your ankles. His hands found their way to your hair as he began to move your head up and down in an effort to guide you. The movement of his arms and hips was feverish and mismatched, desperate for any contact he could have. The weight of him on your tongue alone was enough to send your pussy into overdrive after waiting for what felt like an eternity for this moment. After a few passes, you popped your lips off of him, strings of your saliva separating you from the length.

At first it was slow, making sure he could feel every inch of himself entering you as you adjusted to the pleasure of fullness. He raked his hands into the sides of your flesh, speeding up your pace as he started to thrust upward to meet you. You hadn’t noticed him snaking a hand behind him, reaching over his head to draw it forward- his old Furin jacket. You knew how important that thing was to him- the stories it held, the person it made him way back when. When it came into your vision, you immediately took the hint, gently fumbling with the cool metal buttons that adorned it. Never slowing down, he guided your hips to make figure-8s around him as you slipped it over your shoulders.

“Fuck-” the moan was drawn out and broken as his cock rammed into you more vigorously then, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in harmony with your moans as you felt yourself losing balance. You placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself, but he pulled you forward by the breaklines of his jacket, fixated instead on feeling your body in his.

“Now, you’re all mine,” Sakura exalted. His eyes- one blue, one brilliantly golden, were completely glossed over, much like yours at this point, but the intensity of the eye contact brought you closer to the high you’d been chasing as both of your breath patterns slowly began to waver. You could feel his nails softly digging into your side as he concentrated, deepening his claim on you by ghostwriting his name in your skin- you had memorized every character even as your vision began to white, body giving way to land onto his frame and gripping the blankets below you for dear life. He grunted in compliance as he felt you start to clench around him, making sure to get you through it all, eventually slowing his pace and slipping out just in time to come completely undone where your lower abs met.

You both collapsed into the floor beneath you, bodies writhing as you recollected your bearings. There were several seconds of soft pause before anyone moved, heads innocently knocking into each other’s in your disoriented state. He mumbled a soft apology, pressing his lips to the affected area near your temple before reaching over both your bodies to grab his phone.

Oh shit. It was almost 8:45.

Following his lead, you too grabbed your phone- several missed texts flooded your screen. Both of you were late for that night’s festivities- the debut of Tsubakino’s new number down at the club- the one your entire friend group had been invited to at least 2 weeks ago…. The one that Tsubaki would kill you for missing… especially because you helped with the choreography.

“I should probably go back to mine and get ready,” sighed, wrapping yourself in Sakura’s jacket and heading toward the door back to your place, conveniently located a few units away.

“I’ll give this back to you later.”

[hsjazebel]

Passion in Tokyo*

Word count: 2280

A/n: just a japanrry fic

Content warning: smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink

masterlist

Tokyo welcomed us with its orderly chaos and its frenetic beauty. As we walked through the crowded streets, Harry seemed to have a secret hiding behind his playful smile. I couldn’t figure out what he was up to, but his excitement was contagious and it made me feel like I was in the middle of an amazing adventure.

Every place we visited seemed to be carefully chosen by Harry, and every look, every gesture, was full of meaning. I wondered what he was up to, but I didn’t dare ask him, fearing to ruin the magic of the moment.

When we finally arrived at the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, the golden light of the sunset tinged the surrounding landscape with warmth. Harry seemed engrossed in his thoughts as my heart pounded as I waited to find out what he had in store for us.

As we walked through the garden, the rustling of the leaves and the sweet scent of the flowers created an enchanting atmosphere. Harry held my hand gently, but his gaze reflected silent determination. I wondered what he was thinking as we ventured deeper and deeper into the heart of the garden.

At a certain point, we came to a romantic little bridge that crossed a quiet lake. The sunset light danced on the water, creating golden reflections that illuminated our path. Harry stopped in front of the bridge, his gaze scanned the horizon with a mixture of emotion and serenity.

My heart began to beat faster in my chest as I wondered what was about to happen. It was as if time had stopped, leaving just the two of us in a moment suspended in eternity. With a sigh, I turned to Harry, ready to face whatever fate had in store for us.

The tension in the air was palpable as we exchanged meaningful glances. Harry took a deep inhale and knelt in front of me, revealing a small box hidden in the palm of his hand. My heart leapt in my chest as my eyes filled with tears of joy and wonder.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice shaking, “ever since I met you, my life has changed in ways I never imagined. You are my light, my smile, my everything. I can't imagine spending a just a moment without you by my side. I would like to ask you... would you like to marry me?"

My hands trembled as I opened the box, revealing a gorgeous, sparkling ring. My words were lost in the tumult of emotions overflowing inside me. With a bright smile, I nodded slowly.

Harry looked at me with eyes bright with hope and love, and my breathing deepened as I watched him. The words hung in the air for an infinite moment, before they finally came out of my mouth with a sweetness I didn't know I possessed.

'Yes, Harry,' I replied with a trembling voice, 'yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

A smile of joy lit up Harry's face as he stood up and hugged me tightly. The weight of the box in his hand became a tangible sign of our commitment to each other, a symbol of our love that would last forever.

The sunset colored the sky with shades of pink and gold as we exchanged sweet promises and whispers of love. In that moment, the world around us seemed to disappear, leaving us alone in our universe of happiness and hope.

After accepting his proposal, the air around us seemed charged with electricity, as if every single molecule was impregnated with our newly recognized love. The erotic tension between us was palpable, a wave of desire that grew with each heartbeat.

We looked at each other intensely, without words, but with a profound understanding that went beyond verbal expressions. It was as if we were reading each other, revealing our innermost desires without having to utter a single word.

Slowly, our mouths came closer, attracted by an irresistible magnetism that bound us to each other. The first contact was delicate, a light touch that sent shivers along my skin. Then, the kiss became deeper, more passionate, as if we were to merge our souls into a single entity.

My hands ran down his body with a firm determination, exploring every curve, every line, as if I wanted to memorize every single detail of him. I felt the heat of his skin under my fingers, and my body burned with desire as I abandoned myself completely to him.

His lips were soft and hungry, devouring mine with an uncontainable passion. Our breaths mixed in a frenetic rhythm, as if we had to share the same oxygen to survive. It was a kiss that exuded desire, union and promises of endless love.

Our tongues intertwined in a sensual dance, exploring every corner of each other's mouths with insatiable curiosity. Every moan, every sigh, was an expression of our unquenchable passion, a language that only the two of us could understand.

In that moment, in the heart of Tokyo, under the starry blanket of the night sky, we had united not only as lovers, but as soul mates destined to walk the path of love and passion together.

After that intense moment of passion, Harry took a deep inhale, his eyes still burning with desire as he looked at me with affection. “Y/n,” he whispered huskily, “I think it's time to go to the hotel.”

His voice was full of promise and anticipation, and my heart was still beating fast in my chest as I nodded slowly, unable to speak due to the intensity of the emotions we had just shared.

With a knowing smile, we walked hand in hand towards the hotel, our pace impatient and full of expectations. Although the city around us was still in turmoil, our world was reduced to that moment, that place, the promise of a night of passion and shared love.

Once we arrive at the hotel, Harry gently closes the door behind us and turns to me with a look full of desire.

“How about waiting for daddy like a good girl on the bed?” he tells you in his usual low tone of voice.

You nod without saying anything and head to the bedroom that was separate from the rest of the suite.

You undress to just your underwear, already knowing that Harry will appreciate what you've done.

You wait what seems like a lifetime when Harry finally makes his way into the room. He has two glasses of white wine in his hand and has unbuttoned the first 4 buttons of his shirt, revealing some of his tattoos on his chest.

“I see you've been a good girl, waiting for dad only in your lingerie that he bought you” she tells you, letting out her usual mischievous smile and handing you a glass of wine.

You both take a sip from your glasses, then Harry takes yours from your hand and places both little holes on the nightstand next to the bed.

“I think it's time to celebrate.”

He lays you flat on your back and starts running his hands all over your body leaving wet kisses here and there.

“You know,” he says, they detach their mouths from your body, “when I bought this I already imagined how it would feel on you, but seeing it in person is a completely different thing. You're a fucking goddess.”

You stand there in silence, letting out a moan every now and then, it feels like your brain has turned to mush, the only thing you can think about is Harry.

Meanwhile he got dangerously close to the area where you need him most, and slowly takes off your black lace panties.

He inhales deeply as he uses his hands to open your legs. “You always smell good to me don't you? And always so wet! Who made you so wet?”

“You… it was you”

But Harry doesn't seem happy with your answer, giving you a light slap on the inside of your thigh. “I didn't hear, who made you wet?”

“You daddy, it was you!”

“Good girl,” he tells you, leaving a wet kiss near your crotch. “Since you were a good girl I think you deserved a present.”

With the help of his thumbs he opens your pussy lips, and smiles when he sees your clit already erect and smooth with your excitement.

He doesn't wait a second longer and dives into your pussy, licking your clit first, making tight circles with his tongue, and then he draws licks that go from your hole to your clit.

Harry was so good at giving head, the best you've ever been with. The little grunts he let out when he tasted your nectar straight from the source turned you on even more.

With his hands you grab his hair and pull him closer to you as you ride his face.

In the room the only noises that can be heard are your moans and the wet sound of Harry's tongue meeting your pussy.

He moves his mouth away from your center and you moan at the loss of contact. “I think she's ready to take daddy's cock now, don't you?”

“Yes, yes daddy, I need you, I need your cock.”

Smiling at your words Harry quickly strips off his clothes and you can finally see his cock, standing with the red tip already dripping with precome.

“How do you want me, pretty girl?”

“I want to be on top.”

“Go pretty girl, ride me.”

Harry sits on the bed with his back against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs slightly and stroking his cock.

You slowly sit on his cock, it was big and long and despite the several years you were together at the beginning you always had a little difficulty taking it.

“Such a tight pussy for daddy, isn't it? You always hold me so good.” Harry tells you, looking at the place where the two of you are connected.

When you sit on his hips, with his cock buried deep inside you, both of you moan enjoying this moment of intimacy.

After you adjust to the size of him you start to move on top of him, placing your hands on his pecs for leverage, but Harry takes your left hand and kisses your ring finger, where the ring is placed.

“You look so beautiful, riding me naked with just this sparkly ring. I still can't believe you said yes to me."

You smile at his words. “I will always say yes Harry, today, tomorrow and always”

He crosses your left hand with his, and with his other hand he takes you from behind the neck and dives on your lips, bringing you to a kiss full of love and passion.

He feels your hips start to slow down and he can tell you're getting tired, so he places your hips flat on the bed and meets your hips with upward thrusts.

You moan into his mouth in response, and he brings his hands to the cheeks of your ass, first leaving two smacks, and then taking a cheek in each hand and starts railing you harder.

“God, you feel so fucking good” he moans in your ear.

The sounds in the room were highly pornographic, the noise of your wet pussy being pummeled by Harry's cock was the only sound that could be heard, other than your moans and a few grunts from Harry.

“I feel your pussy squeezing me, are you ready to come for me love?” he tells you gently, a stark contrast to the thrusts inside you.

“Uh… yes, I need to come, make me come daddy please, I want to come with you” you whine.

“You know what the rule is, love, you come first. So come on, let me feel that pussy coming holding me so hard.

With three more thrusts from Harry you finally feel your orgasm hit you like a train. Your legs begin to tremble and you feel the muscles in your abdomen contract.

“Just such a beautiful girl, cumming so hard on daddy's cock. Do you want me to fill you with my cum? Is that what you want?"

You nod frantically as you catch your breath. “Yes daddy, I want you to fill me with your cum, I want to feel full.”

And so after a few more thrusts you feel Harry's hot sperm filling your insides, and you stop with your head on his chest listening to the pounding rhythm of his heart. Our breaths mix in a relaxed rhythm, as we enjoy the stillness after the passion.

“You are so special to me, Y/n,” Harry murmurs in a soft voice, his fingers gently stroking my hair.

I hold myself closer to him, his warmth wrapping around my body like a security blanket. “And you mean everything to me, Harry,” I reply with a tender smile. “I couldn't have imagined a better night.”

We get lost in our thoughts, relaxed and fulfilled by the deep connection we share. The air around us is filled with a sense of peace and serenity, as if the whole world had stopped to allow us to enjoy this moment of happiness.

With a delicate kiss on the forehead, Harry holds me even closer, and I close my eyes, completely immersing myself in the feeling of being loved and protected in his arms. In that moment, there is nothing but the two of us and our love, an island of calm and happiness amid the chaos of the outside world.

[kckt88]

Closer

Summary:

Lucaela is a strong bastard-the twin sister of the boy who maimed him with a blade, but she's also the sweetest Omega he's ever scented, and Aemond soon finds himself unable to fight against the primal urge of the Alpha inside him, who has chosen his neice as the perfect mate.

Warning(s): Language, Angst, Masturbation, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, P in V, Knotting, Mating Bites.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C LUCAELA VELARYON

INSPIRED BY - 'NINE INCH NAILS - CLOSER'

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 4569

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond strode across the training grounds of the Red Keep, his sword in hand, the sound of steel slicing through the air as he practiced his swordsmanship. His movements were fluid, each strike precise and powerful, a testament to years of training and discipline.

As he paused for a moment to catch his breath, a sweet fragrance wafted on the breeze, the scent of ripe peaches teasing his senses. Aemond's nostrils flared as he instinctively turned his head, searching for the source of the delightful aroma.

And there she was, emerging from the shadows like a vision—Lucaela, his niece a recently presented Omega. Her presence stirring the Alpha within. She was the twin sister of Lucerys, the boy who had took his eye when they were children. Aemond harboured a deep-seated hatred for Lucerys, but he couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards Lucaela.

"Lucaela," greeted Aemond, his voice low and tinged with a hint of something he dared not name.

“Uncle” replied Lucaela.

A wave of desire swept over Aemond like a tempest, igniting a fire within his soul that threatened to consume him whole.

Lucaela was the epitome of beauty, her long, dark wavy hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk, framing her delicate features with an ethereal glow.

Her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of light purple, she was the only one out of her strong siblings that had inherited the Targaryen eyes.

And then there was her peach scent that enveloped him like a cloak, sending his senses reeling with its intoxicating allure. It was a scent he could never forget, a scent that awakened the Alpha within him, urging him to claim the omega as his own.

With every breath he took, Aemond could feel the pull of Lucaela's scent drawing him closer, igniting a hunger deep within him that refused to be ignored. The Alpha inside him roared with a primal need, demanding dominance, craving possession.

“What brings you to the training grounds?” asked Aemond, the point of his sword digging into the ground as he rested his weight upon it.

“I found myself drawn to this part of the castle-I was watching you train” replied Lucaela.

“-And did you like what you saw?” rasped Aemond smirking.

“Your skill with the sword is impressive-you’ll win many tourneys”.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys-nephews have you come to train?” quipped Aemond as Jace and Luke came to a stop beside Lucaela who scowled.

“Open the gates-“

Aemond smiled at Vaemond Velaryon made his way inside the Red Keep, flanked by a retinue of guards.

Alone in the dimly lit chambers, Aemond sat upon a plush chair, his mind consumed by thoughts of Lucaela.

The sweet scent of peaches still clung to the air, haunting him with its intoxicating allure. Aemond's fingers clenched tightly around the armrests of his chair as he fought against the primal urges stirring within him.

The petition for Vaemond to seize control of Driftmark had failed, his sickly father had miraculously roused himself from his stupor and came to the aid of Rhaenyra-his favourite child.

Viserys had steadfastly upheld the bastard strong boys claim to Driftmark and Vaemond had lost his head for it.

Now he would have to endure spending more time in the presence of Rhaenyra and her brood of bastards, his presence would be expected at dinner, and he would have to be in the same room as Lucaela.

Never in his life had he been this tempted by the scent of an Omega, just thinking about her was enough to make his cock hard. He’d already fucked his fist three times since their encounter in the training yard and it had done nothing to satisfy his desire.

Aemond closed his eye, trying in vain to banish her from his thoughts, but her image remained etched into the depths of his mind. The soft curve of her lips, the warmth of her gaze—each detail a tantalizing temptation that threatened to unravel his self-control.

For an Alpha, the scent of an Omega, especially a newly presented one, is like a siren's song, weaving its way through the air and captivating their senses with its intoxicating sweetness. It ignites a fire within them, awakening desires that they struggle to contain.

The Alpha within him surged with a primal longing, a desire as ancient as time itself. It whispered to him in the depths of his soul, urging him to claim Lucaela as his own, to make her his mate, and to sire pups with her.

In the quiet solitude of his chambers, Aemond wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between the responsibilities of his station and the yearnings of his heart. His Alpha instincts raged, demanding dominance and possession, driving him to seek out Lucaela and bind her to him in an unbreakable bond.

He imagined her taking his knot, his fangs sinking into her neck, forever claiming her as his. He pictured her belly swollen with his pups. The Alpha within him growling with satisfaction, his cock hard again.

“Fuck-“ groaned Aemond as his hands moved to untie his breeches once more.

Not even a day she had been back in the Red Keep and already he’d been reduced to hiding in his chambers fucking his own fist.

He briefly considered finding another Omega or perhaps a Beta female, perhaps if he could find one that looked similar to-

NO-the Alpha inside him would not accept a substitute, it had to be Lucaela.

His cock as hard as steel, already leaking precum and he began to move his hand up and down.

“Fuck-“ groaned Aemond his hips moving back and forth.

His mind a wash with vivid images of Lucaela, under him, on top of him, of him behind her, fucking his knot into her sweet wet warm cunny.

Gods he felt like he was in rut, his hips and fist moving faster, he was close-so close.

The scent of peaches-fuck he wondered if she tasted like a ripe peach, one of his favourite fruits.

Soft-sweet, perfect for sinking his teeth into.

“Lucaela-my Lucy-MINE” roared Aemond as he erupted, his seed spilling all over his fist and lower abdomen.

Aemond collapsed against the back of the chair, his heart pounding in his chest, the knot at the base of his cock throbbed continuously.

Then a soft knock at the door, broke Aemond out his reverie.

“Dinner is ready Prince Aemond-your presence is expected”.

“I’ll be there in a moment” replied Aemond, tucking his cock back in his breeches and reaching for a cloth.

God this dinner was going to be hell. But he must endure. He must do his duty. He supposed he could always hold his breath, that way he would smell the Omega’s scent, but that would also lead to his untimely death, and he couldn’t hold his breath all night.

His cock stirred once again at the thought of Lucaela and Aemond shook his head in disbelief.

“Fuck sake-not again” snapped Aemond as he ran a hand over his face.

No-he couldn’t indulge himself, otherwise he’d be late. So, with a deep breath he left his chambers and made his way to the dining room.

Praying to every fucking one of the seven that he could restrain himself.

The scent of roasted meats and spiced wines filled the air, mingling with the chatter and laughter of his relatives, yet beneath the facade of familial camaraderie, Aemond's inner turmoil raged like a storm.

Seated alongside his kin, Aemond struggled to maintain his composure, his fingers tightening around the stem of his goblet as he forced himself to focus on the conversation swirling around him. But try as he might to distract himself, his thoughts kept returning to Lucaela.

The Alpha within him clawed desperately at the confines of his self-control, yearning to claim her as his own, to dominate and possess her in a primal display of dominance. It whispered seductive promises of fulfilment and satisfaction, urging him to seize what he desired most.

But Aemond knew he couldn't succumb to those urges, not here, not now, surrounded by his family so, Aemond gritted his teeth against the tumult of his inner turmoil, his facade of stoicism masking the turmoil raging within. He cast furtive glances across the table, his gaze lingering on Lucaela, who sat beside her brother Lucerys, her expression a mask of serene composure.

Each glance only served to fuel the fire burning within him, the Alpha's hunger growing more insatiable with each passing moment. He longed to reach out and claim Lucaela, to mark her as his own and brand her with his scent—a symbol of their bond forged in the crucible of desire.

Not even his father’s desperate rambling were enough to distract him, not even the toasts, or even his sister Helaena dancing with Jace.

She was Aegon’s wife, but obviously the drunk cunt could only sit and stare as the bastard strong boy twirled her around in time with the music.

After his father had been escorted from the dining room, Aemond prayed for the night to come to a close, he had to get back to his chambers, his cock was throbbing with need, and he was sure the scent of his arousal was becoming more and more obvious by the second, due to the looks that Lucaela was giving him and the faint blush that dusted her cheeks.

Then the roasted pig was placed in front on him, and that bastard boy had the audacity to laugh at him.

His fist colliding loudly with the table, and he rose to his feet thanking the gods that his leather jerkin was long enough to hide the bulge in his breeches.

“Final tribute” said Aemond picking up his goblet “To the health of my niece and nephews-Lucaela, Jace and Luke-each of them handsome, wise and strong-“

“Aemond” warned Alicent.

“Come-let us drain our cups to these three strong-“

“-I dare you to say that again” challenged Jace.

“Why, it was only a compliment. Don’t you think yourself strong?” challenged Aemond, as Jace’s fist collided with the side of his face.

The dining room erupted into a cacophony of noise, Lucerys who had rose to defend his brother Jace had been slammed headfirst into the table, Lucaela had then slid her hands into Aegon’s silver hair and wrenched him away from her twin brother-and Jace had been shoved to the floor.

Aemond’s blood was growing hot as he watched Lucaela defending her brother, he didn’t give two shits about Luke, but it was the way in which the Omega had fiercely risen from her seat and thrown herself into the chaos.

The hard slap she delivered to Aegon’s pale cheek had the Alpha inside Aemond growling with delight.

But Jace had hauled himself of the floor and was charging towards Aemond, who braced himself ready to fight.

“Wait-wait-“ snarled Daemon, stepping in between the two.

“Go to your chambers-all of you go now” ordered Rhaenyra.

Aemond watched as Lucaela bowed her head to her mother and followed her brothers from the dining room.

As he watched her leave Aemond suddenly became very aware that Daemon was watching him with intrigue, following his gaze.

The older Alpha raised his non-existent eyebrows at Aemond who decided it was for the best to stand down, challenging Daemon wouldn’t do him any favours, not with Lucaela anyway.

So, he left the dining room, not bothering to deal with the aftermath of his actions as there was something else that demanded his attention.

Aemond’s footsteps echoed softly as he made his way through the corridors of the Red Keep, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows along the stone walls, casting an eerie glow upon his determined features.

He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't succumb to the forbidden desires that tugged at his soul like a riptide dragging him under. But the scent of Lucaela lingered in his senses, a sweet intoxicating fragrance that called to him with an irresistible allure, driving him ever closer to her chambers.

As he reached the door to Lucaela's quarters, Aemond hesitated for a moment, his hand poised to knock. His mind raced with a thousand reasons why he should turn back, why he should resist the primal urges that threatened to consume him.

But then he caught another whiff of her scent, carried on the breeze like a whispered promise, and all rational thought fled from his mind. With a shaky breath, he rapped his knuckles against the door, the sound echoing through the silent corridor.

The door creaked open, revealing Lucaela standing on the threshold, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him.

Aemond's gaze locked with hers, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find the words to express the tempest of emotions raging within him. But before he could speak, the scent of Lucaela enveloped him like a tidal wave, washing away his doubts and fears in a flood of primal need.

“What do you want?” asked Lucaela.

“You know what I want-“ replied Aemond as he stepped inside the dimly lit chamber.

“No, I don’t-“

“-Sure, you do” said Aemond.

“You can’t want me-“ muttered Lucaela, lowering her gaze to the floor.

“Why not?” snarked Aemond.

“I thought I was a bastard-you said it yourself. Handsome, wise and strong”

“When it comes to you I was wrong, I should have said pretty and perfect for birthing my pups” growled Aemond as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single stride. He could feel the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, beckoning him closer with each passing second.

And then, without a word, he crushed his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

His Alpha roaring with delight, at the sweet taste of the Omega.

Breaking away from the kiss, Lucaela gasped for breath, her eyes meeting Aemond's with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. "We mustn't," she breathed, her voice trembling with restraint. "We should court properly, earn the blessing of the King and our family.”

Aemond's brows furrowed, a shadow passing over his features as he shook his head in disbelief. "You know as well as I do, Lucy," he murmured, his voice tinged with bitterness. "My mother and grandsire would never allow such a match to take place. They would sooner see us wed to strangers for political gain than grant their blessing to our union."

“Aemond��� whimpered Lucaela as he reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"You can feel it, can't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "The pull of my Alpha scent”

Lucaela's breath caught in her throat at his words, her heart pounding with a mixture of longing and apprehension. She wanted to deny it, to cling to the remnants of her resolve, but the undeniable truth hung heavy in the air between them.

"I-I shouldn't," she whispered, her voice barely a breath as she fought to resist the primal urges that threatened to consume her. "We mustn't give in to temptation, Aemond. We must honour our duty and our family."

But even as she spoke the words, Lucaela could feel the last vestiges of her resistance crumbling beneath the weight of Aemond's presence, his Alpha scent wrapping around her like a velvet cloak, suffusing her senses with a heady intoxication that left her dizzy with desire.

Aemond's lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You cannot deny the pull any longer, Issa dōna," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "Our desires are too strong, too primal to be ignored” (My sweet).

With a soft gasp, Lucaela closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Aemond's in a searing kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.

Lucaela had lost most of her senses the moment Aemond had pressed her onto the bed and knelt down between her open legs.

“Issa dōna Omega” whispered Aemond (My sweet Omega).

Lucaela’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

Lucaela bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.

“Ivestragī issa rȳbagon ao issa dōna” growled Aemond (Let me hear you my sweet).

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Lucaela.

Aemond pressed two fingers inside Lucaela, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.

Lucaela arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond crawled up Lucaela’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Lucaela blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself my little strong girl” murmured Aemond.

“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Lucaela.

“Relax and let Alpha take care of you”.

Almost as if he could read Lucaela’s mind, Aemond smiled and began peppering gentle kisses all over Lucaela’s face.

“You can take it. Ao istan vēttan syt issa” whispered Aemond as he began rubbing his hard cock along Lucaela’s wet folds (You were made for me).

Suddenly Aemond rolls his hips forward and the entire hard length of him is buried inside Lucaela.

“A-Aemond” shrieks Lucaela at the sting of her maidenhead being taken.

Aemond stills for a moment, almost as if he is savouring the feeling of Lucaela’s tight wet heat being wrapped around him.

After a few mintues, Lucaela begins to writh against him.

“M-Move please Alpha. I need you” begged Lucaela desperately.

Aemond rolls his hips gently at first, allowing Lucaela the time to adjust to the feeling of his cock moving back and forth inside her, but when his sweet Omega begins issuing pleas of ‘Harder and faster’ Aemond loses it and begins fucking Lucaela into the mattress.

Their hips pound together as Aemond thrusts hard and fast, his movements brutal and precise.

“Lucaela. My Omega” moans Aemond as his cock begins to thicken at the base.

“Yes. Yes. Oh, it’s feels so good. Alpha don’t stop. Fuck me harder. I can take it”

“Going to fill you up with my seed. I want to see you swollen with my pups” hisses Aemond.

“Yes. Alpha breed me. I want to grow round with your pup. I will give you as many pups as you desire” exclaimed Lucaela.

“Y-Your neck. I need too-Claim you” growls Aemond.

“Yes, Alpha claim me. Make me yours” begs Lucaela.

With a low growl of desire, Aemond tilts Lucaela's head back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck to his hungry gaze.

His cock throbbing with anticipation,

Lucaela's breath hitched as she felt the heat of Aemond's lips brush against her skin, his touch igniting her blood. Then, she felt the sharp sting of his teeth sinking into her flesh, a mixture of pleasure and pain flooding her senses.

Aemond's Alpha scent enveloped her, swirling around her like a whirlwind, as Lucaela surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. With a gasp of ecstasy, she arched against him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt their bond solidifying, the mating bond that would bind them together for eternity.

But even as Aemond claimed her as his own, Lucaela's own Omega instincts surged to life, driving her to reciprocate the gesture. With a fierce determination, she bit down on Aemond's neck.

Whilst her teeth are not as sharp as Aemonds, they still manage to puncture his mating gland. Sealing Alpha and Omega together forever. Their bond snapping into place. Their hearts as one.

The blood from their bites running down their bodies, as they moved together. Her Alpha fucked her hard and fast, his hips pounding against hers. The sound of skin slapping together echoed around the chambers.

As Aemond gives one last thrust and forces his knot inside Lucaela, spilling rope after rope of his seed inside his Omega, which made Lucaela throw her own head back and scream, as she reached her peak, clenching around her Alpha’s pulsating cock.

It didn’t stop there, Aemond only needed a few moments of rest before growing hard inside of his Omega again.

As Lucaela’s legs relaxed and let go of her hold on Aemond, his knot had deflated enough to allow him to move backwards, and he raised himself to his knees between Lucaela’s legs.

The loss of her Alpha inside her made Lucaela whimper as the ache quickly returned. 

“Roll over” ordered Aemond. It was a command, an Alpha command, and Lucaela whimpered as she felt it take control of her body, she had to obey, she had to please her Alpha.

She was now on all fours in front of him, ready to be mounted again. Her waves of scent and slick made Aemond almost stagger. He pushed his cock into the whimpering Omega once more with shaky hands and proceeded to pound her even harder and quicker than before, snapping his hips against her while grunting loudly, driving needy moans out of Lucaela. 

Aemond was gripping her hips so hard that his nails were digging into her skin, leaving marks everywhere, the pain drove Lucaela wild with need and she needed to feel more of it.

Almost as if he could sense what she needed, Aemond reached forward and grabbed Lucaela’s hair, making her head shoot back. Lucaela cried out to her Alpha in pleasure, making Aemond growl.

His knot started to slowly push inside Lucaela, and she let out a feral cry as the knot made its way deeper and deeper inside of her.

It swelled up so much, it hurt, it hurt so good.

“A-Aemond-yes-yes-please” babbled Lucaela as she peaked, her slick dripping onto the sheets.

“I will have you dripping with my seed my sweet Omega. I can’t wait to see you swell with my pups, everyone will know your mine-“ moaned Aemond.

Aemond thrust one, two, three more times before growling once again, shooting his seed deep inside Lucaela, filling her up. He grunted out Lucaela’s name chasing the pleasure of his own peak. He then let out a deep, satisfied breath before collapsing onto his Omega.

Aemond moved his face to Lucaela’s neck again, and lovingly nuzzled her.

Lucaela laid trembling underneath him, his knot had swelled and locked together,

“ñuhon” muttered Aemond (Mine).

In the depths of the night, shrouded in shadows cast by flickering torchlight, Lucaela made her way down to the skull of Balerion, the ancient relic looming over her like a silent sentinel of the past. She paused before the massive skull, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and resolve.

As she waited, Lucaela reached up to the fresh mating mark on her neck and grimaced at the dried blood lingering on her skin.

At the sound of footsteps, Lucaela took a deep breath and turned to face Daemon.

"Is it done?"

Lucaela nodded, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. "Yes," she replied, her words echoing softly in the cavernous chamber. "Aemond has claimed me as his mate. His seed has filled my womb."

A slow smile spread across Daemon's lips, a flicker of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Well done," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the darkness.

“Thank you-father” whispered Lucaela.

"You must lay with him as many times as you can to ensure that you carry Aemond's pup," he said, his tone firm and commanding. "No Alpha would ever turn away from their own child and with Aemond on our side, your mother's path to the Iron Throne is clearer than ever."

"I-I understand," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper as she met Daemon's gaze with a mixture of resignation and determination.

Daemon nodded; his expression unreadable as he regarded her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "Good," he said, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the chamber. "With his pup in your womb, our position will be secure”.

“What of those who conspire against mother?” asked Lucaela.

“Otto Hightower isn’t the only treasonous cunt involved, soon the others will reveal themselves and when they do-justice will served” replied Daemon his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister.

“Perzys se ānogar” said Lucaela (Fire and Blood).

Daemon's eyes softened as he looked upon Lucaela, a sense of pride swelling within him like a flame dancing in the darkness. Of Rhaenyra's three children from her first marriage, Lucaela was his favourite—the embodiment of everything he believed a Targaryen should be.

"You have done well" he said, his voice carrying the weight of his admiration. "But now, it is time for you to return to your mate and get some rest. Thanks to you, the war will be won before it even begins”

As Lucaela made her way back to her chambers, her mind drifted back to Daemon's plan.

Her presentation as an Omega had marked a turning point, her scent at its strongest—a heady concoction of sweetness and allure that had the power to captivate even the most stoic of unmated Alphas. It was a scent that could drive men to madness, igniting a primal hunger that could not be ignored.

Whispers had reached Dragonstone of Ottos plans to usurp the Iron Throne when Viserys passed and have Aegon crowned, and Daemon knew they had to play it smart at least for now and he had seen the potential of her power as an Omega and recognized the opportunity it presented.

Aemond and Vhagar were Otto’s biggest asset, and without them he was nothing.

So, Daemon had suggested that she deliberately place herself in front of Aemond, play coy and let her scent drive him wild with desire until he could resist her no longer.

Lucaela pushed open the door, the soft light of the moon casting a gentle glow across the room, illuminating the seed and blood-stained sheets that bore witness to their passionate union.

Aemond was still asleep, his features softened by the embrace of slumber, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

As Lucaela slipped beneath the covers and nestled against Aemond's side, his arms instinctively wrapping around her and pulling her close, a sense of warmth and contentment washed over her like a wave crashing against the shore.

And as she lay there in the darkness, wrapped in Aemond's embrace, Lucaela couldn't help but wonder if perhaps being mated to him wouldn't be so bad after all.

The fervour in which he had taken her to bed had been unlike anything she had expected, growing up the septa’s had always told her of a woman’s duty, that she existed for a man’s pleasure and not her own.

But Aemond had shown her that there was much pleasure to be had, and she couldn’t wait to experience more.

[narcoticv3nus]

Chasing Ghosts ♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kinktober Day XXII: Hybrids

summary: you’re a bunny hybrid taking a short walk in the woods you think you’re all alone until you’re not tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, dubcon, p in v, fingering, praise, degradation, rough sex, predator!simon, threats of unaliving, panther!simon, prey!reader, bunny!reader, dom!simon, sub!reader, animalistic sex, crying, virgin!reader wc: 4.4k

MASTERLIST

The air was heavy with humidity, each breath infused with the earthy aroma of rain-soaked grass and damp soil. As you cautiously navigated the lush, dewy terrain beneath your feet, the vivid sounds of nature surrounded you. The rhythmic chorus of cicadas filled the air, harmonizing with the cheerful melodies of birdsong flitting about in the trees above. Sunlight poured down, its warmth contrasting sharply with the cool, wet ground, creating a vibrant tableau of summer life. Each step sent tiny droplets of water shimmering in the light while the foliage glistened like emeralds, alive with the vivid colors of the season.

As you ventured deeper into the wilderness, each step squelched delightfully in the thick, wet mud that oozed between your toes, a cool contrast to the sweltering heat that had wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor. You had wandered farther from the safety of your home than intended, and an instinctive alertness sharpened your senses.

With every rustle of leaves or distant snap of a twig, your ears twitched, straining to pick up the faintest of sounds—the chirping of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, a whisper of wind through the branches. Each new smell caught your attention, from the earthy scent of wet ground to the sweet, musky aroma of wildflowers. You inhaled deeply, letting the fragrances mingle in your mind, a lively tapestry of the world around you, eager to commit them to memory.

Unbeknownst to you, a cunning predator lay in wait, his gaze fixed intently on you—the small, diminutive rabbit hybrid. From his concealed position, shrouded in the thick underbrush, his sharp brown eyes transformed into narrow slits, capturing every moment of your delicate movements. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the lazy flick of his tail as he crouched low amidst the ferns and bushes, ready to strike any moment. The air was thick with tension; each breath he took was a silent testament to his growing anticipation.

He admired your determination despite your obvious fear—the subtle tremors in your legs, the near-constant twitch of your ears. His heartbeat remained steady, a testament to his years of experience in this unforgiving environment. A predator at the top of the food chain, he was drawn to your vulnerability, his body instinctively reacting to the potential conquest.

“Who goes there?” he called out, his deep voice rolling like distant thunder. There was no malice in his tone, merely curiosity tinged with authority. He wanted to gauge your reaction, to see if you were a worthy addition to his territory or simply another lost soul who would fall prey to its perils. He allowed himself a small smile, anticipating the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of claiming you for himself.

A jolt of terror surged through your veins as you soared into the air, mud flying in chaotic arcs, splattering your clothes in the dark, clinging patches. Heart racing, you spun around, your head darting from side to side as you strained to pinpoint the source of the haunting voice that echoed through the stillness. The world felt suspended then; each sound amplified as anticipation gripped you tighter.

Chuckling to himself at your startled reaction, the human panther emerged from his cover with a smooth grace that belied his muscular frame. The sunlight glinted off the black fur of his ears and tail, casting an ethereal aura around him as he prowled closer. His movements were calculated and deliberate—like a predator stalking its prey. He reveled in his power over you, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that only added to his menacing allure.

“Easy there,” he purred, his voice low and soothing despite the underlying threat. “No need to fear the shadows. You've got nothing to worry about… unless you're planning on causing trouble in my territory.” He studied you intently, noting the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the erratic pulse at the base of your neck. You were frightened, but there was something else there, too—curiosity? Intrigue? Either way, it made his blood sing with excitement. He took another step closer, his tail twitching in anticipation.

“What brings a little thing like you to these parts?”

Overwhelmed by fear, you found yourself lost for words as you gazed up at him, your eyes wide and shimmering like saucers. Your small hands trembled involuntarily, each twitching a reflection of the panic coursing through your veins, leaving you paralyzed in place.

His grin widened slightly at your paralysis, his chest rumbling with a low, approving purr. You were just as he liked them—scared but not broken. As you stared at him, fear-ridden and trembling, he took the opportunity to assess you more thoroughly. Your delicate form was intriguing—small enough to fit within the palm of his hand, yet there was something undeniably alluring about you. Your fear was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but wonder how you would react when he finally claimed you.

He crouched down lower, his movements deliberate and non-threatening, as if he were trying to coax a wild animal to approach him. “No need to be afraid,” he repeated, voice still calm and soothing. He allowed his tail to brush lightly against your leg, testing your boundaries and waiting for any sign of resistance or submission.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, soft and airy like a gentle breeze, as you found yourself lost in the endless depths of his onyx eyes. The intensity of his gaze felt like a magnetic pull, drawing you in yet making it hard to hold contact. You cast your eyes downward, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. “I got lost,” you confessed, your words barely above a whisper tinged with vulnerability as you avoided the weight of his stare.

A low growl of disbelief escaped his lips. Lost? In his territory? He didn’t buy it for a second. Prey never wandered in here accidentally. They knew better. But still, something about you piqued his interest. Perhaps the innocence seemed to radiate from you like a warm aura, or maybe it was the way you submitted so quickly to his dominance. He leaned closer, inhaling deeply to catch your scent. It was intoxicating—floral with a hint of something sweet, like freshly picked berries. His body hummed with arousal, and he could feel his instincts taking over.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice firm and unwavering. When you hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his, he continued, “Lost, huh? That’s not a good excuse for trespassing.” He let the implied threat hang heavy between them, his gaze never wavering from yours. He could see the wheels turning in your mind as you searched for an explanation that might appease him, and he relished every second of it.

“But I suppose I can make exceptions... under the right circumstances.” He allowed one clawed finger to trail down your arm, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Thank you…” you murmured, letting out a shaky breath that trembled in the air around you. The gravity of the moment pressed against your chest, and you fought to blink away the hot tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, each one a reflection of the fear that gripped your heart.

His expression softened slightly at your response, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. The fear rolling off you in waves was intoxicating, and he wanted more. The panther leaned closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he spoke, “Tell me, little rabbit, why should I let you live?”

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the rapid beat of your heart drumming in his ears like a symphony. It was music to his predatory soul. He let his claw graze gently across your collarbone, enjoying how you flinched at his touch. The thought sent a surge of arousal straight to his groin.

You let out a whimper at his words, squeezing your eyes shut as his claw pressed against the center of your throat. You swallowed your spit, feeling the sharp pressure dig deeper.

As the breath rushed out of your lungs, it felt as though a heavy weight pressed against your chest, trapping you in a suffocating grip. Your throat constricted painfully, leaving you gasping and helpless, the air just out of reach. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the turmoil inside, while you sniffled softly, a mix of vulnerability and despair.

A dark smile twisted across his lips as you cried beneath his touch. The sound sent shivers down his spine, only fueling his desire for control. He pressed his claw ever so slightly harder against your delicate throat, enjoying your reaction. Your vulnerability was like a drug, and he wanted more.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, “Answer me,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. He could feel his cock hardening in his pants as pictures of taming such a delicate creature flashed in his mind.

“Why should I spare you?” He repeated, applying a little more pressure. His thumb stroked the pulse point beneath his claw, feeling it race wildly beneath his touch.

“I don't know…” you whined, wheezing underneath him. You couldn't come up with anything to say to him, your instincts telling you to run as fast and far as you could, but you knew you couldn't outrun him. You were stuck.

“Please…” you begged, your chin trembling, tears slipping between your lips and down your neck.

His smile turned feral; he loved it when prey begged for mercy; it showed how far they would go to survive. He leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your trembling form as he considered his options.

“That’s not a very convincing answer, little rabbit.” He retracted his claws from your throat, giving you a brief respite, only to slide his hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to live.” The heat from his hand was almost unbearable against your cold, wet skin, but the tenderness of the gesture was surprisingly gentle.

He wanted to see you fall apart underneath him, hear you scream his name until your voice gave out. But first, he needed to listen to you beg correctly. “Tell me,” he whispered huskily, his thumb tracing your lower lip.

“What will you do for me?” His voice clarified the implication, and he could practically taste your fear.

You blinked at him, your thoughts racing as you processed his words. The room felt charged with anticipation, and you could sense the weight of his expectations hanging in the air.

“Any—anything!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above your usual quiet, the urgency spilling out before you could rein it in. At that moment, nothing else mattered; your heart raced, and the noise around you faded into nothingness. All that remained was the spark of possibility in his gaze.

His eyes flashed at your eager response. You were quicker to break than he had expected, but then again, rabbits were known for their fragility. He could feel the thrill of victory coursing through his veins as his cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the confines of his clothing.

“Good,” he purred, his hand sliding down your neck and between your breasts, pausing at the swell of your cleavage.

“Then prove it.” He pushed you slightly, urging you to get on your knees. His fingers traced the fabric of your clothes, teasing the sensitive skin underneath, before resting at your waistband.

He growled softly as you obediently obliged, his voice thick with lust and hunger. He undid the button of his pants, pulling out his length. It bobbed heavily in front of your face, demanding attention.

“Use your mouth.” The order was simple yet held so much weight. He could hear your pulse racing faster and your breath hitching at the sight of him.

You sat on your knees, feeling the wet grass scrape against your skin. You were taken aback by the abruptness of the situation unfolding right before you. The unexpectedness of it all sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You could feel the sun's warmth on your skin, starkly contrasting the chill of anxiety creeping in. As your heart raced, you licked your lips, the taste of anticipation mingling with the pooling saliva in your mouth, a physical reminder of the gravity of what was happening.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your lips slightly parted as you took deep, steadying breaths, trying to soothe the fluttering anxiety within you. “I’ve—I've never…” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.

He smirked, raising an eyebrow at your confession. “Never?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice. The thought excited him further, knowing that he would be the one to break you, to claim you. His fingers traced the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheekbone.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he promised sultrily.

“But first, you have to show me you’re willing.” He gripped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze back to his arousal. “Open up for me,” he commanded, his tone low and dominant. You could sense his excitement and approval, the heat radiating off his body, and how his tail swished behind him.

You braced your hands against his thighs, opening your mouth wider, flicking your eyes back up to his face to gauge his reaction.

He watched you closely, approval flickering in his eyes as his fingers tightened around your chin, guiding you closer to his cock. As your soft lips enveloped the tip, he let out a low groan, his hips jerking slightly in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, “take it all in.” He pushed your head down slowly, savoring the sensation of your warmth engulfing him. He could feel your hesitancy, but your willingness to try only made it hotter. As you began to move your lips along his length, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at having you submit so readily. He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting the waves of pleasure roll through him.

“Deeper,” he growled, his grip on your head becoming firmer as he thrust shallowly into your mouth, guiding your movements to match his rhythm.

His eyes remained closed, relishing in the sensation of your lips wrapped around him. His tail twitched erratically as you tried to keep up with his pace. He knew you were struggling but couldn’t bring himself to ease up. The feel of your mouth on him was too good, too enticing.

He could hear your soft whimpers, which only fueled his arousal. A dark grin curved against his lips. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. He felt you gag slightly and paused, pulling back to allow you to catch your breath. His thumb traced your bottom lip, smearing precum across your face.

“You’re learning,” he purred before pushing your head back onto him. He began to thrust again, this time harder and deeper. Simon’s eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto your watery ones.

He enjoyed watching you struggle to please him, your small form trembling beneath his firm grip. His hips moved in rhythm with your mouth, setting a pace that he knew would bring him closer to release.

“Use your tongue,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Show me how much you want it.” As you obeyed, licking and sucking fervently, he couldn’t hold back a moan of satisfaction. He reached down to stroke your long ears, his movements becoming more erratic as pleasure built within him. The sound of your muffled whimpers only added to the experience.

“That’s right,” he growled, feeling himself growing closer to climax, and tightened his grip on your head, holding you firmly in place as he thrust deeper. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice husky with lust. “Say it.”

You pulled back, hollowing your cheeks and flicking your tongue along his veins, pressing against his frenulum. With his tip pressed against your lips and your nails sinking into his skin.

“M’yours,” you mumbled, dragging your tongue across his tip, licking up the salty droplets slipping from the slit. Your eyelids fell halfway, and your mind began to fall deeper into a subspace.

A rumble of approval vibrated through Simon’s chest at your words, feeling a surge of power and possession. “Mmm,” he groaned, “good bunny.” He stroked your head encouragingly, pressing his thumb against your cheek. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice thick with desire.

The sight of you like this - submissive, eager to please - ignited a primal instinct within him. His hips moved involuntarily, pushing his cock towards your waiting lips. As you wrapped them around him once more, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He allowed himself to sink deeper into the moment, letting the sensations wash over him.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, his grip on your head tightening again. He thrust deeper into your mouth, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tail lashed behind him, betraying his mounting pleasure.

“Take it,” he ordered, pushing himself further into your mouth. His eyes snapped open, locking onto your half-lidded gaze, watching you submit to his every whim. He could see the trust and surrender in your expression, which only made him harder.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice husky with arousal. “Mine to use, mine to protect.” He pushed himself deeper still, holding you in place until he felt his orgasm building. With a final thrust, he released himself into your mouth, growling with satisfaction as you swallowed every drop. He released you, stroking your hair softly as he caught his breath.

“Good,” he praised, “very good.” His voice was calm and controlled once more, the moment's intensity having passed.

You preened at his praise, your chest puffing in pride before resting your cheek against his thigh, wrapping your arms around his leg, purring softly as you gazed up at him. Your soft tail twitched against your lower back, its soft touch offering you a sense of comfort.

His fingers traced idly through your silky hair, “Look at you,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his deep voice, “so eager to please.” His hand moved up to gently caress your cheek, his thumb brushing away the drool that clung to your lower lip.

He leaned down, capturing your gaze with his intense one. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He lifted your chin with a single finger, tilting your face upwards so he could claim your lips in a slow, possessive kiss. His tongue swept across yours, tasting himself on you before delving deeper, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth. Without words, he wanted you to know who you belonged to - who owned every part of you. When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged.

“But don’t think this means you’re safe,” he warned, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You’re still my prey.” The words were spoken softly, but there was no mistaking the threat behind them. He stood then, towering over your small form.

“Get up,” he ordered, offering you a hand. “We’re not finished here.” His grip was firm but not harsh as he pulled you to your feet. He led you towards a large tree, pressing you against it, his body pinning yours against the rough bark. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’ll learn your place,” he whispered, his voice dark and promising.

He trailed his free hand down your torso, feeling the slight tremble in your body as his fingers traced along your curves. He reached the hem of your top, swiping through it with one claw and letting it fall to the floor in tatters, revealing your naked form to his greedy eyes.

He growled low in his throat at the sight of your exposed flesh, his hunger for you growing stronger by the second. His hand moved to cup one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing circles around the nipple as it hardened under his touch. He could hear the rapid beat of your heart against his chest, feel your quickened breaths against his neck.

His eyes narrowed in appreciation at your obedience, noting how you arched into his touch, your soft purrs music to his ears. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another dominant kiss, claiming every inch of your mouth. He felt your small, delicate hands fumble against his chest before sliding around his back, your nails lightly scraping his skin. A low rumble of approval sounded in his throat, and he deepened the kiss further, letting you know who was in charge. Breaking away, he murmured against your lips, “Good girl.”

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly so you could wrap your legs around him. He supported your weight effortlessly, the muscles in his arms flexing under your touch. His fingers trailed along your exposed skin, eliciting shivers as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. With a single swift motion, he pulled them down, revealing your lower half. He stepped back, admiring the sight of you pressed against the tree, completely bare and at his mercy.

“Beautiful,” he praised, licking his lips. He placed a hand on the trunk beside your head, caging you in with his larger form. His other hand traced down your body, stopping at the juncture of your thighs. He could feel your heat radiating against his palm, and he couldn’t resist sliding a finger between your folds. You gasped, your hips jerking forward slightly at the contact. He smirked, his feline eyes gleaming. He circled your clit lazily, enjoying the feel of your body reacting to his touch.

“Mine,” he growled possessively before dipping his finger inside you. He savored the feel of your wetness around his finger, your body quivering under his touch. His thumb continued to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. Your reactions only fueled his desire, his cock straining against his pants. He leaned in, nipping at your earlobe, eliciting your whimper.

He slowly removed his finger, causing you to whine softly in protest. Chuckling darkly, he pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting gently, leaving a trail of marks that would brand you as his. He reached down, positioning himself at your entrance, the tip teasing your wet folds.

With one powerful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body tensing around him. He hissed in pleasure, holding still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once your body relaxed slightly, he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you moaning and writhing against him.

He loved the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on. He moved one hand to your breast, teasing your nipple until it peaked beneath his fingers. Your pants turned to whimpers as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with ferocity.

The predator smirked, enjoying your desperate attempts to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whimpers and gasps spurred him further, driving him to push you closer to the edge. He pinched your nipple lightly, eliciting a sharp cry from you, and he knew you were close. He leaned his head back, savoring the sensations coursing through his body. His tail swished lazily behind him, the end twitching as he thrust deeper into you.

He could hear the soft thud of your body against the tree trunk, each impact punctuating the sounds of your combined ragged breaths and wet flesh meeting. His grip tightened on your hip, guiding your movements as he drove himself further into your warmth. He was so close, but he needed you to come undone first. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you squirm.

“Come for me,” he growled against your ear, nipping at the lobe again. Your whimpers grew louder, your body tensing as your orgasm built. He could feel your walls contracting around him, milking him, urging him toward his climax. He increased his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful, more demanding. He watched your face contorted in pleasure; your eyes squeezed shut as you bit down on your bottom lip. And then, with a final gasp, you fell apart, your body convulsing around him as you rode out your release.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. With one final growl, he released his seed deep inside you, claiming you once more. He held you there, panting heavily, until the last tremors subsided. Only then did he pull away, tucking himself back into his pants. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked down your face.

“Pretty bunny,” he praised, his voice still rough with desire. He kissed your forehead softly before releasing you, letting you slump against the tree to catch your breath.

His eyes narrowed, watching you closely as you struggled to regain your composure. He savored the sight of you, flushed and spent against the tree trunk. Despite the tenderness of his last action, he reminded himself that this was still a game of survival - one he intended to win. He knew you were vulnerable now, but he also knew you were resilient. He needed to keep pushing to make sure you understood your place.

“Don’t think that was enough,” he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal. “You’re mine until I say otherwise.” His hand trailed down your arm before spinning you around, pressing you against the tree again, his body still radiating heat against yours. “Do you understand?” His grip on your wrists tightened, pulling them above your head so you were entirely at his mercy.

“You belong to me.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.” With that, he released one of your wrists, his hand sliding down your body to cup your breast, squeezing gently. His thumb teased your nipple, eliciting another moan from you. He smirked, satisfied that you were still so responsive to him.

“Now,” he said, his tone firm, “we continue. You’re going to walk ahead of me, nice and slow.” He released your other wrist, allowing you to move away from the tree. His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you forward.

“And if you try to run,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll just have to catch you again.” His fingers traced along the curve of your waist, his nails digging in just enough to remind you of his presence. “And trust me, little rabbit,” he purred, “you won’t enjoy it nearly as much.”

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